Infinity's Avatar Prologue & Chapter 1

Prologue

"From the ineffable primordial unity emerges the great potency of the Tao." - The Book of Balance and Harmony

Before the beginning, there was only the infinite Tao. A realm of metaphysical potential, a creative void filled with restless energy and wisdom, beginningless and endless. Over countless eons the restless energy sought balance, giving birth to light and dark, which, in turn, gave birth to all dualities. Thus, Yin and Yang were born.

More eons passed. Infinite realms grew like mushrooms after a summer's rain, only to perish. Great civilizations and their gods appeared and then faded into oblivion. There was life and there was death, there was birth and there was rebirth, guided by the infinite wisdom of the Tao. There was balance in all things and perfect harmony until there wasn't.

A discordant note like a mis-tuned violin string was heard. It was faint at first, more a whisper than a sound, and the Tao heard it. For the first time, the Tao became aware and extended its consciousness. It sensed corruption, a defiling of the void, a danger; it sensed Hundun, the avatar of Primordial Chaos.

The Chaos consumed a billion billion realities, replacing creation with entropy, and birth with death, like soap bubbles riding a summer zephyr, the beautiful swirling rainbows that marked the boundary of bubble and not-bubble faded and they disappeared as if they never were.

Light turned into dark. Pralaya, the avatar of Hundun, swallowed more of creation. It wasn't evil or good, it just was, but with the balance of creation disturbed, Pralaya grew stronger. The Wheel of Dharma spun unevenly, wobbling around the axis of existence.

The Tao knew this imbalance would unravel the fabric of reality, ending this Veda. Entropy would reduce all there was and all that is to the Hundun before creation emerges again. There would be only the Hundun until the universe reemerges from the Tao, and the next Veda would begin, but it was not yet that time.

The Tao knew it could not resist the all-encroaching of the Hundun. It fragmented its eternal essence into its three aspects, the nothingness of Wujec, the perfect balance of Taiji, and the potentiality and faultless rhythms of Yu.

It sent its three aspects across all of eternity where they would search for three worthy avatars who would save all of Creation.

Chapter 1

"In the beginning was the Tao. All things issue from it"

Tao Te Ching

Mike Weldon loved camping. More than one relationship had failed because a prospective girlfriend who said she loved to hike, and camp was lying. Except for Audrey, she really did like hiking and camping, but had gotten a job offer on the West Coast as chief actuarial officer for a major financial services company, too good to refuse.

They promised to stay in touch, but he knew that long-distance relationships rarely worked out. He was one of New York City's most eligible bachelors, which is why so many women lied, exaggerated, and disappointed him. Mike was a 28-year-old billionaire tech entrepreneur who graduated MIT at age 19. Six feet tall, he was good looking with messy light brown hair, brown eyes, and a muscular athletic build. He was one of the most recognizable figures in the current quantum tech boom.

Still, camping and hiking, even by himself, was a welcome break from the shareholders, lawyers, politicians, scammers, and gold diggers that dominated his life. The White Cloud Mountain Trail, here in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho, was one of his favorite hiking destinations. It was mostly unknown except for locals and had everything an experienced hiker could want. The "mostly unknown" was important. He could go days without encountering another hiker and be unrecognized.

Mike was never truly alone, however. He had a GPS tracker that also monitored his life signs. He had a rapid-response team of ex-special forces veterans shadowing him, and nearby, there was a helicopter fueled and ready to pick him up if needed.

It was early June. The noon sky was azure blue. A blanket of pure white clouds wrapped the snow-covered peaks. A symphony of bird calls floated on the light breeze. And stopped.

A delicate vibration, more a feeling than an actual sensation, worked its way up from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. He looked at the sky and thought he saw spider-web cracks spread across the sky. They became jagged and more irregular now, like a jigsaw puzzle.

The cracks grew wider. Within the interstices, Mike saw strange vistas and great cities. Some resembled the great cities and temples of Ancient Greece. Others reminded him of the great towers and spires of Asgard. He saw the trackless green plains of Takama-no-Hara, and the heavenly realm of Svarga with its luminous jewel-studded houses, within the bosom of the sacred mountain, Meru. But then, dark, brooding buildings seemingly stolen from H. P. Lovecraft's mind by the unearthly horrors that inhabit his world replaced the heavenly beauty. There were hellish landscapes of fire and burning lava rivers under a burning, dark brown sky taken from a Mordor made real. In those raging rivers, skeletal arms reached towards the celestial hell above before sinking down into the glowing magma.

Mike slammed his eyes shut, hoping the inexplicably real phantasms would abate, terrified by the nightmarish visions. He felt himself sink down. Am I dead? He thought. Have I fallen off the mountain? He laid there, too terrified to open his eyes. Then, far away, but drawing closer was the rhythmic mechanical thump-thump of a helicopter. A moment later, he felt the light touch of a paramedic.

"Are you OK, Mr. Weldon? Don't move. We'll take care of you."

His eyes tightly closed, Mike listened intently to the surrounding sounds: the quiet but tense conversation of the rescue team, the delicate sound of birds punctuated by the hunting cry of a hawk and the distant roar of a mountain stream, swollen by snowmelt. Cautiously, he opened his eyes. His sunglasses had fallen off. The brilliant sun and glare of the still plentiful snow blinded him. Squinting to protect his eyes, he saw his sunglasses and put them on.

He sat up, helped by the paramedic, Lisa Canby, and leader of his security team, Mark Williams. He pushed them away and stood up. "I'm OK," he said.

"Are you sure, Mr. Weldon?" Williams asked.

"Sir, you lost consciousness." Lisa said.

"I'm fine. Stop fussing." Mike said. But am I "fine?" He thought. I remember every detail of what I saw, and it felt real.

"Sir," Lisa said. At least let us get you off this mountain and have you checked out."

Mike hated doctors, but for once, he was worried. Did I have a stroke or a brain tumor? Who can I even tell about what I saw? They'd think I was nuts. I can just imagine what would happen if the board of directors got wind of this. That jackass Jack Willoughby wants me out as CEO, anyway. So, for one of the few times in his life, he didn't fight or argue about seeing a doctor, but did he need a neurologist or a psychiatrist? "OK. Let's get out of here."

"Wyatt, pick up Mr. Weldon's stuff," Williams said.

"Yes, sir." They loaded Mark's pack and other equipment onto the custom-built Bell 429. "Do you need help to get on, sir?"

"No!" Mike said sharply. He climbed in.

The helicopter trip took 30 minutes. They landed at Boise International Airport. Mike's private jet was waiting. With a strong tail wind, the flight to Teterboro, NJ would take one and a half hours. Mike and his security team boarded the plane and minutes later, they were in the air.

It was Monday. He had over nine hundred email messages waiting for him. The Generative AI mail app named Felix after the classic cartoon Felix, the basis of his fortune, could handle most of the emails. If Felix couldn't answer them, they would go to his staff, leaving very few that Mike had to deal with personally.

As usual, the trip seemed longer than the actual flight time. His security was professional and competent, but they talked little, especially to him. Mike thought he intimidated them, although he was not much of a conversationalist, either. For most of his life, he was smarter and more driven than his peers. A computer prodigy, he learned how to code in multiple programming languages by the time he was ten. A cryptography genius, the government tried to recruit him while he was still in college.

He entered the University of California, Berkeley, at age 16 and graduated two years later with degrees in Electrical Engineering, Applied Math, and Cognitive Science. Rather than go to graduate school, he instead started a company called HA (Heuristic Architectures) where he developed Felix. Knowing that the company with just one product was vulnerable, HA branched out and became a leader in quantum computing. They went public five years after he started it. The IPO stock offering instantly made him a billionaire many times over.

As they started their descent. Mike said to his security detail, "I would remind you of the confidentiality agreements you signed. If you disclose to anyone what happened, and I mean anyone, whether it's your wife, husband, lover, best friend, kids, or even your dog," a strained chuckle filled the cabin. "You will face the full consequences of breaching the agreement. That being said, thank you for your prompt and professional actions in coming to my aid."

"You're welcome, sir," Willams said. But there was an edge to his voice Mike heard. I just can't help myself, he thought. If I had been seriously hurt, Mark and his team might have saved my life. "I'm sorry I came on so strong." He said to the team. "There's a lot going on and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Mike's armored limo, and his driver were waiting when they landed. The security team piled into a Mercedes van and followed the limo as they pulled out and on to Route 46, to New York City. Mike lived at Sutton Place and 58th Street in a new building that boasted of having the best security in the city. He owned the three-story penthouse and the floor below, where his security team was housed. A private elevator provided access to the Penthouse and the floor below.

His driver, Nathan Wild, was one of the few people Mike felt comfortable having a "normal" conversation with. A former NYPD homicide detective who had served in the military, Nate had a way about him that allowed Mike to drop his guard.

"So how did the hiking go, boss?" Nate said. "I thought you were going to be back on Thursday?"

"Something came up, Nate, and I had to be back a few days early."

"Sorry to hear that. I know you were looking forward to that hike," Nate said. "It's always something, isn't it?"

"The story of my life, Nate."

"Can I ask you a kind of personal question?"

"Sure, Nate. Ask away."

"Do you ever wish you could just be a normal guy?"

"To tell you the truth, I haven't been a 'normal guy' for a long time. But yes, sometimes I do. Maybe not completely normal. I've loved science fiction since I could read."

"Believe it or not, I love science fiction." Nate said. "I used to love mysteries, but after a while, my life was like a James Patterson mystery. But what do you mean 'not completely normal?'"

"One of the first science fiction books I read was 'Glory Road' by Heinlein." Mike said. "I was only 11 years old, and I don't know if you ever read the book, but there are some pretty spicy scenes in it."

"I never read that one," Nate said.

"Well, my dad did, and he took the book away from me. Of course, that made me want to finish the book even more, so I convinced my older sister, Anna, to buy another copy for me, which I hid."

"What was it about that book that you liked so much?"

"It's about a former soldier who meets a beautiful woman who turns to be the Empress of the Galaxy. The hero, Oscar 'Scar' Gordon, must fight monsters using his brains and sword-fighting skills to recover a valuable treasure."

"So, you want to be a sword fighting hero who meets a beautiful woman and finds a treasure?" Nate asked.

"Yes, I know, pretty silly for a grown man who the world thinks, has it all." Mike said.

"I don't know, boss," Nates said. "If you ever decide to go into the hero business, I might join you. It sounds like fun. We're here. What time do you need me here tomorrow?"

"I have a meeting with the board at 10:30, so I guess you should pick me up at 9:00."

"You've got it, boss."

"Hey Nate, thanks for listening."

"No problem, have a good evening."

"You too."

The security team and Mike took the private elevator to their respective floors. He put his hand on the sensor and eye to the retina reader and the door opened. His butler, Bernhard, greeted him. Born in Switzerland, he grew up in England and received his butler's training at the International Butler Academy in Simpelveld, The Netherlands. Prior to that, he was a member of the British SAS. Six feet three inches tall, he had a formidable appearance. At age 46, he had wide shoulders, a narrow waist, and short, neat blond hair with some gray on the sides. His eyes were blue and always active, a habit from his days in SAS.

He was new and had been working for Mike for only three weeks. Before that, he had a cook, housekeeper, bodyguard, and a personal secretary. Nate convinced him that hiring a highly qualified butler with military experience made more sense from a security viewpoint and that they could replace four people with one. Nate recommended Bernhard, who had military experience, after using his sources and contacts in law enforcement and the military, to vet him. Mike was pleased with Bernhard, although the "stiff upper lip" was taking some time to get used to.

"Welcome back, Sir. It must be disappointing for you to have to cut your vacation short."

"It was, Bernhard. But here I am."

"Commander Williams advised of your premature return, so I took the liberty of preparing a veal parmigiana dinner for you."

"Thanks, Bernhard. Did he mention why I came back early?"

"Only that something came up during your excursion."

"Yes, something very unexpected, Bernhard." Mike rarely confided in people, except for Nate. His therapist has told him many times that confiding in and trusting others doesn't make someone weak, but keeping things to himself was a habit that was hard to break.

"Of course, Sir."

"I'm going to take a quick shower."

"I thought you might, sir," Bernhard said. "Would you like me to prepare your shower?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Bernhard. I can do it myself." Mike snapped.

"As you say, sir. Your dinner will be ready when you finish."

Once in the shower, Mike berated himself for being such a prick to Bernhard. He must hate me by now. I'm surprised he hasn't quit. I would if I worked for me.

He felt a little better after the shower. He put the towels in the hamper. It's the least I can do for a guy who would give his life to protect an ungrateful, spoiled brat like me.

As promised, dinner was ready and waiting. "Bernhard, I'm sorry about the attitude. I know you just want to do your job. I am grateful to you. You should know that."

"Thank you, sir, but no apology was necessary. If I may, you have been in no way unfair or unreasonable. You have a complicated life, and I will do my utmost to help you and serve you professionally and honorably."

"I appreciate it Bernhard."

As always, the food was perfectly prepared.

"Would you like an after-dinner beverage, sir?"

"A beer would be great."

A minute later, Bernhard brought the beer along with Mike's laptop. "I thought you might want to prepare for your meeting with the board tomorrow, sir."

"You thought right, Bernard." Am I that predictable? The agenda for the meeting was the usual:

1. Research and development, and the new product pipeline.

2. The DOJ threatening HA with anti-trust litigation, as usual.

3. Market development report.

4. The shareholder meeting coming up in 3 months.

5. Jack Willoughby's efforts to remove me as CEO.

None of it concerned Mike, but all of it bored him. Not for the first time, he thought about stepping down as CEO. The problem was, although Mike was bored, he was an exceptionally good CEO. He heard through the grapevine that if Mike stepped down, Willoughby and his cronies on the board would try to sell HA to one of the "Magnificent Seven," making them instant multimillionaires. The final decision on selling HA rested with Mike, though, because of his majority ownership of special class stock shares. More money held little interest for him; how many more billions do I need?

Mike's actual concern was for the hundreds of employees who have been with HA from the beginning, who would likely lose their jobs if a Google or Microsoft took over or bought HA. He didn't know Willoughby's motivation or endgame unless it was strictly an ego-driven power-play. Mike smiled, thinking that he could remove Willoughby as president of HA. Although Willoughby wasn't bad at his job, Mike was tired of his condescension, lack of respect, and constant little digs. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of getting rid of Willoughby.

It was 8:00. "Do you need me for anything else, sir?"

"No, Bernhard. Thanks. Have a good evening."

"Thank you, sir. You as well."

There was a Mets game on TV. Mike remembered well the last time he went to a ballgame. It was right after HA went public. Even though he had a baseball cap on pulled low over his face, a sharp-eyed reporter recognized him. For the rest of the game, reporters badgered him, people wanted to talk to him and get his autograph. Mike did his best, but to a shy 23-year-old sudden billionaire, it was overwhelming, so he left the game in the 5th inning and hadn't been to one since.

Mike watched the Mets game, which they won in extra innings. Maybe this will be their year, but as a long-time fan, he had learned never to get overoptimistic when it came to the Mets. It was 12 midnight when the game ended, so he went to bed. Lying there, trying to fall asleep, Mike thought back to his strange, terrifying experience on the mountain. Whatever it was, he knew it was more than a vision or hallucination.

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Mike thought he heard a voice. It was a woman's voice, a deep contralto that was soothing, that wiped his doubts and stress away. He felt a compassion and understanding that was beyond his experience, which was beyond this world. "Sleep well, Michael. We will soon meet. I will protect you."