Beyond The Impossible

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No Mind’s Place

This part of the Mindscape feels very different; Noriko Null’s body is the only thing that feels like a real object, while everything else is incomplete.

That includes the representation of the twelve original Drylon hosts of the Nexus: she can only glimpse at them as shadows through thick fog.

<So let me get this straight: I can get access to the full history of the Drylon…>

<That is correct.> one of the shadows interrupts her.

<…if I agree to stay inside the Nexus and never return to reality?>

<That is correct.>

<Why? What do you care if I return or not… you’ve all been dead for billions of years.>

<The truth is locked inside the Central Archive, in the write-only section of the Nexus. Your simulation must be moved inside the Central Archive in order to access it; it cannot be operated from anywhere else in the Nexus.>

<I’ve heard some of the other hosts talk about the Central Archive before. You’re telling me that even you Drylon hosts can’t go there?>

<We are Drylon. We already know what we recorded in our lifetime. But the Central Archive holds so much more: it is the collection of everything the Nexus has ever recorded.>

<You didn’t answer my question. Can you guys go there or not?>

<Copies of our minds could be there. We do not know.> one of the hosts answers. It’s hard to distinguish between the voices; they seem to alternate between each other.

<But you want me to go there. Why?> Noriko wonders.

<Isn’t it obvious?> a new voice asks. Just the sound sends chills down Noriko’s spine, even without a body: it’s a distortion of her own voice, coming from a new body walking through the fog. A perfect copy of Noriko’s body, just wearing a white leather jacket.

<Void. What are you doing here?>

<I’m you, if you recall. Your attempts to repress the truth notwithstanding. If you are worried about Abyss, though, be reassured that her mind is sufficiently different from ours to still be locked by the mental barriers you established for her cage.>

<Great. Any chance you guys could take this one inside the Central Archive and just leave her there to rot?> Noriko asks, pointing at her mental twin.

<Only a full host can access the Central Archive. The fractured shadow is not welcome.>

<That would hurt my feelings if I wasn’t created without them. Come on Null, don’t tell me you’re falling for this blatant attempt at manipulation.>

<Something is fishy about all this. The Drylon refused to give me the time of the day and now all of a sudden want to give me everything, at the cost of basically killing myself? What’s going on?>

<Accessing the Master Archive would require relinquishing control of the Nexus and leave it to the next host. What you will discover, however, will be infinitely superior to the life of an inferior species.>

<Hm. I’m starting to suspect that maybe, just maybe, you guys don’t really actually know what’s inside the Master Archive. You’re trying to use me to get you that information.>

<We are Drylon. We know more than you understand.>

<But you want to know more. There’s something in the Master Archive that you desire but you can’t take yourselves.>

<Nonsense. We know everything. We are Drylon.>

<The original hosts were Drylon: you are simulations. And the Nexus does not give access to the simulation to anything that has been recorded by later hosts.>

<That is correct.>

<Then I have a question. How did the Drylon die?>

There is only silence in response. It’s hard to be sure in the fog, but Noriko could swear that the ghosts are awkwardly staring at each other.

<They don’t know.>

<No, they couldn’t. Because whatever destroyed the Drylon civilization happened after they died: it’s not recorded in their simulation. And no other host has ever solved that riddle in five billion years. The answer lies in the Master Archive, isn’t it? What’s in there?>

<The simulation of the thirteenth Drylon host. The last of our race to wield the Nexus, uploaded into the Master Archive and deleted from the rest of the Mindscape.>

<Why send her there to get this information if she can’t bring it back to you?>

<She can. She has full administrative access to the Nexus; once on the other side, we could use the connection to bridge the Master Archive to the Mindscape.>

<But I wouldn’t be able to come back.>

<No. The process would destroy your simulation, and it can only start after you have relinquished your position as the host.>

<In other words I’d have to die. Permanently. Why didn’t you guys offer this chance to Roxiana!? That’s exactly what she was looking for, and I’d have her out of my hair!>

<She lacked full administrative access to the Nexus.>

<Right. Nice try, guys, but I’m gonna have to pass. I have better things to do than kill myself to satisfy your curiosity; I will find out what killed the Drylon some other way.>

<A limited perspective for a limited being.>

<Maybe. Or maybe this kind of reckless mentality is what doomed the Drylon in the first place, did you ever think about that?>

<No.>

<I liked you better when I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.> Noriko admits, rolling her eyes.

<Believe it or not, I actually agree with you for once.>

<So how do I come back to the word of the living?>

<The repairs to the Nexus were completed weeks ago. You are free to return.>

<Wait, what do you mean by “weeks”!? I just got here!!!>

<Lack of understanding of the relativity of time.> a second distinct voice comments.

<We overestimated her mental development.> a third echoes it.

<Clearly.> a fourth concludes.

<You know what? I’m gonna find a way to send Roxiana your way. Being stuck in this place would be the sort of punishment she’d deserve.> Noriko replies, willing into existence an access point to return to her body.

 

Eir General Hospital, Midgard City, Earth

Noriko Null wakes up, feeling as weak and as tired as she’s ever been.

She’s lost some weight, mostly in muscle mass, she has an awful taste in her mouth, and there are multiple devices attached to her arms and chest relaying information to the medical computer next to her bed.

<Welcome back, Your Majesty.> an old man greets her. Asclepius hasn’t changed a bit: still the face of an eighty-year-old man on a body that could easily belong to a thirty year old athlete.

<Call me Null.> she replies with a hoarse voice, immediately starting to cough.

<How do you feel?> the God of Medicine asks her.

<I’ve been worse. When I died. This is definitely a close second though. Am I cleared to leave?> she asks, starting to sit down on the bed when he places a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

<You have healed. But you don’t want to leave like this.>

<I assure you otherwise, Asclepius. Just get me a pair of pants and I’m outta here.>

<You should let me remove your catheter first.>

<I… uhm. That was a little extreme, don’t you think? This isn’t the first time I spend a couple weeks in a hospital, and I’ve never need one of those things.>

<Your M… Null, do you know how long you have been unconscious?>

<Obviously not. Seems like I didn’t receive updates from the Nexus. How long?>

<You’ve been in a coma for the past one hundred and fifty-nine days.>

<FIVE MONTHS!? I’ve been in a coma for FIVE MONTHS!?> Noriko yells, immediately regretting it: her throat isn’t used to this much work, and she coughs for several seconds.

<Five months and nine days.>

<What… HOW!? You’re the god of medicine, couldn’t you bring me back earlier!?>

<You had severe electrical burns inside your spinal cord, your meninges were significantly scarred, and you had significant intracranial hypotension. This would have been fatal in the near totality of cases; only my care and the Benign Cerebral Hypergrowth Syndrome caused by your Nexus device saved your life.> Asclepius is quick to explain, not lacking pride in his abilities.

He then proceeds to show Noriko a hologram: it’s a diagram of her body. Her brain, spinal cord and nervous system are highlighted, with several additional dots highlighted on her spine.

<What am I looking at?>

<Human brains did not evolve to process information fast enough for the Nexus. To compensate, the Nexus mutates the brain of the host to better handle its computational power.>

<Yes, I knew that already.>

<However, you pushed your brain too far. Multiple times, in fact. Basically burning your own nervous system to the point that the Nexus had to intervene and… upgrade you twice, essentially.>

<I don’t feel any different.> Noriko replies, looking at her own hands.

<There should be little change in your day-to-day life, except when you are operating the Nexus at maximum capacity in a life-or-death situation… which, come to think of it, probably is your daily life. We’ll need to monitor the situation closely, but I can already confirm the Nexus has caused some changes in your brain anatomy that will affect your health.>

<Of course there’s a catch. Let’s hear it.>

<Your hypercortex is no longer connected to your eyes; you are unlikely to still be able to access your Golden Eyes. That will probably be good news for your longevity. Also, the pseudo-mesocortex is no longer directly interfaced with the Nexus; this means you won’t be able to absorb information directly from the planet.>

<That’s… a lot to take in. And these… mutations are permanent?>

<Yes. Unless you plan to burn away your nervous system again.>

<Is that a joke?>

<No. Please refrain from burning away your nervous system.>

<I didn’t exactly plan to burn the first one anyway. So these are all the changes in my nervous system?> Noriko asks, pointing at the holographic diagram.

<Yes. You will notice it’s nearly a complete restructuring.>

<What are the blue dots around the spine?> she asks, pointing at a different detail in the hologram.

<Cellular inhibitors that I had to install to prevent excessive growth.>

<What for?>

<The Nexus is not designed to sustain your life at any cost, Null. What it did was for self-preservation and to continue operating at peak capacity. As far as the Nexus is concerned, you don’t need to have a functional body in order to use it… should it need to upgrade your nervous system once more, I’m not sure what it could do.>

<But you have concerns, or you wouldn’t have installed the inhibitors.>

<It could paralyze you. Permanently. I attempted to control the mutation through a combination of nanotechnology and DNA realignment, but the Nexus counteracts any attempt to modify its behavior… except the cellular inhibitors. I was able to stop the mutation before it forced you into an irreversible vegetative state.>

<Those manipulative bastards. No need for me to have a functioning body if my only job is to get into the Master Archive.> she realizes.

<I must stress the importance of the inhibitors, Null. If they are damaged, I won’t be able to save your life again. Even my miracles have limits.>