Welcome to Pleroma’s Void!

Welcome to my humble effort to tell the story of Pleroma’s Void. It is a story that has been bubbling out of me for at least five years. It is a story I believe must be told. It is a story about us, humanity, or lack thereof. It is a timeless story, full of conscious thought. A story of ambition, blind faith, death, true evil, and possibly salvation (I haven’t decided on how everything ends). I hope you enjoy my story.

This post marks the beginning of the story of Pleroma’s Void, a distant future spiritual SciFi drama. Each posting will have between five hundred and fifteen hundred words. In each title, I will include a chapter and section (eg. 1.1 for the first one here) to help keep everything in order. My goal is to eventually publish the full novel.

Your feedback is critical so please offer constructive criticism. Supportive comments are also always welcome (I’ll take all I can get as I go down this road again). I’ve learned writing a novel is tough work and reader feedback is absolutely essential.

If you’d like to read the backstory, you can purchase Evolved. My hope is Pleroma’s Void will stand on its own without the need to read Evolved. Evolved is where I first tried cutting my teeth at storytelling and gives the background of the protagonist and describes the world of Pleroma’s Void.

With that introduction, I hope you enjoy!

Pleroma’s Void – The Beginning

“Move consciousness into a quantum computer, they said.
Plug us into the super network, and behold! A superconscious linking the thoughts of humanity.
Objective scientists never understood pleroma,
relating all life, underlying consciousness, linking us to the beginning.
Humanity lost its spirit and doesn’t even know it.
It was the ultimate triumph of the devil.”

Reverend Julie Styles –
The sole religious representative who traveled to Earth-Two

 

834 Earth-Three Years After Colonization

They were severing his mind! Amos knew it when the doctor’s eyes turned distant and crackled with pink electricity.

The pink signaled he had received instructions through the higher conscious, the superconscious, the highest level of consciousness in humanity, and it had ordered the doctor to proceed.

Consciousness had become a fluid concept with the “self” spreading across multiple layers. Every human was born with a body and a self-enclosed consciousness. Once mature, typically around the age of six, the mind is linked to the superconscious and knowledge is downloaded into the brain. Over the next four years, the brain is molded into an efficient data processing center equivalent to a college graduate on the original earth. At age ten the student begins intensive study and specialization in their chosen field. By age fourteen the “self” has matured to allow the consciousness to make short trips into the superconscious, enabling more efficient communication with silicon systems and peers. To disconnect the mind of an eighteen-year-old was like removing a vital organ, possibly terminal.

Amos shivered as he stared into the numb light radiating above him. He thought back to the truth he discovered when his mind had touched Pregnant Time, the singularity in space humanity struggled to understand objectively. If the superconscious opened up the collective knowledge of humanity, Pregnant Time offered omniscience as space and time collapsed into a single point.

His naked body lay restrained by an energy field on a slab of cold black carbon, its unforgiving surface sucking the warmth out of the back of his shaved head, shoulder blades, and lanky legs. Cool sterile air flowed over what was left of his meat suit; his manliness hiding in hairy shadows.

Shadowy surgical equipment, with their maniacal tubes, teased his periphery vision. He had given up trying to move his head, which remained held in place. Even swallowing required a focused force of will.

“Doctor Daman. You’ll kill me. Kill any chance for humanity.” Amos’s dry voice strained out through gritted teeth. “My body will become an empty living husk.”

Daman turned his back to Amos as he adjusted one of the surgical machines. The dark blue medical form-fitting military uniform blended into the darkness, merging him into the instruments he controlled. Robotic arms moved around the doctor’s body, rotating limbs and twirling specialized fingers and instruments in one last orchestrated test before starting the procedure.

Amos rolled his eyeballs, dry from an inability to blink, towards the doctor. He searched for clues he was in another one of the doctor’s virtual realities, similar to the habitat in which he had lived for the first fourteen years of his life. In the habitat, he could control his environment with thoughts, which obviously was untrue here. However, he came to sense a shallowness in the world of his developmental habitat. It was most apparent when looking into another person’s eyes like the person lacked a soul.

The life behind the doctor’s eyes chilled his soul.