Chapter 1. The Doubt.

Bruce was still in a temporary body. He was only fifty years old and could have lived in that body for at least another one hundred and fifty. He knew that shortly before the end of his biological cycle, his mind would be transferred into an artificial body like that of the other Immortals, but he didn’t like the idea much, even though he realized that the transfer was inevitable, otherwise, his mind would be lost forever in one of the outer layers of the universe, of which little was known. The thought of having to leave New Earth troubled him.

That planet had remained one of the few suitable for human reproduction after the catastrophe that had destroyed Earth. Many other species reproduced on other planets, but humans had the structures and environmental conditions necessary to ensure the continuation of their species, especially on New Earth. Since the first colonization, a thousand years earlier, the planet had changed significantly. The presence of ten billion beings in temporary bodies had required profound changes on the surface and even underground. One million Immortals were responsible for producing artificial bodies, and another half a million were part of Security, but he was the highest authority on the planet and the one who had to make the important decisions.

Bruce had been elevated to the rank of Governor and was the sole highest authority for the entire planet, but his was not an elected position. The Governor was selected by the Federal Center for Mental Treatments, based on brain characteristics that met certain requirements necessary for the survival and progress of the species.

According to the Ancient Laws, the Federation was tasked with colonizing the entire universe with the Immortals. Their bodies did not degrade, and adequate energy sources were sufficient to periodically regenerate them, thereby ensuring a practically eternal operational life. This allowed them to travel for centuries using spacecrafts with warp drives, reaching planets even at immense distances that were inaccessible through the Gates. Moreover, their body structure allowed them to survive even on planets where the environmental conditions would be impossible for any living being. They didn’t need a breathable atmosphere and could withstand extreme temperatures. Their life depended solely on the availability of energy, which, in most cases, was drawn from the emissions of the nearest star.

Many requested to be transferred into artificial bodies ahead of schedule, but Bruce would never do so because he loved that planet and wanted to stay there for as long as possible. New Earth had been colonized a thousand years earlier by the famous Admiral Gordon, whose deeds filled the historical holographic archives. When the first colonizers arrived, a diverse fauna was present on the planet, including large reptiles and fierce predatory mammals at the top of the food chain. Because of this, the first settlers were forced to live inside protective domes scattered throughout the planet and linked by safe and secure corridors.

With the increasing human presence and wanting to preserve all native species, the situation reversed. Over the centuries, natural reserves were created in vast areas of the planet where animals could live freely, enclosing them with invisible and impassable barriers. The remaining territory remained free and safe for human settlements. Bruce was fascinated by those wild territories where life had remained as it was in its origins, before the arrival of humans. Often, he would cross the barrier and venture alone into those places, aboard an old aerobike. He would remain still in the air, watching giant carnivorous reptiles and large saber-toothed cats prowling the plains in search of prey.

In the desert, beyond the Volcanic Mountains, the Gate was functioning and connected New Earth instantly with one thousand and twenty-two other planets scattered across the universe. The Great Temporal Gate, however, was kept in a local underground facility where it had been found a thousand years earlier by Admiral Gordon. That Great Gate allowed for time travel as well as spatial movement. It was also said that it permitted one to exit from the layer of the universe where it was located and access the outer layers beyond.

An Ancient Law strictly prohibited the use of that Gate, and it had never been used since, not even for scientific purposes. It was guarded by an Immortal, the Guardian of the Great Gate, who operated under the orders of the Federation Council. That prohibition was inscribed in the section of the Ancient Laws of the historical archive. The Ancients had decided that there would never again be travel to the outer layers of the universe and that humans and other intelligent species would have to completely and permanently colonize what they called Layer One, their universe.

Bruce was very curious about the reasons that had led the Ancients to prohibit exit from Layer One, as the Ancient Laws did not explain the reason but merely imposed the prohibition. He had consulted the available information on the subject several times but had never been able to discover anything. It was only reported that anyone who finished their biological cycle without first transferring their mind to an artificial body would no longer perceive their self, and their mind would be absorbed into an external layer, lost forever. There was no information about what lay in that external layer, nor where it was, and this intrigued him even more.

The scientists who had hypothesized an onion-shaped universe made up of various concentric layers, later confirmed through various experiments that this hypothesis was valid and explained many phenomena that had never been understood before. In the documentation contained within the archives, that theory was only generally outlined, at least in the documents normally accessible. The first to formulate that hypothesis was a scientist named Wiesenthal, and his precious mind had been among the first to be transferred to an artificial body. This genius scientist was also the first to introduce the concept of pure energy.

The term energy is usually accompanied by an adjective that specifies it: electrical, magnetic, nuclear, thermal, etc. The term energy derives from the ancient Greek ἐνέργεια(enérgeia), from ἐνεργής(energes), "active" and ἔργον(ergon) "work, action." The term was first used scientifically in 1619 C.E. by Kepler, who defined it as: the Capacity to perform work, both as kinetic energy and as potential energy, susceptible of being transformed into physical action through suitable transformations.

A precise definition of energy, unaccompanied by adjectives and thus pure, is not easy to provide. Energy has no material reality but is rather an abstract mathematical concept that expresses a constraint regarding the possibilities of processes and the temporal symmetry of physical laws. It is simply a Capacity. Therefore, there is no substance, radiation, or fluid corresponding to pure energy. We might define it as an immaterial capacity that can generate physical effects while remaining immaterial. His hypothesis, which was later experimentally confirmed, was that what the ancients called the Mind, and what the believers referred to as the Soul, was nothing other than pure energy and that such energy resided in all living beings, albeit at different evolutionary levels.

Bruce wanted to discuss the necessity of transferring minds into new bodies with Admiral Gordon in person, but he had no idea where in the universe he might be. With his artificial body, he could be on any planet, even one uninhabitable for a human. The ancient Immortals no longer appeared in the archives of New Earth, as all data were deleted and stored elsewhere fifty years after their transfer to the new body. The archives of New Earth were not authorized to retain that information for longer, as it became federally regulated.

The Federation encompassed all one thousand and twenty-three worlds connected by the Gates, and accessing all of its archives was not a simple task. It was governed by a Grand Council made up of five members for each species and chaired in rotation by a representative from each species. Humans had ten representatives, but they were not at an advantage because decisions had to be made unanimously after extensive mental discussions among all members. In the end, a super biological computer coordinated all the various opinions, summarized them, and issued the law.

Bruce knew that the request for information he sought would have to be processed by the supercomputer and then approved by a high-ranking official from the Council. Admiral Gordon was a person of too much importance, and any information about him could not be disseminated without a valid reason. The Grand Council of the Federation was located on the planet Uluth, which was connected by a Gate like all the other planets of the Federation. Bruce decided to make an attempt and thought it would be better to go there in person rather than send a messenger drone through the Gate. He hadn't left the planet in a long time, and the idea of a trip appealed to him.

He rose from his comfortable magnetic cushion chair, which was a piece of antique furniture he particularly loved, and approached the large window of his office, which occupied the entire three-hundredth and last floor of the Governor's tower of New Earth. He gazed out at the wild area protected by the invisible barrier but did not see any animals moving about. It had been decided to extend the reserve to the city limits to highlight the optimal coexistence between the ancient and the modern. The preservation of the planet’s wild origins alongside the hyper-technological present.

Often, the inhabitants would linger at the edge of the barrier to admire some beast passing by and would jump with their hearts in their throats upon seeing a large predator crash against the protection in an attempt to seize them. Feeling like prey to a huge and ravenous Gigantosaurus or a fierce Smilodon, the great saber-toothed tiger, always provoked an intense emotion, even knowing that the barrier was absolutely inviolable.

Bruce returned to his chair and activated the micro-communicator, embedded beneath his skin in his left wrist, to arrange the trip. With a friendly tone as was his habit, often considered unusual by his subordinates given his high position, he addressed his assistant:

“Jordan, I need to go to Uluth; you should arrange for my transfer via the Gate.”

The assistant had been a high-ranking Security officer on Earth, and his mind had been transferred many years earlier into a class A artificial body, which had exceptional physical performances.

“When do you want to leave, sir?” The assistant promptly replied.

Bruce thought for a few seconds and told himself it would be pointless to postpone since he currently had no urgent institutional commitments and answered:

“Tomorrow morning.”

He relaxed in his chair, contemplating the most effective method of research to adopt once on Uluth. His goal was to speak with Admiral Gordon, but it would also be helpful to do so with some of his historical collaborators, and he mentally drew up a list based on the information he had in the archive.

Giorgio Relli, the legendary member of the ancient Council of the Phoenix. Lucius, who Gordon had sent through time to secure his invaluable collaboration. Wiesenthal, who was the first to hypothesize the onion-shaped structure of the universe. Weissman, who coordinated the team of scientists. Additionally, there were some scientists whose minds had been recovered from the past, traveling through time just before their natural death, who had been involved in formulating those hypotheses fundamental to science. Each of them could satisfy his curiosity. Confident in his authority as Governor of New Earth, he prepared to leave.

This was not his first trip through the Gate, but the thought that his body would be shattered and then reassembled millions of light-years away always created a certain discomfort for him, even though he was aware that this process had been happening for centuries without any incidents.

He exited the toroid of the Gate and was welcomed by the guard staff to whom he presented his credentials, which immediately had a certain effect. The Governor of a Planet deserved special attention. A native of Uluth, dressed in the black uniform of the Federation, greeted him with deference and asked:

“Are you traveling alone, sir? Where are you headed?”

His authority allowed him not to answer and he said curtly:

“Get me a service craft, please.”

The Uluthian, perhaps to make amends for the overly hasty and indiscreet question, arranged for him a luxurious anti-gravity spacecraft, the kind normally reserved for the highest officials of the Federation. The flight assistant made him comfortable on a plush seat and asked if he would like something to drink or a snack. Bruce looked at the young assistant, who had knelt a short distance from his chair and awaited his orders. She was an Uluthian but could easily pass for one from New Earth were it not for her height and slightly pointed ear pavilions. He found her very attractive in her form-fitting white uniform. He thought they were chosen for their charm and service quality to enhance the travel experience of important passengers using that means of transport. He replied with a half-smile:

“No, thank you, I don’t want anything. Please inform the pilot to take me to the Galaxy Complex.”

The young woman stood up, her height above the average for Uluthians, and with a dazzling smile, perfectly in line with her training, replied:

“Your wishes are my wishes, sir. I will inform the pilot right away,”

and she disappeared into the cockpit.

A couple of minutes later, he felt the craft silently elevate with a slight tilt.

He knew the Galaxy Complex because he had stayed there several times in the past. It was a luxurious residential complex located in a two-hundred-story tower not far from the group of towers that formed the headquarters of the Federation Government. Generally, it was frequented by high-ranking officials from all the federated worlds. During the journey, he began to think about which of his old acquaintances might be useful to him. He remembered Chad, a contemporary from New Earth with whom he had attended Space Academy many years before and who he knew had remained in the Fleet, while he had left to embark on a diplomatic career. He was unaware of Chad's current position but intended to trace him using his personal identification number.

The aircraft landed on the runway atop the tower, and he descended followed by the respectful salutation of the flight assistant. The tower staff had evidently been informed by the pilot that a Governor was arriving to stay at the Galaxy, and a reception officer was waiting for him in the landing strip. The young official, dressed in an elegant tunic of the latest fashion, addressed him with customary respect:

“Welcome, sir. I have been tasked with welcoming you and meeting any of your needs. What type of accommodation do you require? Do you expect any guests?”

As they entered the atrium in front of the landing strip, Bruce replied:

“I want accommodation solely for myself, on a quiet floor, and I don’t want to be disturbed. I do not anticipate meetings with anyone else.”

They stopped in front of the access door to one of the numerous elevators that opened immediately. They entered, and the young man said:

“Very well, sir. I will take you to the 99th floor. It is located in a projection of the tower, and each apartment has a reserved elevator that connects directly to both the surface and the flight strip. It is the most discreet and reserved floor in the complex.”

They arrived in a handful of seconds at the 99th floor, and the assistant brought him to the door, which opened automatically.

“You will find everything you need, and for any further needs, you can call Reception directly from your personal communicator. I wish you a pleasant stay, sir.”

The apartment was huge, almost half the space of his private office on New Earth, which occupied an entire floor of the building. He smiled to himself thinking that if he had requested an apartment where he could receive guests or hold meetings, who knows what apartment they would have made available to him.

Looking around, he noticed that in the main room there was a private elevator that, as the young attendant had announced, connected the apartment with the surface and the flight strip at the top of the tower.

It was decorated in an ancient style with heavy dark wood furniture that evoked a past from many centuries ago, contrasting with the ultra-technological accessories like the automatic kitchen and bar, the ultrasonic bathroom, and a small pool with artificial waves. A 3D image generator was set up in the center of the room, facing two enormous sofas. In one corner stood a humanoid servant robot that could be activated vocally by saying the luminous code appearing on its forehead, but he decided not to use it for the moment. Instead, he preferred to immerse himself in the pool after activating the device that created ripples in the water, to relax and think. To embellish the tub, a tiny inscription that referred back to ancient Earth, now only a nostalgic memory, discreetly flashed: "Jacuzzi."

He entered Chad's identification number into the communicator, requesting a holographic call, and while waiting, he stretched out in the tub, closing his eyes in total relaxation. After a few minutes, a holographic image appeared with his friend’s face, and his cheerful, ringing voice said:

“Hi Bruce, how are you? It's been a while since I heard from you; is everything okay?”

He shook off his daze and replied:

“Hi Chad, I'm doing great. Where are you? I’d like to talk to you, when can we meet?”

The face in the image grinned:

“Are you perhaps trying to introduce me to that Uluthian girl who's in front of you in the tub?”

“I could do that,”

he replied, smiling, and added:

“I’m at the Galaxy; can you make it to me?”

The response came with laughter:

“If she's beautiful, I'll join you for dinner,”

and he ended the communication.

Satisfied to have quickly found his friend, he got out of the tub and wrapped himself in a soft absorbent towel. In the apartment, there was an automatic tailoring machine of the latest generation. He took off his clothes inside the scanner and chose a uniform similar to the one used on New Earth, with a simple decoration that clearly indicated his rank. It was better to highlight it, he told himself. The uniform fit him perfectly, and despite knowing about these new machines' existence, he was amazed by the speed and perfection with which that uniform was tailored for him.

He had to wait for dinner time to meet Chad. He settled into one of the two enormous sofas to listen to the latest announcements from the Federation Council and activated the 3D image generator. It was a model he had never seen before. Evidently, the Galaxy made all the most advanced technology available to their important guests. Looking more closely at the control panel, his attention was caught by a button with a small heart emblem. Curiosity piqued, he touched it and a hologram appeared with options asking him to choose sex, race, age, and body shape. He thought the Galaxy's offering to guests might also include erotic images, and although he had no such entertainment in mind, out of pure curiosity he chose: female, New Earth, 40 years old, curvy. A beautiful woman appeared, just as requested, wrapped in a short tunic that barely covered her voluptuous forms. He was amazed by the lifelike image but was astounded when the woman approached him and gently touched his hand, saying in a sultry voice:

“Enjoy your life! I am Zeina...”

He snapped out of his astonishment and realized it was a three-dimensional image, but touching it gave the sensation of a real body. He imagined what performances she could offer guests, but he wanted to concentrate on his meeting with Chad, so he didn't want distractions at that moment. He called himself foolish for being upset but, before turning everything off, he politely said goodbye to Zeina with a “bye,” even though she was just a sophisticated hologram.

Every apartment in the Galaxy was equipped with an automatic kitchen where guests could request any specialty from any planet. For those nostalgic for the old days, however, a traditional restaurant featuring real chefs and waiters had been provided on the second floor. The grand dining hall was furnished as it had been on Earth several thousand years prior, with walls covered in real wood, tables with comfortable padded chairs, and period chandeliers. The only modern technological device was the acoustic domes. They could be activated upon request and isolated conversations happening around a table from the rest of the hall, ensuring total privacy for diners. No sound from within could penetrate the acoustic dome’s walls, and no one could enter from the outside.

Chad entered the restaurant on time and, looking around, saw Bruce seated at a table in a corner of the large hall. He approached with long strides, smiling. Bruce stood to shake his hand and, smiling in return, said:

“Welcome, Mr. Rear Admiral!”

Noticing the decoration on his uniform, and Chad immediately responded:

“What an honor, Mr. Governor of New Earth!”

They both laughed and began recounting to each other what had happened during the time since their last meeting. The conversation turned to artificial bodies, and Bruce asked with a smile:

“Are you planning to change your body for an eternal, unbeatable one?”

Chad became serious and replied:

“I am convinced it will be necessary to do so for survival, but it leaves me with many questions...”

and added:

“I will do it precisely when I am forced to do so to avoid disappearing entirely from this world. What about you?”

Bruce seized the unexpected opportunity from his friend’s words and replied:

“I think the same way, and I will tell you that the reason for my visit to Uluth is related to this...”

At Chad's questioning gaze, he continued:

“I am very curious about the fact that the Ancient Laws do not explain the reason for prohibiting exploration of the outer layers of the universe, existence of which is proven by scientists, and where non-transferred minds would be lost. I will change my temporary body right at the last moment because I know that by doing so I will be forced to leave New Earth. I love that planet deeply, and not just because I was born there, like almost everyone else of our kind, for that matter.”

Chad became cheerful for a moment and said, almost laughing:

“I get it! You've become fond of those ugly beasts roaming the planet's forests.”

Becoming serious again, he added:

“Do you think you will find answers here on Uluth?”

Bruce decided to clarify his intentions completely:

“I would like to speak personally with Admiral Gordon or one of his closest collaborators from that time.”

After a brief pause in silence, Chad asked him, looking serious into his eyes:

“What would you ask the Admiral?”

Bruce didn’t hesitate:

“First, I would ask him for the reasons behind the prohibition on exploring the outer layers of the universe. The Ancient Laws were promulgated in his time, and I believe he contributed as well. And then...”

At his friend's questioning gaze, he continued resolutely:

“In the archive of New Earth, I accidentally found a fragment of a hologram that was part of a report and which, apparently due to an error, had not been completely deleted. As you know well, the Federation periodically sends officials to update the local archives of all planets. From that fragment, it seemed to me that the Admiral had been hunting incorporeal beings that existed in an outer layer for a long time.”

Chad became serious:

“Interesting...” he added pensively:

“It won't be easy to find the Admiral. The last news I had about him was from a subordinate officer who had seen him at the Gate of the planet Govhlor, boarding an old Ranger to reach S-102A, in the heart of the Milky Way galaxy. But this must have happened more than a year ago.”

Bruce tried to ask:

“Do you think you can obtain more recent information about the Admiral?”

His friend, with a doubtful tone, replied:

“I can try, even though I don’t think it will be an easy task to track him down. However, I’m also interested in this matter, and to start, I will take a look through the Fleet archives, at least to the extent my rank allows me.”

They parted with a handshake and a mutual promise to stay in touch. It was getting late, and Bruce decided to return to his apartment. He stretched out with pleasure on the soft hovering bed that immediately conformed to the shape of his body. For a moment, he considered activating Zeina, but then thought better of it and quickly fell asleep.

He woke up very early and decided to make an attempt at the Federation archive. He called Reception and requested a vehicle to be available on top of the tower. After getting dressed, he had a calm breakfast and took the elevator that went directly to the flight strip.

A small two-seater aircraft was waiting for him, and he immediately thought that those from the Galaxy wanted to save money. But then reflecting, he understood that not knowing his destination, they had chosen that small craft, which would be able to land almost anywhere. His appreciation for the Galaxy grew even more.

The young pilot, who wore a uniform more suited for adventures in deep space than for a city pilot, asked him with a friendly smile:

“Where would you like to go, sir?”

“Take me to the Federation Government Towers,”

Bruce replied and also asked:

“Do you know which tower houses the archives?”

The young man smiled condescendingly as if he had been asked his mother’s name:

“Of course, sir. I think it’s better to land you on the rooftop strip. The ground-level one is very crowded. Do you want me to notify your arrival?”

Bruce nodded his head and sent his personal number to the communicator. He hoped that his rank would facilitate some useful contact.

A young Uluthian in an officer’s uniform welcomed him upon arrival:

“Good morning, sir. How can I assist you?”

Bruce thought that his rank had produced the effect he expected, as they had sent an officer to meet him and responded in a detached tone:

“I need to consult some archives.”

The young man, without batting an eye, said:

“Very well, sir, please follow me.”

In the atrium, they took an elevator that took them to the tenth floor. They walked down a long corridor to a door that opened immediately. From the threshold, the young man pointed to a scanner:

“Please identify yourself. Beyond this door, a record clerk will be at your disposal.”

Bruce thanked him with a nod, and the young man remained at the threshold until the door opened after recognition was successful.

A stocky man who appeared very old, perhaps nearing two hundred years of age, came towards him. He was certainly not a native of Uluth and very likely from New Earth, Bruce thought. As he walked slightly hunched toward him, he spoke in a kind tone:

“Good morning, sir. You must be the Governor of New Earth; at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

Bruce quickly tried to make him friendly:

“Yes, I am the Governor of that planet, and it seems you also hail from that world.”

The old man, pleased that his origin had been recognized, smiled and showing a desire to talk, replied:

“You are right, sir. My name is Baker, and I left New Earth many years ago. Do you believe me if I say that sometimes I miss that world with all its fierce beasts?”

Bruce smiled in return, happy to establish a friendly relationship with the old man, who could be very useful to him, and tried with the topic of artificial bodies:

“Why at your age are you still in a temporary body?”

The old man shook his head and replied:

“Don’t ask me, sir. This old natural machine is on its last legs, and I'm waiting for a nice new machine, but first, I have to wait for my replacement to arrive. It seems that the young ones don’t like working in the archives because there is little movement and they get bored.”

He paused for a moment and looked him in the face, adding:

“What type of research are you wanting to do, sir? I don’t want to waste your time talking about my old age ailments.”

Bruce thought for a moment and said casually:

“I’d like to take a look at the oldest laws found in the archive.”

The old man gestured for him to follow and led him to a consultation room. In the center was a console with a magnetic cushion armchair.

Before leaving, he said:

“It works with voice commands or through your communicator. The room is completely soundproofed by an acoustic dome. Privacy is total,”

and before leaving, he added with a cordial smile:

“If you need anything, feel free to call me.”

Bruce relaxed in the armchair, particularly comfortable and suited for long consultations with the archive, and began his exploration.

He consulted the archive for a few hours but found nothing he had not already seen in his archive on New Earth. He was about to give up when a thought occurred to him and he called the old Baker:

“Are there no other archives that contain the Ancient Laws? I can’t find the information I’m seeking here.”

The old man looked at him doubtfully and asked:

“May I know what you are specifically looking for, sir?”

Bruce decided to be honest, trusting in the friendliness the old man inspired:

“I am looking for information on why the Ancients prohibited travel to the outer layers.”

He spoke almost all in one breath and waited for the old archivist's reaction. The old man, looking him in the eyes, said in a low voice, almost conspiratorially:

“I confess, sir, I have often asked myself that question too...”

and added:

“you will find nothing on the subject here, but perhaps I can help you.”

He activated his communicator, and Bruce heard him say:

“George, I need your code for a couple of hours.”

He heard the voice reply:

“Baker, you know it's against all regulations, right?”

The old man calmly echoed:

“And you know you owe me that big favor, right?”

Before closing the communication, he received the code on his communicator and, turning to Bruce, said with a slight smile:

“He’s a friend. His code isn’t at the highest level but is definitely higher than mine.”

He entered the code into the hologram generator and while exiting, said:

“Try now, sir. You should find something more than before.”

After half an hour, Bruce found something interesting. It was not much, but it was a small trace that could lead him in the right direction. In an ancient hologram, he found a document from Admiral Gordon presenting a legislative proposal for the prohibition of travel to the outer layers, motivated by two reasons: the danger of Layer Two and the inappropriate interference with Layers Three and Four. His proposal had been based on findings from the journeys of the Investigators, particularly one called Investigator Number One.

He continued the research, up to the limit of the two hours Baker had requested from his friend, without finding additional useful news. He recorded the most interesting part onto his communicator and closed it all down. As he exited, he wished the old archivist would find a new artificial body soon, and the old man bid him farewell with a smile and a wave of his hand.

On the roof, the pilot was waiting for him, seated in the small cabin, watching a hologram depicting an imaginative adventure in space where Uluthian soldiers were fighting against monstrous and fierce alien beings. Bruce boarded and asked the pilot, smiling:

“Who's winning?”

The young man smiled and replied:

“Us, obviously...” and added: “Where to, sir?”

“To the Galaxy,”

Bruce replied distractedly, his mind immersed in his thoughts.

Back in the apartment, he began to consider the information he had found. The Admiral had sent investigators to the outer layers, but in the official documentation accessible to all, nothing of the sort was mentioned. There were at least three other outer layers about which nothing was officially known. It was only known that other undefined layers existed, but what lay within was a mystery, while the Admiral must have known perfectly well if he sent investigators there, especially one referred to as Number One. Layer Two was declared dangerous... why? What dangers did it hide? The other two were said to be best not interfered with, but they were not considered dangerous. These were only some of the myriad questions to which he could not provide any answers. He decided to inform Chad of everything he had discovered and hear his opinion. Maybe he had more news to understand something.

He called Chad on the communicator, and after a few minutes, Chad answered:

“Hey Bruce, sorry, but I’m busy; I have to see someone.”

Bruce tried to apologize:

“I’m sorry, Chad; can we meet for dinner? I have news.”

His friend replied in a rush:

“I think I have news too. Let’s meet tomorrow night for dinner. I have to run; bye.”

He closed the communicator and remained thoughtful at the urgency Chad had shown. Had he managed to make some discoveries? Other questions overlapped with those already on his mind. He decided he needed to detach his mind until the next day when he would see Chad again. Until then, ruminating on unverifiable hypotheses would be pointless and perhaps even harmful.

He activated the 3D image generator, and after pressing the red heart, Zeina reappeared. He surrendered himself between the arms of that stunning image, which was a real body in every sense, and he forgot about Admiral Gordon, the layers of the universe, and everything else. He left it functioning until just before the meeting with Chad and discovered that she had other remarkable qualities. Besides being a wonderful lover, she was capable of engaging in pleasant conversation and expressing opinions and judgments on a myriad of topics. They chatted for a long time, and it seemed she enjoyed conversing with him. He didn’t even use the servant robot because Zeina took care of everything in the apartment. If he had not seen her emerge from the 3D image generator, he would never have realized she was not a real woman.

When it was time to meet Chad, he hesitated and regretted having to make her vanish. A moment later, he called himself foolish for being upset over a hologram.