I began to wonder if Susan found me so boring that she'd rather spend time with David. I have to admit that, when all of us were together, Susan and David would talk of something completely foreign to me. Once they talked and laughed about Schrödinger's cat. I didn't even know this guy and certainly didn't know his cat. I was surprised that Susan had never mentioned him to me. I seemed to be on the outside, observing a happy couple but unable to join in. I began to get depressed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Part 5.1
It was several days before I learned that the violent shaking was more than just a spatial anomaly. David had been in intimate contact with the Godship and said that we were to go to some remote galaxy and that required moving out of 'normal' space to some sort of subspace. He wasn't sure, but believed that in order to reach the far galaxy, we must move to an alternate universe, a parallel universe. David kept calling it a 'harmonic space' and it was a kind of space-time neighbor within which we could travel without light speed limitations. Apparently there were many such places where we could move between our universe and an alternate, nearby universe; David called them 'brane ports'. Some ports were more difficult to negotiate than others. The galaxy we were seeking, named Maffei-1 according to David, was so remote that light took millions of years to reach planet Earth.
I was curious and asked David: "Why are we going there? I was hoping we'd return to Earth."
"In time, my boy, but now we must assist in a kind of morphological fabrication."
David seemed always to speak in riddles. I was almost afraid to ask.
"A what?"
"The Maffei-1 galaxy is in the constellation Cassiopeia. There are suns in this galaxy that boast planets. On one of these planets life is forming. It has been in progress for a billion years, but now needs guidance."
"What kind of guidance can we give," I asked.
"Our Godship will know what to do, what organic materials to provide, what statistical aberration to enable, what deviation from the norm to implement. After all, one of the most successful scientific theories of the twentieth century, Quantum Theory, asserts itself in a cloak of probability. Imagine what God can do to influence the probabilistic outcome of an event. I do not know in any detail what is intended for these nascent life forms, but it will be fascinating to be present, don't you think?"
"Yes, fascinating."
I was not convinced. Did this God really start the ball rolling, introduce materials for rudimentary life to form, guide its development from time to time, then leave it to its own devices? Was that the way of things, the mechanism by which living things evolved?
"Okay, David, what exactly will the Godship do when we reach this planet?"
"I have little understanding of the process," David said, "but I believe the life is a single celled organism, a zygote that seems to lack the ability to regulate its internal environment, to reproduce. The appropriate genetic structure is lacking. Godship will show the way."
David warmed to the subject. He was enthusiastic, almost effervescent.
"Ah, Gordon, imagine the challenges that confront God. The first signs of cell creation from supplied organic molecules, with God's help–the introduction of the DNA helix, the implementation of cell division carrying the genetic code, the first multi-cellular creations, the prelude to cell differentiation."
"Are there life forms that think?" I asked. "Intelligent life, somewhere in the galaxy? I assume these simple cells don't think, do they?"
"Think? No, of course not. That will come–maybe I should say that may come in another billion years. Some experiments fail, I'm afraid. However, to answer your question, there is most certainly intelligent life in the universe. We have some on board Gilgamesh. Perhaps we will find others."
Part 5.2
It seemed like weeks before we reentered normal space. Again there was intense vibration as we passed through what David had called a 'brane port', a gateway between our universe and some other space-time cosmos. During the time we were in the alternate reality, I saw nothing but darkness through the various portholes throughout the Godship. This so-called parallel universe didn't seem much like ours; there were no stars. When I asked David, he said it was just dark matter and dark energy–no visible mass. Indeed, he said, even our universe contains less than five percent normal matter. The rest is 'dark'.
"Dark energy," I said. "Lots of dark energy, everywhere in the vacuum of space. That's amazing, don't you think?"
"Yes indeed," David said. "And, just in case you wondered, that's where the energy comes from that propels our Godship."
"The Godship extracts energy from the empty space? Is that what you're saying?"
"Ah Gordon, my boy, empty space is not empty. As I just noted, it's filled with dark energy–and the Godship knows how to use it. Dark energy is also required to contain the mini black holes. In a sense, dark energy is a property of space and opposes the gravitational attraction of black holes. It's what keeps the universe from contracting due to the gravitational affinity of matter. Without such containment, Godship could not transport black holes. The dark energy containers holding our black holes are a kind of distorted space, a lopsided jar, as it were, within which the mini black holes persist."
"Exactly how does our Godship extract this dark energy, to move the ship? Some kind of energy pump which sucks up the energy and, somehow… uh. Somehow…"
"Gordon, my boy, only God and his Godships know how that is accomplished." David was all smiles. He was happy to leave this knowledge to Gilgamesh.
When the transit vibrations had ceased, I went to the nearest alcove to look out the porthole. The sun was bluish-white and brilliant. I expected to see other Godships, intent upon this mission, but there were none. David came to stand beside me.
"Soon we will stop at the planet," he said. "I have learned our mission. The simple one-celled life forms lack the aptitude for self expression, to generate multiples of themselves. We must introduce the helix so that accurate cell division can proceed. It will be..."
"Wait! Are you saying that God will simply change the structure of these organisms? He just waves his hand and they become self generating? If so, why doesn't he just change them into the final product, a human with a small brain and a large ego?"
"Ah, Gordon my boy, that is not the way God works. You must know that by now. He guides, he assists, he motivates but allows natural processes to operate."
"Operate with his guidance, I presume."
"Yes, of course. Always with his guidance. After his fashion, he uses the probabilistic nature of the cosmos to influence outcomes. For this life form, God will simply introduce a random contact between amino acids to generate a double stranded nucleic acid helix: DNA. Then he waits to see if the cells can employ this novel device for flawless cell mitosis, to create identical daughter cells."
"And if it works," I said, "we head off again. If it fails, then what?"
"If the cells have the double helix and cannot use it to their advantage, then they will die. An experiment gone bad. Extinction. It's happened many times and will happen many more times."
"So we wait here until we see...what? Multi-cellular creatures with a highway for ingested food: mouth, gut and anal orifice?"
"No, we will not wait. I've said it before. God then leaves these creatures to their own devices–and the natural laws that he has bestowed upon the universe."
"So God helps, then we head home, to planet Earth, right?" I asked, hoping for an affirmation of our next journey.
"Yes, that is my understanding," David said, frowning.
David didn't seem to bubble with enthusiasm. He acted as though there may be other stops before Earth. Little did I know the truth of that notion and the extent of our journey home.
Part 5.3
"Deep in thought, I see."
I was staring out the alcove porthole. I turned and saw Susan standing in the corner. She had just come through the wall and looked marvelous, dressed in a white gown wit
h a dark blue scarf wrapped about her neck and what looked like a necklace of pearls.
"Yes," I said. "I was wondering what will become of us, you and me, when this is over."
"Oh Gordon, relax and enjoy the adventure. It will never be over. It will go on and on. The God of the Godships will see to it that we survive and flourish. There will be children, children beneath the sea, children who will prosper amid the creatures that ride the waves, children who .."
"Who will breath, underwater," I said in jest.
Susan looked surprised.
"Gordon, you silly man, of course. How else can they live in the world's oceans? Imagine the freedom, a three-dimensional existence, at long last man's dream come true; the ability to fly."
"Will we breathe, beneath the sea?" I asked. I couldn't believe what she was saying. Susan obviously knew something I didn't know. Living in the sea? When? Where?
"Us? You and me and David? Beneath the sea? No...but our children or our children's children–they will. Okay, that's enough star gazing. Come with me. We've been invited to a special dinner with David and friends."
"Friends? What friends?"
"Just follow me," she said and turned toward the far wall.
"Susan, where did you get that outfit, the pearl necklace? A gift from David?"
Susan looked back at me with a smirk.
"Psychic mandate," she said. "By now you should know that."
Then she walked through the wall.
Part 5.4
There was a long table in a dimly lit room. I could make out Susan and David and, beside David was Tiesha. All seats were taken except one, beside Hydra, Susan's android clone. I sat in that empty chair and looked about as the room brightened. There were perhaps a dozen people sitting at the table. I didn't recognize any others–except one looked familiar. Susan saw that I was staring.
"These people are experiments, android trials. Do you recognize Gordon Blend," she said, pointing to one particular person. "It's your proxy, your substitute. It's quite a good likeness, don't you think?"
I stared at the android. It had an annoying smirk.
"Did you say 'substitute'? What does that mean?"
Susan looked upset. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I meant to say that the likeness was...it was created so that..."
"So that it might take your place in situations that were deleterious to your health," David said.
"Damn it! Deleterious to my health? What the hell does that mean?"
"Oh Gordon," Susan said, "David is just kidding. Your proxy is just an experiment, a morphological investigation, a mechanism for Gilgamesh, for Godship, for God to test certain animation rituals and durability characteristics. All these individuals are experiments, prototypes and they are now practicing human comportment. Do you notice anything unusual about your proxy?"
I leaned over the table. The lights became brighter. My proxy rotated its head. It had gills! Shit! IT HAD GILLS!
"Does it breathe in water?" I said, almost shouting.
"No, it breathes air and extracts oxygen, just as you and I," David said, almost in a whisper. "The gill slits are an experiment, in an early stage. Currently, it has no physiological significance. But soon..."
I looked again. This android alternate-me…its gills were quivering on the side of the neck. I looked at the others at the table. I didn't recognize any, though many had brown skin like the Kuna natives from Panama. They were all smiling, a silly, foolish smile. And their eyes; all red.
I couldn't sleep, thinking of the next days and weeks, hoping we would soon be home on planet Earth. Susan was sound asleep when I crawled out of bed and headed for the nearest alcove. I needed to see if I recognized any constellations or, better still, planets in the solar system. I hoped that solar system planets were nearby. A foolish hope. I passed through several walls–I had become very good at finding my way–and was surprised to see someone there, by the porthole. When I was nearer he said: "Hello Gordon Blend." His voice was deep and resonant and I didn't recognize it. When he turned about to face me, I squinted to see in the dim light. He raised his hand and the lights became brighter. Good God! It was Gordon Blend, my proxy, the android with the imperfect gill structure. The gills were still there and his eyes seemed entirely black with huge irises.
"Uh...hello," I said, my voice shaking. "Are we looking for the same thing?"
"What thing is that," he said.
"Recognizable star formations."
He turned to look out the porthole. "But they are all recognizable," he said.
"I see. So, are you as knowledgeable as David?"
"I am Godship," he said. "I know all that Godship knows. I am its construct, its device, its tool, its instrument, its...."
"Then you know about God and his great plan," I said, not sure I wanted to hear the answer, but hoping this android would explain our mission, our destination, our terminus.
"God works in mysterious ways," he said. Did he really say that? How often had I heard that! He was clearly programmed.
"Yes, mysterious, yet he must know what he's doing–so you must know."
"God plays with the probabilities, the inherent randomness at the sub atomic scale. It influences outcomes. My image of God is a probability distribution." He chuckled.
That seemed, to me, a reasonable explanation. Perhaps there was no actual entity, just randomness–but then what created the cosmos? No, I suspected that a God would be more substantial.
My proxy smiled, as though he had told a joke. "Yes," he said, "a probability distribution. That's an apt description. It induces abnormalities, random novelties, innovations that may assist a life form."
This android then began to laugh, coarse and raucous. He seemed amused by the thought.
"Okay," I said, "what is your opinion on our mission, to planet Earth?"
The android suddenly became serious.
"I am sorry for my inappropriate outburst," he said. "I am slowly learning the way...the correct way to illustrate amusement. Humor is an exotic commodity, don’t you think? If God plays with probabilities, as it most surely does, then my image is that of a distribution of random probabilities. I am sorry. It was indecorous of me, totally inappropriate and..."
"Don't worry about it," I said. "However, I notice you refer to God as an 'it', not a 'he'. Is God an 'it'?"
The android twisted his face so that the gills bulged on the side of his neck. He looked pained, confused.
"Is God a 'he'?" he asked. "Is God a 'he'. Is God a 'he'. Is God..."
"Okay, I'm sorry I asked. "Can we go to my original question, about our mission to Earth?
"If God is 'it', then God is a neuter pronoun." The android gurgled. "That is ludicrous, whimsical, is it not? Would that be a joke, a witticism, a pun, a quip?"
The android was distraught, his lips vibrating but without sound. He walked away, into the dim recesses of the room. I began to follow him, but he seemed to have vanished. I hope I have a chance to meet him again. He seemed to have intimate knowledge of Godship intentions, perhaps in more detail than David or Susan. I suspect I was the only idiot on board.
Part 5.5
The next morning, when I awoke, Susan was gone. I quickly washed, shaved, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, slipped into a comfortable robe and walked through the nearest wall. I've become blase to the appearance of objects such as toothbrush and comb and the sudden opening and closing of wall openings. It now seemed perfectly natural for objects to appear then disappear. It was also perfectly natural to walk through a wall.
David and Susan were deep in conversation when I arrived for breakfast. We always met for breakfast. Often, throughout the day, there was little communication, but breakfast was our regulation meeting event–so why did they seem startled to see me?
"Oh, Gordon," Susan said. "I thought you were going to snooze a while. You looked so weary."
"Not weary," I said. "A little confused, perhaps a little wary, clearly a little apprehensive."
Susan smiled then continued to talk to David in almost a whisper. Were they ignoring me? What was so important that they had to whisper?
"God is a probability distribution," I said.
David's head spun about to face me. He looked confused, then he grinned.
"Aah, you've been talking to Gill. He's quite a fellow, don't you think?"
"Gill?" I asked. "Who the hell is Gill?"
"Oh Gordon, you silly man," Susan groaned. "Don't you remember? He's your android duplicate. He has a wonderful sense of humor. Once, he said that God plays dice with the universe. Isn't that hilarious?"
"Yes, hilarious." I wondered why they never told me the name of my android proxy. Gill? That was certainly befitting.
Tiesha joined us for a breakfast of waffles and syrup and apple juice and black coffee. She looked absolutely radiant, her gown azure, her hair falling about her shoulders, caramel skin glowing in the dim light.
"Good morning," she said.
I almost swallowed my fork. Tiesha could speak English!
"Pura Vida," I said, remembering that that was one of the few things she said when I first met her. She put her hand over her mouth and blushed. She was beautiful. I felt embarrassed that I had come to breakfast in my robe.
"Embarrassed?" Tiesha whispered. "You fine looking."
Could she read my mind? Was she, too, being assimilated into the Godship milieu? Was I the only character who couldn't read minds?
"Gordon," Susan said, "couldn't you have at least put on a shirt?"
I looked at David. He was in a dark gray suit and white cravat. I couldn't remember whether he always dressed like that. Overkill, for breakfast? I looked at Susan. Her dress was violet gossamer, almost transparent. Damn! I was a slob and my wife was see-through!
"Sorry," I said, then left without finishing my breakfast.
"Please come back, Gordie."
I turned to see who spoke. It was Tiesha.
"You really fine. You really handsome, you wear anything and look fine."
I looked from Tiesha to Susan. Susan wasn't smiling. I returned to the table and quickly finished my breakfast. Tiesha was still smiling, watching me eat. When I left, she followed me.
We had to pass through several partitions to get to my room. Usually, one through-the-wall passage was sufficient, but I never understood why it often required several passages. Tiesha was at my side. Maybe Godship was confused as to my destination. When we got to my room, I thought a room divider and when it appeared I went behind to change into something more appropriate. No sooner had I let my robe fall to the floor than Tiesha was there, watching me, smelling of lilac. Lilac? That was Susan's perfume. Did the Godship know just this one aroma? I bent to retrieve my robe to cover my nakedness, but she kicked it away.