Zhuangzi's Butterfly

David

I found myself standing on the plateau outside the craft with no idea of how I came to be there. Snowflakes were starting to fall, and dense, grey clouds looked ready to burst overhead. Sure enough, the downfall began to intensify, and I raised the hood of my Parka. A sudden flash of sheet lightning lit up the sky, followed by an explosion that shook the plateau. The ground heaved as if it were about to split the mountain in half, and knocked me flat on my back. I tried to stand up, but something hard crashed against my head and knocked me unconscious.

I could not have been out long because the heavy snowfall had not covered my prone body, but the ground was now perfectly still. Clambering to my feet, I turned to face the craft, intending to go back in, but the cylinder had disappeared.

Thinking that I had lost my sense of direction, I lumbered forward through the snow, casting left and right, desperately trying to find it, but nothing was there. Without a landmark to guide me, it was down to instinct, and I turned around and staggered on in the direction of where the base had once stood. There was no reason for this other than I had nowhere else to go, but it would allow me to orient myself to my position on the plateau.

It was hard to keep track of the time or distance I covered, but I walked and walked, never daring to stop and rest. Half-conscious and muttering at myself to stay awake, it was some time before I eventually realised that the storm had passed and it was safe to stop. Swaying back and forth on the snow-packed surface, drunk with fatigue, I raised my gloved hand and clumsily tried to remove my opaque goggles but found it impossible to get a grip, and only after much pushing and prodding did I manage to force them off my face.

The weather was still grey and overcast, and the clouds overhead reflected light from what could only be the base. The probability that it was an illusion did not prevent me from staggering down towards the light, slipping, and sliding down the incline until I collided with a solid object and came to a forced halt. Pulling myself to my feet, I identified the low perimeter fence surrounding the base and, with my back against one of the uprights, slid back slowly to the ground and wept, but not for long.

I scrambled over the fence with newfound energy and walked in the direction of the town centre. My appearance there attracted no special attention, and people acknowledged me with the customary 'Buenos Dias.' It was as if the disappearance of the base had been a dream. When I returned to my quarters, they were exactly as I left them, and except for the few things I took with me when I hurriedly departed, everything was in its normal place. I sat on the edge of my bunk. When did I leave here – this morning? It was around midday now, but that could not be right. My head was spinning, and I swung up my legs to lie on the unmade bed, but things got worse. I was wearing the shorts and vest that I normally slept in, and my feet were bare. It was too much to take, and I screwed my eyes shut, trying to make it all go away. Tears of self-pity ran down my cheeks, and I could not suppress a gut-wrenching sob.

"You called for me, Seven?"

It was Sol, back in the shape of the silver sphere he took when we worked for King.

"Sol."

It was all I could say. This was now more of a nightmare than a dream, and I was terrified. Sol began to move erratically in the air, unable to keep his equilibrium, and he was forming words that I could not understand. He was fighting not to fall, and I sensed the effort he was putting into remaining in control, but he did it and became still. I sensed the battle that was going on inside the motionless sphere, and now it began to change form, and the massive bulk of the robotic Sol rose from the floor, complete with his home-made ears, nose, and mouth. If he could have smiled, that is what he would have done, but he said one word, and that was enough.

"David."

I was weeping again.

I will fast-track my reunion with Sol. It is enough to say that for a few minutes, it was me talking directly to my uncle, Steven Mandell, and it all got a little emotional. Sol could not keep it up for long, but I am glad it happened. We finally got around to whether we had gone through a portal into another dimension when we entered the cylinder on the plateau.

We wanted to avoid any confirmation bias, and I asked Sol to record every detail of what happened before we discussed it. Sol did the same, and when we compared them, they were identical. Sol ran the scenario through his programmes in search of an alternative explanation. It said the evidence pointed to a shared experience, but it did not venture an opinion on how it happened. Under pressure to give a reason, it proposed something like Einstein's 'Spooky action at a distance,' where two particles become inextricably linked, despite how distant they are from each other, and have the same experience. It was quick to add that it was little more than wild speculation, and all the evidence indicated that it happened as we remembered. I agreed with that conclusion, but I think the quantum entanglement explanation worked on the level of a metaphor. I had always thought there was some form of mental link between us.

"I agree that it probably happened," said Sol. "The storm and the quasi-earthquake were the alternative future breaking off and taking us with it."

"But why are we still here?" I said. " I know I was supposed to return to the base, but all the evidence points to the fact that I never left."

"You are here and there, and both of you are equally real; your identity is fluid and flits between realities, " said Sol.

"So, our other selves are somewhere adrift in an alternative future?" I asked.

"No, the alternative future has more substance. It is the world we are experiencing now that has branched off from the main flow," said Sol, "and its chances of survival are almost zero."

"But the base…"

"It is in the alternative dimension, and you are to be the new governor," said Sol, "but the base here is temporary. The mountain spirits likely followed the alternative future, and the people here, where we are now, will age and die like any other human. The hospital building will become an actual hospital for once, and Dr. Mateo is going to be a remarkably busy man. But he doesn't know that, and for the rest of the population, this is just another day.

"That is enough for now, David. Get yourself dressed, and we will go to the dining room. You need to eat."

Most people had already eaten, and the room was nearly empty. I was ravenous and piled my plate high. Sol had his usual empty cup of coffee, and we sat in silence as I wolfed my food down.

"Jarvis, McCloud, and Rogers?"

I framed it as a question.

"Hard to say. They were simulations created by the Tribus, but they granted them full human status as a reward in the alternative future," said Sol, "but whether the simulations could have independently survived in this world is another question. The Tribus no longer has a presence here, and they were energising the simulations. If that were the case, then the simulations would no longer exist unless they could function independently, but the Tribus would have thought of that."

The droid came to my side and replenished my empty coffee cup. Interestingly, it made no move to fill Sol's empty cup. These droids were smarter than they looked. We were the only ones in the dining hall now, and I sipped my coffee and looked out of a window, trying to order my thoughts. The sunshine was the usual brilliant white, and outside, people were going about their normal business of the day as if nothing had happened. Time ceased to pass for them when they were in the holding dimension, and they aligned back to the exact moment of their departure when the base returned.

My experience in the cylinder was still alive in my memory, but there was a haziness to it now, as if viewed from behind a gossamer curtain. This world was vividly real, and I wondered how long we had to live and whether we would cope when the people began to age and get sick, but I would do all I could to help them.

"We need to plan for the future, Sol," I said. There is so much to discuss, and there are only two of us."

"Not any longer," said Sol, indicating the front door, and I turned to see the figures of Jarvis, McCloud, and Rogers. They looked all in and staggered towards us in a state of near collapse.

"You were right, Sol, " I said. "The Tribus think of everything."

We helped them into seats and signalled the service droid to bring food and drink.

In less than a minute, three droids were at the table, attending to each man individually. The men were only semi-conscious, and the droids spoon-fed them hot Lawa soup until they revived. I did not attempt to engage them in conversation and watched as the droids followed the soup with a sustaining dish of potatoes and vegetables, thick slices of the local bread, and lots of water, for the men were badly dehydrated.

At last, they were ready to talk, but still very weak. Jarvis spoke first.

"We were on the craft, discussing where to live out the rest of our lives, when all the lights went out, and a high-pitched whine began, all the time getting louder and more intense until it became unbearable. We fell to the floor with our hands clasped over our ears until, finally, we blacked out. The next thing we knew, we were outside in a heavy snowstorm, and the cylinder was radiating a neon blue light that intensified as the machine began to disappear. The snow-covered ground shook with thunderous explosions, and we sank deeper into the drift. McCloud raised himself and dragged Rogers and me to our feet. We wandered around, trying to find our way off the plateau, knowing that if we stopped and slept, we would die. How we kept on moving for such a long time was hard to explain, but when the snow eventually stopped, all of us were in a bad way. We could see the lights of the base in the distance, but it was difficult to stay on course until we found your footprints in the snow, David, and followed them back."

Jarvis began to cough uncontrollably.

"It looks as if they were out there a lot longer than you, David, "said Sol. "There may have been a time slip, but what we need to do now is get them to a place where they can get out of their wet clothes and into bed."

"It's a long way back to our quarters," I said," but we are in the hospital building, and…

I broke off mid-sentence as a droid came through the connecting door to the hospital corridor, followed by a bemused Dr. Mateo. The fact that the droid had worked out for himself what to do was extraordinary, and the doctor immediately summoned a couple of nurses to help him get the three men into hospital beds.

So, there were nurses here, after all, and the hospital does have beds. The base must have undergone some modifications while in the holding dimension.

The Tribus thinks of everything…