Caino's Alphabet, S

Shabby amateur dramatics it may have been 
but Caino’s theatrical revelation 
of the Point had served its purpose well.  
All he had required was the attention 
of six cloistered, cave-dwelling academics, 
and unveiling the Point had proved more than adequate for this purpose.
    “As the Second Science would put it,” 
Caino began, projecting himself 
into the stunned silence he had created, 
“countless vestigial Paths trail off 
before a Mind reaches its final destination.  
So it is only against great odds 
that the death I witnessed was 
that old hunter’s one final End.”
    “It’s rare indeed to see a true and final death,” Xalwo agreed, “a Mind has as many Ends 
as there are stars in the sky…”
        “I know that now,” Caino replied, 
“but I knew little of the Sciences, 
First or Second, at that time.  
So with eyes that were still wild, 
I saw through a veil that others perhaps could not.  That Point was not rising from his head… 
it was descending into it.” 
    “That is not how it works!” exclaimed Gail, exploding in frustration.  
“A Point draws a Mind and its memory 
from the final End of its Great Path!  
How could it even…” 
Gail faltered as six accusing eyes turned 
in unison to transfix her in one suspicious gaze.
—    
    Vincent, Wayne, and Xalwo 
were among the keenest minds of the First Science, and if her emphasis 
on a Mind’s final End had not betrayed her, 
Gail’s futuristic jargon would surely have done so.  All three now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt 
that she was an agent of the Second Science.
    “And now you know,” said Aaron, 
clapping his hands down upon his knees, 
“Gail was one of a party of three, who, 
attempting to kidnap Bartholomew and myself, instead became my prisoner.  
I intended to bring her to the Abbey 
for interrogation, but as it happened, 
our many debates on the journey here convinced me that dialogue between our two sects 
was not only a possibility but a necessity.”
    Xalwo, Vincent, and Wayne glanced warily 
first at Aaron, then one another, 
each secretly agreeing with his aim 
of reconnecting the two Sciences, 
but at the same time fearful 
of being branded heretics upon their return 
to the Abbey.  An awkward silence ensued 
as all three hesitated 
to engage with the radical concept 
of reconciling the two sundered disciplines.
    It was Niel, the novice who broke the spell, 
“I’m sorry, but wasn’t Caino telling us a story 
about a Point moving backwards 
through some old guy’s life?”
    Niel’s enthusiasm for Caino’s story 
as a narrative gave the others a convenient refuge from their dilemma.  
Vincent, senior amongst the three, 
glanced first at Xalwo, then Wayne, 
and nodded at Caino as a gesture to continue.  
    “My idea,” resumed Caino, 
“is that moving backwards through time, 
the Point dropped into the hunter’s head 
and made its way back along 
what Gail calls his Great Path.  
It didn’t pull the information from his Path, 
as both our Sciences’ would have it, 
but instead retrieved it directly.
    “As the Point moved back 
through his Great Path, the old man’s 
other Paths were absorbed 
as they met at each confluence—
like the joining of tributaries to a larger river.  
So when at last the Point arrived 
at the Place of his Beginning, 
it had incorporated his countless shorter Paths together with his Great one, transmitting them all 
to the Machine as a single cohesive whole.
    “What the Second Science consider 
to be vestigial Paths were stored, remembered, 
and experienced in his dreams—
both in life and thereafter in the Machine.”
    Turning to Gail, Caino continued, 
“that’s what I think has been happening all along.  As you know, a Point can be moving 
in any or all directions of time and space 
as far as the Machine is concerned.  
Since they are the eyes and hands 
of a machine which we can only experience 
through our own temporal orientation, 
we may very well have thought they were coming when they were, in fact going.”
    “…Yes,” said Gail cautiously.  
Her firsthand experience 
of the machine lent her a more detailed scepticism than that of the others, but she could see 
that Caino had a point.
    “You see?’ continued Caino, 
“if only the Points move backwards, 
and we take into account dreams 
and their ability to compress time, 
we can be reconciled.  The myriad Paths 
our First Science hold so dearly?  
They flowed back to his Beginning 
and dwelt in his dreams.  
He lives them at night and they speak 
to him in the morning.  All is preserved 
as a single Mind, transmitted to the Machine through a single Point.  
Is that not efficient enough 
for your Second Science?”
    “It sounds feasible… 
but how would you test this theory?” asked Gail.
    “For that, we must first locate 
the final End of someone’s life,” replied Caino 
and the confidence drained from his voice. 
“Before the Point enters, I will throw myself upon it.  
If the manuscript Aaron retrieved is correct, 
my Mind should be taken into that Point 
for the duration of its journey.  
Upon being presented to the Machine, 
my Mind will be rejected and returned to my body—like one possessed by your Second Science.” 
    “That might work,” said Vincent, 
but you wouldn’t remember a thing.” 
        “Ah, but Darius will!” Aaron exclaimed, seeing Caino’s plan.
    “Are you sure he’ll live long enough?” 
asked Wayne.
    “A single dream can drag on 
for a hundred years or more,” replied Niel, 
whose mentor, Said, specialised in dreams, 
“he’ll be just fine.”
    “This might take a whole week of dreams,” remarked r Caino morosely, 
“I know that time compresses in our sleep—
that events happen in our dreams at the speed of our thoughts—but Darius might not be so very quick.”
    “It will be risky for both of you,” 
said Xalwo solemnly, 
“but if it works it would prove your theory.”
    The sound of young voices approaching 
ended the conversation for the moment; 
the four novices had returned from their game.  Caino excused himself and retreated 
to the copse of small trees to find Darius.