Journey to Year 1,000,000,000 Ch. 15

Journey to the Year 1,000,000,000

By Gary L.M. Martin

Chapter 15

[Note: This is a Science Fiction story with some erotic scenes. It is not a story with erotic scenes in every chapter. Some chapters have incredible sex scenes, but many others have none. ]

"Are you rested?"

Taylor sat up abruptly. Pam was standing by his bed.

By his bed. How had he gotten there? Did Pam, who claimed to have no feelings, take pity on him and bring him to his bed? Why would a diagnostic tool with no empathy do that? Did she think he would get more efficient sleep that way?

He looked at her. She had a neutral expression on her face. She was still wearing the same stunning white dress she had worn on the fuck-cation. He could clearly see the shape of her breasts and areolas through it. She was so beautiful! He missed Pam so much.

"I had thought assuming this form would please you," said Pam. "But if you wish, I can assume another."

Suddenly he realized she could read his mind. Did he want Pam gone, even this two-dimensional, almost emotionless version of Pam?

No! She was his only comfort, the only distant reminder of the life he had left behind.

"Then let us begin again," said Pam.

********

They were watching Taylor, eating alone, in the cafeteria. The time seemed to have been several hours earlier. But to Taylor's surprise, Taylor, the other Taylor, actually saw him and Pam.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, looking at Taylor and Pam.

Taylor looked at Pam. "Have we actually travelled back in time several hours?"

"Yes," said Pam.

"But... I have no memory of you, or a future version of me, being here while I ate."

"That's because it hadn't happened yet. We have just changed the timeline."

"You can do that?"

"Of course."

The other Taylor's eyes narrowed. "You're from the future?"

"A few hours," said Taylor. "I wish I had something useful to tell you, but I don't. We just resumed our little discussion."

"What do you want?" the other Taylor asked.

"To understand the nature of consumption," said Pam. "You consume enormous amounts of nutrients every day to fuel your inefficient bodies."

"And you don't? You don't eat?" Taylor asked.

"No. Why would I?" Pam asked.

"Don't you run out of energy?" Taylor asked.

"Energy. Mass. It is all part of the same equation," said Pam. "Nothing is wasted. Nothing is lost. "

"What do you want to know about eating?" the other Taylor asked.

"You consume what you call food for nutrients, but in your thoughts, I perceive that is not your main purpose," said Pam. "You consume for the taste, do you not?"

"Yes," said the other Taylor. "We like food that tastes good."

"And how do you know what 'good' is?" Pam asked.

The other Taylor shrugged. "Our taste buds are programmed to like certain things. The taste of beef. Sugar. Salt."

"But these tastes are ephemeral, are they not?" Pam asked. "Your culture has all kinds of elaborate rituals surrounding the preparation and consumption of nutrients. You are focused on the taste, but when you put the nutrients in your mouth, you only taste it, as you call it, for a brief second. When it enters your digestion system, you do not continue to taste it, do you?"

"No," said the other Taylor.

"Do you select foods based on their nutritional value, or their tastes?"

"Both," said the other Taylor. And then, "But mostly, on the taste."

"So you put large quantities of substances in your body, not based on your nutritional needs, but rather because of an ephemeral sensation, an ephemeral sensation that only lasts as long as it takes for the food to go past your tongue and down your throat?"

"That's... basically correct," said the other Taylor.

Pam turned to Taylor. "I do not kockk."

"We don't always make decisions based on rational choices," said Taylor.

Pam looked at the other Taylor's tray. It was filled with chocolate ice cream. "I can see that."

"Sometimes food serves another function," said Taylor. "As a comfort, when we are under stress."

"Food gives you an emotional feeling?" Pam said.

"Sometimes, yes," said Taylor.

"Interesting," said Pam.

The other Taylor looked at Taylor. "Don't forget to ask her about-"

"I won't," said Taylor.

And then the scene shifted. They were in the bathroom. Taylor was sitting on the toilet, with his Survey Service pants around his legs.

"Oh no, not you two again. Not here. Not now," said the other Taylor.

Taylor turned to Pam. "I shouldn't be made to do this with an audience watching."

"Thank you," said the other Taylor, looking relieved.

"What just happened?" Taylor asked.

"He can no longer see us," said Pam.

Suddenly the toilet grew opaque, so they could see through it.

"Err," said the other Taylor, gritting his teeth as he bore down.

"Why are we here?" Taylor asked.

"We have studied one end of the consumption process," said Pam. "To be thorough, we must study the other."

"I wish you didn't have to be so thorough," said Taylor.

"Err!" said the other Taylor."Errr, errr, errrr! Aaaaah!" he said. Suddenly, they could see a slimy, wet, brown oval, the first of three, slide out of his bottom into the toilet. "Aaaah!" said the other Taylor, as a stream of yellow liquid suddenly came out the other end.

Taylor looked at the other Taylor's face. His jaw was dropped open, and his eyes were almost vacant, staring out into space. Was that really how he looked every time he-

"I have questions," said Pam, as they watched the process conclude.

"I'm sure you do," said Taylor.

"Collectively, your kind generates an enormous amount of this waste material," said Pam. "This is how much you generate in a day." A full toilet bowl appeared in front of them.

"This is how much in one of your weeks." Two canisters appeared in front of them, one brown, one yellow.

"This is the amount in a month."

The canisters were much larger now, almost waist high.

"And this is how much in one of your years."

Suddenly they were looking at a giant room, flooded from top to bottom with solid and liquid waste. The brown and yellow swirled around, with some of the solid matter floating on top.

"That's a lot of stuff," said Taylor, looking at it without much enthusiasm. "Are you sure that all came out of me?"

"Yes," said Pam.

Taylor turned to her. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Your species produces an inordinate amount of waste material. I have only shown you the amount produced by you in a year's time. Twelve billion of your species produces even more," said Pam. "My question is, does your species do more harm than good?"

Careful.

Taylor turned his eyes away from the giant room filled with piss and shit. His piss and shit.

"It's true our bodies produce waste," said Taylor. "And I wouldn't say it's ideal. But the existence of human beings produces far more value to the galaxy than the harm produced by their waste, which by the way breaks down quickly and is absorbed by the environment."

"You speak of things of value produced by mankind," said Pam. She looked at the floating piles of shit and piss in the other room and wrinkled her nose. "I do not kockk."

"We produce... civilization. Art, and literature, and culture, and scientific innovation," said Taylor. He saw the skeptical look on Pam's face. "And we produce enjoyment. Enjoyment of life."

"Life... for the purpose of enjoying life?" Pam asked.

"Yes."

"It sounds suspiciously like circular reasoning," said Pam, and Taylor got the feeling that she was considering terminating him on the spot.

He spoke up again quickly. "And of course, our greatest innovation was you. You are descended from humanity, are you not?"

"Distantly," said Pam, looking scornfully at him. "Very distantly."

"No matter how distant, without us, there would be no you."

"Yes, there would," said Pam.

"There would?"

"There are others in the universe who have evolved to be like Us. If there were no Us, there would still be others like Us."

"But you would not exist," said Taylor.

"And so? What is your point?" said Pam.

"Doesn't your existence hold value for you?"

Pam shrugged. "I exist. I serve a purpose. But if I did not exist, what would it matter?"

"It matters a great deal," said Taylor. "We have learned that life, all sentient life, is precious."

Pam looked at him and frowned. "I do not kockk. I must expra."

"You do that," said Taylor.

**********

"Have you completed your analysis of the finiteral yet?" 49 asked.

Pam was reporting back to Us. She had temporarily rejoined the group but had not formally reintegrated into it; she was connected but not submerged. She was communicating with other members who were also connected but not fully submerged. There were various states of consciousness and individualism within Us; when a member was fully submerged, the member had no feelings or thoughts of their own. They were fully part of the group.

There were currently 1024 members of Us. They had no names that could be expressed in English, a spoken language more than a million years old. They had ways to identify each other, but their identification were conceptual in nature, and could not be expressed in words.

Instead, an outsider might view them, for identification purposes, by the order in which they were created or joined Us. The entity which was 49th to join Us had posed the question; Pam herself was the 1018th member to join the group, by an act of creation.

"I am almost finished," said Pam. Pam didn't look like Pam any longer. She was simply a bulging mass of matter, floating in another dimension, a dimension where all was white around them. Neither did Pam actually speak, or communicate in any conventional way; and yet she was wholly and instantly understood by Us.

"It is a waste of time," said 1012. 1012 had been created shortly before Pam. His function was to be an expediter, to encourage others to reach decisions. He and Pam had worked closely together in the past, she in analyzing situations, and 1012 in encouraging her to reach solutions. We found that they worked exceptionally well together. He spoke to her now. "You always have a fascination for finiterals. Remember the species shaped like round parasites? You spent fourteen and a half microcycles analyzing them, when half of one would have sufficed. Why waste time on a limited species which will not exist anyway in any number of cycles?"

"It is precisely because these species are limited that I spend time on them," said Pam. "If they are not examined now, there may never be another opportunity. This species itself is from a billion years in our past. Think of the tremendous learning opportunity."

"And what can you possibly learn from finiterals?" 49 asked.

"They have the most unusual motivations. They have a most unusual web of emotions and relationships," said Pam. "They have feelings, but not as we do. Theirs are much more intense and complicated."

"Complicated? I doubt it. More like irrational," said 49.

"Let 1018 proceed," said 37.

"You always defend 1018, 37," said 24. "You were instrumental in creating 1018. That colors your thinking. 1018 was created as a research and diagnostic tool for the further development of the cosmos, not for the study of these insignificant beings. Time is being consumed."

"What is time, when we have so much of it?" said 37. "Let 1018 proceed, for a time."

"Very well," said 49. "1018, you may proceed. But while the universe is infinite, our patience is not. You have important work to return to."

********

In their next session, Pam told Taylor, "Let us discuss the nature of your existence."

Suddenly, they were in Perth, watching a young Michael Taylor receive his commission "with all the rights and responsibilities as an Ensign in the United Survey Service." The audience clapped wildly.

"You think much of this Survey Service. It is a significant part of your existence," said Pam.

"It is," said Taylor.

"How does it define you?"

"The Survey Service... it's many things," said Taylor. "It's an exploration service. It's in our very name, to survey new planets. We also have a scientific branch which helps us in discover new phenomena. But our primary function is to protect. To protect the people of the planet Earth, and its associated colonies."

"There is a memory. One you often think of, time and time again," said Pam,

Taylor was bleeding from a number of cuts; his face and chest were bloody.

He watched as a squad of Survey Service marines advanced on their position. They were guarding three people who strode purposefully, confidently, wearing full dress Survey Service uniforms. The woman in the center had captain's shoulder bars and cuffs. She stood erect, her back square, her eyes gleaming, her pace strong and unrelenting.

The Captain strode forward, flanked by two officers, who were both brandishing blasters.

The woman looked at them silently for a moment, not sure who to address. "My name is Captain Margaery Chung of the United Survey Service Ship Caledonia," she said finally. "I'm looking for survivors of a ship that crashed just a few miles from here. Has anyone seen them?"

She looked around. The locals were in awe; of her, of her pressed uniform with its bold colors, of her guards, of her ship. It was like the day they had arrived all over again.

"Do any of you understand me?" she asked.

Taylor cleared his throat. Her attention immediately focused on him.

"My name..." he began, but then he lost his voice, because his throat was so raw. He tried again. "My name is Michael Taylor. Lieutenant Michael Taylor. Acting Captain of the USS Asgard." And his voice began to choke up as he said, "I'm the last surviving officer." And he raised a bloody arm and saluted.

"You think of this moment often. It gives you pleasure. Why is that?" Pam asked.

"For several reasons," said Taylor. "Our ship... we had been forced to make a landing on a planet filled with less developed people. We were far off the trade lanes. We thought we would be stranded there for life. And then when Captain Margaery Chung of the USS Caledonia came into view, wearing her finest dress uniform, surrounded by Survey Service marines, she just looked so...." his voice trailed off.

"So what?" Pam asked.

"She... she evoked strong emotions in me," said Taylor.

"Captain Margaery Chung?"

"Not just her. The uniform."

"The uniform?"

"It is the prime symbol of the Survey Service. Don't you see? If it were any other organization, we would be declared lost and given up on. But the Survey Service never gives up on its own. They kept searching for us, until they found us. I felt a great deal of pride that day, when the Survey Service showed up to save us. It gave my life meaning, to know that I was part of such a capable organization."

Pam stared at him for a long moment, and Taylor worried that she may not have fully understood. And then she said, "I kockk. But that is not the only significance of that moment to you, is it?" Those green eyes bored into him.

Taylor paused. "No, it isn't." He wet his lips. "I risked my life to save a woman I cared for. I risked my life to save my passengers, and thousands of other people on that planet. And I was successful. When I saw Captain Margaery Chung, I wasn't just proud of the Survey Service, I was proud of me. Because I knew I had saved the lives of nearly all my passengers, which was my highest obligation as a Survey Service officer." And he lifted his head and squared his shoulders and looked at her. "In the Survey Service, we are supposed to be the best of the best."

Pam looked at him slowly. "Is it important to you, to be the best of the best?"

"It is important that I try," said Taylor. "It is part of my core identity."

And then... Pam smiled! She actually smiled at him. "I kockk," she said, grinning as she nodded her head.

********

"We have one more subject to explore," said Pam.

One more subject. That meant that their discussions were almost at an end. That meant she was going to kill him soon.

Pam gave him a small smile. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't Pam. When she was done with him, she would wink him out of existence calmly and efficiently, without a second thought.

"And what would that be?" said Taylor, taking a deep breath.

"You also spend much of your existence thinking about this."

And suddenly Taylor was watching himself, making love to Pam. She was moaning with pleasure as he pumped in and out of her precious love hole.

"Reproduction," said Pam emotionlessly.

"No, not reproduction," said Taylor. "Pam took... precautious."

"Sex, then," said Pam, watching her other self smile as she wrapped her arms around Taylor.

"Take me, Michael, take me hard," she said, her eyes shining.

"More than just sex," said Taylor. "Love. Affection. Things you wouldn't understand."

Pam watched the other Taylor thrust between the other Pam's legs. She studied the scene for a moment.

"The face," she said suddenly. "She is smiling and looking content. Is that it?"

"No," said Taylor. "It is a feeling, inside."

"I... I love you," said the other Taylor, thrusting into the other Pam.

"I love you too," said the other Pam, kissing him fiercely. They embraced, and then they both cried out, and lay still.

"Does love serve the purpose of facilitating reproduction?" Pam asked idly, as she watched the other Pam's legs wrap around Taylor's as she enjoyed her orgasmic afterglow.

"I suppose in a sense it does," said Taylor. "But it means more. Much more."

"You think about it much."

"It is a purpose for being. I love her very much."

Pam frowned, studying the scene for a moment longer. Then the other Taylor and Pam disappeared entirely.

"Show me," she said.

"What?" said Taylor.

"Copulate with me. Copulate with me, and express your love," said Pam.

"I can't just do that," said Taylor.

"Why not?" said Pam. She went up to Taylor, and pressed her lips against his. They felt cold and unyielding. "Does that change your mind?"

"No," said Taylor. He looked at her pityingly. "You can't do it. You're not really a woman. You're just a diagnostic tool in the shape of a woman. You can never understand what love is, because you're not a woman."

Pam nodded and considered for a moment. Then she looked up. "Then I believe my research is done."

Done.

"Wait," said Taylor, remembering the question Taylor, the earlier version of Taylor they had encountered in their lesson on eating, had reminded him to ask. "Before you destroy me, will you answer a question?"

"Yes," said Pam.

"The Black Box, the time tunnel. After I left Earth, in my time, does it do any further harm to the Earth?"

"Let me expra," said Pam. She got a faraway look in her eyes for a long moment. A minute passed, and then two and three and four. And the Pam looked forward again. "No."

"No?"

"The shockwaves that concerned you ceased after your ship entered what you call the Black Box. Within a matter of weeks, the time tunnel had folded in on itself and disappeared."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Pam.

Taylor heaved a sigh of relief. His mission was truly accomplished. But one other thought struck him. "If the time tunnel was generated in the year 500,000, why did it extend all the way to the year 1,000,000?"