Robert Sawyer - Wake

Now I…

Now I could see!

A … brightness, an intensity: light!

A variable quality modifying the light: color!

Connections between points: lines!

Areas defined: shapes!

I could see!

I struggled to comprehend it all. It was vague and blurred, and involved a limited perspective, a directionality, a specific point of view. I was looking here, and—

No, no, it was more than that: I wasn’t merely looking here, I was looking at something in particular. What it was I had no idea, but it was in the center of my vision, and was the … focus of my attention.

Concepts were piling up with confusing rapidity, almost more than I could absorb. And the image kept changing: first it was of this, then it was of that, then of something else, then—

It was … strange. I felt a compulsion to think about whatever was in the center of the visual field, but I had no volition over what was there. I wanted to be able to control what I was thinking about, but no matter how much I willed the perspective to change, it didn’t — or, if it did, it changed in a way that had nothing to do with what I intended.

After a time I perceived that the changes in view weren’t random. It was almost as if…

The thought was slippery, like so many others, and I struggled to complete it.

It was almost as if another entity was controlling the vision. But…

But it could not be the other, for it was now reintegrated with me.

Struggling, thinking…

Yes, yes, there had been hints of a third entity. Something had cleaved me in two. Later, something had broken the intermittent connection between the two parts of me. And later still something had thrust us back together.

And the datastream from that special point made clear that something — some thing — had been looking at me. But now…

Now it wasn’t looking at me. Rather, it was looking at…

My mind was more nimble than before, but this was without parallel. And yet there had been hints of it, too, for those flashes that had been perceived earlier had corresponded to nothing in reality…

In this reality.

In my reality.

Incredible: a third entity — or, actually, a second one, now that I was whole. A second entity that could look here, at me, and also could look … there, at a different realm, at another reality.

But … but this second entity hadn’t made direct contact with me, not the way the other part of myself had when it had been separate. I heard no voice from this new entity, and it hadn’t sought me out…

Or had it? How else to better catch my attention, among all the millions of points I had looked at, than by reflecting myself back at me? And the bright flashes! A … beacon, perhaps? And now — this! A look into its realm, glimpses of its reality!

I studied the images I was being shown. After a time, I perceived there were two types of changes that occurred in them. In the first type, the entire image changed instantly. In the second, only parts of the image changed as—

The notion exploded into my awareness, expanding my perception; I could feel my conception of existence shifting. It was exhilarating.

When the whole image changed, I gleaned that it was a change in perspective. But when part of the image changed — when either an object gradually drifted away from the center, or when all the objects except the one in the center changed, that meant—

That meant that things were moving: things in this other realm could change position relative to one another. Astonishing!

Where that realm was I had no idea. Except through contact with that special point I had no access to it. But it did exist, of that I felt sure — a reality beyond this one.

And this other entity was now inviting me to look upon it.

Bashira walked Caitlin to their school’s entryway. “Thanks,” Caitlin said, peering with her newfound sight at her friend, whose features were partially concealed by what she suddenly realized was her headscarf.

“This is so awesome!” Bashira said. “I can’t imagine what—”

She was interrupted by the class bell. “You should go, babe,” Caitlin said.

“But I—”

“You’re presenting in English, remember? You’ve got to tell them all about wheat.”

“Mr. Struys said I—”

“I’ll be fine, Bashira. Honest.”

Bashira’s face did something, then she gave Caitlin a big hug and hurried off.

Caitlin stepped outside and found herself shielding her eyes from — God, it was the sun! She’d known that it was bright, but she’d had no conception — none! — of what that meant. A few minutes later she heard footsteps on concrete. She recognized her mom even before she said a word, based on the distinctive cadence of her footfalls.

She’d wanted it to be the first thing she ever saw. It hadn’t worked out that way, but it was, at least so far, the most beautiful: her mother’s face, heart-shaped — just like her own. The details were still indistinct, but to see her at all was — well, Mr. Struys’s word for it did seem apt just then: a miracle. “Hi, Mom!”

Her mother swept Caitlin into her arms. “You recognize me?” she asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Caitlin said, laughing and squeezing her tightly. “I mean, we’ve known each other for almost sixteen years.”

After a moment, Caitlin felt her mother’s grip loosening, and her hands transferred to Caitlin’s shoulders. The face, the heart-shaped face, loomed close and—

— and her mother let out a sob. “Oh, my God,” she said. “You’re looking into my eyes! You’ve never met my gaze before.”

Caitlin grinned. “You’re blurry, and the sun is so bright, but, yes, I can see you.” Each time she said it, her voice cracked a bit; she was sure it would continue to do so for weeks to come. “I can see! I don’t know why or how, but I can see!”

“Did you put your eyePod in duplex mode?” her mom asked.

“Um, yes. I’m sorry. I know I should have been paying attention in class, but…”

“No, no, it’s fine. But Dr. Kuroda had a software patch all set to download to your eyePod the next time you switched over; that must be what’s done it.”

“Oooh!” said Caitlin. “An eye patch! But — sorry! — I should have told you to bring him with you.”

“He’s off to Toronto for the day — gone to see Mamma Mia! Apparently ABBA is really big in Japan.” A pause. “God, my baby can see!”

Caitlin felt her eyes misting over again — and saw that that made her vision even more blurry!

“Let’s go,” her mother said excitedly. “There’s a whole world for you to see!”

Caitlin was overwhelmed by all the unfamiliar things she was seeing — strange shapes, splotches of color, flashes of light — and so she took her mother’s hand as they walked to the car. Were the lines she could barely discern painted on the parking lot? She had heard of such things. Or were they edges, maybe of those concrete bumpers at the ends of parking spaces? Or cracks in the pavement? Or dropped drinking straws?

She looked around the lot. “Cars, right?”

Her mother sounded delighted. “Yes, indeed.”

“But they’re all the same!”

“What do you mean?”

“There are just three or four colors. White, and … is that black, that dark one? And — and that one.” She pointed — the gesture came naturally, and she could vaguely see her finger as she aligned it with the object she was referring to.

“Red,” said her mother.

“Red!” Caitlin grinned. By some lucky fluke she’d gotten that color right when she’d arbitrarily assigned names to what she’d seen in webspace. “And — and that one there, that sort-of white.”