What he had heard still hadn’t sunk in. He turned his gaze toward the window, which overlooked a metropolis bathed in rain. He cracked the window open, and his ears caught the symphony of droplets crashing onto the roads, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of hydrogen engines. The city was perfect only on the surface.
The glitz of shape-shifting, multi-coloured neon signs did its utmost to conceal the grey despair visible on the ground. The neglected properties along the roads were crying out for attention, but they had lost any significance under the Central Council’s control.
Low budgets didn’t allow for funds to repair them or even to use them for another purpose. Now, carefully marked air tunnels provided communication. They didn’t need modernization. After coming out of his reverie, he realised that he saw himself on these old, unnecessary roads. Wait, it was already past tense. The conversation had given him hope that everything would change.
The only question was whether he dared to do so. They gave him until the evening to think about it. The small premises were conducive to contemplation. However, he saw something more in this quarter. A reflection of his soul. The walls were like a prepared bodily shell. Ordinary, insignificant skin. Beneath it was a void. Nothing human was afraid of it, because he led an existence on the outskirts of hopelessness, only occasionally neutralised by hybrids.
Now he could not even do that, since this chemical agent operating on the base of old vapes had been withdrawn from the market. He closed the window, still staring at the colourful neon signs. Nothing more than endless mirages of eye-straining lights. This wasn’t his world, or at least not one he just wanted to live in. That thought didn’t bother him at all. That’s why he decided what he had to do.
The next day, at the appointed time, he got on the overgrounder. Until now, he hadn’t understood which genius from the Central Council had come up with the idea of naming the bus that way. They lost themselves in a changing reality and in erasing the past. Before it even set off, he found a free seat and sat down. Passing buildings on the way, he allowed himself to think. In seventy years, the surroundings had changed beyond recognition. Despite his old age, he still remembered the stories his ancestors told him about the good old days and the fears of living in a reality that was changing too quickly. As a child, he didn’t understand them at all. After all, there were so many possibilities.
Now, with a supply of relevant life experiences, he had finally found a path to understanding the meaning that flows from these stories. Over the centuries, man has acted the same way every time. With the verve typical of Columbus, he intended to modify the old Earth for his own needs.
Until he achieved the desired state. Unfortunately, just as Adam and Eve weren’t destined to spend eternity in paradise, so humans weren’t destined to remain in this desired state for all time. At some point, the Earth—although it would seem that no one had attributed such a feature to it—like a shrew started to introduce subsequent changes on its own, which in effect began to distance humanity from existence in a reality perfectly adapted to it. This time, without the possibility of returning to the moments of human paradise.
Only his old age made him realize why, at a certain age, more and more people opened up only to the past. The young were only allowed to play with the cards left on the table. He felt a renewed need to reach for the hybrid, but once again forgot that he could not buy it anywhere. He swallowed hard. He almost missed his stop too.
Overgrounders weren’t waiting for anyone. At the last moment, he climbed out of the vehicle and stood in front of the skyscraper administered by the Council. It was completely covered in nanoparticles, absorbing heat from the sun’s rays and converting it into energy that powered the building. Inside, in the basement, they were waiting for him. It was time to check whether these were just empty promises. Before entering, after a routine check—now any person could be a threat to the functioning of the Council—he looked back once more.
The skyscrapers were so close together that they resembled the needles on a hedgehog’s back. He found the thought absurd and sighed quietly, but he just realised that those cute little animals he had learned about in school had died out long ago. He wondered if the same fate awaited humanity. He preferred not to answer.
It took many moments of rest, cursing, and whirling around in circles before he finally reached his destination. He crossed the metal gate and waited. That was what they had agreed on, after all.
The twists and turns he left behind reminded him of the barely describable despair characteristic of Ligotti’s work. Who would have expected that they would censor him as soon as the masses of people began to see in his works what the actions of the Council were leading to? It was good that he had time to familiarize himself with this literature before it mysteriously disappeared from circulation. Seconds slowly stretched into minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Forty. He was about to take the first step back toward the gate when he heard footsteps.
‘Sir Philip Nox himself. They weren’t lying when they wrote about you as a persevering man,’ a male voice said from across the street. He noticed a tall, well-built figure in a checked shirt and black knit trousers. He looked solid. The man was wearing glasses with thin gold frames. A neatly shaved face, and dark brown hair combed to the left. However, he didn’t resemble the man he had spoken to earlier via videophone.
‘Who?’ Nox asked, first knitting his eyebrows.
‘Your superiors.’
There was silence for a moment. Surprise quickly turned into understanding. They almost had to X-ray him. After all, not just anyone could be recruited. Philip Nox stood with his head slightly bowed, waiting. Finally, he glanced at his interlocutor knowingly.
‘Excuse me, where are my manners?’ the man in glasses muttered and sighed quietly. He stepped closer and extended his hand. ‘Derey Tuntz. The boss is waiting for you, sir.’
Philip shook hands and looked ahead. Someone was waiting for him. Such a situation hadn’t happened in years. Following Tuntz, he recalled old moments.
It was his grandfather who showed him a universe of stars. Firstly, he started with a small telescope.
He watched celestial bodies with passion. They were located at distances that, as a little boy, he couldn’t even imagine. Before going to sleep, thinking about the stars, he reached for books written by Stanisław Lem, one of the wielding the pen, who wrote a lot and beautifully about space. Star systems and galaxies absorbed him so much that he could no longer live without that all-powerful blackness above his head. That’s why he took the first steps on the road to leaving the planet. If only he had been born in different times. If only those fucking financiers from the Council and their damn worthless decisions hadn’t existed. Unfortunately, as a result of the dictatorship of the ever-present policy of saving everything possible, humanity had never left the Solar System. It only managed to reach Uranus. He commanded this monumental mission. Engineer Philip Nox, the one among the stars. He fulfilled his dream.
Aside from a prestigious position at an international space agency and leading a few minor mining missions on the Moon and Phobos, the rest of his memories were worth spitting at. The moment the Central Council took over control, funding for space travel was abandoned. Something must have changed, though. Lost in his thoughts, Nox almost jumped in fear when he realised where he had ended up.
‘We’ve reached our destination,’ Tuntz announced, sweeping his hand across the vast research complex. Nox’s gaze swept across the room. The former warehouses were nothing in comparison to this space. He wondered how something so massive had been built beneath the surface. Machines of unknown purpose took up almost the entire area. He hadn’t been given the chance to learn them, since Tuntz passed them without blinking, heading north. Following it, Nox began to approach a machine resembling the former resonance. It was merely part of an astonishing wired structure in black and grey, reaching almost to the ceiling.
Bright green light flowed through the entire device.
It took Philip a moment to realize that a man was standing next to the machine. He could have been his age. Silver, impeccably styled hair, although it had long since been fluffy. A round face, touched by the finger of time. Green eyes that had seen more than one thing. He also wore a light grey suit and polished brown shoes. He recognised this man from somewhere.
‘Tundar Lyyr,’ the stranger said and smiled, then extended his wrinkled hand toward Nox. His surname was pronounced exactly like the name of the hero of Shakespeare’s play, King Lear. ‘It’s nice to see you after all these years.’
Everything became clear. When Nox retired, Lyyr was appointed vice president of the same institution.
‘Are you still working?’ Philip asked, shaking the man’s hand.
‘I know I should really wait until I jump to the stars, but luckily the Earth won’t let me soar that high,’ Lyyr replied, after which they both burst out laughing. Philip understood him perfectly. Stars weren’t associated only with astronomy for them, although the distances between celestial bodies could mean eternity.
‘In such exceptional circumstances, I would like to dispense with this courtesy and pretence and get down to business,’ Tundar declared with complete seriousness.
‘May your will be done,’ Nox replied enigmatically and hugged his interlocutor once more. ‘Philip, after years of trying, I have managed to achieve something almost impossible. Those damn buffoons from the Council have finally agreed to finance my program. According to the multiplying problems of our mother Earth, we will be able to open a new chapter of humanity.’
Nox frowned. He still didn’t know why he had been brought there.
‘I will enable humanity to colonize Mars,’ Lyyr said proudly, strutting like a peacock.
‘How?’ Nox almost shouted. It was a sign that they had him.
‘Extraordinary, Philip, extraordinary,’ Tundar whispered and glanced knowingly at the machine he was standing by. Nox also looked in the same direction.
‘Using this little gem, we won’t have to bear the enormous costs associated with transporting people to terraform the Red Planet.’
‘How is that...’ Nox didn’t finish his question. Lyyr immediately interrupted him. ‘This machine,’ he said, patting the device gently, ‘will enable the conversion of every human consciousness into a digital file. Then it will transform it into light and send it to the base on Mars. There, the light will be modified again and recorded in an artificial body, built of millions of nanostructures. You will have absolute control over it. It doesn’t need oxygen, food, or sleep. It can work non-stop. The only thing I expect from you now is your consent to begin the process of virtualising yourself.’
Philip Nox swallowed hard. He looked at the mysterious invention with concern. Blinking nervously, he made it clear to Tundar that he wasn’t prepared for such news. Yesterday’s videophone conversation with the Council representative seemed easier. Philip also wondered why the man who had contacted him then wasn’t here. What was the catch? The persistent voice in Nox’s head constantly repeated: ‘Be careful, beware, a fraud, don’t believe them.’
‘Forgive me, Tundar, but...’ Philip barely croaked out and moved a few steps away from him, then continued. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to make such a decision.’
Lyyr heard a clear emphasis on the word ‘such’.
‘They were afraid too, Philip,’ Tundar said as calmly as he could.
‘They?’
‘Those who have it all behind them.’
‘Who?’ Philip realised he was shouting again. He no longer recognised himself during this conversation. ‘The best astronauts, ready to follow your orders,’ Lyyr stated, previously narrowing his eyes. Nox froze.
‘Every mission needs a commander. We were looking for the most outstanding. That’s why we contacted you,’ Tundar continued. When he fell silent, he cleared his throat, as if he wanted to add something else. In the end, however, he couldn’t speak.
Philip, as if ignoring his presence, looked at his veiny hands. How much time did he have left? Not much. What will remain of him? The same. The body will be disposed of. Sadly, but along with the mind. In its transferring, he will at least save his consciousness.
‘Is it safe?’ he finally asked.
‘No accidents,’ Lyyr replied, smiling.
‘My life is written in the stars. Among them, I will find my death,’ Nox muttered.
‘Is that a quote?’
‘No. I came up with it myself,’ Philip replied. For the second time that day, they both burst out laughing.
Pain. Dozens of black vines entwine my head. I feel something piercing through my temples. Why does it hurt so much? Did they experience this too? A feeling of discomfort washes over my entire body, but inside my skull, I feel something even worse.
To call it suffering is like saying nothing. It’s like a substitute for agony. I remember when my grandfather said goodbye to the world. A stream of incomprehensible words escaped his lips. He laughed, then cried. I don’t even want to mention how many screams and moans ruined my ears.
It’s coming for me, it’s coming, he whispered, looking around.
As humans, we are all defenceless against the inevitable. This fear of turning off our hearts is like a computer. Click and it’s over. There is no second life. You won’t reappear on the same board where you last saved your game. Just click and you’re gone. But no. You’re still in the memories of others. For a limited time, of course. Assuming you’ve led a life worth remembering. If not, see above.
Slowly, the muscles begin to loosen, just like cut strings that previously provided control over a physical puppet. I blink. With each lowering of my eyelids, I lose something. My hands don’t obey me. My legs too. Inertia. The leaf drifting in the wind is me. It still dances, waves, and suddenly falls into a bottomless pit. It gains weight, transforms into a ball. Finally, it falls into the depths of nothingness, faster and faster. The world I knew has ceased to exist.
Now I am in a new universe. Here, emptiness rules. The most miserable of all queens.
‘Phase one completed,’ a booming voice rang out. It came from everywhere.
‘Excellent, start phase two,’ another one joins him. Where are they coming from, since there is nothing in front of me or behind me? I accelerate. Against all odds, because I should be stuck in one place. Well, that’s what I always thought. Surprise. I’m flying faster and suddenly there’s a collision. I hit another sphere with all my might. Bloody hell, where did it come from? It materialised as if nothing had happened. After the thud, I start to shake. It quickly becomes unbearable.
‘Mr. Lyyr, something’s wrong!’ shouts the same voice that was heard first in this vastness. As a sphere, I’m still able to form my thoughts. I’m shaking so hard I can barely manage it.
‘No! Minds are overlapping!’ someone yells again. Amidst this cacophony of high-pitched sounds, I feel a new impact. Additional sphere appears. Another one. They collide with each other.
‘God, it hurts!’ a previously unknown voice calls out. Madness is within reach.
‘Who’s here? What’s going on?’ a different voice tries to outshout all the others.
‘Please, stop it!’ now can be heard a scream. It’s so strong that it drowns out the other sounds. I finally started to notice a certain pattern. These sounds come from inside the spheres. Before I can ask anything, more materialize. I bounce off them, hitting others. It goes on and on.
‘How much longer will this go on?’ asks one of the tangle of voices. The others groan, shout, sigh. I’m going crazy, I swear.
‘Stop the process, I tell you!’ This sound is not coming from any of the spheres. It comes from somewhere between. This is the only way I can describe this entire vastness.
‘What do you mean to stop it? They’ll die!’ a cry from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. ‘Stop the process, damn it!’
‘I don’t know how! I don’t think it can be done.’
‘What’s going on? What are we talking about?’ asks one of the voices emerging from inside the spheres once again. If only I knew.
‘What the fuck is with this pinball? Are we on Mars already?’
Mars. Mars... Memories are coming back. Colonization. Colo...
‘Turn the system off, I tell you!’
‘And what if they won’t be saved?’
‘What if they transform into a multi-mind and will be sent into outer space? It’ll be a tragedy!’
‘But...’
‘Turn off the system, you idiot!’ the voice from between them becomes too insistent.
Get me out of here! I’m going crazy! Everything at once. Bangs, talking bullets, and screaming out of nowhere. I’m going crazy! Suddenly, as if on command, it goes quiet. The bullets start to fade. They don’t collide with each other anymore. But communication continues.
‘What did they do?’
‘Weird. I think I’m drifting away.’
‘You too?’
‘Such lightness. What’s happening?’
‘They must have…’ the last voice doesn’t finish its thought. It doesn’t have to.
We all know what they did. We’ll stop there because there are no more spheres.
Soon there will be no me either. I still manage to think that death didn’t find me in the stars after all, but God knows where. Somewhere in between.
