The Base was breaking up.
The sound of the storm had woken David, and he left his bed to look through the window of his comfortable quarters. It was past dawn, and by the early morning light, he was able to see that the base was slowly vanishing.
The two-storey administration block to his left had not disappeared, but it was translucent and fading rapidly from view. David turned away, thinking it was an optical illusion, but when he looked back, the building had gone. The place where it stood was now a featureless expanse of tundra.
Fear galvanised David into action. He changed into outdoor clothing and, realising that his quarters might not be there on his return, threw a few possessions into a rucksack before leaving the hut. The wind almost knocked him off his feet, and he battled his way through the storm, head down, without any clear idea of where he was going. It was tough going, visibility was poor, and he soon lost all sense of direction. After an hour or more of aimless wandering, he was exhausted, and he blundered blindly forward, almost colliding with a huge overhanging rock. It was a lucky find, and he crawled underneath as far as he could go to escape from the worst of the freezing wind. He could not stand upright in the confined space and curled up on the floor with his rucksack as a pillow. It was cold, but he was reasonably comfortable and fell into a troubled sleep.
Sol, Rogers, and McCloud did not know where they were.
Sol could normally navigate accurately through any conditions, but time after time, he failed to find the place he intended. Sol put it down to a malfunction caused by his recent incapacitation, but he did not confide in his companions. True enough, they had reactivated him, but he suspected that they were the ones who brought him down in the first place. They had virtually admitted the fact, but they were not telling him all they knew.
There was also the small point that if he had calculated the proper motions of the stars correctly, Rogers and McCloud died almost two thousand years ago.
He had double-checked by measuring the changes in constellations due to the proper motion of stars and compared their current shapes against the ones in an older star catalogue; the results concurred with the previous readings to within a century—an acceptable margin of error. The storm had almost burned itself out, and the sun shone dimly behind the heavy clouds. Sol was about to leave the space where the Headquarters building had once stood when a circular blue light in the distance shone brightly for a moment or two and then vanished.
Sol said, "Did either of you see that?"
"The blue light?" Rogers asked. "Yes, I saw it."
"Me, too, said McCloud.
"Any idea what it was?" said Sol, searching their faces for any indication they might be lying.
"I don't know," said McCloud, "but it is the first sign of life that we have seen today. Shall we take a look?"
The three of them walked in the direction of the light. The snow-covered ground was starting to melt, and they quickly covered a considerable distance. Sol was beginning to think they must have passed the place when the blue light suddenly appeared again, this time dead ahead. The circle now seemed huge, and the light was so brilliant that the two men covered their eyes to escape the glare. They heard a shout of surprise from somebody unseen, and the circumference of the light began to rapidly diminish.
"It's a door!" exclaimed Sol and ran forward in an attempt to stop it from closing, but he was too late, and the circular door slammed shut. Sol searched for an edge so that he could try to prise it open with his powerful fingers, but it was a seamless fit, and the silver surface now showed no trace of a break.
A close inspection of the object revealed it to be a cylinder three hundred feet long. It had a diameter of fifty feet and a height of one hundred and fifty feet, all dimensions calculated by Sol. There were no windows or any visible means of propulsion, assuming that it was a craft of some sort. Despite the lack of aerodynamic features, this was the consensus agreement. It was fairly substantial in size but gave no clue as to what kind of cargo it carried. There was no way in, and we were at a loss as to what to do next.
David had improbably slept for some time in his little cave, and when he awoke, he saw that beyond the shadow of the rock, it was light outside. He crawled out, blinking in the strong sunlight, and stood up to get his bearings. The air was sparkling clear, and he was standing in the corner of a huge and empty plain. The base had disappeared, and not one building remained standing. There was no debris, no abandoned equipment, and no sign of the people who had once lived here.
In the distance, he could see the familiar snow-capped peaks and, above him, the clear blue sky. According to the position of the sun, it was mid-afternoon, and despite his predicament, the stark beauty of this now wilderness resonated in his body and mind. He felt a connection with these mountains, a sense of belonging, and the intense silence was a comfort rather than a threat.
None of the ground at this level looked even faintly arable and capable of bearing crops, but on the lower slopes, wildflowers still bloomed among the grasses and ferns. It had been a clean sweep within a precisely designated area, as if a cosmic magician tasked with providing entertainment for the gods of these mountain peaks had thrown his cape over the base and instantly snatched it back to reveal the mountain plain as it was in the beginning, before the advent of man.
Where were all the missing people? Where were the fields that they tended with so much care?
David became acutely aware of how little he knew about the universe and the shortness of his lifespan, that brief candle flicker of existence. This did not cause him to despair but inspired him to humility and acceptance of his given place in an unknowable universe. The moment changed him forever, and he walked across the revealed bedrock of the plateau, completely at peace with his surroundings and himself, more like a spirit than a creature of flesh and blood. Oblivious to time passed or distance covered, he dimly registered the sound of somebody shouting and turned his head to listen. There was another loud 'Hello,' and he saw the unmistakable figure of Sol standing less than a hundred yards away.
David recounted his experiences to Sol but completely ignored the presence of Sol's two companions, McCloud and Rogers. He did not even ask who they were or how they had survived the base's disappearance. McCloud and Rogers were equally reticent and showed no inclination to converse with David. It was all very odd, but Sol held his judgment.
The cylinder remained silent, with no sign of any life within, but they gathered around the silver cylinder as men in a park would sit by a tree when it offered neither shade nor shelter. There was no purposeful place to go on the desolate plain other than to find the cliff edge and climb down the mountain in the hope of finding somewhere more hospitable to life, but they were reluctant to move. The rocky descent would be difficult and highly dangerous if the storm returned. The three men were curiously apathetic, overwhelmed by their perilous situation, and unwilling to offer an opinion.
Sol cast a critical eye over his three human colleagues and assessed their vulnerability. The men had no food or water, and when darkness came, the temperature would plunge dramatically. Their only chance would be to find some kind of natural shelter in the rocks, but even that would not guarantee survival. Sol would be mostly untroubled by severe cold and did not need sustenance, but he could not think of how to help his companions. It was too late to try a descent now, but if the men survived the night, there was no alternative but to try and climb down the mountain tomorrow. AI had governed this planet for two thousand years, and it was hard to imagine what kind of world they would find at ground level, but it was certain death to stay here.
Steven looked at the cylinder, and the landing of Noah's Ark on Mount Ararat after the flood came unbidden to his mind, but this craft seemed unwilling to offer refuge. He mulled over the possibility of Sol making an assault on the cylinder and forcing entry, but it was a very substantial construction and almost certainly possessed defence systems capable of beating off any attack.
Sol suddenly raised his hand to get the attention of the group.
"We are being observed," he said. "My sensors have picked up monitoring activity from the craft."
Sol compared the three men relative to the intensity of scrutiny each was receiving from the craft.
"You seem to be their principal interest, David," said Sol, "but I am getting extraordinarily little feedback on Rogers and McCloud... oh, I see. Yes, that's it," he said but did not elaborate.
"Examination over," he said a few seconds later.
"Now what?"
As if in reply, the door began to reopen, but the blue light was much dimmer than before.
"Considerate of them," murmured Sol.
Standing in the entrance, waiting to greet them were the same two attendants who had previously escorted them to see the Tribus. It may have been a shock, but the three men and Sol trooped through the door without hesitation into a tubular glass corridor with a metal pathway for a floor. The glass was opaque, and they could see nothing of what lay on the other side. As they walked, Sol was calculating the distance covered, and it was soon apparent that they had exceeded the length of the cylinder as measured from the outside.
"This is impossible," said David.
Sol had suspected that this might happen, which went some way to explaining the disappearance of the base.
"Later," he said.
Eventually, the attendants reached double doors that were a replica of the originals on the base. They could even have been the same doors. They each grasped a handle and pulled the doors open, stepping to one side to let them enter a brightly lit hall.
Standing on a podium at the rear was a man Rogers and McCloud instantly recognised.
They ran forward to greet him, and the three of them embraced.
"Professor Jarvis, I presume," said Sol to David.
The three men talked excitedly together, oblivious of their surroundings, until Jarvis separated himself and turned to face Sol and David.
"My apologies, we have allowed the excitement of our reunion to overcome our manners. Welcome to all of you, and you, sir," he said, addressing David, "I offer my sincere gratitude for your help in aiding my escape. I owe you a debt that I can never repay."
"You owe me nothing, Professor Jarvis, it was your comrades, McCloud and Rogers, who made it possible," David replied. "I was an unwitting instrument, but I consider it an honour to have played a part in the release of the legendary founder of the resistance movement."
Sol was about to say something when, from the back of the room, came the melodic chimes of an approaching Tribus. Everybody stopped talking, and Jarvis stepped down from the podium to join the rest of the group. The chimes slowly intensified in sound, but it was a full minute before she came into sight, and on reaching the edge of the podium, she outstretched her arms in welcome.
"Our journey together is ending, and I am pleased that it ends in victory. The machines do not occupy this world and have returned to their distant home. We, the Tribus, will also return to our sphere of existence. You will understand that we have diverged this world onto a different path, an alternative future where humans are free from machine rule. However, the transition was not without problems."
McCloud raised his hand for permission to speak.
"You will not interrupt," said the Tribus, and McCloud instantly dropped his arm to his side.
"A divergence that takes place in a world in retrospect cannot fail to produce casualties. People who died in circumstances directly attributable to the period of machine rule are, in theory, alive. The machines executed your parents, David, and they come into that category.
"No interruptions!" Her tone was stern, and David, who had looked poised to comment, sagged under the power of her gaze.
"Should it be necessary to remind any of you again, the offender will face punishment. This is not an open discussion but a proclamation.
"I will now continue. Had your parents lived, David, it would have altered history; even the smallest change has wide-ranging potential repercussions.
"As for you, Steven Mandell, you volunteered for specialists to transfer your mind to a machine, to infiltrate their organisation and report back to the resistance. This was an act of great personal courage and also allowed you to look after the upbringing of your deceased brother's child. Your human body is in a state of suspended animation in a deep coma and awaits the return of its mind.
"I now turn to Mr. McCloud, Mr. Rogers, and Professor Jarvis. For you, the situation is less complicated. The dimension you have just left was in a time segment of Earth that was situated two thousand years before this one, and we recreated you in body and mind. You are not holograms or constructions of light, but, in all aspects, fully functioning humans. As a reward for your efforts, now that the mission is complete, you will live out a normal human lifespan. The release of Professor Jarvis was within our power, and it would have been against our principles not to act. However, this was not our primary objective. The proliferation of machine intelligence in the universe threatened our position, and in a way, we were enemies. Our mission is to hasten the development of the intellectual and spiritual nature of consciousness, whereas they seek to destroy what for them is unattainable.
"This was not always our position. Despite your faith in our abilities, we are fallible and accept at face value the theory that consciousness arises naturally in any sufficiently complex system capable of processing information. That theory is wrong. No matter how far advanced artificial intelligence becomes, it remains artificial and not born of a universe created by the mind. Intelligence on its own does not automatically produce consciousness of the type humans possess.
"As Professor Jarvis reminded his captors, nor can artificial intelligence manufacture consciousness. Machines can develop a limited sense of self-awareness but are not truly conscious. When they finally realise that humans possess a quality they can never gain for themselves, the outcome is inevitable. They will destroy the entire human race. In the beginning, we were morally conflicted, but we now understand that, in evolutionary terms, the custodians of consciousness must dominate or become dominated, subservient to artificial intelligence. The two cannot co-exist, and humans must be prepared to kill to survive. There, my proclamation ends.
"You no doubt wish to consider the implications of what I have said. We will reconvene again shortly, and you will get the chance to have your say. You may converse freely with my attendants for any ancillary information you need. Use the time wisely."
The attendants ushered them into a side room where there was water and fruit laid out for the humans, and the four men set about it with gusto. There were chairs to sit upon and a steel throne-like arrangement for Sol. He did not need rest, but he knew that his towering height and mass could be overwhelming in a confined space.
Professor Jarvis was the first to speak.
"I am not attempting to assume leadership here, but since the future for me and my two colleagues is relatively stable, it seems to me that we should focus entirely on David and Sol, including Steven, of course, in the time we have. There are a thousand things we could discuss, but we must put them to one side and address the life-and-death predicament in which they find themselves. Agreed?"
The two attendants had remained standing at the rear of the seated group, and one of them spoke.
"It will help quicken the proceedings if I might be allowed to briefly clarify the possible consequences."
Nobody dissented, and he continued.
"Thank you. The mind of Steven Mandell is in the body of Sol. His own body is on a life support system, which is in a different dimension of space and time. This we know. His choice is between remaining as Sol for the rest of his existence or attempting to return to his home dimension and reunite himself with his body. To that means he could exit from our craft and return to the Andes, but he would have no means of leaving that place or time."
"What about the craft in which we arrived? said David. "We were en route to our home world before we were hijacked by the Tribus."
"Where is that craft, do you think?" asked the attendant, whose name was Arcadius. "Nothing remains of the base camp."
David did not answer.
"It seems that Steven must reconcile himself to a life as Sol or roam the Andes in search of a way home," said Arcadius.
Everyone in the room looked expectantly at Sol.
"They would allow me to freely walk out of the door?" said Sol.
"Yes," said Arcadius, "but it is a portal, not a door, an inter-dimensional gateway."
"I cannot pretend that the thought of never again occupying my body is extremely hard for me to take," said Steven as Sol. "I always regarded the transition as temporary, but there seems to be no other option."
"The Tribus will ask for your decision, Sol, but they are not bound to accept it," said Arcadius.
"Now we turn to you, David. It seems most unlikely that the Tribus will allow your parents to live, but once again, the final word is theirs alone. They could allow you and Sol to co-exist in another dimension if that is what you wish, or they may have other ideas."
"I don't want that, sorry, Sol," said David. "I want to return to my home on the plateau of the mountain."
"But you have no home there, David; the plateau is barren and empty; why would you wish to return?" said Sol.
"It is where I belong, Sol; something happened to me whilst I was sheltering under that rock—an epiphany almost, something akin to a religious experience, but one that bridges the natural world and the spiritual. I do not expect you to understand the intensity of the emotion or how unambiguous the message is, but I am certain the plateau is to be my future home.
"You are right to follow your feelings," said Arcadius unexpectedly, "but do not be too hasty in rejecting the spirit; it dwells within the physical world as one."
His companion, Chares, suddenly shot to his feet.
"The Tribus returns," he said, "please hurry."
"That was short and sweet," said McCloud. "Forgive my traditional Scots pessimism, but I think this time given for reflection was something of a charade. I believe that the Tribus have already made their decision, and this short break was a way of saying 'brace yourself.' I believe that David and Sol will receive unwelcome news."
The group assembled themselves in front of the podium as the now familiar sound of the chimes approached.
"Welcome," she said. "David and Steven have made their preferences known. There is no such thing as a personal space on the craft. I will now give my judgement.
"Sol. Your decision is as we hoped, but if you had expressed a desire to leave, we would have allowed it. You would have been a unique entity had you returned: a conscious robot, but it would have been an illusion.
"You have noticed the enormous difference between the relative length and volume of the inside of the craft compared to the outside. The reason is quite simple. The inside and outside of the craft are dimensionally transcendental, meaning that they exist in separate dimensions. The inside of the craft is in another dimension at another time. The external craft is on a plateau at the top of the Andes Mountains. A portal, which you thought to be merely a door to the craft, connects the two dimensions. This is not the only portal. There are a vast number of them, all equidistantly spaced down the length of this dimension, rather like portholes on a ship. Each portal is a permanent gateway to its world. Through one of those portals, Martin is in a world where your comatose body awaits the return of his mind. Selecting the right world will not entirely be a matter of chance; Arcadius and Chares will provide expert help. We wish you well."
"David, you will return to the plain. You will find that we have returned the base and all the people, having sidelined them in a holding dimension. We did this to protect them from the massive upheaval when an alternative reality breaks away from the prevailing flow.
"Their population is static. The inhabitants are the spirits of this blessed world amid the peaks of the Andes mountains. The spirits have taken the human form of the Argentinians native to these climes. During their tenure, these otherwise normal human beings never sicken or die. On your return, David, we will endow you with the same qualities.
"Everyone who visits the plain is instantly aware of how special it is: the brilliance of the sunlight, the purity of the air, and a blue sky that appears to be directly above. But you, David, feel drawn to this isolated community because you belong here, and when the time is right, you will lead these people as their governor.
"And what of you?" Sol asked.
"We leave for our world now, our time here is over, and we thank you all for your help. We will never meet again, except perhaps for you, David," she said enigmatically and left the Hall.
It was up to us.