"Exactly what-excuse me for interrupting again," I said, "but…uh-"
"Quite all right," Prime said. "Please go on."
I had availed myself of the same bottle of brandy that Yuri had found among the half-dozen containers of spirits on the table. It was a quality product, and although I couldn't identify it, it wasn't especially exotic. Just good booze. I took a slurp from my snifter and said, "Exactly what are we supposed to be doing here? We've hauled from one end of the galaxy to the other, left Terran Maze far behind, and come to road's end. What next?"
Prime settled back in his chair, wineglass in hand, elbow balanced languidly on the armrest. He crossed his legs, and the act struck me as so humanly natural that it allayed my fears just a little.
"Doubtless this isn't the first time the question has occurred to you. In fact, you've probably been dying to ask it. And I will answer it, in time. This is but one of many opportunities we will have to sit together and talk. We have a great deal to talk about, believe me, and we won't cover it all in one session. What I want to do today is to sketch broad outlines for you. Provide a sweeping perspective. But I also want to
PARADOX ALLEY
39
give you some kind of preliminary answer to that overriding question. You are here because we want you to participate in an undertaking which very possibly may be the greatest, most momentous, most significant ever attempted… quite literally… in the history of the universe."
I said, "Yeah, but do you give green stamps?"
The overwhelming silence of the place hit me then. I cocked my ears. Nothing stirring. This place was dead, dead and old.
Prime laughed. "'Mat was a marvelously witty and very irreverent comment. I quite enjoyed it."
"Jake, really, " Susan admonished in a whisper.
"No, I did," Prime said, apparently having overheard. "And you might be surprised to know that I understood the reference."
I said, "You did? Explain it to me, then. Sam uses the expression all the time. I never understood it. In fact, Sam told me he didn't quite get it either. Picked it up from his dad."
"Sam is… your father?"
"Was. The on-board computer that runs my truck is programmed with some of his personality elements. I call him Sam, too."
"I see." Prime brought two fingers up to caress his cheek, and mused, "That might be a possible problem…."
"What might be?" I asked after a brief interval during which Prime had given the matter some thought.
"I beg your pardon? Oh, nothing. Artificial Intelligences are beings, you know. Depending, of course, on how advanced they are. There is a certain threshold of self awareness…… He trailed off again, then came back. "Excuse me. We seem to have gotten sidetracked."
"I suppose," Liam said, "the next obvious thing is to inquire as to the nature of this undertaking."
"That's what will take time to explain," Prime said. "I can only say that the concept, once you understand it, will thrill you-perhaps frighten you-to an extent to which you have never been thrilled or frightened before." He looked around. "Yes. If and when you come to understand what it is, you very well may want no part of it."
"Will we have a choice?" I asked.
"Yes. Most assuredly."
"And if we choose not to participate, will we be free to leave?"
"Absolutely. You are free to go at this moment, if that is what you wish."
"Fine," I said. "But we have a problem. Where the hell are we? And how do we get back to where we belong?"
"You will be guided back to your point and time of origin='
A look of shocked, fragile elation sprang to everybody's face.
Prime looked around and laughed. "I see that meets with your approval."
Susan gazed at him in unbelieving wonder, her mouth hanging open.
She swallowed and said, "You'd take us back? All the way back? I mean to where we live? Where we belong? We're lost, completely and totally, and if you mean only that-"
"I thought as much. Yes, back to wherever you want to go. That is no particular problem."
I thought Susan would faint. Instead she began sobbing quietly. I put my arm around her.
"Is she upset?" Prime asked.
"It's a long story," I said.
"I understand. What I was going to add was, as to the location of this place-this world-construct-I can only say that describing exactly where we are would be problematical with regard to finding some conventional frame of reference."
"When are we?" Yuri asked.
"Well, at this point, we are outside of time altogether. We are moving, though, with respect to the frame of reference of the universe at large."
"What is our velocity?"
"I'm afraid the notion of velocity here doesn't really apply."
"But, as you said, if we're moving with respect to the frame of reference of the universe-"
"I'm sorry. That phrase was an oversimplification."
"Are we moving faster than light?"
Prime frowned, then gave a short ironic laugh. "I don't seem to be much help. Do I? Forgive me. There seems to be a problem in expressing in concise terms some of things I want to relate. I do have things to do here and about, and I must leave you before long, so it's not really a problem in communication, but one of time. You will come to understand it eventually, I think, but we'd best delay any involved explanations for now. Let us merely say that this world is outside of space, outside of time, but is on a journey of some duration nevertheless."
"Another aspect of the time element interests me," Sean said. "Namely the perspective from which you're speaking. Your point of origin is obviously some time in our future. Correct?"
"Yes."
"Our remote future, I take it."
"Very remote. Some ten billion years."
I took a long swig of my brandy, then slowly reached for the bottle.
"You all look stunned," Prime said.
"I wouldn't say it's impossible," Yuri said quietly. "But I must say I can't believe it."
Roland, who had been listening impassively all the while, shook his head. "You simply don't look, act, or speak like a… like a man from ten billion years in the future. In fact, the very notion of the existence of human beings at that point-"
"But I'm not human," Prince said, "except in very small part. I will repeat, though, what I said to you earlier. It is a very active and vibrant part of what I am. Now. Here. When I am speaking with you. Otherwise, I would not be able to communicate with you at all."
I finished off another two or three fingers of brandy and set the snifter down. "Which brings us to another question. Just what are you? What is the Culmination?"
Prime drained his glass and sat forward. "Again we run into the problem of trying to do too much at one sitting-and again I will try to convey some general ideas. Let's begin by stating what the Culmination isn't. We are not a race, but are composed of many races. We are not a culture, but are beyond culture. We exist outside the stream of universal events-we stand, so to speak, on the shores of the river of time, looking out across the waters. Yet in another sense, we are at the mouth of that river as it spills into the sea of eternity. What we are is this: we are that toward which the consciousness of the universe has been tending."
The rock-walled silence fell again, but this time I thought I could hear faint stirrings beyond the dark archways. My imagination, probably. But I believe in ghosts Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I had no idea what day of the week it was.,
"Forgive the metaphors," Prime went on, "but they are sometimes useful. What we are speaking of here is the evolution and final culmination of consciousness in the universe. Think of each sapient race in the universe as a tributary to that great river of awareness, feeding into it, flowing on toward some distant ocean of fulfillment. To pose the ultimate questions… then, if possible, to answer them. We seek the ultimate limit of knowledge.. We seek the consummation of being."