Great Is the Mystery

By Anthony Van

When technology tests the senses to the degree that reality and computer generated experiences become almost indistinguishable, that’s when a person’s sanity is called into question, that’s when your grip on reality is challenged. In a near future time, where totalitarianism has become humanity’s solution to anarchy, crime, non-conformity and an unpalatable adherence to belief systems contrary to the pragmatic naturalistic model, Zac finds himself trying to remain uncommitted to anything but his own survival.
That survival includes employment in the black economy, avoidance of any behaviour likely to attract the brutal suppression of federation security forces and distraction through highly addictive virtual reality gaming. The game he was playing was different. For one, it’s ability to transport you into a believable other world was unsurpassed. Secondly, it had a plot totally different from the empire building or endless battle narratives he was accustomed to. This game challenged his life philosophy. It was an allegory of what the world could be like if God intervened in the ways some people wished he would—all safety, all protection but no restraints.
His resistance to the game’s message brought friction with the people he was beginning to care for and jeopardy to his personal safety. With the threat of discovery by federation security, Zac began the hazardous journey to get back to Australia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anthony Van
• Release date: Jul 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005026660

Anthony Van

What does a retired teacher do? Especially a teacher with a hyperactive imagination and ingrained work habits. Well this one writes. And being a Christian, each novel I have written necessarily is pieced together from a Christian perspective.I have a broad range of interests which include science and technology, mathematics, travel, sports and the interrelationship of people. Much of what intrigues me about people is that some pursue truth with the determination of a bloodhound while others almost ignore existential ideas and while away their short time spent on earth being distracted by people or pleasures or possessions or power.Writing is a hobby. It allows me to research and self educate, and it also permits me to refine my perspectives of concepts existential and theological.

Book preview

Great Is the Mystery

Published by Anthony Van at Smashwords

Copyright Anthony Van 2019

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorised retailer. Thank you for your support.

Chapter 1

His world was dreamlike, absolutely convincing and nonsense at the same time. How well did he know the characters about him? Could he build trust in these transient encounters? Even though the records would state he had walked this path before, many times, and gathered information for the tasks required of him, there was an eerie feeling about this time. It was outside the parameters described. There was something more to it than anything he had previously experienced.

Will Durham stared at the data button. He had heard of them. He had seen pictures of them in the units of media history he had read in the instruction handbook. It was among the various instructional modules in his ‘communication masters certification’ that was part of his role. And yet, it was a mystery to him what to do with it. It had arrived with his midday meal delivery—a capsule secreted beneath a pastry slice—and it presented multiple puzzles.

He had picked the capsule up and a touch sensitive recording had sounded in an electronic tinged voice, Will Durham…for your eyes only…lives depend on it. He had twisted the base of the capsule that had contained the micro playback device, opened the sugar cube sized container and the data button had fallen out.

It was significant. Someone had gone to the trouble of concealing and masking the delivery of this secret message. The assumption was, he supposed, that his bio detailed him as being a notable, galactic news reporter—one who had broken a few stories of corruption and conspiracies of planetary scale—and he was required to act on what the button contained.

The conundrum was that if it was for his eyes only, how would he get advice about how to read it? Clearly, someone doubted the cryptographic encoding of the universal network to have bypassed, what was virtually, the sole carrier of data and communications across the galaxy. He fingered the small, gold coloured disc. He would have to research its workings. The thought that nibbled at the back of his mind was to retrace the origin of his lunch and try to determine who had placed the archaic memory device in his sealed lunch container.

Will walked over to the large window near his workspace and looked out. The eightieth floor of Informer Spire looked over the largest metropolis on Taleo. Several towers matched, and some surpassed, the lofty altitude of the building, and large windows presented a spectacular scene against the majestic backdrop of the Balfour Range pinnacles. He used the plastic spoon to eat a few mouthfuls of spicy sweet meat, fruit and rice concoction. He imagined which neurones were activated to register the multiplicity of exotic tastes and smells. The how, why and who imponderables of the device were scrabbling for attention in a jumble of theories. His jaw chewed slowly as if the questions themselves were his meal.

He jumped suddenly, stimulated nerves responded, as a hand touched his arm. Will turned to see Keela standing behind him. She smiled and her face was dominated by the horizontal. Her eyes squinted, her reddened lips parted and stretched wide showing two rows of perfectly aligned white teeth. Did I give you a fright? she sniggered.

You startled me.

You were in another world. What were you thinking?

Our triple Ds are fairly sophisticated aren’t they?

You’re talking about the Dangerous Device Detectors?

He nodded.

We’ve been told they’re virtually foolproof. I can’t imagine anyone getting anything past those things.

What if someone tried to smuggle a device on a SCART? He was referring to the Self-Contained Automatic Robot Transporters.

Wouldn’t work…The triple Ds scan and identify every part that is supposed to be on the SCART. They would find anything not meant to be there.

Will nodded again, slower this time.

Why do you want to know?

He pulled a taut smile and lifted his food capsule. Just wondering… He then fabricated a further complication. I mean…what if someone tried to poison a meal container?

Keela shook her head vigorously. Not possible. You know how they work. Every item, every chemical is identified. If something conflicts with the programmed audit list or disallowed materials it would be stopped.

Yes…that’s right…that’s how it works. It was hearing her say it that clarified the suspicion of how it might be possible—was possible; for the capsule had arrived! And it had a non-audited data button inside. The notion of program hacking was not new to him.

He looked more directly at Keela Constance. He was, apparently, one of the few who knew her actual assigned name. All others he came into contact with, if they knew her, called her KC. She had told him she went by KC to avoid a repetition of the ragging she had endured during knowledge attainment sessions. He liked Keela and he suspected she liked him, but he wasn’t ready for any ties—if they were possible in this electronically regulated world.

Is this something to do with the proposed robotic legislation you’re reporting on? She maintained eye contact as she said it and it made him marginally uncomfortable. There was something intimate about holding your gaze with someone you find attractive.

No…no…It’s still being debated…and, from what I can tell, I can’t see the codifiers passing a law that allows robots to override human commands on the basis of life preservation or moral precedence…I think the no harm guidelines are doing the job. That was the line he was expected to iterate.

Keela turned as she heard the hiss of the elevator. Staff were returning from their lunch break.

I should get back to my colonisation article. How much more do you have to do? She was adhering to the strict instructional protocols she had been primed with.

Virtually finished…I mean, it’s an ongoing story…but my take on the progress of the debate is done. I only need to polish it a bit. He watched distractedly as another load of workers came out of a lift. He had been there long enough that all the faces were familiar. He still wasn’t clear where the threat was coming from, what the challenge would be; he too was sticking to the protocols. The open space had numerous desks with a variety of digital devices and display screens being awoken from temporary slumber. One or two desk pods disappeared behind opaque polymer partitions rising from recesses in the floor. These enabled private conversations and uninterrupted work sessions. Should you wish to contact one of these workers, a handprint on a panel of the partition would inform the occupant who was wanting their attention. They could respond immediately or provide an appointment time.

The two reporters wandered back to their desks. Will knew that completion of a scheduled task was required before he would get his next instructions.

Catch ya later, stated Keela chirpily and continued on to her work space. He sat down and accessed the network to search for information. Aware that his every action on the network was open to scrutiny, he devised a justification. Maybe his next ‘story’ would be about technological evolution. He certainly could argue that it followed on from robotics’ legislations. The directive into the data store, ‘reading superseded data buttons’ rapidly returned numerous articles about solid state memory storage. It took several attempts before he located the particular device that had been sent to him. Notes on the topic suggested that it was still popular amongst fringe groups of conspiracy theorists who were convinced that every digital interaction was gathered and assigned to personal history files. They transferred information between themselves using data buttons and minute plug in data readers. These were often consulted in electronically screened environments.

Will implemented security strategies as a matter of form. Checking out the availability of the readers caused him to blur the search purpose by adding numerous other data handling techniques to his information collection, all the way back to primitive magnetic recording. Side issues like fringe groups, alternative communications and future possibilities, obfuscated his reason for the search sufficiently to give him deniability that he was suspicious of the network.

While not initially discernible, it was evident to Will that certain electronic enthusiast groups were offering various data readers for sale if the offer was right. The absence of any recording device other than digital pens, and audio and graphic capture meant that he had to memorise the location of the suppliers to prevent tell-tale electronic memory of the event. He rehearsed the two most likely suppliers several times till he was sure he would remember them.

He was now versed well enough with Teleo to know the best way to get around. Taking a hire tube car to a precinct identified with a number of historical digital artefact collectors near to the suppliers he had chosen, Will recorded a number of brief interviews about defunct technologies. These were bit players in his determination to see this new quest to its completion. The characters hardly emerged from the tapestry of the world and it made him doubt their actual existence.

He then walked hastily to the first of his two selected old tech collectors. Their range of products were sold as ornamental novelties and collector’s items by explicit declaration, and were provided to genuine non-conformists subtly and discreetly.

The first place was averse to any suggestion that they knew of ways to communicate apart from the universal network. These technologies were no longer supported, not compatible with current interfaces and far too inefficient to be useful. The second store was also wary. So he asked for a data button writer. Why would he want a writer? He tried to convey the importance of confidential communication. They recommended modern encryption onto the network. Will countered that quantum algorithms were able to dismantle the most sophisticated encryptions these days; nothing was secret. He then added, if they had them, he would purchase two writers and two readers. That would enable two-way communication without interception. That was the key. The argument swayed them, possibly in concert with the promise of a substantial sale. In a bizarre twist the proprietor suggested he might need some shielding apparatus and offered a Faraday shield for a further ten gram coin. As an added incentive he included an adaptor cable for modern computing devices. The man said the old tech wouldn’t link otherwise. He never ignored unsolicited direction. It was the only way to survive in these settings. Will parted with two twenty gram gold coins and a ten gram gold coin to gain highly questionable goods—fifty gram was a fair portion of his initial allotment and there were four cycles till his next allotment. He would monitor his balance.

Will studied the data storage paraphernalia briefly. These items were the sort of thing for someone with something to hide. It was a principle that was patently obvious to him. He would keep them hidden.

Quickly retracing his steps to the tube dock, he waited seconds before the personalised transporter arrived. A slight hiss, even a hint of wafting escaping air as the hatch pivoted up and allowed him to enter, tantalised his senses. The return journey went unnoticed as Will considered where the trail would lead when the data button was accessed and the message revealed. What sort of challenges could come from such a secretive communication?

Will walked to his desk which wasn’t far from Keela’s. He raised his partition—something he hadn’t done before. The lighting diminished and the glow of his computer increased proportionately. As an added security measure, he used the portable Faraday shield. He lifted the telescopic pole from a small tripod base until it was two metres high, opened the umbrella like appendages and lowered the sheer titanium mesh to the floor. It meant ostensibly, for the moment, he was cut off from electronic communications.

Plugging the adaptor into his device and attaching a reader, he opened up the data button. It was a video file. The video began but he couldn’t hear anything. The earbuds on the desk quickly solved that problem. After restarting the thread, he watched as a male, slightly older than he, appeared:

"My name is Driscoll Ryder. I was a psycho-scientist working for Day Conglomerate. I need you to help me. Will, you’re one of the few in the media who are not under the thumb of Ubel Day. I have learned, by hacking into the Perfect World Network, that four prototype new worlds are being used as a social and psychological experiment. The populations of these worlds are unwitting subjects to environmental manipulation. We need to rescue at least four citizens from each world to testify against Ubel Day. The Justice Court will respond to the weight of their witness. They will reveal the mental and emotional enslavement he has perpetrated against these populations.

Stealth and guile will see you through…only magnetic weapons may be used."

Driscoll, who had spiky, fair hair and lively hazel eyes looked down at a screen. He then continued:

I’m working with Kevalin Adamson. He is waiting at Teleo Central Spaceport for you and any trustworthy recruits you can bring to support our cause. You must vouch for your team members. Secrecy is essential. You will be given a problem to solve at the Spaceport. If you succeed, your completed team will be given a way to bypass security to get to the private space cruiser Kevalin will pilot. Do not delay. Latecomers won’t be allowed to join. Keep this data button as further instructions will be available when needed. Godspeed.

The archaic sign off halted any action briefly. Will resumed his new role as the words ‘Do not delay’ flashed on the screen. He unplugged the reader. Then putting his device and the small collection of items he got earlier into a small satchel, he lowered the screen.

Chapter 2

I’m coming with you, announced Keela.

What are you talking about KC? he said dismissively.

When I saw your screen go up, I knew something was up. I put a signal amplification device on the screen. I got everything you saw on your device…I’m going with you.

Will was pleased and suspicious at the same time. His security measures had amounted to nothing. And now he already had a team member. Would she frustrate his endeavours or was she one of the team members that Driscoll had implied he would recruit? It sounded like there was a plan afoot more extensive than his role. Here was another case of ‘go with the flow’. He would work with Keela if she proved cooperative or he would try to eliminate her.

Well, are you ready to go?

Sure…but we need to swing past my place. I’ve got something that might be handy on another planet.

Will looked at her curiously. Had she been forewarned about his involvement? If she was linked to the regime he would be leading her to an anti-government cabal.

Where are you at?

It’s on the way to the spaceport…Say, is this outfit okay…I’ve got a few to choose from for interstellar travel.

You serious? Will shook his head. Keela gave a quirky smile that he really couldn’t fathom.

They went to the nearest tube hire hub. Two individual tube cars whisked their passengers away consecutively, in quick succession. The next car recognised a two occupant vehicle was needed and slid into the dock within seconds of the last one. Presumptuously, Will moved to the forward control seat.

"So, you know my location number? Keela asked wryly.

Sorry. He got out and moved to the back. Keela patted his arm and his skin tingled from the touch sensation.

I know…It’s a guy thing…But you know they drive themselves don’t you?

Will scrunched his face as if to say ‘you don’t say’ but said nothing.

The rapid transit to the indicated screen location made him aware of the affluent district she resided in.

How can you afford this on your allotment? he remarked as they rode the elevator to a significant height.

Not envious are you?

No…just curious. He glanced around at the verdant indoor greenery under recessed grow lamps, the water features and the lavish design and, inside the luxurious apartment, he drank in the spectacular view of the city through one wall of windows. Will added, …and maybe a bit jealous. It must cost a fortune.

Apparently, some people come from wealth. I’ll be back in a minute. She disappeared into her bedroom.

Will reflected that his bio put him at the other end of the spectrum. He had no parents and no assets to speak of. He made enough as a lead reporter to cover his rent and live modestly. That was it. He sauntered along the ceiling to floor windows trying to place various landmarks. The delay was starting to agitate him. Are you okay KC? he called, vaguely aware that unpredictable things could occur. Were they being tracked already?

Almost ready…just give me a sec. Keela called back.

She emerged holding a small backpack but his attention was directed at her outfit. She had changed from her formal work clothes to casual wear. His first thought, apart from being appreciative, was what was the point? Then it occurred to him that their actions might be inhibited by something as mundane as uncomfortable clothing. And it could be true that compared to the other journalists in the office, his clothing could be described as slovenly, if one were to be unkind. They were certainly rated as comfortable. He didn’t have more than three choices but he was sure, glancing at the setting, Keela could have spent a lot longer making selections from an electronic wardrobe menu.

So you changed…I thought the comment was merely academic.

Do you like it? She spun around and made a fashionable pose. Though he could appreciate the aesthetic qualities of her appearance, his reply was a slight rebuff. Very nice, but I don’t think how we look is going to see us through this.

Did you get what you came for? he asked slightly cynically, assuming the ulterior motive had been to satisfy her whims for fashion.

Keela reached around and withdrew an ancient looking book. This… she said. The sayings of Eli Benn. I was told it was important.

The resultant face he made reflected what he thought. Why would some mystical proverbs make a difference to their task?

You’ll end up thanking me for this. The words were so assured he was left mute.

They returned to the nearest tube hub and a car soon arrived. Go ahead, Keela stated drily, and motioned with her arm that he should take the front position. I wouldn’t want to usurp your rightful status.

He stared at her briefly. I’ll sit in the back, he said flatly, unwilling that she should score some ‘I’m-the-bigger-person’ points over such a trifling issue. Sitting behind her, seeing her dark hair out down to her shoulders instead of tied back for work, he wondered to himself; who are you?

The trip to the spaceport, like all tube car rides, was brief. There were mild sensations of sweeping around curves at speed and acceleration and deceleration forces, but there was little physical data to determine the distance travelled apart from the digital map display.

***

At the terminal, each tube hub had up to ten tube cars merging into a single file to disgorge their passengers. The vehicles quickly disappeared to proceed to the pickup centre or the reserve storage area, depending on the demand. People were everywhere, streaming from the labyrinth of tube hubs. Keela slid her arm into his which jolted him and the unfamiliar contact made him decidedly uncomfortable.

What are you doing KC? He sounded bewildered.

Two young people at a spaceport, what looks more natural than a young couple walking arm in arm?

Maybe natural for you. The comment didn’t dissuade her at all. You’re enjoying this aren’t you?

Uh huh… Her smile was disconcerting to Will. Secretly, he was chuffed.

A tall, unshaven, dark haired man, barely in his twenties, confronted them. He pulled the lapel of his sport jacket back to reveal a spaceport security medallion. He said quietly and sternly, Security…What is your destination?

The realisation that they had no strategy for justifying their presence resulted in a stultifying silence.

Well…Show me your tickets…Where are you going?

Um…We’re going on a private cruiser…We’re just on our way to meet our host. Keela smiled sweetly at him.

He smiled. Very good. At least one of you can think on their feet…Name’s Garrett Irving. I have some spare security IDs in case someone asks.

What? Will tried to assimilate what was happening.

Garrett walked alongside them. Driscoll contacted me…said I’d be able to join you here.

How did you know it was us?

Your pictures…Driscoll sent them…and such a lovely couple you make too.

That was the idea. It’s part of the plan, shot back Keela.

You mean you’re not a couple? he chortled facetiously.

We’re work colleagues, she protested. Her vigorous denial battered Will’s previously solid self-image. His eyes were averted and strangely met the gaze of another girl staring at him. She looked uncertain and slightly agitated. A half step forward was halted when she saw his returned look. His wrist communicator sprang to life. Recruit her, it commanded. The monitoring threw him briefly. Somehow their moves were being watched and manipulated.

Will left Garrett and Keela as they continued to verbally spar and drew near to the indecisive girl.

I believe you’re joining our team.

She looked about to see who Will was talking to. He continued. I take it Driscoll contacted you about helping him expose Ubel Day?

Yes, she replied timidly. Will wondered what use this fragile looking girl would be in the quest.

What’s your name?

Cecilia. Her large brown eyes fluttered. I’m sorry…I’m still trying to work out what I have to do. I don’t do this sort of thing very often. She looked down to her side. I have my book…I was told it had things in it that will help us.

Eli Benn?

That’s right.

Some unkind thoughts flashed into his mind. ‘He had a newbie on the team…and why was it that now two members had some information that he was not privy to?’ He switched to friendly reception mode.

"Well, come with me Cecilia and I’ll introduce you to the others…Don’t worry. We’re all in