Polestar
A House in the Suburbs
The news ran their ever-constant barrage of information in the living room. The room was dark, the lights were off, and the space was devoid of human life. The television broadcasted its programming in a monolog. With no one to observe and much less comprehend the conversation it carried with itself, the programming rolled on unnoticed. From the outside of the house, coming from the center window, one could see the ever-flashing blues and shadows of the living room. The window to the right of this blue and white spectacle shown a vibrant yellow. Now, however, the only shadows seen were the swift progress of a shape that passed from one side of the room to the next.
The kitchen smelled as any other kitchen would at this time of the night, welcoming and alluring, that is, if one dared to venture within. Sounds of many different devices and a conversation attempted over these noises drowned the broadcast in the adjacent room. That person in the room, holding that particular conversation, resembled a person one might have met once or maybe twice in their lifetime and found it hard to point out where they had met. In reality, we’ve never met this person, but only vaguely wished we had. The dream person we conjured up within in our heads, which upon our arrival home would be cooking for us, or sometimes baking for the children their favorite dessert because they were well aware that only THEY could get away with it. That person who we had lost a long time ago and always wanted to express our gratitude too, or even that one person we could just never get around to saying, “Hi, how are you?”
Above the first story of this house, a window directly above the living room window suddenly erupts into light and just as swiftly descends into darkness. Then the window near the stairs between the bottom and top floor flickers into soft incandescence to just as softly be shut into gloominess.
Within the kitchen, the previous volume seemed to have abated and in its place lay a conversation with soft and gentle tones. The sound of the television set forcefully makes its way into the space that was occupied by the clicks, clanks, and dings of the kitchen appliances. Sensing the stillness of the air around her the woman’s conversation starts drawing to a closing. Serenely, the figure making his way from the second floor emerges into the room. The face of the man is somber, pale, and somewhat aged as he appears through the threshold of the kitchen door. Softly, yet his heart pounding, he intones a remark to the figure inside the kitchen. The phone falls from the woman’s ear hitting and recoiling from the table where her elbows had been pressed against until finally hitting the kitchen floor.
Rings and chimes race toward unreceptive ears as the oven announces it is done for the night. Noises run and spin through the air; furthermore a loud siren whistles from a police vehicle that accelerated past this very house, as well as the rowdy engine of a vehicle that headed in the opposite direction with a very unconcerned passenger en-route towards a not so distant, but silent park. All this fell as if on deaf ears upon the couple in the house. The air lay suspended and the couple moved towards the entrance of the house.
Movement in the Night
A slight movement stirs the stillness of the night, and suddenly everything is lit to near blindness. Atop the shadows of a skyscraper, on its very edge, stands a dark figure. On the streets below, a gathering crowd slowly gains momentum and grows. Curious bystanders stop their daily routines and face skywards — mesmerized — looking at the highest peak of the building where the lights now point.
This, now numerous, crowd stirs back and forth as the police diligently set up barricades working to slowly repulse the crowd away from the building.
The figure throws himself off building’s ledge. The crowd below freezes in exalting incredulousness; they step back with a collective gasp. The noise of rapid conversation and screams of pleading come to an all too expected and sudden stop.
This apparition no longer filled the space it had once taken in the heavens near the skyscraper. At this point, those on the floor might wonder, “Can it be that my eyes are deceiving me? At that altitude, it is impossible to point out any solid object clearly.”
Awkwardly, perplexed, the crowd shifts into that period when one is too petrified, mortified, or even stupefied to move, accept, or acknowledge that there no longer exists a reason to stay put. Out of this collection of strangers, this enigmatic group of nobodies, one figure moves from the center and slowly pushes these dumbfounded individuals out of his or her way to find an exit.
The figure slowly emerges from the growing multitude as the noise of chatter and conversation starts up again. This dark figure, which one might begin to associate with indifference, creates enough of a divide between the crowd and itself that once more traffic is seen flowing normally in this city’s clogged arteries. The person disappears into a vehicle.
The Elevators are Stalled
That siren, which was ignored in one house, was heard in many other houses within this neighborhood. Past the schools and over the bridges, the glimmer of its lights shown on as the vehicle sped through nearing its destination. The tenure of the vehicle’s cries almost explosively collided with that of the many other enigmatic disturbances arising from the city.
Officer Charles drove steadily and patiently almost as if avoiding the scene that he was rushing to. As if by a passing coincidence a vehicle with the passenger heading away from the scene, now arrived at the desired destination far from the place the officer dreaded unbeknownst to himself.
Spotlights glared at the empty rooftop of a skyscraper in midtown. The crowd now dispersed ever so slowly and thinned even further by the time the officer arrived. The radio in is his vehicle buzzed continuous instructions as he made his way between the crowds. Perennially, the vehicle came to a stop and with calculated movements the officer reached for the door handle, pulled it, and opened the door; with the same deliberateness, the officer stepped outside. Behind him, the door closed with the force of the wind. He was ready to go home, had he just started his shift his mood would have been comparatively different, but already he had worked a full shift, therefore the last thing he needed this night was an event that the media had already made into a spectacle.
The officer stood facing the crowd almost immersed by the collection of events of this evening; this would be an assignment he hoped would end as unexpectedly as it had begun. Slowly reacting he became aware that someone was screaming his name, “Officer Charles… Officer Charles, you’re needed at the entrance of the building.” It was his radio clipped to the side of his chest.
Curious bystanders stood chitchatting as to the abnormality of the night. Officer Charles made his way through the crowd and appeared through the entrance of the building. To pass within, he moved one of the barricades holding the innocent onlookers at bay.
Dressed in the uniform he wore daily for the last five years he turned his face skywards and saw the same thing everyone else saw, the city’s dark cloudy night’s orange haze. The familiar faces in uniform around him all looked preoccupied at work with one or more tasks. Except for its uppermost floor the building had been thoroughly evacuated.
“The elevators are stalled, take the north stairwell and climb to the one hundred and fourteenth floor. Sergeant Truman needs someone to help him unlock the door he is almost through, he needs back-up. Apparently somethings going on up there, but he, I repeat, he has not explained. Truman sounds almost erratic, and no one else up there has responded.” The all too familiar voice from the walkie talkie speaks clearly and crisp, but almost too rapidly to be understood.
As the officer entered the building, from the far distant suburbs a red light lit the sky for a second, this occurrence passed unnoticed by all except by two other individuals within that suburb.
Officer Charles questions several aspects of this order, but refuses to consider any other alternative. The climb was exhausting and almost a test to his endurance, but nevertheless, he ascends at a rapid pace. As this man draws closer to the one hundred and fourteenth floor the dim lighting of the stairwell becomes brighter and a red hue appears.
“Sergeant Truman!” The police officer screams almost alarmed, “Sergeant Truman, is everything fine in there!”
There was no answer. Office Charles climbs the final steps to the 114th floor.
The approach is as sundrily quiet as the streets below are loud. The red hue of this monotone light compared to the indifferent tint of the exit signs that the Officer had seen in floors below. Blindingly and holding on to the stair guard he does everything he can to reach the Sergeant, but it is already too late.
16.285714
On Aaron Wilburn Street stood the house with only two windows lit, one window that of the kitchen with its bright yellow, the other a pale blue that of the living room. Though the house looked as if change had not come to it in many a moon, though its structures and walls looked steady and unyielding, it was no longer the same. In reality, it was drastically different; the structure lay unchanged, but within, the internal makeup had been completely disembogued.
The kitchen lights flickered as these two figures stared intently at each other. An expression of pain surfaced on their faces as quickly as the desert rains flood the dry earth. The noise of the television broadcast was the only sound that could be heard all throughout the household.
“It has begun, they are here…” The words rang in the mind of the middle age female figure.
“Lese-majesty…” Quietly the older male repeated.
Together in a brisk harmonic maneuver both of these individuals walked before the television set. They made no effort to light the darkness in this living room, and furthermore made no effort to strengthen the sound of the news broadcast. One might assume they were as indifferent to the ongoing events being broadcast, as they were to the lack of lighting in the room.
Effortlessly the female raised her hand and slightly gestured at the door. The male observed this signal, slowly lowered his head as if contemplating an alternative. Not finding any but to the one unarticulated, he walked in the direction the female pointed. The female followed closely behind.
The lights in the Kitchen, the television set, and the kitchen appliances all remained energized. The couple, as they could very well be called, stepped out to their porch, walked down the seven steps to the sidewalk, and turned away from the city. Briskly both walked deeper into the suburbs of this neighborhood.
The streetlights were neither high enough nor bright enough to light the street very accurately. The male and female figures continued their walk without conversation or pause. They did not look behind them as they left their house door open, or electricity on. They did not hesitate to cross the vehicle that belonged to the house they had abandoned without a single glance. They followed their course until arriving at a gloomy and seldom visited park. This park was one of those encrusted in a neighborhood for no other reason than to state the obvious, the city we live in has no real greenery or much less semblance of anything nature might offer. Overhead a sign hung, as these two strange figures traversed below it, reading Joseph Calloway Lea Park.
The instant that these two individuals crossed the entrance they made a sudden right turn and approached an old Sitka Spruce tree. The two walked until they reached the Sitka, both synchronically touched the tree with the back of their palms. This touch continued on the tree as they walked half its circumference. At the exact half of the circumference of this Sitka, that is to say at 16.285714 feet, both disappeared. Within less time than any human device account for two red flashes lit the space near the tree and flew high into the dark night sky. Then a slight reddish drizzle fell around the tree and only just within the park.
The two were gone.
Red Light
The flicker of electricity was brief, and the officer on the on the one hundred and fourteenth floor of this building would have never calculated that there were exactly seven consecutive outages during these events.
The red light shown through the window on the door. Officer Charles hesitated somewhat as he approached this luminescent threshold.
“Truman, Truman!” Calling out his name seemed utterly ridiculous at this time, but the only appropriate thing Officer Charles could do.
The man’s voice echoed down the flights of steps, but no response was heard. Slowly, but defiantly the Officer approached the door’s little window. The radio buzzed at his side but would they, whoever was calling for him, believe what he saw. Did this scene make any sense to himself? No. Nor did it make sense to those below him. The light threw its red hue upon everything in the room behind the door, and Officer Charles rubbed his eyes slowly. Red light glared within the room, but in the center of the room, could it be, could he be seeing two figures inside. The moment to act came, and the officer placed his hand on the handle.
As if by a passing coincidence, the handle lay unlocked, the door opened, and the red shining light withdrew itself.
Activated
Silent and bewildered Officer Charles Stood in the center of the room contemplating the empty furniture that lay tossed on the ground. A statement had been obtained, and his plain derelict answers left the Department Head wanting more. Simply put Charles had very little to offer, only the few events he had contemplated, and that was not merely enough.
The room slowly cleared as did the streets below the building. This would be one of those events the news would broadcast for several days, if not weeks. Time passed and the Officer stood eyes fixed on the center of the room.
“Charles, it’s time to leave,” said the voice of an officer in Charles’ unit.
Officer Charles turned his head for a moment to respond to his co-worker. The co-worker held the door as if waiting for Charles to come with him. Officer Charles face responded for him, he would follow later and alone. The door shut close as Charles was left by himself, turning his sight once more to the center of the room he suddenly froze as stiff as a tree in the dead heat of summer.
A shimmering shape lay on the floor in the center of the room, the object was crystal clear and shaped like a nine-pointed, three-dimensional star. Upon close inspection the object was not completely transparent, from the tip of the highest corner a red dot could be distinguished. In awe of this object, the Officer was drawn forward to touch it, grab it, the object could have easily fit in the palms of both his hands. Officer Charles bent down and extended his hand, and his finger slid from the center of the star object to the red light. The surface was smooth, clean, almost like glass but different. The Officer’s finger came to the edge, and as it did, the Officer pulled it back. The star object disappeared; the man brought his finger within eyesight and saw a dot of blood. He had pricked his finger and blood slowly came out. A dot fell from his finger and cautiously made its way to the floor; before it collided, Officer Charles lay unconscious on the floor.
The Polestar
The glimmer of the distant stars swelled admiration within the heart. The night was as barren of man-made light as the Earth could have possibly been for many millennia. Trees swayed and hummed as if all whistling the same tune, a distant melody unheard for centuries in any other part of the world. The mountains that hid much of the surrounding landscape glimmered in the ever-vigilant light of the stars above.
Those mountainous peaks rose slightly jagged and outward into the mysterious beyond. The valley’s soft grass served as an elaborate patchwork of blues and greens that filled the area with an undulating ocean indistinguishable to the eye. A creek ran from the north down the mountain range and was finally swallowed up by a small and dark lake that engulfed much of the center of the valley.
Near the center of this lake stood an almost impossibly carved island. Sixteen equally tall and equally thick Sitka Spruce trees surrounded this island. The trees were magnificent in their appearance like ancient druids swaying in the light wind. Towards the center of the island among grass and shrubbery a man lay on his back, facing the stars. Consciousness comes to him as if in a dream slowly and awkwardly. The man opens his eyes and does not recognize the sky above him, the constellations have melted into something he had never seen before. Standing with great trouble, silently inhaling, he looks around at the surrounding environment.
As he walks to the edge of the water, this dark figure made more noise then any heard within this enclave for many centuries. Everything that this man perceived was new, yet known to him, and exploring the tiny island revealed something that he could not pronounce but his countenance bore the expression of tranquil inner knowledge.
Walking cautiously to the center of the island, the man paused in acknowledgment at finding an object floating silently at eye level. The object stood in the very spot he had stood when first he had woken. Although the wind made its demand upon the object that resembled a star, it continued to hover unmoved.
Dilatorily, the star object began a trajectory away from the north of the island, where both entities temporarily resided. Moving silently the man followed. Each movement to the man felt eternally calculated each step as if the floor would open below him. The star object guided him to a mound of ivy and leafs, but as suddenly as the star object appeared the ivy and leafs had gone.
The man’s astonishment came not from the sudden appearance of a structure of hardened glass, but that it had not been there before. The wind had not changed, but the song the trees now sang had ever so slightly made an adjustment. The man walked close to the object floating ahead of him and there was a moment of terrible insight as he moved his hand to examine the object. Before contact was made the object had dissipated, and the glass doors of the structure had opened.
The man had not blinked, the wind remained unchanged, but the door now lay open and the object was gone. With little hesitation this man walked into the structure and disappeared within the reddish tint of the Cadmium MonoCrystal. The transparent doors once more lay close, but what this man did not notice was that outside this structure, and for that matter, outside this island, a rain of reddish tint fell on the ground and water droplets 16.285714 millimeters apart from each other at 16.285714 of a second fell on the ground.
The walls glowed in the diaphaneity of its surface. Walking down the stairway he noticed the differences as the layers in age of the earth changed. The cerise lambency of the walls, steps, and ceiling lit his way and down he walked without effort or will. After what seemed to this man like hours of walking down crystalline stairs he disappeared into a mist at the bottom of the stairwell.
His arms lay outstretched slowly walking in a blinding milky white mist. As this man had emerged from the pale mist, another shape arose ahead.
“Officer Charles?”
Office Truman
Two figures appeared in the center of the room, both wearing white robes and their faces somberly facing opposite from each other. The north door opened, and a police officer walked into the room. Both figures in the center of the room faced the incoming officer. The question was posed immediately upon the entrance of Sergeant Truman.
“Do you understand… are you aware?”
Officer Truman stood bewildered. No, he did not understand and much less was he aware of what was going on. The questions should be directed at the two strange individuals standing on the top floor of an evacuated building.
“Put your hands over your head and drop any weapons you might be carrying,” Officer Truman’s ordered. He ignored the previous question ignored, rules of engagement would be set by the officer.
The two figures now faced each other. Their unchanged expression showed no signs of obedience. Without looking at the officer, as if he did not exist, they spoke to each other.
“Aelit Ofbath, the subject does not understand,” spoke the subdued male.
“Akaky Manoflaw, the subject is not aware,” responded the austere female with complete ambiguity.
Quietly Truman held his gun up at the figures awaiting a response to his order.
“Lower the crude device and step forward,” Ordered Aelit Ofbath as she faced Truman.
The officer released the safety, and prepared to fire. Without warning the gun was slapped off Truman’s grip by an invisible force. At the same instance, an object appeared floating between Truman and the two white robed figures.
“What is the meaning of this, who—or what—are you two and what is that thing?” Truman now obviously agitated screamed at the woman and man. He reached for his pepper spray.
The three dimensional star shaped object began to throw a crimson light on the floor and the red light soon flooded the room entirely. Akaky Manoflaw walked towards Sergeant Truman and the star object. His features unmoved by the display of incandescence.
Aelit Ofbath had disappeared and the only two figures that remained were Truman and Akaky.
“Make contact with the Cadmium Crystal. There is one, a contact, that will guide you.”
This order was soft in its ebullience, but deep within his soul Truman understood it was to be obeyed. Thus, with subdued obedience, he stepped closer to the Cadmium Crystal, and lay his hand upon the surface of the star object.
“Truman, Truman!” He heard his name from afar called.
The lights blazed around him, and he could not distinguish anything but the different variants of red. The sound of his name ebbed further out into his past, as his present grew further forward in his mindset.
The Contact
The fog cleared. Truman stood dressed in a white robe that buttoned from the bottom up on the right side of his body; the material was elusive to the eye and felt textureless. Truman’s feet were bare. He realized that his clothes were similar to those of Manoflaw and Ofbath.
Truman heard a voice; a voice that belonged to another human.
“Truman.”
After prolonged pause he heard his name once more.
“Truman.”
Clear and resounding the voice came from within the dispersing fog. Shaping itself as it emerged from the fog, Truman recognized the face.
“Officer Charles,” a bewildered pause, “are you the contact I already know?”
There stood Charles dressed in his work uniform and while the fog cleared behind him Truman noticed Officer Charles’ eyes glimmering with a faint red. Was it a hangover? No. The red light was shimmering. It sent a shiver through Truman that passed through him like a cold breeze in a warm summer night.
“Do you know why we are here?” asked the solemn voice. The eeriness in his voice resounded off the walls. Truman did not respond.
For the first time since his appearance and while pondering about this question Truman examined his surroundings. The material that made up the walls was a milky translucent polymer which cast a white glow upon the passage. Gradually the fog passed away further revealing at both ends of the passageway a set of stairwells, one leading up and the other down. Outside the milky translucency of the walls a watery darkness lay beyond, where many moving shapes drifted to and fro.
“Through these final moments, my duty is to be your guide,” Charles words rang through the air with a stinging echo, “I am the one you know, the two that are missing you will not meet. Their cores have since been weaved deep within the Cadmium Crystal.”
“Will I, in due time discover the question… and this so called answer?” Truman’s voice resounded gently off the crystal walls. “Will I,” he paused, “have the opportunity to live?”
Charles’ eyes looked steadily past Truman as he responded, “behind you lies the question. Your life experiences will provide the answer.”
Deliberately, Truman turned his body to face what lay behind him. The Cadmium Crystal blocked the passage between a stairwell that fell deeper into the Earth and Truman’s progress.
“You have failed to understand. You are defective,” Charles whispered but it echoed throughout the room.
Truman turned suddenly, and from Charles’ eyes a crimson light flooded the passageway. The crimson light blinded Truman.
“The Cadmium Crystal has informed me that you are no longer needed as you do not have the answer.”
“How should I have an answer if your question is unknown?” Truman, turning back around to face the object, screamed at it,“you are defective!”
Having screamed, Truman lunged himself at the Star Object, and laid his hands upon it. The Cadmium Star did not resist and was easily handled. Truman hurled its red-tinged surface upon the translucent wall shattering the Star object, and the wall it collided with.
Water poured in the room, the sheer pressure forced both men down the staircase followed by the gushing water. Hurled down, the two men felt that the fall would not end and for what seemed like an eternity of time continued their fall. Awash and flustered as they held onto there lives they saw the end of the fall lay near. The wall that stopped them was of the same material as everything else, translucent and ethereal.
The surge came to a sudden stop and the water drained as if it had some invisible escape. With no other force to hold them up both men collapsed on the floor. As the men awkwardly sat up they noticed that beyond the see-through walls the watery darkness had vanished and was replaced by a deep thick red fluid. The only difference in this new room was the constant sounds of sudden creaks and scattered rumbles.
On the floor the two men lay sitting and breathing hard, a red glowing liquid beyond the translucent walls below, above, and around them threw harsh crimson shadows on their faces; One man in police apparel, the other in a white robe. Over both these two individuals drifted an object they had come to know as the Cadmium Crystal.
Fire and Water
Truman came to consciousness first; he did not stand but rather sat transfixed upon the magma swirling outside the walls of the hallway they were in. After several minutes, Charles awoke and looked straight upwards as he slowly sat up. The Star object was now a milky white—it did not move—it did not make a noise. Finally, Truman and Charles stood up slowly and painfully. Aware only of the object, as if awaiting judgment.
Suddenly, Charles fell to the floor and the Cadmium Crystal was no more. While Charles fell Truman darted towards him grabbing hold of his shoulder before he landed on the floor. Blood ran down Charles’ left nostril, his heartbeat was weak. Truman pumped his hand on Charles’ sternum. Once, twice, thrice he pumped but nothing. Again, without stopping Truman labored over his only connection to his past. Nothing, again, nothing, again, nothing, again. He lifted Charles’ head up and passed his hands over his dark ruffled hair. Tears welled up in his eyes and, finally, came crashing upon his cheeks.
The two figures looked particularly strange to anyone observing this scene from afar. Charles laid lifeless on the floor lit by the dark red glow of the magma outside the translucent walls. Truman knelt next to the man who had originally come to his aid. Truman ignored the creeks and bellows of the structure while he silently sobbed. He knew very well that his death was soon to come.
A sudden gasping for air from Charles startled Truman and made him stand abruptly.
“Quick,” coughed Charles and stood up on his elbows, “at the center of the wall, are two indentations. Go press your middle and index finger, then move your hand sixteen inches down.”
Bewildered, Truman stood frozen.
“What are you waiting for, go.”
This time blood trickled down Charles’ mouth. His voice came out rasping and losing its force.
“Go… Go, this structure will not hold up much longer,” Charles’ energies exhausted, the man fell on one elbow and attempted to point past Truman.
Truman turned around towards the wall and in a few quick and light steps he reached it, found the indentations, and did as he was instructed.
“Nothing, what are you talking about?” Truman said as he faced towards the man on the floor.
“Without moving your fingers further, press down slightly, and…” As Charles spoke he collapsed on the floor.
The wall lit itself white then red. As Truman turned to help Charles he was consumed by the opening. Charles was lifted by the force of the suction and he himself was pulled into the opened darkness. The light of the magma room grew dimmer as both men were pulled deeper into this space devoid of light. The red light disappeared and as an oppressive darkness surrounded them along. The screaming of the wind forced Truman to cover his ears.
Darkness
“What happened?” Truman uttered when the wind abated. “Are you there? Are you awake? Something seems to have caught us?”
“Yes, I am conscious, but I have vertigo. I’m sorry,” Charles muttered sincerely.
“Can you explain what has happened? You have not been much of a guide.”
Charles’ head fell in the darkness unnoticed by Truman, and he began, “the truth is before the appearance of the Cadmium Crystal in the magma room, I had little direction myself. I was going through the motions but it was the Crystal that drove me forward, which spoke for me. It controlled me like a puppet.
“Then something happened.
“The Cadmium Crystal informed me that your connections were established in the Water Observatory.”
As Charles spoke Truman patted the floor attempting to discover what they lay on. The surface felt smooth to the touch. He lifted his head to look around but he was disappointed to find total darkness.
“Understand what!” Truman shouted in frustration.
Understand another language, aliens, what? How do you understand something you are unaware of? Who are all these people? What is this thing we are floating on? Where are we?
“In the magma room,” Charles said, “the Cadmium Crystal transplanted knowledge in me. How? I do not know, but you saw my body’s physical reaction. My body shut down every system it could, to the point of death, so that it could process, store, and organize all the information the crystal transplanted.
“You do not understand because you cannot understand. The problem lies deep within your subconscious psyche, where something has failed to activate.
The five of us were conceived to live unnoticed, to walk unknown, and experience things uninhibited.
The question is simple enough:
How is it to happen?
The equation that created the Cadmium Crystal allows for many things but not for the answer. There is an equation for a perpetual order. The cadmium element holds 48 electrons but if these electrons were to be separated into single entities they would differ greatly from the electrons found in other elements. In other words, if you were to separate any cadmium element to its basic makeup you would discover a path towards the quantum plane. This discovery was made by the creators of the Cadmium Crystal. They call themselves the Four.
It all amounts to the creation of the Cadmium Crystal itself allowing them, the Four, to travel unabated, to move without destroying, to discover without killing. That is the difference between the Four kind and the Surface kind. The Cadmium Crystal acts as a conduit through dark matter, in this order reversing the natural state of matter and allowing us to travel anywhere, anytime.
You have already met two of the Four, Aelit Ofbath and Akaky Manoflaw. The Cadmium Crystal required their help to track you as it had lost its connection with you.
My purpose was a simple one, to live. I expect the same can be said about your purpose. That purpose, yours that is, the Cadmium Crystal allowed me to comprehend, the understanding of it, though, was not transferred.”
Truman stood now, the darkness continued, if his eyes could be seen you would not be surprised in finding an uncomprehending blank stare.
At last Truman spoke, “why were ‘conceived’, do you know? Can you guess about your purpose?” his tone was unemotional.
“Yes,” Charle’s responded followed by silence.
Lost
As his silence did not abate, Truman stood up and listened to the howling wind. He waited for an answer.
Truman asked, “shall we stay here in this darkness and is there anywhere we can go?”
The total darkness was taking its toll upon him. He could not see Charles who lay but a foot or two away.
“Truman do not move more than a couple of feet. If you do will you’d find an unpleasant surprise.”
Charles quick reply worried Truman.
Truman stood still; he would not know where they were for many years to come.
“Are we high?”
“It is not the height you should be worried about, but you will see for yourself in a moment.”
That response perplexed Truman further, could it be that he would never understand any of this. The temperature was moderate, the air was stale smelling but whipping past them fast, the darkness was overwhelming.
“The purpose?” Truman’s question was more of a command, but he yearned to understand this complex conundrum.
After a long pause, Charles said, “‘Your muffin looks good!’ My mother would say to me before she would grab it playfully, pretend to bite it and give it back.
“You see Truman, my purpose, maybe our purpose was to live among them.
“Them? The Surface People, and again who are they? They are those that dwell on Earth that destroy their planet with every other move they make. The ones who get into a machine to make their lives easier but do not care if this is destroying the planet they inhabit. Or how it affects the countless other living organisms on Earth. Those that kill each other when they find no other method of communication. That stand by and see others in pain, hunger, or disease and rapidly fire a sadden expression, but are too busy to bother.
“My mother would say, ‘This life is not easy, but it is the only life we are given. Learn… learn from yourself, learn from others, learn from the suffering of the weak.’
“I thought I understood those words, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.
“When I was nine we traveled to the Kennedy Space Station. I wanted to be an astronaut.” Charles chuckled to himself, “what small kid doesn’t? Right?
“I got away from my mother and left the designated area to watch the launch. Who would have thought that I would wonder away, everybody was consumed by this particular launch, it would be the first in many years.
“The hallways became a maze, and soon the doors would not open for me. When I tried to return, backtrack as it were, I had made a wrong turn. Walking became jogging, jogging became running, and soon I was completely lost. I could not find my way. The white halls with paintings of dead people flickered past me rapidly. The anxiety became panic, the panic led to sobs, the sobs led to tears, and I sat in a corner of a white hallway with white doors, and white ceilings, and I cried.
“I stayed for hours in the corner and in that corner I cried. The loudspeaker came on and mumbled many times, many things, and over my crying, I did not hear my name. The people began to run past the corner of the hallway, past me. More people then I remember came and went and I stayed hidden from sight because of shame.
“The hours passed.
“Finally, a young woman came by and heard a strange noise near one of the corners of the hallway. She turned and found me. The woman was petite and warm. She asked my name, and held my hand gently, ‘don’t cry, everything will be fine. Your mom is waiting for you.” Charles sighed and ended his story.
The silence devoured Truman.
“Help me stand. I want to be standing for this,” Charles touched Truman’s leg slightly to indicate where he sat.
Cavern
Inky blackness and frightening wind kept their universe for an undefined period. Charles stood with some difficulty as Truman helped him to his feet.
“What is going to happen?” Truman knew his question would remain unanswered. He understood he would need to wait, but he asked anyways.
They both stood silently waiting.
In the far distance, and almost unnoticeable, a tiny twinkle of light appeared. The hue and nature of the light was indistinguishable at this distance, but nevertheless, there it was.
Charles broke the silence, “did you notice it?” The tone of his voice seemed amazingly like giddiness.
“Notice what?” On the other hand, Truman’s voice was flat and hard.
“Look, it grows nearer!” The excitement came as a shock to Truman.
The light did, in fact, grow and it became brighter with every passing second. It glimmered red and was bright enough to think it a star in the night.
The Two men stood waiting as the light from afar neared them and became ever brighter. The light had grown in size as large and brilliant as the moon, it lay directly ahead of them. The cause of this light still remained a mystery.
For the first time, Truman noticed that they had been on a platform. This platform reminded Truman of the platform he had stood on when ManofLaw and Ofbath first appeared to him. Also, Truman noticed that they were the ones traveling. The platform moved closer to the red light, rather than the red light traveling towards them. The speed was incredible yet the movement, the tug, and any other force that might be felt were missing from this experience. Only the wind, he noted, continued to fly past them giving them any indication of movement.
The light continued to grow nearer and shine brighter but it did not hinder their vision. They could look directly at the source and its appearance was as clear and fresh as a stone, solid and imposing. The light’s brilliance lit the walls and Truman saw that they traveled through a wide cavern and steadily at great speeds they passed on and on. Jagged rocks and steatites passed them a couple of feet away as the source of the crimson light they flew grew.
Both men noticed that the platform did not slow, both knew that the platform would not slow, and both men defiantly stood facing the source of light as it approached at unimaginable speeds. Until, finally, the platform drew close enough that the light engulfed it, and without slowing its pace the platform slammed into the huge structure.
The experience was like stepping off an escalator. Truman and Charles were on the platform flying through this solid red light. Then, they were walking as red light glowed at such an extreme that neither men could tell where the other was. This light was as blinding as the darkness had been before.
Behind them a lonely platform flew away into darkness. Truman had not imagined that they now journeyed in a downwards motion and the light would be fading from below them on this occasion.
Thus they emerged, from the red glittering sun and when Truman looked about him as he held his breath in amazement. Charles’ face was serene as he looked ahead of himself. Both Men simultaneously looked above and saw that they had come from a red gloating sun. As they lowered their heads they saw through the translucent platform the world below opening up to them in a spectacle of cliffs, mountains, and building structures of heights unreached by humankind’s creation. Below them sat a valley with abundant greens, blues, and browns that splashed upon the scenery like even strokes from an artful hand.
The horizon was painted with shades of golden reds and flashy pinks. The structures nearest to them could be seen now towering overhead as they quickly approached the land below. All the buildings where composed of some type of crystallized material that seemed to darken opaque and then translucent every so often. Inhabitants could not be found going about their daily routines, and the sharp edges of the cliff threw shadows upon much of the land below.
Farther down they went until finally the platform stopped before coming in contact with the floor. The whole of the structure appeared to be a huge underground cavern, but the roof could not be seen as clouds rolled by undisturbed. Charles stepped off, Truman followed. The platform behind them shot skywards. The Cadmium Crystal stood in silent repose before them.
Disconnection
“It informs me that you are no longer needed. You are to be disconnected.”
In haste, Truman turned from side to side as if searching for an exit. The three steps he took away from the Cadmium Crystal were a forfeiture of common sense. With cold and bitter precision the Star object shot itself into Truman’s chest and merged into him.
For an instance, he stood hands wide open and in shock, face looking up at the clouds. For a moment, everything seemed paused. Charles stood unmoved to the rear of Truman witnessing what was about to unfold.
A sudden wind raced from the north southwards as if set in a rush by a late appointment, and as suddenly as it, the wind, had started it ebbed into non-existence. The rush of air was a reminder to all that time was still present, and that all was not frozen in place. From a distance, many red and white lights slowly emerged into existence. The red sun above them dimmed and faded slowly losing its luminescence. Darkness had covered the land. This darkness though was different, it was not a darkened cloudy night, nor was it a glimmering starry night. The light that remained was much less than that of a full moon’s night and far greater than of a new moon’s night. The twinkle from the heavens was altogether different from a normal starry night, and far from noticed was the disappearance of the red glowing orb that acted as the sun.
A white light now radiated from Truman’s skin; a light that at its core shimmered redder and redder until it devoured any source of whiteness that had originally appeared. The light first shot straight downwards, but rapidly cast its glow upon the whole underground cavern. Long howls from the winds were heard as they toppled buildings far away within the cavern. A rush of madness clutched everything. The Cadmium Crystal had announced, and the wind carried its message… lese-majesty…
LESE-MAJESTY
In a distant tower, two figures stood watching from the 114th floor something peculiar, even to their eyes. The figures perceived with exceptional clarity, as a normal white light appeared around two men, and suddenly it flickered red as it would normally do. The effect of this blanket of light that had been cast upon the first man unsettled the second man. As this occurred, the second man seemed to be stepping back, although the light quickly grew to envelop him also. The scene seemed to pause for a time and the light swelled and ebbed slightly. Frequently, or rather it should be said, that at every 16.285714 of a second, a white swirl developed within the red light and disappear leaving behind it the glare of expanding red hues.
Then the warning came, LESE-MAJESTY, it resounded within their heads. The Four communed. They did not know what came next. The light blinded consumed the towering structures for miles on end.
As quickly as it had occurred, it had finished and the two figures stood watching intently as their eyes readjusted to the lighting of the valley night. Both figures understood it was time but feared what came next. Two men and the Cadmium Crystal had been seconds before, now three Cadmium Crystals slowly and decisively hovered upwards towards the cavern roof. The two figures in the tower faced each other, drew their hands together, and were gone in a flash of red.
At last, the five were reunited, and so the Hidden City began to collapse. Crystal structures sundered all around as the five Cadmium Crystals set about in their final preparations and decimated all evidence of this once thriving utopia. The magma from deep within the Earth began to fill the cavern, and with a slight and unperceived movement in time and space the five Cadmium Crystals set out on their long journey towards the stars to join the Four.
FIN
