Meltdown Ophilion - Book One

02_REALITY

Orion struggled to draw breath. Crazy patterns swam before his eyes - shapes, colors, objects. Something moist was clinging to his leg, restricting movement. All was silent. He was no longer in the cave, he knew that. He noticed a dull glimmer of light on his right, a flicker, a flash, then a dull glimmer. Where? Fear saturated him. Insanity threatened him. He was afraid to fight and afraid to surrender – afraid to hope. He felt himself imploding; a few moments more and he would not exist. Impossible! Then he seemed to see a set of right angles to his left. Something floating in mid-air – a square – a rectangle... a door! A familiar door!

Reality began to reassert itself by degrees. His door. To the right his window – the glow of the com-zone just before sunrise. He reached down to feel his sweat-soaked sheet wrapped around his leg. He slowly raised himself to his elbows and surveyed his room as if seeing it for the first time. At this stage the other place still seemed more real; the cave, the sphere; the thing; the eyes; it's powerful message impressed upon his mind. Those things were real to him; the waking world seemed to be the dream. He still had no responsibilities here – only the instinct to survive.

He could breathe more freely. He moved his toes, looked at his naked body. Then, a collection of thoughts began migrating from the back of his brain, growing larger as they approached. One by one they declared themselves: Fel, Celli, the mrith club, work, Tur-Lam 64, envy, regret, isolation, confusion, responsibility, mom. Mom.

Yes, he was no longer being pursued by the thing; no longer in danger of being driven or drawn against his will to a place murky and obscure where not only death but oblivion awaited him. Yes! Work! he thought. I can go to work!

He had never before expressed his feelings about Tur-Lam in this way. But Tur-Lam seemed like a kind of paradise now – a safe haven of solid things.

He glanced over at his time piece which read: 28 and 20 – more than a mec-lan before sunrise, and his alarm. As much as he relished sleep, he would no more attempt to go to that state now than try to wrestle carrion away from a swamp reglar.

He realized that his muscles were not responsive – he had to force his legs to the edge of the bed. He stood, holding the wall, then staggered towards the bathroom. He saw his face in the mirror and flinched – he was almost unrecognizable. This latest dream – if it was a dream – was by far the worst. He wondered if he would physically survive one of an even greater intensity. He supposed he could; but at what point would the effect on his body and mind become too great.

These episodes had been plaguing him for two seasons - half a cenro. The treatments and therapies and drugs had had no effect, except to drain him of hope.

But not everything in that place was bad. No. There were animals – good ones. Forest. Sky. Wind. For the first time there was another person. A strangely dressed one, but a good one, he knew that. She was an ally in that world, maybe a guardian; he hoped so because he seemed destined to join her world. There seemed to be an inevitable convergence on the horizon. What else could he try? How could he protect himself from forces that stalked his sleep? How could he withstand the power of the thing?

Orion washed his face, scrubbing, splashing cold water, feeling the soothing liquid pour over his fevered skin. He ran his fingers through his hair. He took the towel, burying his face in it, breathing through it. He was returning to the real world. Almost there.

He peeked out at the reflection in the mirror and was not horrified. He began to breathe easier. He left the towel on the edge of the sink and walked back to his room. Grasping the handle by the window he turned it - raising the blinds. Kypro came into view. He gazed out through his window at the surrounding citizen towers – a forest, or maybe a canyon of massive monoliths which offered their dull glow in the Kypro pre-dawn.