The Mekeer: TELEPORT
by Marc Fiszman
Posted: 16:50 September 10, 2008
In this penultimate article in the Mekeer series, extraterrestrial specialist Marc Fiszman describes his first mission for the aliens: the development of the TELEPORT multidimensional transport system.
Ignition symbol for the Rectangle Trip
At first, I was sure it was a dream; outrageously vivid, but nothing more than that. It didn't take long to realise the truth of the matter.
I'd been zooming back to Prime in the orbital, eagerly anticipating my first proper view of the starship, when my head exploded with the most insane pain I'd ever known. It had started with a tickle, a vibration like the one in the library which had preceded my transport, but very quickly advancing to something much more, something much worse. Suddenly, my brain was on fire, a network of lasers slicing through me as I collapsed to the ground, clutching my head and screaming in agony. Somehow, through the wails and thrusts, the gnashing of teeth, I became aware of Kodahr above me, the warmth of his hand passing slowly across my face, whispers in some language I couldn't understand. And then I woke up in bed and it was over.
As is the way with dreams, the scenes of aliens, planets and palaces retreated the moment I opened my eyes, and by the time I'd finished preparing breakfast, they had just about gone. Considering how present I'd been, it was remarkable how soon it all disappeared.
"Use this object for your meditation," he'd said. It was the final thread which joined me to that world, the last thing which stayed in my mind. For a few brief moments, his voice was so clear - the depth, the wisdom. But I looked around and there was no object, and then no voice. It was over.
And so I returned to the world of humans, starting with the search for a new job. I'd been doing some freelance programming at the time and had greatly enjoyed the flexibility, but with work drying up, I'd resigned myself to taking a full-time position with someone else. I spent the next month looking around. With a Masters in Economics and my extensive programming background, any number of options should have been available, but nothing seemed to fit. In truth, I had no idea what I wanted to do. Things which only weeks before had driven such passion now struck me as lifeless and dull, and as I walked the cold streets of Boston, observing the people in their suits and long skirts, their dreary faces and misshapen shoulder pads, I felt a great sadness creeping over me, a terrible sense of loss.
It was then that the sequence returned, the 12-stage rectangular flow which had come in the park just before I'd been transported to Prime. As before, it seemed very familiar to me. It appeared like this:
This sequence became my constant companion. It was with me the moment I woke, inside my mind the rest of the day, and often returned in dreams which were especially bright and vivid. There was something about it which made me happy, the feeling that somehow this thing was my friend, that somehow it was watching over me. It helped to lift me out of my depression.
It was February 2003, I still unemployed, but becoming more positive. I looked around and things seemed less ugly; I could even forgive those shoulder pads, that focus on a life I'd once understood. With some savings in the bank, it wasn't essential I find a job straightaway, and so I set my search aside, giving myself over to this 12-stage sequence and the thoughts it was calling in me.
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