The Emperor
Chapter 1
His Imperial Highness Prince Chayote, Prince of Time and Dreamer of Eternity, heard his faithful servant declare that it was at last time for him to get out of bed, but the prince had a different view of the matter. As far as his highness was concerned it was an ungodly hour, and he muttered something unintelligible which was not unusual when he had to get out of bed on a shiveringly cold morning. The prince had spent the night charting a course through the troubled world he had found in his dreaming before his royal weariness finally overcame him, and tempted him to seek refuge under a warm blanket and the beckoning of somnolent oblivion.
His manservant, Jacob Barrett, was well aware of what it was that kept the prince awake at night, and was prepared to make concessions to the importance of his work, but his petulance late in the morning was just childish.
It was now several weeks since the prince had begun to tune into this newly troubled world. He had been spending the evenings tuning his feelings not unlike a radio, searching for signals which carried evidence of their troubles.
At first he was hearing music as he glanced several light seconds off the east horizon into the inky blackness. He could see the face of a young singer, a girl blessed with a melodic prodigy, radiant in the space he could see around him. Her melodies were so hauntingly beautiful that the local magnetic field lines bent according to her rhythm and tonality. The field lines of the whole stellar system seemed to dance in time around her, and were richly coloured with her music and lyrical sentiments. During those first few evenings of his tuning the prince saw some funky syncopation indeed, a welcome if not particularly unusual experience for him.
It was this music that gave him hope that the world could be brought back from the brink of disaster. So much division had been seen separating the melodic interludes that hope had nearly been extinguished. But if a single representative could so closely tune the sentiments of an entire stellar system then the world could be reunited around her.
After a couple of weeks of tuning his feelings in this way the prince could capture the names of individual artists and their historical miliue which meant that he could now assemble a picture of the world into which these artists had risen from their dreaming. They had woken into a troubled world. It was a world where people had no idea of the value of their dreaming; they trivialised it whenever it came up in conversation, and gave no credence to it what so ever.
Possessing the names of artists enabled an entanglement with their individuality the consequence of which was an exchange of feelings, so that in time the prince was able to feel that he could subtly influence them. The distance between their worlds was a matter of some indifference because the prince was a dreamer, and there was no definition of either time or space when he was asleep, only the intentions he brought to every discovery in his dreaming.
Among the cascade of identities he could choose from were a couple of outstanding individuals, namely one Bryan Ferry who did not want to stop dancing evidently, and one Annie Lennox who could hardly wait until tomorrow.
Unlike the world which these two came from the prince's world was cold because it was a long way from the star at the centre of its planetary system. When he cast his vision a couple of light seconds out into free space, the star appeared to be small and fairly dim. As cold as his world may have been this was nevertheless an advantage because the brightness of the star could not interfere with the delicate visual accompaniment he saw when listening to their music in this way.
In his stellar visions the most compelling field line resonating in sympathy with the music was the one perpendicular to the orbital plane, because the other axes of vibration were relatively minor ones only reflecting treble notes at octaves higher than the bass notes. The two minor axes were the planet's radial line and its orbital one, and in terms of Bryan's Don't Stop the Dance for example, the visual resonance began with some higher notes and a funky rhythm, before the deeper warbling bass notes kicked in to animate the perpendicular one.
Playing the song a few times affected the prince's perception. The entire ensemble was a mix of visual and aural reflections of each other. Yet in spite of being nominally intangible the language he used to record his experience in his diaries was not particularly complicated because it reflected the simple geometry of the star. Evidently, a star such as Chayote's delighted in sharing such musical reflections with him.
Chayote's ancestors didn't always reside on the frosty world he now calls home. Long ago his ancestors migrated to this place from a world much closer to the star where others of his kind continue to reside, and enjoy the warmer climate there. They were a technologically sophisticated society with an ability to colonise several of the planets within their stellar system, but the crucial evolutionary breakthrough in their culture was not one of technology, but of spirit.
Long ago his people came to the conclusion that their world bore a striking resemblance to them, that the pattern of resemblance was infinitely recursive, and that their bodies were a pointy tip of consciousness implemented on behalf of the entire stellar system. They began to believe that their bodies bore a purposeful consciousness which was at one with, and identical to, the place they had always called their home. Together, mind and body were a super nature which exceeded their prior dependence on technology to solve their many daily problems.
Very soon after his people had arrived at this conclusion they began to reassess their relationships with everything, not least of which was their somewhat ill informed beliefs about their dreaming. As an integral feature of stellar consciousness they could no longer trivialise something about which they knew very little. They began to recover their long forgotten telepathic abilities, and then began to share this ability with the cosmos they found hiding in the shadows, at the very fringes of their perception.
Jacob quietly reminded the prince of his afternoon schedule as he dressed and thought about something warm to eat. His meeting with a cabinet secretary got pushed to the periphery of his thinking as he remembered that a new shipment of culinary delights had arrived from one of the inner worlds no longer ago than the day before. He grimaced as he thought of how little food was produced locally, and how dependant he and his fellow citizens were on the generosity of the inner worlds. All the more reason to persuade the honourable secretary to make the maintenance of peace with them her ever guiding priority.
His appointment with the Minister for Inter Planetary Affairs went quite smoothly late in the afternoon with the formalities of their meeting resolved within the hour. There was nothing particularly extraordinary spoken by either of them until such things were concluded, and there arose an opportunity to speak more informally. They sat comfortably facing each other, as the prince ordered refreshments.
When a pot of tea and cups arrived she felt emboldened. "I've heard you've found a new world in your dreaming, your highness," the minister began, hoping not to appear too combative.
"Yes indeed, Madam Secretary," the prince replied, cursing to himself at the hotbed of gossip this place had become.
"It's still very early in my investigation, but the world seems to be somewhat receptive to my probing. I doubt I'll have anything formal to report for the foreseeable future, however."
"How far have they progressed, if I may ask?"
"Oh. Yes, Ma'am, you may ask. I suspect that they are as far along as we were about four hundred years ago," the prince replied.
"Oh, that must be very interesting for your highness. Not an easy stage of development, I suggest."
The prince smiled without commenting.
"And what do they call their world?"
"They call the planet Earth, and the star Sol," he replied somewhat frostily hoping to put an end to this conversation.
The minister noted the change in his demeanour. She finished drinking her tea quietly, and began her departure. "Well, thank you for your time this afternoon, sir."
"You're welcome, Ma'am," he answered.
She stood up, bowed graciously and exited the room.
Chapter 2
Ryan Watson was not a particularly remarkable person in 2010. He was 24 years old, he graduated from a Sydney high school with very average grades, had no real ambitions in life and his employment record was spotty at best, marked only by fairly menial tasks with no hope of advancement.
While a potential employer may only have seen low grade cannon foder in Ryan, Chayote saw in him the potential of a raw uncut diamond. He was young and flexible, he had recently been to a place of strong dreaming on his world, and perhaps most importantly, he was a cannabis smoker which meant that his dreaming was open on levels which Chayote could use to his advantage.
The place of strong dreaming that the prince could associate him with was Uluru, that massive sandstone monolith situated in the deserts of central Australia, which Ryan had visited a few months earlier at great expense to his finances and resolve. It was not an easy trek for Ryan, he had very meagre resources at his disposal, but it was a tribute to the strength of his feelings for the place that he even made it there at all.
Ryan had a small amount of grass with him on the road to central Australia which he smoked very sparingly, so he was in a receptive state when he sensed the deep and subtly impressive mood of the place. He knew he would be. He had seen Uluru in his dreams often in the past, and again the night after he climbed to the top of it. In his dream he was sitting beside a small camp fire in the twilight, surrounded by a family of Aboriginals. It was a simple image, but one he knew he would never forget. What he saw out there was a truly awesome stretch of time.
It was in terms of this staggering pool of time that the prince and Ryan first met each other. The prince saw him as he cast his feelings out into space and tuned into his star's stellar vibrations, and Ryan tuned his own star's feelings in a similar way while he was at home asleep and dreaming. What they both saw was Uluru as it has always been; a sleepy infant dreaming of eternity.
It wasn't long after he returned to Sydney that Ryan began to notice how much he had been affected by this experience. He thought about it a lot, he was able to hallucinate even during sobriety, and he was conscious of a determination to make this experience one against which all others would now be compared. The little grass he was smoking was making his mind more and more sensitive, he felt like he had to shield his thoughts from others, and his behaviour was becoming visibly affected.
"What's wrong with you?" his girlfriend Anne complained when at last it became clear to her that something was going on.
They were on a date walking by the harbour in North Sydney, and she couldn't help noticing that he wasn't really paying attention to her.
"I don't know," he started, feeling quite agitated. After some hedging he went on, "It's just that I feel like I've found something that makes sense to me, for the first time in my life really, and I don't want to let go of it."
"Yeah, I can see that, but it's affecting you," she replied. "It's like I don't even know you any more."
Ryan didn't see much of Anne after that night in North Sydney, and she eventually let him know that she was seeing another guy which didn't seem to bother him. He was withdrawing from his previous social life anyway, he was thinking for himself which Chayote was pleased to see, and he searched libraries and the internet for information about the environment, the economy, and the state of planet Earth in 2010, which was getting pretty serious.
Little did he know, but Chayote was already mingling with his feelings, pulling strings and manipulating him, although it would be a while before he noticed it.
Some time had passed before things started to change again. Ryan was looking at all sorts of search terms on the internet, and he can't even remember the exact term he found that led him to this site, but he stumbled on a theory about the Earth which got Chayote quite excited. It was called the Host Model of Earth and it was exactly what the prince was looking for because it said that planet Earth and human bodies bear a striking resemblance to each other.
Chapter 3
Chayote woke up at home quite late on a miserably cold morning, but on this ocassion he was happy and wore a bright and cheerful smile. His persistence with this deeply troubled world had paid off in exactly the way he had hoped. He knew that it was possible, so he was delighted with Ryan's discovery of this theory.
Jacob, however, was not so happy when he saw the prince smiling in this way because he knew that he would have to report it to his contact within the Centre for Scientific Studies who secretly kept an eye on all prominent dreamers. It felt like a betrayal to him and he despised himself for it in spite of how vulnerable he was to the threats for which they were known.
Were their character equal to the strength of their convictions, he thought, they would live in peace with dreamers. But such is not the case. They are weak, defensive, and envy a dreamer's transcendental vision of the world.
Jacob was by no means a historian but anyone who had been to school knew that the science industrial complex nearly destroyed life on his ancestors' world about four hundred years ago. It was called 'The Great Threat', a title which had been handed down from generation to generation so as to ensure that it never be allowed to happen again. The institution of science has since been shamed into performing a more modest role in society, but even now they still have a very arrogant attitude.
In spite of not being privy to what Jacob was thinking in this moment of inner conflict, Chayote could afford to be a little more objective about this because he knew as a dreamer that scientists and dreamers were symmetrical opposites of each other. He knew that together they portrayed a unity inherent in the very existence of matter having dimensions ranging from the infinitely diminutive to the infinitely voluminous. Scientists may have a fundamentally defensive role to play in existence, but there was no way for one role to discredit the performance of the other.
It was only a matter of several days later that an assistant director at the Centre for Scientific Studies paid him a visit. He was unknown to Chayote and introduced himself as Robert MacGregor.
"I bring greetings from the Director," he said, "and thanks for allowing me to see you at such short notice." The two shared friendly remarks about the welfare of the Centre, and agreed that science was a worthy endeavour.
"How can I help you, Mr MacGregor?" the prince enquired after the pleasantries had been taken care of.
"Well sir, if I may speak frankly with you, there are concerns among members of our community, that your highness may be exposing our beloved home worlds to a degree of risk during your attempts to communicate with aliens", the assistant director began.
"Oh!" The prince wasn't expecting this, but quickly recognised its logical contents. "I hope you don't mind if I point out an implication of what you say," he went on.
"Oh, and what would that be, sir?"
"Well, without wishing to appear boastful, the implication is that you and your community believe in the power of my abilities," he said.
"Respectfully, sir," the assistant began, as he tried to stifle a friendly smile. "There are some among us who prefer to maintain a doubtful circumspection, at least until the case has been proven one way or another. But I think I speak for the majority in saying that the physics tends to support what is said about your work," he assured the prince.
"And you say, 'until the case has been proven one way or another'. How likely is this to happen?" the prince replied.
"Well, sir," again with the smile, but this time unchecked. "You may be surprised to learn that we have just begun the testing phase of a technology we could use to test the validity of your theory about the sensitivity of the system. In fact, sir, it is the reason why I have paid you a visit this afternoon. We would be delighted if your highness were to participate in our research."
Chayote looked squarely at his visitor. "Okay, but why me?"
The assistant director leaned forward and spoke in a low but steady voice, "Why you, your highness? Because we need someone who is already in contact. Someone whose dreaming has already breached the veil."
The prince studied him closely listening for a tremor in his voice, his smile fading into something more solemn.
"And your method?" he asked.
MacGregor reached into his pocket and produced a small vial, crystalline and faintly iridescent. "A compound, your highness. Synthesised from the neural analogues of dream-state neurotransmitters. It mimics the pathways of entanglement. We believe we can amplify the signal."
Chayote took the vial and held it to the light.
"You want to amplify the sensitivity of the system? But what if the system amplifies back?"
"Trust me, your highness. We have contingencies in place."
Chapter 4
Jacob was clearly not happy with the arrival of technicians, measuring equipment, containment protocols and other unspeakable paraphernalia. It was hard enough managing this household, with servants and properties to take care of, and budgets to meet, without surrendering large sections of it to strangers.
He was fundamentally suspicious of the scientific community on his most generous day, and couldn't understand why his master would willingly cave into their demands. The prince had explained it to him, but it all still felt like rocky ground to him.
"There are two ends to the infinities of time and space," the prince began. "There is the infinitely voluminous that we all know as the space beyond the sky."
Jacob had a worldly wisdom about him, and had no objection to that proposition, but his master's next statement only got lost in confusion.
"Then there is the reverse proposition, that the infinitely diminutive reside within the things we touch and feel every day."
Jacob stood in silence not willing to interrupt this single authority within the household.
"A corollary of this is that there exists an infinitely diminutive point at the centre of the brain, surrounded by a single neural cell that represents the constitution of the body. Think of this cell as the Supreme Governor of the Inner Worlds, only within the vast population of cells within the body."
Jacob would rather not, of course, but let his master continue.
"Well," he went on, "the equipment and technicians you see around you have the ability to enhance the sensitivity of what is a body rich in cosmic resonance, so that its inner Emperor may entangle with integral bodies wherever they may be. An incidental benefit of this is that it makes the behaviour of the cell easier to measure."
"It's just information," he concluded. "But it's a very powerful knowledge to obtain."
It was at this point that Jacob tuned out and started thinking about getting the evening meal prepared. There would likely be a host of new mouths to feed, and dietary requirements to consider. It looked like it was going to be a long night.
When Chayote woke the next morning he found his evening studio buried under a tangle of cables and equipment; it looked like the technicians had been working through the night. At the centre of the studio was a high backed chair, a throne of sorts he amusingly thought, with straps to ensure its occupant remained perfectly immobile. Above the chair there was a headset that looked a bit like a hat.
From what he gathered the headset had been designed expressly for this experiment, it was capable of rendering images of the brain on a cellular level, and had sensors which could detect quantum activity. Colourful displays were already rendering the results of preliminary testing as the flurry of technicians prepared the room for the day's important business.
When the assistant director arrived on the scene one of the technicians nodded an acknowledgement that everything was ready for the experiment to proceed.
MacGregor approached Chayote and spoke in tones revealing his satisfaction with the progress being made. "If your highness would be so kind as to be seated and to begin surveying the skies, we may receive the first indications of quantum activity."
He sat a little awkwardly, the headset was secured on Chayote's head, chin straps were fastened, and as it began to whir coloured lights flashed in patterns indicating its mode of activity. A syringe containing the compound appeared and was injected into Chayote's carotid artery.
Although he felt a little self conscious to begin with, it wasn't long before familiar patterns of resonance and tonality were pulsing in his vision of the sky.
A vision of the Earth and of Ryan emerged, but it was an unfamiliar one. The trace was strong and somewhat distressing, he saw Ryan convulsing in pain and was paralysed by indecision as to whether or not to terminate the experiment.
He began to feel dizzy and nausea started to stir within his stomach. His indecision quickly became an imperative. He must stop this experiment now.
He began by expressing his experience in a shrill voice but this was met with MacGregor's attempt to placate the prince while visually urging the technician to continue.
A moment later it was panic that prompted Chayote to take more decisive action, and he managed to free his hands from their restraints. The headset was next and was removed without assistance from the technician.
He looked furiously at MacGregor who looked to the technician for confirmation of the experiment's success. The technician smiled slightly and very briefly nodded an admission of success. Whatever it was that they wanted, they evidently got it.
Jacob, who had been watching the scene unfold from the periphery, shook his head in disbelief, not daring to voice the question banging in his head. "Why do you trust these people?"
Chapter 5
"How the mighty have fallen." Jacob may not have been familiar with Earth's Bible, but his thought echoed universal sentiments. "Four hundred years ago Science was a highly esteemed academic institution," Jacob thought sparingly. "But alas, no longer. It was now a miserable shadow of itself."
Chayote was no more impressed than Jacob, and had dispatched MacGregor and his crew the following day, after some grumblingly pensive reflection overnight. He ordered his evening studio cleared of any trace of the debacle that afternoon, so that at least he could enjoy an evening tuning his entangled feelings.
He felt particular concern for Ryan, but knew from years of experience that imagery gleaned in this way should not be interpreted too literally. "Anything is possible in a universe of undefined infinities," he thought carefully, and Ryan was perfectly able to take care of himself. Nevertheless, Chayote was keenly interested to discover whatever he might find.
Far away on another world Ryan Watson had been struggling to adapt to changes in his body. He was sleeping poorly, he had stopped smoking cannabis altogether because he was hallucinating frequently, and he was walking long distances at night in order to exhaust a restless energy he could no longer contain.
He was hearing voices, some of it was music of a restrained but sublime beauty, and he was having visions that nineteenth century painters would envy. He struggled to rationalise his experience, and dreaded the suspicion that schizophrenia was the only rational explanation for his condition.>
One voice stood out in particular. It stood out because it was always associated with a dim shadowy vision of an old man speaking from a lifetime of wisdom. Sometimes it was lethargic, but often it spoke of a great urgency. It seemed to know about the Host Model story which Ryan had been reading, and was now taking very seriously.
Some of what this old man was saying was so meaningful to him that he started writing it down. There were references to his visit to central Australia, the voice spoke of an internal diagram based on the anatomy of the body, and it spoke of time and dreaming in a way that made perfect sense to him.
He saw Anne in the street once, but didn't even stop to say hello. He had risen above the reality they shared, and was now fixed on the perception that dreaming was the only reality for him now. When the old man saw this little scene in the street with Anne, Ryan could see that he was chuckling. "Call me Chayote," the voice said, "and we will be friends."
Ryan replied respectfully, "Chayote; that's a fruit, isn't it?"
"I don't know what it is in your language, Ryan. We can only hope for a translation as we speak to each other. And even that's far from perfect," Chayote replied with an equal measure of respect.
"It's your intention that's important," he added. "It's intent that gets translated."
"You've been watching me for a while, haven't you?"
"Yes, I have. I see a great hope in you, Ryan," Chayote answered. "There is a great depth in your feelings, which could help avert the crisis your world is facing."
"Will you always be with me?" Ryan wondered.
"I don't know, to be honest, Ryan. Your independence would be more useful to your quest, in any case. You'll know where to find me if ever you're in need."
Ryan made a careful note of this exchange in his diary when he got home late that afternoon. When he had finished with his musings he leaned back in his chair and marvelled at how things were changing. He thought of how crazy it was to be conversing with someone who was not really there. He thought about his mental health, but arrived at the conclusion that his relationship with Chayote felt quite formal and proper. His next thought was of Sydney.
"I've got to get out of here, go somewhere quieter. This place is making me feel sick."
This was a momentous suggestion, but a true and helpful observation of his predicament.
Chapter 6
Jennifer Sloane was an ambitious young journalist on her first job for a regional newspaper in Orange several hours west of Sydney. She had only been in the role for several months and was eager to impress her editor by doing voluntary work outside of normal work hours.
The rising tide of homelessness in her town was becoming a subject worthy of investigation, and she was often seen asking the homeless about their conditions on the streets overnight.
When Ryan first arrived in town he found himself in the same situation the homeless were in; vacancies were few and far between and rents were becoming unaffordable. It was still quite warm overnight so Ryan mingled with the others he found there.
He first noticed Jennifer because she looked out of place in the dark talking to people and taking notes of their conversations, and she first noticed Ryan for similar reasons, he didn't look like he'd spent much time sleeping rough.
It wasn't long before their paths crossed, and they became entangled in conversation.
"You don't look like you've been here long," she observed when they met.
"No, I've only just arrived, really," he replied.
"So, what's your story then? How did you find yourself in this situation?" she asked.
He briefly thought about telling her he was conversing with someone telepathically, which would have been true and a believable explanation for his situation, but he thought better of his first instinct.
"I'm just seeking refuge from the turmoil in Sydney," he answered truthfully.
And so their relationship began. It was only after several weeks of meeting in this way that they became more open and frank with each other. Ryan told her that he was conducting an investigation of sorts himself, that he was sampling the airwaves so to speak, and recording his experiences in a diary, which seemed to impress her.
"I'd like to read it if it's not too personal," she claimed quite honestly.
"I'd be delighted to have you read it. It's not too personal. I try to be as objective as possible," he offered.
He happened to have a couple of note books in his shoulder bag which he pulled out and handed over to her.
She looked genuinely interested, and promised to have them read by the next time they ran into each other.
They met again a few days later, and she was good for her word having read the diaries, saying that they were an enjoyable read as she handed them back to him.
"I found your explanation of quantum mechanics a surprisingly easy read," she claimed. "I don't know anything about such things, but your explanation made sense and seemed quite plausible."
Ryan smiled, a little surprised. "I didn't think anyone would find that part readable."
Jennifer shrugged. "It wasn't the math which I ignored completely, it was the way you described entanglement. Like feelings that stretch across space. Like memory that doesn't need a brain."
Ryan nodded slowly. "That's how Chayote explained it to me. He said the universe is full of information, but you can only hear it when you listen."
Jennifer paused, then leaned forward. "Ryan, have you ever thought about publishing this?"
He hesitated. "I've thought about it. But I'm not sure the world is ready."
She smiled. "Maybe not. But maybe it needs to be."
Chapter 7
Chayote knew that Ryan only needed a nudge in order to get him moving forward on the path he once followed when he was Ryan's age. He had a benefactor at this time but his benefactor offered minimal instruction on his path to knowledge because he knew that a feeling was the only property that the seeker required. The body could find the path forward instinctively following an adoption of such feeling.
So, Chayote positioned himself in his evening studio one evening, gazed into the space surrounding the star he knew so well, and for several hours he entangled Ryan in this feeling.
Ryan, for his part, was oblivious to this feeling for quite a long time, concentrating more on the internal diagram which gave him a view of the infinitely minuscule he wanted to find within himself. The two were, in fact, the reverse of each other, so it was a fairly arbitrary choice for Ryan to make, in terms of acquiring a gritty sense of these dimensions.
In any case, Ryan quickly saw how the two views were related to each other in the way in which the internal and external diagrams consisted of geometries which were very similar. In a typical reflection of his creativity he began mapping global characters to locations within the anatomy of his body.
He found world leaders such as Her Majesty, the Queen, for example, located in a very central position in his brain, and others that corresponded to other locations. His body, he thought, was like a pack of cards with global characters performing roles consistent with their anatomical functions, and he found this quite amusing.
His experience with the minuscule was useful, in any case, because it meant stepping outside the world view he and his fellow citizens habitually correspond with. But it wasn't long before he translated this experience into an assessment of the space beyond the sky.
It is likely that everyone marvels at the thought of space just out of reach right in front of them, but it is another matter entirely for them to cast their mind just a few light seconds out there. People look at the sky every day if only to check on the weather, but it is a trifling thing to them because they just can't grasp a sense of it.
Ryan found it as difficult as it was for anyone until he began to tinker with the feeling of entanglement. He knew a little about the physics of entanglement quite early in his experience, he knew about the hippies who built the machine that first proved its existence, and it was that spark of knowledge that brought him to Chayote's thinking about him.
Ryan thought very methodically about his experiences, making copious notes in his diaries which reinforced his memory of these things, but forced him to adopt some unquestionably rational behaviours. He was quite a visual thinker too, drawing diagrams of the things that mattered to him which helped him to focus on the reality of what seemed to exist in defiance of such.
But it was the building of what he called 'the index' that proved to be most useful to him. The index consisted of the growing number of Earthly associates he could mentally entangle with, politicians, movie stars, and people he met who made an impression on him. This select group of people helped to prop him up when he dipped into craven doubts about his experiences. At times he felt like insanity had taken possession of his mind and it was the index that lifted him out of frequent despair. He only had to remember some words of encouragement from one character or another and he felt grounded again.
His encounters with Chayote during this time were few. He saw him at odd intervals as his sky gazing abilities improved. Chayote also supported him with words of encouragement, but Ryan was pretty much on his own at this time, anchored in a tangle of mystery and deceit, where struggle is the unavoidable misfortune of youth.
Chapter 8
MacGregor met with the director as soon as he returned to the Centre for Scientific Studies. The hidden project they had been working on had been in a planning stage for more than a year and the director was anxious to be briefed on its current state. He had received a quick account of the drama of the day but had yet to be informed of the most interesting part, the result of the test itself.
The director asked, "Well? Do you have the recording?"
"Yes, Director. We have the recordings!" MacGregor answered in a jubilant tone.
While Chayote was tuning his feelings in the studio the other day, MacGregor and the technicians had secretly made a recording of his cosmic resonance which they could use to analyse, enhance and replicate in another person. The headset had a reversible switch which they believed could be used to train loyal dreamers in the art of quantum entanglement.
Potential training candidates had already been vetted, and selected during the planning phase. So MacGregor felt confident that the operation would be ready for activation within the few weeks it would take to analyse the recordings, and convert them into a sequence that could be played back in the training headsets.
Candidates were selected on the basis of their inherent capacity for dreaming, but also for their physiological reception to the enhanced neurotransmitters injected into Chayote during the experiment. They were also screened for any security risks they may have had lurking in their background, and their loyalty to the scientific cause was rigorously tested. Each candidate had to be able to demonstrate a commitment to the over-arching righteousness of science.
MacGregor stood facing the warm late afternoon sunlight on his home world following his meeting with the director, thinking, "Soon we'll be ready for phase three of our little plan!"
Chapter 9
Chayote's family could trace their heritage back to a time long before the demise of science some four hundred years ago. It was in the vicinity of some twelve hundred years or so, which made Chayote's family among the oldest in the planetary system.
The accumulation of a staggering sum of wealth during this time was one measure of the age of his family, but another more interesting, and perhaps more strategic measure, was the documentation of family history which in the case of Chayote's family happened to be fairly comprehensive.
Every two or three generations a summary of the course of both family history, and the history of the world, was written so that world changing trends could be mapped, and either cultivated or discouraged. Such is the nature of highly wealthy families in history; their influence is every bit its equal.
The documents followed the rise and fall of scientific knowledge, and its partnership with technology, which was long ago regarded as a potential threat to society, and it thus became a consuming interest to Chayote and his family. While no specific predictions were being made, each generation was advised to be very wary of science in general, and of the Centre for Scientific Studies in particular.
When quantum mechanics were discovered some four hundred years ago, at the height of the assent of science, Chayote's ancestors were among the first to implement its practice. Quantum entanglement was a simple matter for the ultra wealthy to understand because they realised that they had been practicing it for a very long time indeed. It was only a difficult thing for science to grasp because of their all consuming and somewhat peevish definition of reality. The ultra wealthy had long ago risen above such things.
So, that scene in Chayote's studio that fateful morning was a charade performed for the benefit of the other party; both MacGregor and Chayote were attempting to deceive each other. It happened to benefit Chayote that the injection of neurotransmitters made him feel ill that day because that part of his performance was quite genuine and spontaneous, he was genuinely in pain and there was no attempt to hide it.
In any case, Chayote knew in advance that MacGregor was up to something, but he didn't know exactly what it was. And as for MacGregor, he could not imagine the resources available to the ultra wealthy and the depth of knowledge Chayote had access to.
But as Chayote settled down to some restful introspection over a cup of tea one evening, he began to sift through his thinking hoping to intuit what it was that MacGregor had wanted from him.
He thought deeply about the device and the neurotransmitters, and compared them to what he knew about entanglement. He pictured the sub atomic level of organisation in his brain where quantum activity was strongest, and how the stars resonate in harmony with these frequencies. Each atom at the centre of his brain may as well have been a microcosmic star itself.
He thought that all of this was just harmonic resonance, and as he considered this his consciousness began to fade and he nearly fell asleep. But suddenly he was awake with a realisation.
"Resonance can be induced!" he thought wildly. "What if MacGregor had recorded resonance? What if the recording could induce resonance in another person?"
"No," he thought. "Surely not!"
Chapter 10
Quantum entanglement allows that the state of one party is instantaneously known to the other entangled party regardless of the distance between them. So, when Ryan bought a small astronomical telescope, Chayote appeared to him at an earlier stage of his life when he first began to investigate his system's version of this phenomenon. He appeared to be immensely interested in this development because it meant that Ryan was ready to look more deeply at the sky.
It was a worthy scope too with a magnification of about fifty times which is far from ideal for star gazing, but perfect for looking at planets and sizing up their relative proportions.
One of the first objects of interest to Ryan was Jupiter and four of its moons which appeared as tiny points of light in his scope, but it was his view of Venus that really got him started on his sense of astronomical dimensions. Venus, at this time, was approaching the point where it could no longer be seen so it appeared as a slim sickle shape in his scope and it gave him an opportunity to compare its angular diameter with that of the Sun.
Ryan knew that Earth was about five hundred light seconds back from the Sun, and that the speed of light was just mindbogglingly fast, as anybody did, but putting this modest equation together in his mind and comparing its diameter with Venus, he was slowly and deeply taken by a recognition that the Sun is really huge. Five hundred seconds at the speed of light is a huge distance and yet the Sun was still vastly bigger than Venus.
It was a modest step forward but Ryan could now get a sense of the volume defined by a radius of several light seconds, with the Earth at its centre, which is a pretty big volume of space indeed, and in daylight hours the volume of space around the Sun became a consuming interest to him.
He pictured a radial line projected away from him on the other side of the Sun, and the volume of space this defined. He pictured the huge bubble of radiant energy expanding at the speed of light and gently breaking over the substance of his body when it was big enough to touch him. He drew a mental line from the horizon back into the picture plane to the Sun, all of which was not only pleasing to Chayote, but of vital strategic use to them both in a potential battle with the Centre for Scientific Studies.
Chayote saw Ryan measuring the true dimensions and volume defined by the orbits of the inner planets, but felt that there was something missing. He knew exactly what it was, and broached the question with Ryan at the first opportunity.
"Hey Ryan," he started. "Do you have any of that hallucinogenic substance in your possession?"
"Um, yeah, I do" Ryan confirmed. "I've got a couple of grams I kept when I quit several months ago. Why do you ask?"
"I've just been thinking that your grasp of stellar dimensions would really make an impression on you under the influence of that stuff," he answered.
"Oh yeah, I can see that. That sounds like a great idea," Ryan said.
So, the next sunny day Ryan positioned himself in the backyard of his house, seated on a chair, and started to feel intoxicated in anticipation of a truly awesome experience.
Chapter 11
When Chayote tuned into Ryan's feelings that day he could feel some deeper cosmic vibrations resonating within his own system, so he knew that something momentous was about to happen.
Ryan lived in a pretty noisy little town; there was regular street traffic in front of his house, and there was a little rail traffic on the rail line just a hundred yards away. The consequence of this was that he had a fairly reliable source of aural Doppler changes he could use to atune his intoxicated body with the harmonic nature of the sunlight he was enjoying.
Ryan knew that there was something like this going on each and every moment of intoxication, but he had never gazed into space while listening to the ambient noise in this way. So when he first saw a wave of sunlight coincide with the exhaust note of a passing car he felt a deep shaking of the ground at the apex of the Doppler shift, and was taken with a sharp pang of anxiety and horror. It felt like the deep tonal radiance of the Sun revealed itself to smokers during intoxication.
A moment later he looked up at the sky, and it suddenly occurred to him; the vast volume of space around him. It wasn't affecting his eyes. He was seeing it with his mind. Going by his sense of the Sun he estimated he was seeing perhaps a few hundred light seconds out there which is a volume of space few people get to appreciate. He knew the vision wouldn't last long, so he just tried looking around with his eyes and his mind.
This was exactly what Chayote wanted. He wanted Ryan to become so familiar with this hallucination that he could perform it during sobriety.
Ryan was right, the vision lasted only a matter of seconds, but it made an indelible impression on his mind which he would now never forget, and it was exhilarating.
Recent practice with stellar dimensions had shown him that this fleeting view of the sky required a dramatic departure from prior beliefs about the matter. No doubt these beliefs exist to defend the mind from this knowledge because it can't help being deeply affected by it. In Ryan's case Chayote gave his perception a little nudge because Ryan needed to be prepared for his role as a cosmic dreamer on his planet.
The knowledge of space exists just as surely as space itself does, but it takes a knowledge of it for one to gain this knowledge. The situation was called a catch twenty two where Ryan came from, and was resolved by Chayote's timely intervention.
When Ryan recovered his sobriety he spent a little time memorising the feeling so that he could recall it at random. He wasn't doing it for Chayote's benefit, who stood to gain substantially. What he had stumbled on was a powerful knowledge on his planet, and he wanted to remember it for his own benefit, whatever that may be.
It was a few weeks later that Ryan had a meaningful dream about his experience. He had spent this time a little obsessed about his achievement which he could now slip into quite easily, but this dream only made him feel it even deeper. He saw the Sun in this dream which may not be remarkable in itself, but in this case it was because it spoke to him.
"You really do look out here, Ryan," it said to him, before adding a cryptic remark. "Don't expect much," was the only other comment it had to offer, but when it spoke to him it looked like God.
Ryan woke up immediately and spent a little time memorising it, although he agreed that it was an image he could hardly forget.
Chapter 12
Several years passed on planet Earth following Ryan's discovery of his ability to accommodate these huge volumes of space. He kept practicing his skills, not for any particular purpose but just for the thrill of it, and for what it meant to him in terms of his relationship with this planet and the star. It felt like a great wealth to him which had nothing to do with money, money was a trifle by comparison. It was a wealth of time and power.
Even so, he managed to convert his long list of diary entries into a cohesive story detailing his exploits with Chayote, which was published by an independent publishing firm, with Jennifer's assistance, and which drew a modest but reliable income.
He saw Chayote from time to time, who provided him with occasional guidance and support, but his real concern was the ongoing damage to the global environment, and its threat to the survival of a broad spectrum of plants and animals.
The climate lobby was making steady progress before the pandemic of the early '20s made it invisible for the duration of the effort to mitigate its consequences. And by the time it had passed a growing global conservatism had more or less defeated the climate lobby, turning any progress they had made back many years.
Chayote never discussed the history of his home system with Ryan because he knew that the conflict likely to occur on his world would follow a pattern similar to the one seen on Chayote's world. The conflict recorded in Chayote's history books was one between polar opposites of each other, one so formally aligned with the geometry of nature that Ryan would eventually see it occurring on his world. So, Chayote kept his mouth shut until Ryan opened the subject for discussion.
The conflict recorded in Chayote's history, and beginning to emerge on Ryan's world, was between science and mysticism, or between the physical body and the dream body. On both worlds the abilities of the dream body were grossly underestimated, and ridiculed at every opportunity by expert and novice alike.
Ryan spent some time reading and thinking about energy which is a topic with a very broad generality. He thought a lot about the equivalence of work and energy which he knew from early in his career as a labourer. He knew instinctively that there's no work without effort, and he also knew that there's no effort without an intention to achieve some goal, and that this had been the case throughout the entire course of human history.
He remembered learning in school that throughout this time a worker's motivation was provided by visionary leaders such Lords or Kings or Pharaohs and the like. What the workers wanted, and what their leaders provided, was a belief about themselves, their past, and more importantly their future. What workers wanted from their leaders was quite simply something to believe in.
In ancient times, he thought, it was gods and service to them, in the middle ages it was tribal membership and nationhood, and in modern times it has been capitalism, science and technology. In the case of modern times, the plutocracy envisioned the capitalist project because it made sense to them at the time, which worked out nicely until the day finally dawned that it didn't, which he thought is where we find ourselves here in the early twenty first century.
Ryan spoke to Chayote when at last he understood what he wanted to say to him. "Hey, Chayote," he spoke.
"Yes, Ryan. What can I do for you?"
"I've been thinking about the economy, and it looks like it's the beginning of a very serious situation for us."
Chayote's self control failed long enough for a little smile to slip from his consciousness.
Ryan saw it immediately, and asked, "Is that amusing to you?"
Chayote paused for a moment of solemnity. "Yes, in a sense it is. Your species has waited long for this. At last, time is apon you! Yours is not the first world to arrive at this turning point, Ryan, I have seen it often before."
"Then what is to be done about it?" he asked.
Chayote answered, "I think you'll find that the necessary changes are already being undertaken."
Ryan again asked, "Such as?"
"Well, is the cost of living going up? Is housing becoming unaffordable? Are human numbers out of control?"
Ryan answered yes to all three questions.
"Then your world is already changing, and the necessary adaptations have begun. You told me that the Host Model story had been published on your world long ago, correct?"
"Yes indeed, long ago," he answered.
"Well, that little story is itself the catalyst for change. That little story changes everything. The first to be informed were the governments, right?"
"I think so."
"Well, the changes you're observing don't happen by themselves. In general terms, these things happen because powerful people choose for them to happen. The truth is that your world is entering a new age of darkness and mystery."
All of this gave Ryan much to think about.
After several days of soul searching he concluded that science, capitalism and consumerism weren't working out so well any more. Being a member of the middle class was a great relief from the drudgery of being a medieval peasant, but it was just a tool in the hands of the plutocracy which can be discarded when it is no longer useful. It was clear to Ryan that, as far as the ruling class was concerned, the middle class was devouring natural resources at a rate that the global ecology could no longer afford, and that pricing the middle class out of existence was a simple matter of pulling suitable financial strings.
Chapter 13
Long ago on Ryan's world, but only a matter of weeks following the incident in Chayote's studio, Robert MacGregor sat comfortably in his office sipping a cup of tea, and reflecting on the centuries since the Centre for Scientific Studies fell into disrepute.
He knew much of the history of quantum mechanics on his world, and knew how much entanglement appealed to the ruling class, but he always felt vaguely frustrated that he couldn't experience entanglement himself. He had read how the ruling class achieved entanglement through an application of their feelings, and he knew as well as anyone that science ridiculed feelings as intangible and nonsensical, but he wanted to believe that he could experience it too.
More than anything he envied the ability of some to open their mind to the staggering depth of space, and he believed that entanglement with the star, at the centre of his system, was the key to unravelling this mystery. In spite of whatever he told the director about this project, it was his obsession with space that drove his investigation of how to achieve this result.
Chayote's recorded resonance passed the analytic phase of the procedure successfully, and the first of the Centre's dreamers were ready to be trained. The analysts had been able to divide the signal into distinct frequencies, so there were a number of parameters that the technicians could experiment with, a program which could go on indefinitely.
The compound that Chayote was injected with differed from the one used on the Centre's dreamers, in so far as the prince's contained an emetic designed to make him feel ill, so that the experiment could be artificially terminated in case he figured out what they were up to. Such was the design of Robert MacGregor, a devious man with very few scruples.
The compound used on the dreamers also differed from the one used on Chayote, to the extent that the dreamer's contained a mild hallucinogen they had concocted synthetically, which they understood would induce the psychological sensation of entanglement. Science had not been dormant all these years, and molecular biology had made considerable progress, to the satisfaction of successive directors of the Centre.
Robert may have been anxious to see the project get to the point where he himself could enjoy the sensation of entanglement, but he was cowardly at heart and didn't want to risk exposure to a science that was still very much in its infancy. He felt like he was a fairly young man with plenty of time on his hands to watch and manage these developments at arm's length.
So, the day finally arrived when one of his dreamers donned the headset, his body covered in all sorts of diagnostic equipment, and then injected with the stimulant. Robert made sure he was present, and watched from the other side of the room with interest. The only trouble was that the scene before him bore no resemblance to what the old aristocracy began experimenting with long ago when entanglement was first discovered. Those dreamers of old simply sat comfortably in a quiet room and thought deeply about the physical mechanism.
Chapter 14
It was around this time that Chayote sat comfortably sipping tea in the evening, thinking about something that MacGregor will surely not have considered, and that is the sharply pointy thing a dreamer can't avoid confronting on the path to entanglement. Quantum mechanics makes a point of addressing some really tiny bits of matter, on a scale equal to those of atoms and subatomic particles. In the case of human bodies that pointy thing is located in the centre of the mid-brain, has atomic dimensions, and is a point that is very sensitive to reflective contemplation.
Dating from the age of his ancestors, before the proliferation of scientific representations of nature, Chayote remembers seeing a classical painting of a noble maiden wearing a long white tunic, and reaching out to touch a phosphorescent point of light before her. The image represented a high point in the long evolution of classical imagery dating back to ancient times, long before the discovery of entanglement. He felt that it was a metaphor for the entire course of human history, but in the context of entanglement the point of light depicted the centre of the mid-brain, and our gradual approach to an understanding of the significance of this organ.
Chayote suspected it unlikely that MacGregor had ever seen the painting or knew much about its history, or even that he cared about it. It was astounding to him that anyone wanting to experience entanglement would ignore this history, and focus solely on the physical body and the machines used to measure it. The technology MacGregor was building denied anything to do with this history, as if it were a childish waste of time, useful only until science arrived on the scene to set everyone on the path to knowledge and save the day from darkness and ignorance.
In spite of the ridicule he felt for MacGregor, and so many others like him, Chayote knew that the man's role in history was not only justified, but required by the fulfilment of history. All of history, it seems, is composed of necessary comparisons between things, and irony is a deeply felt and enduring example of such.
He knew that everyone and everything had a purpose no matter how shady or deceitful it may have seemed to some. Long ago his ancestors realised that, just as the mid-brain may be portrayed as a point of light to which we may lovingly aspire, so there is a corresponding point of darkness from which we all have come. Such is the symmetry of time and nature itself.
We all have secrets for which we hide a deeply grievous shame. MacGregor's are no different from anyone else's. The body itself is a study in opposites, one end reaching for the stars, while the other reminding us of where we began. We came from a place of darkness, and aspire to reach for light. But we carry both ends within us, as the polar geometry of our bodies will assure.
This is not to say that everyone gets a free ride. Chayote had seen the ghosts of the dead frequently during his entanglements. He remembers meeting one ghost in particular whose vision of the gaping maw would make even the most macho man squeal like a baby. He knew, with a sardonic grin, that meeting this ghost at death is unavoidable, and that wrong doers would pay for their sins until justice had been done.
Such is the balance of entanglement. Chayote had no doubts about MacGregor's future, he knew that it would take him a long time to make peace with himself.
Chapter 15
Ryan grew up in a family that frequented church on a Sunday morning, so he was exposed to bible stories from quite early in his life. He knew all the classics like the Genesis story, and the stories from the time of the patriarchs and later from the time of the New Testament. But it wasn't until he was in his late teens that he adopted a more critical view of them.
There was one verse in the opening chapter of Genesis that particularly attracted his attention because it seemed like a contradiction to him. It was the one where God commended Adam to be fruitful and multiply, and to have dominion over the Earth and all of its creatures, and was so troubling to him because it seemed to license humanity's ruthless exploitation of everything in sight.
He asked Chayote about this when he next felt their entanglement.
"How could Moses not have recognised the danger in this single verse?" he asked.
"This isn't unusual, Ryan. It is seen in most stories of human ascent, and difficult to refute in any case because of the long trajectory of human history up to that point," Chayote answered.
"This doesn't make it any more correct, of course," he went on. "In fact it highlights the importance of being able to stand up and contradict the basis for group behaviour, and casts a dim light on the institution of science which has been a major enabler of this exploitation."
"Yeah, science is responsible for a lot of grief here on Earth," Ryan replied. "Much of our understanding of quantum mechanics is based on atom smashing where particles are accelerated to high velocities and then placed on a path intersecting with others at high speeds in the opposite direction."
Chayote smiled quietly. "Science doesn't possess the soul needed to grant particles the kind of humanity they can share with them. It wasn't until the publication of your world's Host Model story that science was able to recognise how highly restrictive was their theory about the nature and history of the world."
"Things change, of course," he concluded.
"It seems to me that science has a really bad attitude," Ryan explained. "It claims to be a beacon of knowledge when in practice it begins with a deep well of ignorance. Apart from mathematics, it discredits any knowledge gained prior to the renaissance, and then it espouses and validates exploitation."
"It allows reality to be defined by the economy," he went on. "We all have needs like food, shelter and activity, but all of these have a price subject to manipulation by the wealthy. And science rejects any knowledge obtained in a way not consistent with this definition," he concluded.
"I agree," Chayote replied. "Science is a song of irony," he went on. "But, so is life itself. The best we can do is to adopt a position of modesty, and learn about each other at every opportunity."
Chapter 16
Ryan took this advice to heart as it reflected the common sense for which Chayote had always been renowned, and which appealed to his vision of his future. He had begun to realise the great power his relationship with Chayote had brought him, and that adopting a position of modesty seemed to be the only way to manage the phenomenal burden of responsibility it entailed.
As he looked outward at his world he saw that several urgent ecological adaptations were already being undertaken, the success of which required little further contribution from him. Global birth rates were well in decline, the environmental burden posed by the middle class was being systematically dismantled, and all of this seemed to be unfolding spontaneously.
Quite gradually, as the years went by, Ryan began to understand what Chayote had been telling him about the empire of the mind. He could be Emperor, not of any territory, but in his mind, an Emperor in its truest sense, but one very discreetly hidden in anonymity.
Ryan sat in his room in Orange, closing his diaries. He stopped trying to formulate the symbols he found at the edges of his consciousness. He realised that the ink on the page was just a representation; the true kingdom was the silence between his thoughts as he listened to the distant hum of Earth.
Chapter 17
Chayote sat up in his evening studio entertaining an entanglement he rarely consulted because it was one of literal gravity, namely an entanglement with his ancestors. He recognised that disabling the Centre's obsession with their shambolic attempt to synthesise entanglement would require deeper resources than he could muster alone.
When he felt that he had gathered the attention of the senior members of his family he went on to explain the nature of their predicament.
"Science, in its peevish definition of reality, proceeds on the assumption that entanglement is a signal to be harvested, amplified, and mechanised," he began. "They don't have the presence of mind to realise that the signal is consciousness itself."
The senior Matriarch nodded her understanding. "How has it offended you, child?" she asked.
"The Centre obtained a recording of my resonance which they are now using to train the minds of others," he answered.
"I understand," she replied. "This is not unexpected. It is implicit in the gradual march of technology. Fortunately, I believe we have developed an ability to counter this. We have practiced the art of emitting an inverted waveform on certain rivals we encountered in the past.
"Leave it in our capable hands, child. We will deal with the offender ourselves."
Chayote nodded his agreement, and thanked his ancestors for their support and interest in a matter he felt quite exposed to.
Chapter 18
MacGregor's dreamers were the first to notice that something was no longer working in their attempts at imitating Chayote's resonance. It wasn't just the absence of the signal that they had counted on, but the hallucinogenic compound was now making them feel ill. They reported an experience of vertigo under the influence of the substance, and the supervisory technicians were at a loss to explain what was going on.
When MacGregor heard the news about the pending failure of his experiment, he was furious, and stormed into the laboratory demanding to know what had gone wrong and how it could be fixed.
When the technicians explained to him that adjusting the settings which previously resulted in the desired effects were no longer affecting the experiment, they had to tell him that they had lost control and would likely never get it back.
"Keep trying," he told them, as he returned to his office. When he felt that he was no longer in earshot of others in the office area, he let forth an enraged "Damn!"
Chapter 19
The distant hum of the Earth seemed to fade entirely, leaving Ryan suspended in that pristine silence between his thoughts. He was no longer looking for symbols, nor was he trying to predict the next line of his diary. He was simply present.
It was in this profound stillness that the final ripple arrived. It didn't come as a voice, but as a sudden, clear shifting of light within his mind's eye, a familiar posture and tilt of the head.
"By the way," Chayote's presence seemed to murmur, the thought carrying the unmistakably warm vibration of a quiet smile. "I suppose I should mention that the bones you think of as mine turned to dust some three hundred years before you drew your first breath."
Ryan sat perfectly still in his room in Orange, but internally, a profound wave of irony washed over him. The sheer absurdity of it hit him all at once. He thought of MacGregor and his scientists, sweating over their headsets, trying to measure and mechanise a ghost. He thought of his own decades spent worrying about timelines, distances, and responsibilities. All of it was the "controlled folly" of the unawakened.
Chayote hadn't been a contemporary partner; he was an echo trapped in the amber of the stellar field lines. Or perhaps, Ryan realized with a silent answering chuckle, it was the other way around. In the architecture of the entangled, who was the ghost and who was the dreamer?
The joke, of course, was on death. Death required a linear timeline to function, a rigid sequence of tokens moving from beginning to end. But here, in the silence between thoughts, the timeline dissolved. Chayote wasn't gone, because he had never truly been bound by the calendar in the first place.
Ryan opened his eyes. The room in Orange was exactly as it had been, but the Emperor's kingdom was finally complete. He didn't need to write another word.