The Prometheus Objective

36

The tree, magnificent, scintillating and dazzling, was anything but a tree.

Caleb understood that fact. Understood it, just as he understood that he was no longer a being of matter, a thing in any sense of the word. He and Raiden were pure consciousness. Contained in a finite space, perceived by themselves and others as localized humanoid presences, but really nothing more or less than infinite thought, projected as energy or something just as indescribable and foreign in this other place beyond reality, beyond anything but the mind.

The tree loomed over them. Immense. Cosmic. Godlike in its intricacy, its countless branches, thriving golden leaves and kaleidoscopic hues defying definition.

Vines, shimmering in some indescribable multi-colored spectrum, oscillated over Caleb and Raiden, and now that he noticed, now that his ‘eyes’ adjusted, he could see that there were other forms attached to those vines.

Six other forms and two smaller ones, there in the center, nearest to the trunk. Glowing redder than the others, as if feeding off the tree, or being fed. Consuming lifeblood and having it course through them. The vines seemed to be attached at the heads, in what would have been a grotesque visual but instead seemed more like a natural biological-cosmic normality. Like an umbilical cord directly down the throat, enabling direct consumption of the infinite knowledge contained in the bits and bytes and 1s and 0s and cosmic interdimensional cells comprising the matter of the Tree of Life.

The Tree of Ultimate Knowledge.

It was Raiden’s voice, amplified and resonating along with pulses in his form, right beside Caleb. You’ve come full circle from the arrogant youth. The Fool of your precious Tarot, but unlike the Gnostic mystics throughout the ages who have sought for this, you have succeeded.

Caleb shuffled forward, only he knew it was more like hovering — floating and being drawn forward by the power of his mind. Or the pull of the tree, like a gravity well sucking him toward it.

You’ve felt the attraction all your life. From the first book you read, to the first time you asked your father why something was the way it was. Why the world was the world. Here, Caleb. Here are your answers.

Two vines approached like snakes, sinewy and even vibrating with a hissing-like sound, and their ends grew and swelled crimson, almost bursting with flavor, with an irresistible scent of mouthwatering fruit.

Are we supposed to take a bite? He thought, but it came out louder, reverberating. He cringed, as the other forms in here shuddered and writhed in his direction.

He wondered if the whole thing was sentient, and the snake-vines were just the holographic extensions of the whole mind-consciousness. He felt the temptation again, seeing the vine-fruit, hovering closer. Raiden’s form extended, pulling toward the fruit like a mask stretching in the wind.

Don’t hold back.

He saw his hand — a collection of particles and waves, and when he looked closer he could see images on the ‘skin’: memories from this and countless lifetimes flourishing in his mind-flesh. And in the fruit itself: a compelling array of loves and lovers, of friends and foes: their very essences appealing to be absorbed, touched, consumed and understood. He could join with his father, with Mom, with Lydia. They were all there, and the aching need to be with them surged. Not just a need, but a full wholehearted joy at a reunion beyond anything physical or temporary.

This was infinite.

This was forever and ever, and nothing would ever be the same.

No going back.

Not sure if he said-thought it or if that came from Raiden, but it was there. The others had gone back to their absorbing. To downloading or uploading. To becoming or assimilating.

And that was it, Caleb thought, as the fruit edged closer, as he touched the vine and his fingers trembled with the energy and vibrational power from the tree. A shudder from it, or from him, or from the eight other forms balanced here on the edge of forever.

Not just eight, he realized, as Raiden pulled the fruit closer to his maw, extending now and flashing with crimson teeth.

One more. A new arrival… had to be right behind them.

A familiar form. Lanky and thin, reminding him of a cartoon character, a friend of a talking dog.

Orlando?

The name itself called to mind something so ordinary and banal. Drew him careening away from the eternity at his fingertips, even as the form itself rushed headlong toward the massive center of the radiating, glowing trunk. Toward the two smaller crimson figures.

If they too noticed this newcomer, they showed no signs. They continued in their symbiotic feeding: taking and giving in return. As if their connection to the tree rejuvenated it, powered the vines, heated the sap, and invigorated the cells like some direct connection to photosynthesis.

Orlando got there in a blink, but in the next instant the vines reacted. Swooping in, encircling him, pinning back his arms, entwining tight around his body, right up to his neck. One of the fruit-bearing stalks rose from the center glow and approached his face.

Glorious, Raiden whispered. He spread his arms as the two stalks hung above them, and the crimson bulbs ripened.

Something’s wrong, Caleb thought. The twins. The others, can they even disengage?

Why would they? came the haughty response. They’re becoming one with Everything.

And how long does that take? Caleb wasn’t sure, but an image of a computer screen surfaced in his thoughts somewhere, with that little progress bar showing the download speed and time left. Shouldn’t take this long, no matter how massive the download.

Doesn’t matter, we’ll find out now.

Maybe we — you — should wait. See what it does to them.

The glowing face turned to him, and the colors swirled and fused into a mask of anger. Why? That sounds very un-Crowe like. Your father would not approve.

Something in the vine flickered and again he saw his dad’s face. And instead of shame, it brought a smile to his core.

It’s time, Crowe, Raiden said. You and I, we’ve met before, and due to the curse of amnesia, we’ve forgotten. But now, we see the larger picture, the grand map of destiny that has brought us together once more. One to rule, one to advise.

He clasped Caleb’s shoulder, and against his resistance, eased him forward, toward the forbidden fruit.

And as the vine extended with the gift offered, he saw Orlando struggling; he thrashed and tried to free one hand to grasp one child, to do anything to break the connection, and in that moment, Caleb knew…

Knew that the sinewy thing that now seemed like a massive serpent intrinsic to the tree itself but with countless smaller medusa-like appendages, had sought him out. Like with Adam, it had waited patiently, from his first page read in wonder from a book in his father’s library, to the discovery of the forbidden scrolls in the Pharos vault, to the first time he gazed up at the heavens in wonder… It had waited, knowing that with every taste, every page, every word, every vision, every bite — it only made this moment inevitable.

There was no resisting. Nothing else mattered.

Caleb knew it.

Raiden knew it. Raiden, who had brought him this far, who had found him and saved him for this one event, for this gift. He was already biting into the fruit, and—

Wait, look at the others. I don’t think we’ll come back …

But then the vine (serpent? download cord?) struck cobra-like, and plunged into Caleb’s mouth and down into his soul, locking on, expanding, and—

Everything changed.

Alexander stood transfixed on the sword of fire. The rift gave out waves of energy that felt like stinging gnats biting at his skin, even from twenty feet or more. He watched, squinting and, at times, could almost see figures in the swirling hues, through the gap. Figures — and something vast and powerful, with appendages or branches beckoning toward him.

“Step back,” came Aria’s voice. Gentle, at his ear. Her hand took his wrist and tried to pull him away, but he resisted.

“I can see him.”

“Who?”

“Dad’s in there.”

Her hand tightened.

Phoebe’s voice, from somewhere close. She sounded deathly scared, words ringing with helplessness. “He’s right. I see him too. And my children, and Orlando, that brave, reckless dumbass.”

“What about these others?” Nina asked, and Alexander took his eyes away for a moment to see the room: the six other tables, the IVs and monitoring equipment. The four men and two women appearing to be asleep or in comas, and when he took his eyes away, he could still see what looked like thin filaments, cobweb-like strands of light stretching from each body into the rift.

“They’re getting weaker,” he said, comparing the filament width to those winding from Orlando and his father’s hearts. “My guess is they don’t have long before their other, astral bodies become untethered for good.”

Phoebe touched her children’s foreheads, kissed each one, then reached for Orlando’s hand. “And then what?”

“They’ll die.”

Nina had a blade out, a sharp, bright thing still with some ice along its edge. She stood beside the head of one of the others, then zeroed in on Raiden’s body. Their enemy. It was all his doing, all this. And she could end it right now. The guardian goons were dispatched, and as far as she could see, there were no more threats down here. Not yet, anyway, but they were coming. The whole army, or what was left of it.

Jacob. She didn’t know — was he racing back? Did he save Temple?

Was he dead?

She put the thought out of her mind as she quickly went over and pressed the blade against Raiden’s neck. “Why wait? Let’s take these bastards out first. Give our team a chance.”

“I don’t know,” Phoebe cautioned as Nina stood over the red-clad body lying on its side beside Caleb. No REM movements behind anyone’s eyes. Barely a breath or a rise and fall of their chests. Nothing but a sleep like the dead. The teardrop shaped gem had slipped free and seemed now, for all purposes, like a worthless dime-store trinket around Raiden’s neck.

“I’m doing it,” Nina grumbled, grasping the head and tilting it back, exposing the jugular.

“Wait!” Alexander said, swooning…

He fell to his knees, eyes wide and white, staring straight into the rift.

“I’m seeing it.”

“What?” Phoebe asked, coming closer, gently touching his shoulder as Aria moved in and took his hand.

“But barely,” he said. “Jumbled. The past… the discovery by Byrd and the military. Nazis… down here. Tunnels and an army. Technology like… flying saucers. Augmented machines and deadly weapons. Scientists on the tables here, trying to steal secrets from the rift without… being lost forever.”

He groaned, winced, and started heaving. “They lost so many. I see them trying to wake the men. Bodies convulse, die and in that other world the astral forms, without a tether… they’re swallowed up, consumed by that thing.”

“I see it too,” Aria said with a sharp gasp. “But vaguely. A huge-ass glowing tree, writhing like some alien god, devouring everything, everyone like souls are just snacks.”

“Okay,” Nina said. “So… why can’t I kill these assholes?”

“It causes some kind of reaction to the tree-thing,” Phoebe said, nodding and breathing softly, calmly. “I think we’re all in the same vision now. I’m asking the question, demanding to be seen what happened down here, why they shut it down, and there it is…”

“We took over from the Nazis,” Alexander said. “Got them on the run, coming in under the ice in subs. A massive combined air-sea raid.”

“Operation High-Jump,” Aria whispered.

“Brutal battle,” Phoebe said. “But we stopped them, disrupted their defenses and took over the base, at least temporarily. There were others, and tunnels and escape routes; some went to South America…”

“Ancient history,” said Alexander.

“A fight for another day,” voiced Aria sternly.

“But then…” Nina prodded, still waiting to hear a logical response.

“Then,” said Phoebe, “we tried the same thing as them: sending scientists through to poke around and snag a few choice bits of wisdom; must have learned some things, because right around then our tech advanced so sharply. Microchips, computing power, space flight, miniaturization…”

Alexander coughed. “So, it wasn’t from crashed UFO tech, like some thought.”

Phoebe ignored him. “And while they were tethered to the tree, sucking at the trove of infinite wisdom, someone decided to kill one of the Nazis still in a coma, astrally-bonded on the other side.”

“The tree absorbed him, and it was like a bloodlust coursed through it,” Aria said, shuddering.

“Anyone else tethered to it… immediately shredded. And the bits devoured.” Phoebe shook her head and let go of Alexander, breaking the connection. “That’s the only word I can use.”

Nina stood up, folding the knife back. She hung her head in disappointment. “So… no killing.”

“No,” said Alexander, blinking now, turning away from the rift.

“What do we do, then?” Aria asked.

Alexander took a step closer to the red-clad body, as Phoebe returned to the table with her children, and closer to Orlando. She knelt by them, shaking her head.

“We can’t go in after them… there’s nothing left of the DNA-serum-changing catalyst thing.”

Aria sighed. “And we can’t get any closer physically.”

Another step, then Alexander dropped to a knee, under Nina’s watch. He reached out toward the dull gem around Raiden’s neck.

“Maybe someone can.”

He took the gem in his hand and felt it pulsing and warm, extending a vibrating sense of power and protection up his arm. Alexander saw a flash of the golden tree, the vines, and his father, hungry and nearly past the point of any return.

Then he was back. He ripped the gem free from Raiden’s neck, and Alexander stood and faced the rift.

“I know what to do.”