Observer Base

Late in the Buld Reality.
Sedronite, (image credits)
Original cover art by Edmund Emshwiller

Of course I made the tryp'At. You were needed. I am your creator, your goddess. -R. Gohrlay

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Sachiz felt the usual disorientation that was to be expected from teleportation. She had been at home in her own bed, thinking about her plans for the new day, but now she was suddenly once again in Grean's workshop. The light level in the room was slowly rising, allowing Sachiz to recognize her new location. For a moment she allowed herself to wonder if this was Grean's bedroom. The small room had an antiseptic neatness, like a medical examination room.

Sachiz rolled off the bed, got to her feet and walked towards the door, which was already open a crack. This was the fifth time that Sachiz had been brought here to chat with Grean. Sachiz pulled the door fully open and blinked, gazing out into the harshly lit main chamber of the workshop.

A flutter of amusement drifted through her mind as she once again briefly wondered why the doors of Grean's workshop were set on hinges. Since leaving Earth 25 years previously, Sachiz had grown accustomed to the futuristic conditions at Observer Base such as the sliding doors and LED lighting. Was there an important message hidden in the relatively primitive conditions of the workshop? She glanced up at the high ceiling and what appeared to be incandescent bulbs set in globular glass fixtures.

For a dozen seconds Sachiz gazed upon the sparkling sets of mysterious devices that were arrayed across the floor of the large room. She was reminded of the assembly line in a tank factory that she had once visited in a suburb of Warsaw. Off to one side, there was Grean, pacing and looking a bit nervous.

Grean glanced at Sachiz and felt some guilt for having once again rudely yanked the poor tryp'At out of her peaceful existence at Observer Base. Alarmed by the look of hostility on Sachiz's face, Grean wondered if maybe it was a mistake to speak to Sachiz here in this place. But no; Sachiz was clearly impressed by the collection of mysterious devices that sprawled across workshop and that was good. Grean stopped her pacing and spoke brightly, "Welcome back, my friend."

Sachiz complained, "If you really were my friend then you give me some warning before bringing me here." She held out her arms. "I would have dressed for the occasion." Sachiz felt slightly ridiculous in her pajamas. She'd been promised that during this meeting with Grean important matters would be discussed. However, Grean was casually dressed in a jumpsuit that was composed of some shiny artificial fabric and seemed little different from pajamas.

Grean giggled, revealing her sharp canine teeth. "Please pardon my penchant for informal affairs, Sachiz." Grean seemed embarrassed and spoke shyly. "I confess that there is a fundamental inequality in our friendship. I want to help you prepare for the future, a future that I have seen. I feel like we are friends because of what I know will happen in the future. Since you don't know the future, I can't expect you to trust me, so I understand: how can you feel that I am your friend when there is no trust?" Grean's forehead was wrinkled and she seemed concerned for the plight of Sachiz: being subjected to sudden teleportation events and the resulting disorientation.

Now Grean took a few steps towards Sachiz and frowned. "I expected you to no longer be feeling any confusion when I teleport you." Grean shrugged as if the matter was not important and she reached out a hand and felt the sleeve of Sachiz's pajamas. "Believe me, I don't care how you are dressed."

Sachiz, as a tryp'At, knew the general outline of events that would occur in the future, but it was best if Grean knew nothing about tryp'At access to such sensitive information. In particular, Sachiz had been warned that she would meet a very important replicoid just before Grean gave up her control of Observer Base. But Sachiz tried to keep such secret topics out of her thoughts. If Grean wanted to prattle about trivia, fine. "My reaction to the teleportation was not too bad this time. I only had a brief sensation of falling when I arrived in your bed."

Grean shook her head and glanced over Sachiz's shoulder. "That's not my bed in the teleportation chamber."

"Ah." Sachiz made the mistake of staring deeply into Grean's enormous eyes for a few seconds. She felt as if someone were walking through her mind and with some difficulty she looked away, fixing her gaze on the strange hulking device that shimmered behind Grean, almost glowing in the bright light of the workshop. "I suppose you don't sleep. I keep imagining that you are human even while I know that you are some alien invader, lording your advanced technology over the people of Earth."

Grean, following the eyes of Sachiz, glanced over her own shoulder at the time portal. Grean turned and walked towards the device, quickly ran one hand over the sparkling smooth surface of the paramagnetic guardrail, then leaned her hip against the time machine and half turned back towards Sachiz. "In many ways I am human, but as a Kac'hin, I have been designed to have some alien features. Because I have been judged to be too alien, soon I will no longer be allowed to have contact with Earthlings. When that time comes, I hope that you will take over stewardship of this Base." Grean spread her arms wide and gestured to the entirety of their surroundings.

Sachiz did not trust anything that Grean said. However, Sachiz had long ago been told that she would eventually take her place as a member of a tryp'at Council and that her title would be Overseer. Sachiz had waited patiently through the decades, and now that promised future was rapidly approaching. "If you truly expect me to replace you, then why not show me how to control your teleportation device and all of the equipment in this room?"

Grean replied, "I could show you many things, a dozen secrets of Observer Base, none of which would be useful to you. The equipment in this room was not designed for use by the tryp'At; I've carefully established that fact! But here, let me show you something that will be of value to you." The image of a woman appeared in the air. "All of the fancy sets of equipment in this room, including the teleportation system, were developed by Gohrlay."

Sachiz was puzzled by how Grean said the name "Gohrlay", as if it were goo-lee. Among the tryp'At, the name was pronounced gor-lay, on those rare occasions when anyone dared speak it. Grean always spoke impeccable English, but beneath the precise enunciation of her words was an odd accent that seemed unique. Sachiz had a good ear, but she was unable to associate Grean's linguistic quirks with any specific place or population. Of course, that was exactly what might be expected from an alien invader.

Grean gestured towards the projected image of Gohrlay. "Sadly, I have not discovered how to give you the ability to activate and use the teleporter. As far as I can tell, you should be able to teleport yourself to Earth, but there is something in the control circuits that continues to block you out." Grean smiled delicately and shrugged. "Oh well, maybe it is simply my continued presence here at Observer Base that is causing that block."

Sachiz gazed intently at the image of Gohrlay, who appeared to be a fairly average human woman. Through the years, a legend about Ghorlay and her mysterious workshop had spread among the tryp'At, but no facts were known about Gohrlay's life and the tryp'At had no photographic records of Gohrlay's physical appearance. Sachiz asked, "So this is properly called 'Gohrlay's workshop', not 'Grean's workshop'?"

Grean nodded. "Yes, exactly. I previously called this my workshop because I have grown quite comfortably thinking of it as mine. However, I took it away from Gohrlay. By force." The floating image of Gohrlay faded away.

Sachiz wondered why Grean had bothered showing her the image of Gohrlay. It occurred to Sachiz  that Grean could have used the image of any random human and falsely claimed it was Gohrlay. Among the tryp'At, rumor and myth suggested that Gohrlay was superhuman: some sort of artificial life form with human appearance and god-like powers. Sachiz wondered: just what had happened to Gohrlay when Grean took possession of the workshop. Was Gohrlay dead? Was Gohrlay a mortal or a goddess?

Sachiz wanted to continue exploring the puzzle of why it was that Grean could use Gohrlay's equipment while she could not, but Grean turned the topic of discussion in another direction. Grean said, "I may be able to offer an explanation. So, let me introduce you to another friend of mine: Nivsaham. I hope that you and Nivsaham can learn to cooperate and work together."

After her previous conversations with Grean, Sachiz had developed the theory that Grean had telepathic abilities and could read her thoughts. She began to ask Grean about telepathy, but before she could speak again, a new voice was heard.

Sachiz heard the new voice, seemingly coming from someplace nearby, "Hello, Sachiz."

Sachiz looked around, but could not see Nivsaham. Grean explained, "Don't even try to see Nivsaham. She is nanoscopically small, but she is here with us in this room."

Sachiz considered herself to be fully rational and devoted to science, but an odd thought came to her. She asked, "A ghost?"

Nivsaham laughed. "I supposed interactions between humans and replicoids might have contributed to Earthly myths about ghosts, but I'm not a supernatural entity. I'm simply composed of hierions, so I'm very small. Far too small for you to see me."

Sachiz knew about replicoids, but she began to ask, shouldn't you stay in the hierion domain?  Grean raised her hand and spoke first, "Yes, yes, a hundred questions. But I don't have time to explain everything today. I brought you both here in order to warn you that I will soon be ending my mission here at this Base. I consider the two of you to be the most suitable representatives of the two factions that will try to fill the political vacuum created by my departure. As such, I need to demonstrate to you both that time travel is ending. You must both be fully convinced of that!"

Nivsaham complained. "You can't expect me to trust anything that you tell me."

Late in the Buld Reality.
Original cover art by Howard V. Brown

Grean laughed. "I'm quite aware that neither of you trust me. However, you are both comfortable thinking of this as Observer Base and what I offer you both is an opportunity to observe. It will be up to you to decide for yourselves how best to utilize the information that you obtain by your observations."

Grean carefully adjusted a set of dials on the control panel of the time machine. "Now, in a few minutes I will depart; I have a small task to complete in the past. After I leave, I'll go two years into the downwhen and send a newly constructed replicoid back here, to this point in time. The replicoid's name is Azynov. Azynov has an important role to play as a time traveler. He will alter the timeline of Earth and his manipulation of events in time might well be the final use of time travel... ever. I want you two to serve as witnesses."

Grean had wandered over near another complex piece of equipment and stepped up on a little platform, allowing her to reach what looked like a data entry keypad. She flipped a switch on the side of the keypad and a projected image of a man glowed above her, seeming to float in a glass bubble. "That's Azynov, back in our past, in the year 1971. Keep watching." She entered a code into the temporal targeting system using the keypad, glanced up at the image of Azynov and then vanished.

Nivsaham muttered, "She's such a show-off."

Sachiz asked, "Who are you?"

Nivsaham replied, "I'd prefer that you not know anything about me. I'm upset that Grean even brought the two of us together."

Sachiz made a sort of growling noise. "Judging from your evasiveness, I suspect you must be an Interventionist."

Nivsaham said bitterly, "It takes one to know one."

Sachiz walked a loop around the set of equipment above which the image of Azynov floated. "What happens now?"

Nivsaham said nothing.

Sachiz wished that she knew more about replicoids. The legend was that all the original replicoids existed only in the Hierion Domain, composed of hierion particles that had similarities to atoms but which had much smaller bond lengths than those in hadronic matter. However, those legends were confounded by the fact that all known replicoids were human-sized. Were there multiple types of replicoids? Sachiz had only ever contacted her own replicoid by a kind of telepathic linkage of their minds.

And what good was it to say that a replicoid was made of hierions, anyhow? As far as the tryp'At were concerned, 'hierion' was almost as meaningless as 'pixie dust'.

After a minute of silence, Sachiz asked, "Nivsaham, are you still here?"

"Of course I'm here. I'm busy trying to probe this equipment. Funny, but I think it is all fake."

"Fake? What do you mean?" Sachiz gently touched a few of the switches and dials on the control panel that Grean had seemingly been using to operate the time travel device. She did not dare to alter any of the control settings.

"Props. All this equipment is just for show." Nivsaham spoke with disdain, "I suppose this is what an Earthling like you imagines a time travel machine should look like."

Sachiz had read a story about time travel that her husband published back in the 50s. Now that she thought about it, the equipment in the workshop reminded her of how Ayash had described the time travel device that was used in his story. "Can Grean read my mind?"

Nivsaham replied, "I don't know, but it would not surprise me if Grean has super-human abilities, or, more likely, access to alien technology that gives her the appearance of telepathic powers."

Sachiz crossed her arms. The image of Azynov had not changed in any way. "How long do we wait?"

Nivsaham said, "Grean brought me here to see something. I'll wait as long as it takes."

Sachiz covered her ears with her hands. "You are not actually speaking to me, are you?"

 Nivsaham said mockingly, "Brilliant deduction."

There was no alteration in the "sound" of Nivsaham's voice when Sachiz covered her ears or turned her head. Sachiz took her hands away from her head. "I don't like the idea that you can drop your words directly into my mind."

"It is not direct. You tryp'At were designed to use the Bimanaoid Interface, so I can communicate with you in the same way as your personal replicoid."

"But that's different. When my replicoid communicates with me, that's just me. A part of me. I don't care if my replicoid has access to my thoughts. It makes me sick to know that you are inside my mind."

"Ew, that's a disgusting concept. Don't freak out, Sachiz. I don't have access to your thoughts." Even though this was not normal spoken communication, revulsion somehow tinged Nivsaham's words. "I wouldn't want to."

After a long stretch of silence, Sachiz said, "Nivsaham, what do you think Grean meant when she talked about you and I working together?

Nivsaham replied, "Well, we both want to help the people of Earth, even if we don't agree on how best to provide help."

Sachiz told Nivsaham, "Yes. For example, right now we tryp'At are alarmed by what is happening on Earth. Someone is feeding sensitive information to an Earthling; restricted information about alien visitors to Earth."

Nivsaham asked innocently, "Oh, really?"

Sachiz could sense that Nivsaham did not want to discuss this topic. "Yes, really. It is a clear violation of the Rules of Intervention."

Nivsaham suggested, "Maybe you should return to Earth and keep an eye on the situation."

Sachiz sighed. "It is frustrating to be trapped here, with teleportation equipment at hand that could easily be used to send tryp'At agents to Earth. We could quickly correct this kind of problem on Earth if we could control the available teleportation devices."

Nivsaham expressed her own frustration, "Sadly, Philip Dick seems to be a useless conduit for information transfer to the people of Earth."

Sachiz spoke accusingly, "So, you are involved with Philip and his publication of stories about aliens..."

 Nivsaham replied, "I'm aware of the situation. His fellow Earthlings all think that Philip is a crazy UFO nut suffering from brain dysfunction. Nobody on Earth takes seriously the idea that he has actually been in contact with space aliens."

Grean and the time kettle

Just then the projected view of Azynov came alive and expanded to include Grean and, off to one side, a sparkling metallic device. 

Sachiz and Nivsaham heard Grean ask, "Pretty, isn't it?"

Azynov nodded. "This is a time kettle?" As he watched, the white metal surface of the kettle seemed to bulge, and a ghastly red wound formed in its side.


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A Search Beyond is copyright John Schmidt, but the text of the story is  licensed for sharing under the Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike (CC BY-NC-SA) license.