Meltdown Ophilion - Book One

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Orion walked forward, unaware of his destination or purpose. He was on a flat, off-white plane that blended with the horizon. The sky overhead was dirty-white. There was not a single object of any kind to be seen. A canvas with only the base paint, hastily applied, before the artist has even formulated her ideas. There was a strange sort of deafening silence; he could hear his breathing from inside his head, but he could not hear his footfalls.

After a few seconds he caught sight of something near the horizon; a speck of color in the distance. He seemed to approach it very quickly. Presently, he stood before the same metallic sphere as in the dream he had had the night before.

The girl from the mag-way was there as well, kneeling behind the sphere. She looked up into his eyes, but this time she was not smiling. Her expression was solemn. She held his gaze for a few seconds, and although she never said a word, Orion could feel her thoughts: disappointment and grief and urgency.

Orion followed her gaze as she shifted it to the sphere. He stared at the metallic object but did not know what he should do. Orion looked up at the girl for guidance, but she had disappeared. He surveyed the world of white, but she was nowhere to be found. He bent down and touched the sphere and suddenly the world of white changed to red, as if a cloud of red had covered the entire sky in a moment and everything reflected it. From behind him, he heard a low guttural snarl.

He woke from his dream and held his breath, glancing around him. Everything was in place. He knew exactly where he was. He had a point of focus. Celli had helped him identify that. Fel was in on it, too. Whatever was happening was happening to all of them; except that he was getting the worst of it.

But I'm not alone.

This thought - this realization, produced a spike of endorphins that propelled him out of bed and onto his feet. He hurriedly put on his house pants, tripping over the fabric in his haste, and scampered through the hallway, past his mother's room, past the full length window and into the common room. He should feel something here - the continuation of the dream or at least some bizarre episode. A puppet on strings. Anything.

Nothing was out of place in his small apartment. He closed his eyes and listened; tried to sense something. Everything seemed as though it were in place, yet, Orion understood: everything had shifted, slightly.

He looked left at the timepiece on the preserver in the kitchen. 29 and 16. Still dark outside. It was only thirty-four mec-tah before his alarm would go off.

He thought about the young girl. Who is she? She looked so different form anyone I've ever seen. What was she trying to tell me? Why was she upset? Whoever she was, Orion felt that she was key to keeping him out of the sanitorium. If he at least tried to locate the sphere he might gain more control of his life; he might not slip over the edge. If he did not act, he could be lost. At what point would the doctors sign him off as not recoverable?

May as well get an early start. Maybe I'll just leave now – get ahead of the rush, walk part of the way – let my head clear.

He washed and dressed quietly, left his mom a voice note on the kitchen com, then slipped out of his apartment. The lift wasn't full, so he sat as it descended. Three mec-tah later he was on street level. He was the only one who got off there – the other eighteen people in the lift rode on to the mag-way tunnel.

The tower doors registered him as he left the building and stepped onto the street. He couldn't remember the last time he had walked to another station at this time in the morning. The peculiar sensation inside him only grew as he observed his surroundings. The pre-dawn light from the east illuminated the misty smog which hung in various layers surrounding the citizen towers. The streams of sky transports looked like giant glow worms plunging in and out of the mist; now appearing, now disappearing.