Am Ouil closed the massive door of his new quarters, the giant suite of rooms in which he felt so lost, and stumbled to the new chair on the other side of the reception area. The chair adapted to him, holding him in place even though doing so was unnecessary in the moderate gravity that now existed as the habitat was moved to a new location near the gas giant. Am held his face in his hands and broke into tears, giving vent to the grief he held back all morning. Everything in his life was messed up. Even the new quarters caused him misery, its highly purified, lightly perfumed air causing him to notice the sweat, oil and machinery smell of the remainder of the habitat every time he left it. His original quarters would have been lost inside any of the bathrooms in this new suite.
The room adapted to his dark mood, the lights dimming and soft music starting to play.
Am had been perfectly content as a technician recording and studying the signals sent by the devices the probe generating crews had manufactured. Having few outside interests and fewer friends, he had dedicated himself to the millennia-old puzzle of what the stuff was and how it could be studied. He had been able to resist the attentions of his family. Few outside his family and co-workers had been aware he existed. Now he was the center of attention of his race and ... others.
The probe project no longer existed. What had seemed to be a noise field was a giant, intelligent probe machine. Everybody had been reassigned inwards to the habitats being built at the gas giant planet's Trojan points. Everything was being moved, even the remains of the interstellar vehicle that had brought them to this system.
Am's grandfather, Gorm, who previously spoke to him only at family celebrations, fewer than three times per year, had retired and daily offered him suggestions. "Take advantage of the situation -- it won't last," was his advice.
Why was the project canceled? Because of the product of their research, of nearly a million years of study and testing. The new probe machine now extended far beyond the place where the habitat had been parked. The probe machine, following its directives, combined all of its elements in new ways into a new creation. And it had spoken directly to his mind. To him, alone among all of his people. Making probes was now pointless and tracking them impossible.
Am was a hero. Everyone knew him. He was a celebrity of a magnitude previously unknown among his people, a symbol of the success of the creative force of his people, the daily subject of news broadcasts. People wrote poetry and songs about him. Thousands of generations of dedicated, intelligent, creative people had worked almost a million years and he got the reward for all of their efforts. They themselved honored him. It wasn't fair. It made him feel guilty. Thousands of women had proposed marriage, even more had made more modest proposals. He had to dress, eat, sleep, talk with the eyes of the whole race on him. It had been that way even before the really big discoveries had been made.
Am's sobbing diminished and degenerated into hiccoughs. He closed his eyes in agony at the memory of the second big discovery ...
"Machine, one of the reasons we studied the probes was to see if we could use the technology to communicate with our people on other worlds. The home world and all of the worlds they colonized. Quickly, without waiting for a machine to reach them with a message. Without waiting for light to crawl all of that distance. Can we do that now?"
::Not directly, but there is a way. I must contact them. One of them must be chosen as a contact and then I can communicate with him and relay messages between you and them.::
"How? ... You can't contact them directly. How can you contact them?"
::You live in the four dimensions of this universe, the same universe they occupy. I must make duplicates of myself outside of this universe. When they return to this universe they can search, as I did, for others of your people. It will take several of your days, perhaps as few as five. When they find others of your race they can choose one individual to anchor to, as I chose you. I can communicate with my duplicates outside of your universe. I leave your universe every five days. So will they. That is when messages will be sent. You should get their replies five days later.::
"A five day wait? Only five days? And that's all there is to it?"
::I serve only you. I cannot do this on my own. You must order me to do it.::
"Sure, go ahead. Do it. Let me know when you get a message back."
Without thinking, he had said, "Sure, go ahead." Within days, thousands and thousands of his people, newly Chosen, were screaming for his attention, for explanations, to complain or congratulate or brag. It was a great shock, bringing more acclaim, less privacy, more demands made of him every moment day and night, locally and from other star systems.
Millions of messages arrived. The volume of messages increased at the end of each five day period. He had the machine transcribe the messages onto storage disks that he turned over to the many unoccupied people on the ship. He placed his old supervisor, Kinram Kwausch, in charge. Kinram was overwhelmed. Finally the task of organizing the message traffic was given to Henir Krasp, who had been one of the sub-coordinators of the instrumentation project. Henir reported to Am daily with message summaries and problems.
"Some of them hate you. They think you should never have been chosen, that they should have been the ones."
"They are probably right. I shouldn't have been chosen. I have no special qualifications. Many of our people would be much better at whatever it is that I'll have to do. Many of them deserve the attention and praise more than I do. Even you."
"Others don't just hate you, they hate us. They say we are a degenerate line in evolution, sinking below the mighty and noble hunters that were our ancestors."
"We have evolved three specialized subspecies: those longriders who are part machine so they can survive the long ride between the stars; we spacefarers who occupy the safe space about a target sun; and the highly variable ground explorers, in some ways most like our ancient ancestors while being capable of genetic variability to adapt them to the new worlds we find. Any of us are children of our ancient fathers and we treat each other as brothers. This racial hatred is new. I don't care for it."
"Fortunately that reaction has been rare. Most are proud that any of our kind have received this honor and feel that you, having received it, deserve it as much as anyone else. Many seem to feel that you will demonstrate your worthiness in the years to come."
"Are there other intelligent races? Are we alone?" The Chosen Ones asked their First Chosen, "Can we contact them?" No other intelligent form of life had ever been discovered by any of the colonies, although lower forms of plant and animal were common.
The probe machines wouldn't answer the question. Most told their Chosen, ::We don't know. Research has never been done.:: Am knew what was needed. He must order his probe machine to seek out other intelligent races. But what were the criteria for intelligence? The ability to build cities? The knowledge and technology to explore space? Being able to establish colonies on other star systems?
More than a million years previously, Am's ancestors had somehow learned to use stone tools, then copper and other metals. They had turned from hunting to agriculture and had built towns and cities. A million years of advanced technology hadn't modified them much from the wild hunters they had been. Physically and mentally, they were still much the same now as those early people had been. Gradually, over many weeks of discussion and argument, Am had developed and refined a definition of intelligence he could live with.
Am gave the command to begin the search and to establish communications with any suitable beings that were found. The deluge began. Billions and billions and billions of newly Chosen sought explanations, just as his race had done. His message handlers were unable to stand the load. Am ordered the probe machine to handle all alien traffic, summarizing the communications and bringing any new and important considerations to his attention when he asked for it. It wasn't enough to bring peace but it did hold off insanity for a while.
Am's popularity increased even more. His privacy was even more limited. Another sob escaped the miserable figure in the soft, pale green chair.
And there would be no end to it. This soon became clear. With billions of Chosen, one was sure to die very soon. Many did, and were reincarnated or healed. Death would not be the end of it. Am would be the center of attention forever. He couldn't look forward to any peace at all, ever. Never, never, never.
Could it get worse? Am couldn't have imagined how it might but was convinced it would. And he was right.
The Chosen Ones were scattered over billions of universes. Many of them were starfaring races looking for new worlds to colonize. They asked, "Is there a way to take advantage of the empty worlds that exist so profusely in other universes?"
Am held many heated discussions on this topic, both with those near him and with those linked by the probe machines. The probe machines existed in all of the universes -- could they transport colonists to these other universes? The probe machines answered that they didn't know. They were as curious as the people they served. They all waited for Am, who was as terrified by that possibility as he was by having to make the decision that so many races demanded of him. He soon found the reality to be far worse than anything he could have conceived.
Travel as they knew it was impossible between universes. No gateway could be opened, no transformation could be performed. However the probe machines could make copies of people or things between universes. There were complications. To go between universes, one must go into the past. Not the true past but the synchronization between universes. Nothing in the true past could be changed, but the probe machines could take advantage of the temporal relationship between universes that permitted them to exist everywhere.
Clamor arose. For some reason, Am was the one individual who had to decide whether or not to try. Even the mighty probe machines deferred to him. He asked everyone on the habitat if they were willing to try this risky experiment. All agreed enthusiastically. So Am arranged for a world to be selected from another universe never before visited and for the entire habitat to be copied into its vicinity.
The new world was a lifeless rock, its atmosphere poisonous, but it could be made hospitable. Terra forming supplies existed in the habitat, but the probe machine offered to do most of the work to speed up the transformation. The habitat's velocity was changed to start to match the planet in its orbit about this new sun. In the midst of these preparations, Am and all of his crew found themselves back where they had been at just the moment they thought they had left.
After five days, they reverted back to their original universe. They still continued to exist in the new universe. They switched back and forth every five days. Each transition caused them to backtrack in time just enough to pick up where they had left off. Following each transition they remembered most vividly what they had been doing most recently. They also clearly remembered what they did in the other universe. As they discovered later, it didn't matter how many universes were involved.
But Am had to be in both places for the probe machine to make it happen. Otherwise, the probe machine would lose track of the new colony. Not only would Am live forever, he would do so in many places, switching madly from one to another. Each of the Chosen would be such a bridge if Am decided to let them.
Another curse: everybody waited for Am to decide everything, even the probe machines serving all of the Chosen. Unaccustomed to making decisions for anybody but himself, he preferred to drift along with circumstances, usually choosing to be alone. His decisions had always been trivial compared to the fateful ones he was pushed into making now.
The clamor rose to a scream. Not only would colonization become easy but everybody who participated would live many lives as a result. Immortality was at hand and greeted as a miracle except by Am and a small minority of the Chosen. But Am gave in, crumbled under the pressure, and gave the word. Almost instantly the population of all of the universes increased.
New problems developed. Some of the Chosen were hostile and vicious. They attacked other Chosen or other probe machines. The Chosen Ones were protected by their probe machines, which were unstable and easily lost track of their anchoring Chosen. They had to be protected. Late one night, in an attempt to find a solution to the problem, Am had made a terrible blunder.
As hard as he fought the depression and discomfort, something sad remained within him. This particular habitat where the nightmare began sometimes made him overwhelmingly sad.
The doorbell chimed. Am sighed, composed himself with the help of his probe machine and, appearing to have an enthusiasm and energy he didn't feel, the most powerful being in all of the known universes went to answer the door.
"Brill! Thank heavens its you."
Brill managed a shy smile, replying, "You invited me. How could I refuse the summons of the Chosen One?"
Am, noticing her obvious discomfort, quickly invited her inside. Learning that she had already eaten, he offered her a cup of kaff. The two of them located a dining area, far larger than they needed, and sat down to nervously play with their cups.
Brill started the conversation. "I haven't seen you since you ... were chosen," she said.
"I've made many mistakes. That was one of them. I was completely unprepared for the responsibility that came to me."
"At first I thought it was wonderful, you being chosen and contacting the others, then discovering all those new races. Then I wasn't able to talk with you and it wasn't so wonderful."
"It was never wonderful for me. It has been a terrible nuisance, always having to make decisions for everybody as if I knew what I was doing. When there was a problem, I was the one expected to solve it. Have you heard about our probe machine stability problem?"
"Yes. They've been talking about it for days and days."
"Late last night I solved it. In the process, I made one of the worst mistakes of my life."
A long silence followed. Finally, Brill asked, "Does that have something to do with you inviting me here now?"
"Yes. I want to fix part of the mistake if I can. Besides, I have few friends and I have been neglecting all of them. But you are special, more special than you know."
Am took a long swallow of his kaff, then, finding it difficult to start, refilled both of their cups.
"I asked my probe machine to take me as far away from this mess as it could, long enough for me to find out what I could do about probe machine stability. When it asked me how much time I needed, I didn't know what to say, so I asked for as much time as possible. That was a big, big mistake."
Brill understood immediately. The color drained from her face and she brought her hands up to her cheeks. "How long ...?"
"It wasn't just me. It was all of us on the habitat."
"How long?"
"For me, a hundred thousand years have passed since last night."
The long silence was broken by Brill's giggle. "You've aged very little for someone so old."
"Thank you. I am very well preserved, I guess. After each century or so, the probe machine built me a new body of about this age, to replace the worn-out one I was forced to discard."
"Discard?"
"I would die. When my body was too worn out to support me, I would die. The probe machine would give me a new body."
"And everybody else would just die, right?"
"Right. It took eight years before we could settle on the surface of the new world. It was a wild place, a lovely place. I loved it. It is much better than living in a big metal can in space.
"We had been there about six years, exploring and settling in. We all lived close together at first. One afternoon I went for a walk beside a river. I asked the probe machine if there were creatures in the river. It told me that there were many creatures, including fish we could eat, and asked me if I wanted to catch one of the fish. It seemed like an adventure, so I decided to try. The probe machine made me a fishing machine, a pole with a reel of string and a hook. It told me where to find bait and how to attach it, then told me to cast the bait as far out as I could. A fish attacked it immediately, scaring me slightly, then started pulling out all of the string. It took me a while to control it enough to start recovering the string. I had a long battle to pull that first fish up onto the rocky shore at the edge of the river. It was longer than my forearm, bright silver, strong and beautiful."
Somehow, without either of them thinking about it, their hands met and clung fiercely.
"I had been screaming so much that everybody had come out to see what was happening. I showed them the fish and the pole. Somebody took the pole and started fishing. Following the probe machine's instructions, I cleaned the fish, built a fire right out there beside the river, and cooked it. And you shared that first fish, half burned and half raw, with me. That's when I finally asked you to bond with me.
"We lived together for more than seventy years. It was the happiest time of my life. They built us a house on a hill about half a mile from the ocean, near the mouth of the river where I caught that first fish. It was a big house, and we raised four sons and four daughters there. They built a park around it and have continued to maintain it for your return. It took me another seven centuries to solve the stability problem. Then I lived without you for almost a thousand centuries, waiting for the day I would see you again. Today.
"I am not going to wait so long this time. I love you. Will you bond with me, Brill?"
Her answer was immediate, as if she had seen the question coming. "Yes," was all she needed to say, and she said it so softly Am wasn't sure he had heard the answer. She repeated her answer more loudly, then she was in his arms.
Am and Brill, hand in hand, marched to the apartment of Brill's father. Am knocked on the door. Brill's father opened it and gestured them in. Am said, "I have asked Brill to bond with me and she has accepted. We would like your approval for the union if you will grant it."
Brill's father responded with equal formality. "You have my approval and my blessing on your union." He then proceeded to tie a bright multicolor cord to each of their arms, binding them together.
The trio then marched to the apartment where Am's parents lived. Am's father and mother were waiting by the open door and quickly gestured them in, away from the growing crowd. Am said, "I have asked Brill to bond with me and she has accepted. We have the approval and blessing of her family. We would like your approval for the union if you will grant it."
Am's parents glanced at each other, each nodding to the other, then they chanted in unison, "You have our approval and our blessing on your union." Together they tied a bright green cord from arm to arm binding Am to Brill. Am's brother and sisters rushed into the room to congratulate the couple.
Am's father opened the apartment door to find the habitat chief and his administrative assistant standing there with a noisy, impassible crowd gathered behind them. The two slipped inside and the door was shut on the crowd.
The ceremony in which Am and Brill pledged themselves each to the other was brief and ended with the pronouncement by the habitat chief, "Am and Brill, Bond-Mates, I replace this physical bond with a representation of the bonds of your pledges to each other." The cords were cut and the ends wrapped and secured around the left wrist of each. Holding their bonded wrists together above his head, he said, "May this bond bring you fortune, love and peace." The happy couple embraced and kissed briefly. Am's former gloom was forgotten, not to be remembered for at least a year.
The paperwork was quickly gotten out of the way and a celebration began spontaneously, one that included everybody on the habitat. There had been no need to plan a reception -- it just happened.
It was a full day later before Am and Brill could return to their apartment to begin the traditional ten days Together Time that would complete their bonding. They were not disturbed. When they finally emerged from their apartment, the party was still going on. Their absence had been noted but didn't slow down the celebration at all.
Brill stood for the very first time on the surface of a planet, in a garden. It was the middle of Spring and flowers were in bloom everywhere. This version of Am, visibly a few years older, led her through a plant-covered gateway so she could see the house that had been built for the pair of them almost a hundred thousand years previously, all massive white with dark timbers framing windows and doors. More flowers in all colors covered the hillside leading down to the ocean, gleaming bright blue beneath a clear blue sky. To one side of the path was a gazebo of red wood where five people waited.
A middle-aged woman stepped forward and introduced herself as Kinai Tormals, chief magistrate of the district. The young man with her was introduced as her administrative assistant. A young woman in a bright multicolor cloak was introduced as Bethmai Brilk, who could trace her ancestry back to the first Brill incarnation's sister, who would represent Brill's family. The remaining two, about Am's age and dressed in bright green cloaks, were introduced as Marcin and Corai Ouil, Am's grandson and great-granddaughter, who would represent Am's family.
Am asked the ritual questions, receiving permission and blessing from both families, and the brief ceremony of bonding was repeated. When the paperwork was done and everybody had congratulated the once more newly bonded couple, a crowd of nearly a hundred people marched through the gate through which Brill had come, robots set up tables with food and drink all around the gazebo, and the party began. When the sun neared the hills behind the house, the crowd slipped away, leaving the young couple alone.
Am led Brill to the door of the house, there presenting her with a ring of keys symbolizing that she was to be the mistress of this, her domain, a tradition practiced only on the surface of a planet.
Again the couple was undisturbed for the ten days of Together Time. But when they emerged they were whisked off to the largest nearby city so the billion people of this world could help them celebrate their union.