I was horribly, violently sick, expelling a succession of foreign bodies much more alien to me than anything I had encountered so far. The experience was so weird, so utterly unusual, that I barely felt a part of it, separating from myself and watching as this other collapsed, heaving and vomiting a multicolored mess across the white ground. Even during my worst reactions to a clam allergy, I had never seen such things come from myself, and wouldn't believe they could come from another until I witnessed a similar scene a couple of years later.

Suddenly, I was thrust back into myself, bursting into physical sensation. The last of the stuff poured out in a torrent as a hacking cough burned through my chest and throat. I felt like the wind had been knocked from me in a powerful rugby tackle, and I squeezed the person's hand I was holding as I fought to catch my breath. The taste in my mouth was disgusting.

"It has almost passed," the soothing voice said. It was the Prophet, Kodahr. It was his hand I held.

"What the…" I managed, before another coughing fit took me.

"It is from the Welcome," he said. "An extreme reaction, but not unprecedented. We will have to adjust the itinerary."

I released his hand and spat out more crap, shocked by the foulness of these stinking, rainbow blobs, but already starting to experience the wonderful relief which follows a vomiting session. There is nothing worse than confronting the inevitability of the thing, and nothing better than passing through it.

I slowly pushed myself up, sitting back on my heels as the room returned to my vision. I, Kodahr and his two assistants had been making our way to what the Prophet called an orbital, a far, far smaller craft which would take us to the Mekeer's home planet, Yenaa, the misty, purple world I'd spotted earlier. We'd been navigating a particularly busy stretch of hallway when I'd started to feel queasy, and as we passed through a silver panel, the explosion had come.

The room was small and white, similar to all the others I'd seen. A woman in half profile sat at a black console off to the side, running her hands across its surface as the planet Yenaa rotated in her screen, a network of shapes set around it. She became aware that I was watching her and briefly looked over with a shy smile, before returning to her work. I was struck by the purity of her pale white beauty, the shining black hair, and the full red lips. A flush of color came to her cheeks, and then quickly faded away. I felt my own face redden as I thought of the outburst she had just witnessed.

I was feeling much better now, making an unusually rapid recovery. The pain in my chest had just about passed, my breathing was regular, and the awful taste no more than a fast retreating memory. I couldn't resist inspecting my dire product, but when I looked down, there was nothing there. Just the spotless white ground.

"Come," Kodahr said, helping me to my feet, "the orbital is here."

A panel slid open and the four of us walked through, I stealing a glance at the woman before the door slid shut and she disappeared from view. A smaller panel opened ahead, a short way down a dimly lit hallway with dark metallic walls and a black, rubbery floor. We stepped through the panel and into the orbital, a slim, gently curving white oval with two straight columns of paired black chairs and large windows looking out into space. It was a fairly tight fit, with only enough room for 20 passengers. We were greeted by a friendly young man in uniform, who introduced himself as the pilot. He nodded deeply to the Prophet, in the manner of the hooded, before wishing us a pleasant flight and disappearing through a panel at the front of the ship. The four of us took our seats, I joining Kodahr in a row at the front, as the assistants moved to the rear. There was no one else on board.

Sitting by a window, I turned and looked out at a fleet of twinkling spaceships flying by. There were hundred of them, in various sizes. It was hard to tell, but most of them seemed to have a smooth, oval shape; others had harder edges, with what looked like turrets, and other extensions.

There was a slight jolt as we took off, or separated, or whatever it was as we disengaged from the main craft. With a gentle, sweeping turn, Yenaa and its two moons moved into view, the planet appearing less purple than before. I looked across to the windows on the other side to catch only the briefest glimpse of Prime, a flash of metal as we suddenly accelerated and powered away. I returned to the windows on my side, watching Yenaa move along them before it, too, was gone.

"The purple mist is our atmosphere," Kodahr said. "It is a living thing, watching over the planet, protecting us. And responding to us, too, in its shade and form. The spiritual sects have various names for it; I prefer that it remain "un-termed". It is invisible from the surface."

I looked out a little while longer before returning to him. I was amazed that even at such close range; I couldn't see a thing inside his hood beyond the blackness. I wanted to ask him about it, but thought it would be inappropriate. I thought I felt him smile.

"In the meeting room," he said, "during the Welcome, a procedure was called which helps to ease a visitor's transition to our world. We use it on all of our human guests. It produces a sort of barrier, or shield, subtly dividing you from everything around you, so that things seem less strange. The shield also allows you to understand and speak our language. As with much of our technology, the procedure has an organic quality which renders it not entirely controllable. Sometimes this can lead to unfortunate reactions, such as yours."

"I feel fine now," I said.

"Yes, I know. The shield has returned. You will have less need of it as you continue to visit us, as your chip's embed becomes more secure."

He turned away and looked straight ahead, I returning to the window and watching black space shift into purple as, I assumed, we entered Yenaa's atmosphere. A distant thought appeared somewhere, but was gone the moment I could think to look for it. The orbital accelerated again, diving down through the purple and bursting into blue. We made a stomach-wrenching turn to the right, flying through a white mist of clouds and back into blue before leveling out and continuing a more gradual descent. I'm not sure what I'd expected - if anything - but I was surprised to look down and see ground and water, snow-capped mountains overlooking a great blue ocean which sparkled in the sun.

"I'm afraid we won't be landing," Kodahr said, as I watched the ground draw closer. My eyes settled on one of the smaller mountains, its base seeming to glow with a pinkish tinge. "We rarely do on the first visit, and certainly won't given your reaction.' He waited a moment, and then said: "Do you see the color?"

"Hmm?"

"The mountain. Do you see the pink color?"

"Yes, I see it."

"Good. That's very good. Not everyone can on the first visit."

We dove down towards the mountain, turning and making a long pass across it, during which I saw that the pink wasn't a part of the mountain at all, but rather something which floated in front of it, a sort of giant, semi-transparent pink cube which shimmered in a way which reminded me of the Prophet's robe.

"What is it?" I asked, turning to him.

"It is one of the palaces. There are seven in total, each positioned at a key multidimensional Vortex. Together they form a pattern we call Qedin. It is the source of our energy, both within this world of the physical, and those beyond. I had hoped to show you all of them today, but again, it would seem prudent to limit your exposure."

"A palace? Do people live in that thing?"

"Oh no. It's not what you humans think of as a palace. It is much more beautiful than that."

The orbital turned and began to rise; soon making a steady climb back through the sky, back through the white and into the purple, and then we were back in black again. I turned to the Prophet, who was watching me.

"There are many roles to be played in the Behehn," he said. "You will see this as you meet with the others. Your work will derive from three points of the First Tier: Creation, Observation and Integration. Your role is to create, and observe reactions; and also to observe, and create in reply. Many circles are made; you will find the connections. There is great power in these forms and how they conjoin. It is the power of Qedin."

He reached inside his sleeve and withdrew a slim, clear object, which he offered to me. It was the size of a playing card, though thicker, with a black rectangle floating in the middle. It was heavier than I expected, and seemed to be vibrating slightly.

"When you return to Earth," he said, "use this object for your meditation."

I turned it around in my hand and the vibration seemed to grow stronger. "Use it how?"

"However you like. Hold it, stare at it, hide it under your pillow. Just do whatever feels right to you, and you will start to see your first mission. You will see the sequence, which has already come. It is important work, but really just a preparation. A procedure, if you like. You will call it TELEPORT."

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