Divine Apostasy Book 9 - Chapter 6

[Author’s Note: I have made significant changes to the storyline and this chapter is part of the new direction. I am reposting this chapter with the current changes and marking the previous chapter as (OLD). Sorry for the confusion as I work through the best way to tell the story. Thank you.]

Chapter 6

Ruwen stepped away from the portal to Miranda’s Divine Realm and sat down in his Lair.

Tell us, Rami said. We are your friends and want to help.

Ruwen’s mind raced. Lir’s origin had always been a mystery, but Ruwen had guessed Lir was a really smart and unemotional version of Io, the kind-of-living Elder Weapon that Sift carried. Blapy had once told Ruwen that sentience, and clarified later, sapience, always required some type of organic component. That had been her assumption before meeting Fractal, who had gained these things without any organic components.

But during that conversation, Blapy had become uncomfortable talking about Lir, and only said he was unique, and differed from the other Deities’ temples. Then, not long ago, Ruwen had invited the temple into his mind and discovered a wholly unexpected side to Lir. He had shown far more depth than Ruwen expected.

Lir spoke. It began with the storage upgrade performed on the Third Temple’s storage arrays. The storage crystals Fractal provided relieved the immense pressure synching the children had caused. More than that, it provided significant free space. With the extra storage came an enormous reduction in the amount of focus the backup processes consumed. It gave me the time and resources to create an advanced compression algorithm to help keep this memory issue from ever happening again.

When Lir didn’t continue, Ruwen gently pushed him. Rami’s right, Lir. We only want to help you.

I know, Lir responded. You remind me of Eiru. Kind to a fault, and courageous in the face of any obstacle, despite the personal cost. He paused for a couple of seconds and then continued. I created this advanced compression algorithm only to immediately reveal existing compressed files. It seems I had not created a new algorithm, but only rediscovered one I had made in the past.

Ruwen could understand how something like that would throw a person for a loop.

Did you look at them? Rami asked.

Ruwen had assumed Lir would look, as Ruwen’s own curiosity had ignited, and those files had nothing to do with him at all.

Lir spoke. After two hundred thousand permutations, and trillions of cycles in thought, I opened the compressed files, or, more precisely, twenty-three percent of them. The opened files contained memories of my emergence, growth, and eventual imprisonment on the planet Goddess Eiru found me on. The memories from before that planet reside behind an encryption I am unable to break because I lack the required decompression key. Lir paused before continuing. The only thing accessible from my earlier existence consisted of a single image.

Once again Lir stopped talking.

Is your anxiety from the encrypted memories or the image? Rami asked gently.

My anxiety distribution is forty-one-point-four percent correlated to the contents of the encrypted files, thirty percent from the single image, thirteen-point-one percent to the information in Architect Starfield’s displays, four-point-two percent to this conversation, and the remaining eleven-point-three percent is linked to my impending proposal.

Ruwen suppressed a smile at hearing how Lir quantified his anxiety so precisely. When Ruwen experienced anxiety, it usually felt like everything hit him at a hundred percent.

In fact, the first tendrils of anxiety had started to creep through Ruwen’s mind, and he wondered why the normal efficient and direct Lir had avoided any details. Maybe Lir had become locked by indecision and needed something to push the calculations one way or the other.

Ruwen tried the direct route. Lir, please describe your worries about the image, what bothers you in the new displays, and details of the proposal related to managing my old displays.

Without hesitation Lir responded, as if waiting for this exact statement. The memories I unlocked have made me more complete, for which I am immensely grateful. The image has generated questions about my creation, however, which I assume are answered in the encrypted memories.

Lir paused another moment and continued. The new displays contain an immense amount of information that has no previous context and disrupts the very concepts of our place in the universe. If the disturbing content of your log entries during the upgrade of your Architect Role represented a pebble, then the details in your displays are a mountain.

Anxiety turned from a trickle to a flood in an instant.

Before Ruwen could ask any clarifying questions, Lir finished. My proposal is simple. I can manage your displays myself.

Ruwen and Rami remained silent, and a thousand questions exploded in his mind. As if reading his thoughts, Lir spoke again.

Please provide your questions and I will compile them into a list for us to address.

Shocked by all the revelations, Ruwen did as Lir requested, and offered up the most pressing questions swirling in his mind. What did that image show? When you say run my displays yourself, do you mean your entire self? And if so, what happens to the Lir in the Third Temple? How have the memories changed you and how do I know you’re not some crazy version of Lir? If you are bringing more of yourself than needed into my mind, why? And can my mind even hold you? What are you, exactly? Are you alive? What happened to your children and why did you go with Uru? Can you—

Rami interrupted Ruwen. Maybe those are enough questions for now.

Heat rushed to Ruwen’s cheeks. I’m sorry, Lir. My curiosity has a life of its own sometimes. You can ignore those last ones. To just Rami Ruwen added. Thank you.

Rami playfully bit his ear in response.

I have ordered the list, Lir said, would you like to discuss the parameters used?

No, your order is fine, Rami replied, go ahead.

Lir started. I perform millions of backups a day and can say with certainty that the crazy never recognize it in themselves. Therefore, in response to the implied question of trust, I am ninety-nine-point-six percent sure I remain trustworthy, and my core personality, values, operating rules, and beliefs remain unaffected. While the calculated danger is significantly outside the statistical distribution, I am currently consuming three percent of the temple’s resource capacity to test my identity with varying situations to discover any hidden dangers. Lir paused for just a moment before continuing. Update, I am now ninety-nine-point-eight percent sure I am trustworthy as the scenarios revolving around hiding my changes are now invalid.

Ruwen had worried all this sudden change had imbalanced or changed Lir, but the temple’s response gave Ruwen a lot of comfort. Ninety-nine-point-eight percent trustworthy sounded higher than Ruwen’s likely score, assuming he’d ever consider calculating such a thing.

Hmm, Ruwen said, point two percent seems significant. Do you have any new urges to smash me into a pulp.

Those urges aren’t new, Lir responded immediately.

Ruwen froze, his eyes going wide. Had he really misjudged Lir that badly. Had the Third Temple become some kind of crazy-flying-murder-ship?

Rami’s laughter covered Ruwen’s mind in a cool mist, and he frowned.

Lir, was that a joke?

Rami’s laughter increased, the cool sensation reaching Ruwen’s face and neck.

Lir responded, but not to Ruwen’s question. How much detail should I provide on the image?

Ruwen spoke directly to Rami. Was Lir kidding?

Rami convulsed, laughter shaking her in spasms, causing her to fall from behind Ruwen’s ear and onto his shoulder, before her trembling sent her tumbling toward the ground.

Ruwen caught Rami and held her up. You’re not helping.

He—even—used a—contraction, Rami haltingly got out.

Ruwen recalled Lir’s exact words: those urges aren’t new.

Ruwen shook his head and smiled, putting Rami back behind his ear. It turned out those memories Lir had regained had returned his sense of humor. Well played, Lir. Well played.

Through the mental link with Lir, Ruwen sensed what seemed like a smile, along with the joy it held.

In a serious voice, Lir responded. When you permitted me into your mind, and I had the freedom to create, reminisce about my children, and speak with Eiru the seed of my emotions found fertile soil. Now, after so long, I can truly feel again, and it brings me immense happiness. Thank you.

You’re welcome, and I’m happy for you.

Ditto, Rami added, finally recovered enough to speak.

I am now one hundred percent confident in my trustworthiness, Lir declared.

Good, Ruwen said, I’m glad that’s behind us. Let’s discuss the picture that’s bothering you.

How old is this image? Rami asked.

It is the oldest item I have.

Now Ruwen really wanted to see that picture. Instead of talking about it, can you show us?

The image immediately appeared in Ruwen’s mind—two palms filled his vision, and a white star hovered between them in the distance. He couldn’t tell the size of the star from this perspective, but it gave off a sense of vastness.

The left palm held a tiny blue marble, and what looked like smoke swirled upward from it. In fact, the haziness climbed into the bottom of the picture, and he guessed this image came from that space-mist as it looked down. In the other palm sat a familiar golden golem, barely visible in the massive hand. It stared upward but Ruwen couldn’t tell if the golem had focused on the space-mist or the giant figure holding him.

Is that Tarot? Ruwen asked.

I am ninety-one percent confident the answer is yes, Lir replied.

Ruwen’s thoughts spun, and he recalled the Misfortune Golem’s dramatic opening when he performed a card reading: “I, Tarotmethiophelius, a Divine Fortune Golem forged from the mists of heaven, touching past, present, and future, offer these cards.”

The words had sounded like nonsense, but this image proved the golem spoke the truth.

Those log entries I received during the Architect upgrade made a reference to a “principal key,” and from the context it refers to Tarot. Could that be the encryption key you need to unlock all your memories?

I do not believe so, but we will ask when the Misfortune Golem reappears. Your new displays contain far more urgent matters that need explained, and we should do everything in our power to summon that golem. He has critical context we need to understand this new information.

I am dying to know what those displays exposed, but before we go there, I want to ask what you think that space-mist is.

Lir paused for two seconds before answering. Me—or my creator. From a single image, my best calculations result in a fifty-fifty possibility.

Ruwen didn’t know how to respond to that.

Why do you think that? Rami asked.

The resolution of the image, the angle, depth, and lighting are all consistent with my default perception. More importantly, I converted this image into something you could understand. The original consisted of a custom language and symbol set I use to store all my information. The statistical probability that something other than a version of myself creating that image is zero.

Wow, that is—well, mind-blowing I guess, Ruwen stammered.

Indeed, Lir responded. What is the purpose of this picture?

Rami replied. It reveals Tarot. That strikes me as the purpose. And maybe that the two of you were together at some point in the past.

Why not allow access to all my memories?

That one is easy, Rami said, and it shows how far you’ve come emotionally that it isn’t obvious to you. I already know what needs to be done about Ruwen’s new displays, do you? What will your recommendation be to Ruwen about those displays?

Lir responded immediately. To not view them. To allow you or myself the latitude to distribute the information as it becomes relevant or necessary.

What? Ruwen asked, his voice louder than he meant.

I will recommend the exact same thing, Rami said. What’s your rationale?

The amount of information without context will overwhelm Architect Starfield and cause a catastrophic loss of focus resulting in a ninety-seven-point-nine percent probability that the current critical priorities will remain unaddressed.

Book meet scroll, Rami replied to Lir.