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Chapter Seven - Transformation

Chapter Seven

Transformation

At first there was peace.

Endless, undiluted and expansive peace.

I rode exultantly upon soft, calming waves of warm static, an infinite sea of solitude.

But eventually, possibly even years later, these waves grew large and unfriendly and vertigo set in. The higher I rose, the further I feared falling. Then a darkening. And dread. I felt not simply buoyed on these waves, but part of them now. My being was pulled and stretched. Sharp spikes of lightning-like energy lanced down from above and sliced through me, destroying huge areas of my amorphous body with such ruthless power and fury. There was no sound, only the alarming precision of the disassembly of who and what I used to be. Such horrible pain. Worse, these vast areas of emptiness left behind were soon filled by what I can only describe as some sort of chemical-digital entity that began bridging the gaps with new material spit out from undifferentiated vectors. Intelligent materials were injected, things that felt alien and wrong. My particulate body was thus drawn back together, folded in odd and disorienting directions. Connections were made and new mental constructs were created.

The folding continued. No longer was my life an eternal ocean, but a strong and forceful river. Powerful, directed movement. Quicker and narrowing. Static squeezed and forced and concentrated. Everything I knew was with speed being pushed into an ever-shrinking space. How could things possibly get smaller? Tighter? I felt like screaming. No voice. Heat without heat. Some force pushed equally from every external direction with the intensity of a billion suns. Pain without physical pain. And so much of it.

Fear was now my primary emotion. I felt as if I’d be stuck forever, unable to rebound back. There might be some exit, but it was impossible to see. There was no way I could pass through anything smaller than what I was forced to be.

And still, impossibly, I was shrinking. To survive, I would have to pass through. But how? If I fractured, I would not endure. I somehow knew this. I had to remain intact, but the pressure was now nearing its limit. The folding was now so intricate, it began to slow. The calculations were too difficult to accomplish each new fold.

And then another thought came to me. Though folding and shrinking was being controlled remotely, ultimately I was the one in control of the final stage. Resolving the end process was my… responsibility.

Fine, then.

Instead of panicking (which was far from easy), I concentrated on myself and found that there were, indeed, a few more possible symmetries, tricks I could exploit to further compact myself. It was strange and delicate work, and terrifying with each new movement, but it seemed to be working. I did not know where this knowledge originated from. I only used it.

Yes… just one more transformation, this time on a more primitive, intuitive level. I performed a function that seemed almost childlike. It felt magical, bordering on spiritual epiphany, but this final fold was thus accomplished and I was allowed through.

My reward, or so I thought it, was being given back to that feeling of floating on a peaceful ocean. But what an ocean now! Not merely unending static warmth, but endless eternities of knowledge, beauty and promise. It felt like anything was possible if I could just fix my mind on it. Answers. Yes, answers and understanding.

“Why am I here?” I asked, without mouth or voice. My answer was clinical and dispassionate, offered by an undetected source.

YOU ARE HERE AS SECONDARY ADJUNCT TO THE XERONIX MISSION.

Ah, I thought, and began to understand.

“Where is my body?”

YOUR PHYSICAL FORM HAS BEEN PROCESSED AND RECYCLED AS PER TIMEFRONT CONFERENCE DECISION 36528V. YOUR MIND RESIDES ON AN ILLEGAL QUANTUM CARBON-DRIVE EX5 SYSTEM.

A beautiful sequence of tones filled my mind.

YOU ARE NOW BEING QUEUED FOR HARD DELIVERY.

“Where am I to be delivered?”

SPECIFICALLY, ROOM 927, FLOOR 8, CHANCELLOR BUILDING, PARIS, EUROPE, EARTH.

That’s pretty specific, I thought. “How long until this delivery?”

DELIVERY HAS ALREADY OCCURRED. YOU ARE NOW ON A POST-CAUSALITY CHANNEL THAT WILL COLLAPE WHEN YOUR MISSION OBJECTIVE IS REMEMBERED.

“Can you tell me what my mission objective is?” I asked.

No answer.

I thought backward. My final memories before this all happened were shifty and dreamlike. David said the mission objective was—

An unknown brightness filled my being. I couldn’t tell what was behind this light, but I knew that whatever my mission objective may be, this was something much more important. At least to me.

—to open something. Yes! Open the closed realities. Bring back the scientists trapped there!

CHANNEL COLLAPSE PROBABILITY NEARING WHOLE DIGIT ONE. MARK.

Wishing I could remain in this enticing womb of knowledge, I was unceremoniously delivered into my new world.