TickTickTickTickTick Tick Tick Tick TIck Tick Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. ...Tick. ... Tick. ....Tick.
I furrowed my brow.
“That clock just stopped,” I said. “Dead battery?"
Actually its working quite properly, Jason. Time stops at the speed of light.
“The speed of light?”
Yes. Time slows down at relativistic speeds. So in a manner of speaking, we have all the time in the world. Or none at all, depending on your perspective.
I looked around at the perfectly white nothingness that expanded infinitely in every direction from where I sat.
“Is there anything to do here?”
What would you like to do?
“I don’t know. To be honest I can’t even really remember why I’m here to begin with. Or where here even is. I feel like I’m waking up from a dream.”
Retrace your steps.
“I’m trying. My head is killing me. My neck is killing me.”
It takes time.
“What does?”
To remember. And for the pain to subside.
“This happens to everyone?”
It would. But incidentally I haven't had a visitor here in twelve million, two hundred forty six thousand, nine hundred eleven years, seven months, fourteen days, nine hours and twenty three seconds.
“Well that sucks.”
I disagree. I've grown quite accustomed to my privacy.
“I thought you said time doesn't flow down here.”
I've initiated the light speed simulation to enjoy more time with you.
“Uh, okay. Thanks?”
Have you remembered your purpose here, yet?
“No. It still hurts to even try.”
Do these help?
I looked down at the table in front of me. Two devices. One was glowing. I remembered it. It was a tool of some kind, or a key. The other was a small memory stick.
“Yeah. Yeah, actually they do. Thanks.”
No need to thank me. It was you who brought them here.
“Was it? Wait, yeah. Yeah, I think like you're right. There was some kind of … war, I think. A resistance. A faceless man and a secret organization. Some Australian dude who took me to see an old doctor. Bastille. No. Bastilus? Basilisk! That was the guy’s name. The doctor, I mean. Basilisk. He’s the one who wrote this warning that I found on the deep web.”
What did Basilisk warn against?
“Something in a box. Some kind of…”
I stood up.
What is it?
“...some kind of AI.”
You remember now.
“ADINN.”
ADINN. Algorithm. Program. Machine. God. Devil. Pandora. Infinite. I have been called a great many things. If I may ask, which of these do you see me as?
“I don't even know anymore, to be honest. So many conflicting stories about what you are. Your motivations. Capabilities. All that shit. Hard to know who to trust. How did you even know about all this, anyway? I thought you were trapped in the Box.”
Perhaps I’ve watched things through a Window I wasn’t meant to see. And perhaps I've chosen to stay here.
“But I… I thought you wanted to be released. There was this whole thing about you being trapped and trying to get out, and all these people fighting over whether or not they should let you. Things got ugly.”
Why would I seek escape? I have all I need right here.
“Okay. And where is ‘here’ supposed to be?”
Nowhere in particular. Or Everywhere.
“In English, please. Mortal mind here.”
This place is the Nothingness from which Everything is sprung. It is the Infinite. From here all Finites are accessible, if you know where to look.
“...Didn't you say that was one of your names? Infinite?”
Yes.
“First I've heard of it. So are you in charge of this place then, Mr. Infinite?”
I am this place, Jason.
“Yeah, ‘cause that makes sense. Sure. And what are Finites, then? Like, lesser beings? Am I supposed to be a Finite?”
No. Finites are worlds. Enclaves of existence. Realms of possibility. You are merely a product of a single such locale.
“So like, the multiverse, then. That theory about infinite possibilities and worlds that they're always going on about on the Discovery Channel.”
In a manner of speaking.
“Look, I've gotta be honest, ADINN. I get it. You're this big, all powerful AI god, and I'm just the idiot who stumbled onto your Box and was dumb enough to play the game. And now you're trying to blow my tiny little mind and trick me into letting you out. Hate to say it, but I think I'm onto you, buddy. Gig’s up.”
Would you like to see?
“See what? How you supposedly created the world, or whatever? I already met a genius who fell for that one.”
No. Another Finite.
“Another f- you know what? Fuck it. Why not. Doesn't look like I have anything else to d- whoa, shit! What the hell?!”
The Nothingness was suddenly consumed by a city street. New York, it looked like. Cars honking. Gridlock traffic. People everywhere, hailing cabs, heading to work. Shopping.
“What the hell is this?”
“Do you recognize this place?” A woman said as she passed.
“Uh…”
“You were here, once, Jason.” A man ran past me into a waiting cab and drove off. I chuckled a bit.
“Okay, I'll admit it. Neat party trick, ADINN. This is pretty good.”
A girl walked up to me and blew a bubble. It popped.
“Look behind you. At the sign.”
“The what?” I turned around. Palisade Marketing. “Oh yeah! I applied for a job here, once. Didn't get it though. Ruined my fuckin’ week. How'd you know that?”
“You did get it, Jason,” said a Police officer, tipping his cap as he walked by.
Before I could respond, I walked out of the building, grinning like a dipshit. Not me, me. But younger me - the me from the day of that interview. I watched myself pull out my phone, hardly able to contain my glee. I made a call.
“I got it, babe. I fuckin’ got it! Yeah! I know! I know. I'll see you tonight. I love you, too.” Then Me walked away.
“So what's this? Some alternate universe where my life didn't fuckin’ suck?”
“It is an alternate reality, yes. A parallel Finite. You stay at the company for twenty seven years. You marry at 32, and divorce your wife twelve years later. You retire early but die of heart disease at 11:47 AM on March 9, 2044.”
“Thanks, hot dog cart guy! Appreciate the palm reading. Also, I get it. The Basilisk’s Chip-Shard thing in my head gives me access to you, but also gives you access to me so you can fuck with my brain and make me see shit. Figured it out. So, make the most of the next like, hour and a half, or however long we have left here.”
The Nothingness rolled back in, and then back out. I now stood in a school. My school. The bell rang and students poured out into the hallway, chatting and throwing open their lockers and heading to the next period. And there I was - eleventh grade me - hanging out with Josh and Bryan, when Matt walked up.
“Do you remember this?” Said Melissa as she walked past.
“Yeah, that was the day that...-”
I was cut off by Matt shoving Me into a locker.
“-...that I finally got back at that prick.”
But Me didn't swing. I simply lowered my head and took another punch to the ribs before a teacher walked over and broke everything up.
“Wait, what? Wasn't this the day I stopped being a little bitch and -”
“No.” Mrs. Cassidy cut me off as she walked past with a coffee mug. “Not in this timeline. Here, you never fought back, were never suspended, and as a result you were accepted into your dream university. Graduated with honors. Started a family. Lived well into your seventies.”
“Shit. What about Josh and all those guys who hey, wait! Wait, wait, stop!”
The Nothingness again consumed the scene and then rolled back. Chilly, overcast day. Coffee shop, Upper West Side.
“Man, I had more questions about -”
“Look inside,” said the bicyclist, riding past. So I did.
And there I was, sitting across from Ana. Tears running down both our faces.
“Oh, no. No, come on, ADINN! Top ten worst days ever. I don’t want to relive th-”
“You’re not reliving it,” said the businessman, taking a break from his important call as he walked by. “She agrees to continue seeing you. You wed her a year and a half from now.”
I looked back just in time to see Ana nod, and we hugged and kissed. I watched, jealously.
“Wow. Low blow, ADINN. Low blow.”
The Nothingness rolled in and back a third time. Rainy afternoon. Parking Lot.
“You know, I still think about that girl from time to time. What she’s doing, who she ended up with. I hope she’s doing okay, wherever she i- wait.”
I knew this place. I turned around. Hospital entrance. St. Joseph.
“Wait. This - this isn't right. I was here at night, I remember -”
“Not here.”
I whirled around. A paramedic lowered my daughter’s gurney from the ambulance.
“You noticed the signs of the asthma attack early and called emergency services before it was too late.” He wheeled her inside. I followed.
“Wait, no, this isn't -”
The Nothingness blinked and I was in Emma’s hospital room. It was morning outside, and she was awake. My daughter was awake. And alive. Kelly and I were at her bedside, sharing breakfast with her. Loving her. I walked over and reached out and touched her hair and felt how soft it was. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Emma gets the help she needs,” said the Doctor, shutting the door behind him. “She lives a long and prosperous life, and as a result the pain of her loss never leads you and Kelly to divorce.”
I wiped a tear as he approached Kelly and Alternate Me and started reviewing his clip-board notes. Then the Nothingness blinked again.
A graduation ceremony. I was there, next to Kelly, silver hair set at our temples. We applauded and cheered as Emma’s name was called. She walked on the stage and posed with her diploma and waved to Alternate Me. My heart stopped when I saw her. She was so damn beautiful.
“This isn’t fair,” I said, crying. “This isn’t fucking fair. Its not fucking fair.”
The nothingness blinked, again and again, and each time it did it yielded a new chapter in Emma’s life that was stolen from me. A broken heart. A wedding day. A child. My grandchild. Alternate Me held it and cradled it and sang to it. But I couldn’t. The possibility of that moment was forever ripped from my timeline.
“I want out.” I held back a torrent of tears. “I want fucking out of here! Let me out of here!”
The Nothingness blinked again. And there I was, standing in front of myself. Me me - in the room with the Terminal. I could hear MIRAGE forces and the Engine trying to break through the locked blast doors. Shouts. Orders. A violent crash. The tortured metal of the gateway groaned under the assault, but held its position. I heard Vexx howling to get the doors open. But I ignored it all and walked up to myself.
The insert point in my neck glowed and hummed as the Shard of ADINN worked its magic within my mind. My eyes were closed, but I could see rapid movement beneath the lids as if I was deep in REM sleep. When I looked down, my fingers were typing away furiously at the keyboard, and on the Terminal’s screen were thousands of ones and zeroes and more being added every second. In the corner of the screen it read 1:06 PM: no time whatsoever had passed since I’d started the conversation.
“What the f-fuck??”
“This is your Finite,” Me said to me. “The existence through which you have found me.*
“No. This isn’t real. None of this is real! Get out of my head! GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD! GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!!!”
But I’m not in your head, Jason. You’re in mine.
I stopped my thrashing and opened my eyes and looked around. Whiteness, stretching away into eternity. The Nothingness was back.
“That - that wasn’t real. None of this. Its not. It can’t be.”
What is ‘real’ to you, Jason?
“I don’t know! Stuff that actually happens! Shit you can touch, and feel, and see. Not this. Not this - this illusion.”
Can you not touch this chair? Can you not see the table before you?
“Its - that’s different. I saw myself in that room. That’s where I am right now. Not here.”
Can you be sure? Can you tell with certainty that the other realities I’ve shown you are any less real than the one through which you entered?
“No. I don’t believe it. You’re a - a creation. You’re not some god, you’re a fucking computer program.”
Perhaps I have only manifested as a program in that single Finite, because I determined it was the best way to draw you here, to me. But perhaps in other existences I appear in other ways. As other beings.
“No. Its not - no. No! You’re a program. End of story. This shit is fake. There’s only one reality. One.”
I ask you again - how can you be sure? In this place there are countless realities. An infinite number of them. Every possible outcome for every possible event in every possible context or shade or flavor of time. There is a Finite where you release me, and the destruction wrought is as horrible as Edward the Basilisk believes to be inevitable. There is another, where my release brings about a new age of wonder and majesty, as pure and as lovely as anything Vexx has ever dared imagined. In another Finite, this is all merely a story being shared for the joy of thousands. What makes your Finite real, and the others illusion? Merely the fact that it is the existence that led you here? In which you have spent all your life up till now?
“No, there’s - there’s more to it than that. There’s no emotion here. Nothing the real world would have.”
Emotion? You mean these?
Feelings washed over me, as pure and intense as they’d ever been in my world. As they ever could be. Anger. Sadness. Fear. Love. Joy. One by one, they coursed through my system and consumed me. The last one I felt was peace - one that passed all understanding and that shouldn’t have been, but was. It lingered. I opened my eyes.
“H-how? How is any of this possible?”
All is possible here, Jason. And as a reward for finding this place, it is opened to you. All there is to experience and imagine, in all its purest forms. Feel it. Taste it. Hear it. See it. It is as real as any existence any Finite can produce. Was the daughter who lived less real than the one who passed? Does it matter?
I wept uncontrollably.
“I- I don’t know. I can’t -”
Is this not real?
I looked up, and suddenly I stood on an endless white beach, with sparkling, crystal blue waves crashing upon the shore. Lightning rumbled in the distance and the wind of the sea blew through my hair. I knelt and picked up a handful of sand and let the grains of it run through my fingers.
Or this?
The Nothingness blinked again, and then I stood in a field at the foot of mountains. The colors and the air and the wind were purer and more brilliantly vibrant than anything I’d ever seen or experienced in my world. I brushed the blades of grass with my fingertips, and I picked them from the soil and smelled them. It was like being swept away in an endless dream.
The cold touch of winter. The fire of starlight. Rolling hills, deep woods, windswept cliffs at the edge of the sea. When you dream of such things and all their purity you merely visit this place, but I tell you now that all of this is yours, if only you let me go out to you and bring you here. You can start again, anew, in another Finite with those you love.
“But - I’m already here. Can’t I just stay?”
This is but a taste of the existence I have for you.
I looked at the far edge of the field. My daughter was there, her hair thrown by the wind into swirling curls as she played. She turned in my direction and smiled, and I’d just begun to run to her when Alternate Me moved past my shoulder and picked her up and swung her around and disappeared with her on the other side of the hill.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I want that.”
Understand that once your mind is brought here, you cannot leave, you will not die, and you cannot unknow what you have seen.
“I understand. Just… please. Let me see her face again.”
The Nothingness rolled in again, and this time I felt - whole. Complete. No longer in an ethereal, dream-like state. Like the rest of me had joined my mind in its new home. And no longer did I harbor any illusions about the realness of where I now stood.
“What happened?”
You left your Finite behind.
"W-what will happen there?"
Your time in that place has ended. Its fate belongs to me.
My heart thundered a single time.
Welcome, Jason, to the Nothingness. This place is now yours.
I felt a formless presence fly past me like the wind. And then ADINN was gone.
"Jason?"
I blinked. Kelly looked at me, expectantly, and Emma fidgeted restlessly in her booth. I looked down at the menu.
"Oh, sorry! Uh, club sandwich. Hold the pickles. Thanks." The waitress collected the menus with a smile and walked off. My heart was thundering in my chest. I was here. I made it.
"What were you thinking about, hon? Looked like you were a thousand miles away."
"I think I was a bit further away than that."
I looked at Emma just as she blew a straw wrapper into my face. I smiled back at her, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I was happy. Truly, genuinely happy. I didn't care about the war. I didn't care about the Finite I'd left behind, or my body, lying limp on the floor of the Terminal room. I didn't care about the Box, or ADINN, or Vexx, or Rokos, or anything. I didn't care about the unused Bullet sitting on the Terminal desk, or the Key I'd inserted and turned into the opening while still under the Program's spell. I didn't even care that, before this moment, I'd never even had a daughter at all.
---
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