by Peter Ponzo
"And can you listen to thoughts of people on Earth? After all, we did manage to communicate with the Godships via synchronizing our thoughts, worldwide."
"Sometimes I think I can, but it's garbled."
"What about now? Can you hear anything from the planet?"
"Oh no, we're much too far away."
"Far away? We're just a few hundred feet above the ground."
David laughed, that gurgling laugh. "Gordon, my boy, we're now beyond Alpha Centauri."
I couldn’t believe it. I looked around for a window, but there were none.
"Looking for a window? That wouldn't help. We're not travelling in the normal three-dimensional space that we know and love. We're light years from Earth and to do that we have to travel in a harmonic subspace."
"Harmonic? One of those other dimensions?"
"Exactly. Every space has its harmonic counterparts, parallel spaces intimately connected to our normal space. It's like a stack of universes with ours in there along with our harmonic, nearest neighbors If we had a window and you looked out you wouldn't see anything. There is no visible light. Soon, however, we'll exit and return to normal space dimensions and you'll be able to see the constellation Centaurus up close." David gurgled again.
"How do you know all this? How did you know that we're now in some other space dimension? Are you still getting lectures from–from our hosts?"
"I'm in almost constant communication with our hosts," he said. "They tell me everything that they're doing–almost. They often ask my advice. It seems that the machines that run the ship need human input or equivalent. I think they miss their masters, if they have masters. I guess I'm a sort of surrogate."
I looked about the room we were in, expecting to see some evidence of the hosts. Nothing. However, I noticed that Susan was sound asleep, her head resting on a large napkin, on the table. I, too, was tired. This traveling faster than the speed of light takes it out of you.
"Can I take my wife and find a bed?" I asked David.
"Think it," he said.
I did and felt the room shake imperceptibly, then dissolve. Then I found myself in a bed, Susan beside me. It was almost identical to our bedroom, back home, except the colors were wrong. By now I've come to expect certain shortcomings in our hosts' techniques. Color was one of them. I looked at Susan's hand then at my own. Our thumbs were normal. That was reassuring. Susan was fast asleep so I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. I could smell her perfume: lilac. How did she manage the perfume? I lay back, inhaled and promptly fell asleep myself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Part 4.1
It seemed like a day or maybe two days before we popped out of that other space, the harmonic space we had been traveling in. It wasn't at all clear to me. Maybe we were in a parallel set of space dimensions, but David (who seemed to be so much smarter than anyone I knew) said it was our old set of space dimensions except that we usually didn't recognize any but the first three: up or down, forward or back, left or right. In all, he said, there are eleven dimensions and he thinks the extra dimensions connect us to a 'harmonic' universe–whatever that means. I have to remember to ask David if 'time' is one of those eleven. In any case, I found a window and could see darkness punctuated with stars, none of which I recognized–I did remember some constellations. The impression I got was that we were traveling rather slowly.
"Is that you, darling?" Susan was awake and, even with her hair all mussed up she looked splendid. "Can I make you some breakfast?"
"Is there a stove around, somewhere?"
"No, I just think what we want. Can't you do that Gordie?"
I couldn't believe how easily Susan had accepted this new reality. She would just think our breakfast into existence. It seemed, to her, the natural thing to do.
"Yes, of course. Can't everybody do that?" I said with a touch of sarcasm. "Just think and poof! It's there, with sugar and cream and all the condiments."
"C'mon Gordie boy. Let's enjoy this adventure while it lasts."
"You think it'll end? Do you think after we've had our little vacation they'll drop us off on Lakeshore Road?"
"Don't you?" Susan said. She was so naive. She didn't know we were a very long way from our solar system. Even light would take years to get home, to planet Earth. I think we'll wind up on some other planet. Either that or we'll spend the rest of our lives on board this godforsaken ship.
"Good morning, you two." It was David. He just walked through a wall.
"Don't you knock?" I asked, rather perturbed.
"I tried, but the wall just opened up, so I walked through."
Susan turned to David, smiled and asked, "David, do you think we'll get back home soon?"
"Oh, I doubt it. Our Godship will be here for some time and, if I've calculated correctly, even if we went home now all the people we know will have died of old age."
"We haven't been here long enough for that," Susan chortled. "And if this ship is stuck here, then we can take some other Godship," she said.
"There are no others," David said. "Not now. The others have gone their own way, surfing the stars, collecting samples. We'll be stopping soon, I think. From what I gather from our hosts, there is a star in the constellation Aquarius and it has four planets. We'll stop for a while above the outermost planet to gather materials. I'm not certain, but I think one of the planets even has surface water and creatures that live in that liquid environment. Why our Godship is interested–I have no idea."
Susan had been standing beside the bed but now she collapsed into it. "Oh God. Gordie, you were right. We're here forever."
"It's not that unpleasant a thought," David said. "I've been living it for some time and have learned to enjoy the comforts provided by our hosts."
"But it was a big step up, for you," I said. "Anything would be better than your situation back on Earth."
"Yes, Gordon, that's quite true." David gurgled. "I've never had it so good." Then he waved his hand and said, "Anyone for breakfast? I've ordered pancakes with churned butter and maple syrup and coffee."
I had lost my appetite, but what else was there to do? I pulled Susan to her feet and we followed David.
After a lavish breakfast which included hash brown potatoes, various fruit juices, pineapple slices, yogurt and papaya, I asked David about the eleven dimensions he had mentioned earlier and whether 'time' was one of those dimensions.
"Yes, my boy. It's a curious thing that time behaves quite differently from the spatial dimensions. However, its behavior depends upon which of the space dimensions you inhabit. Well, that's not quite true. We actually inhabit all ten space dimensions even if we're not aware of the other seven. But Godships are able to navigate the diminutive, curled up dimensions and move between space-time realities so that..."
"Wait! Curled up dimensions? What are you talking about?" David could be so hard to understand.
"Why those other space dimensions, my boy. It's like walking a tightrope. That's one-dimensional in space, just distance along the rope. But an ant would be aware of the thickness of the rope and be able to walk around the rope–a tiny curled up space dimension. If the rope were porous, then a microorganism could walk into the interior of the rope. That'd be another space dimension, so from one macro-dimension, distance along the rope, we now have three dimensions with two being diminutive."
David paused, then added, "I also suspect that these Godships are able to move laterally to alternate membranes occupied by parallel universes. I'm almost convinced that entry into these parallel universes is via the diminutive space dimensions. If that is the case, it may explain why they have been unable to find their creators. Our Godships are lost in a foreign universe and are attempting to recreate their creators...creators which live in some other reality. I doubt they'll succeed. However, I am not sure, but I think that the creators are human-like, which explains why our hosts are interested in humans–on planet Earth."
Alternate membranes? Parallel universes? I had no i
dea what this fellow David was talking about, but it seems that searching for the intelligence that created them has occupied our hosts for some time. Perhaps, if they were to find their creators, they'd take us home. Perhaps. Maybe our hosts were intent upon making replicas of their creators. What seemed quite strange, to me, was that I had been led to believe that Susan and I would be making babies. That subject never came up in discussions with David or Susan. I sometimes felt that I should raise the subject again–maybe, sometime. However, Susan seemed indifferent to my sexual overtures. In fact, she seemed like quite a different gal–almost a stranger in some of her mannerisms.
Part 4.2
When we arrived at what I thought was the outermost planet that circled a star in the constellation Aquarius, David said, "Welcome to Cynthia."
"Yes, in the constellation Aquarius," I said, recalling what David had said earlier.
"Ah, no. I thought that was our destination, but we're now near the star Tau Ceti and its planet, Cynthia. The planet in Aquarius may be our next stop since it has a liquid surface and that's important for what Gilgamesh must do...eventually."
"What must it do, eventually?" I asked, afraid to ask who the hell 'Gilgamesh' was.
"You will see, in time." David smiled.
"Have you been here before," I asked.
"Just once. It’s quite cold, no life exists on this planet, but lots of material needed by our hosts."
"You called it Cynthia. Were you aware of this planet earlier, before you first arrived here? How did you learn of the name, Cynthia?"
"Ah, my boy, Cynthia was a beauty. Raven hair, broad and luscious lips, breasts to keep you dreaming, skin the color of coffee and eyes like limpid pools of liquid amber."
David could be so frustrating. "Are you talking about the planet?"
"Heavens, no. Cynthia was my friend, my confidante, my most intimate soul mate. We shared life and love. Then she died. An accident. A car accident. Drunk driver. I was crushed. My world came to an end."
David bowed his head, placing a hand on each cheek. He began to sob, silently, his chest heaving. It was clear what had initiated his fall into indigence when back on Earth. I felt sorry for the old fellow. No wonder he hated the world and was happy on this Godship.
"David, I'm sorry for your loss. It must have been hard to cope. I know that, if Susan were to...if she..." I felt a lump in my throat. I looked at Susan, but she was gone. "Where's Susan?" I jumped to my feet.
I've been very skittish ever since I arrived on board. This was an alien environment and although our hosts had made us very comfortable, the thought of ultimate loss was always on my mind.
"Susan? She left a few minutes ago, to look out the port." David pointed to a corner of the room. There was an alcove and what appeared to be a window. Windows were rare commodities on this ship. I rushed to the far wall and found Susan looking out at a bizarre scene.
"It's beautiful," she whispered. "Icy blue, shimmering in the dim light."
I put my arm around her and gazed over her shoulder. It was indeed a blue planet, but blue like ice. It appeared as smooth as a billiard ball, without a single prominent feature, reflecting the light from a setting sun.
"I don't imagine we'll be going for a walk down there," I said. "Looks rather cold and..."
"And unfriendly," Susan said. "Yet, if we think warm we'll be warm."
"So you've learned how to communicate with our hosts."
"Yes, it's quite easy when you know how. However, it requires some concentration and clear thinking. They're easily confused by random thoughts and fuzzy musings. I suspect you'd have a harder time."
"Hey, that's not fair! I have a degree in Engineering. That requires efficient thought, detailed analysis, a consideration of details."
"Yes, and flights of fancy. That's what hinders mind-talk. Our hosts are prone to extrapolate. They think they know what we're thinking, so they respond to their extrapolation and it's often wrong–close, but wrong. If we think something to wear, as a protection from the cold, we may get a suit of armor. We'd have to think of specific clothes, a sweater, a jacket, its texture not its function."
"Yes, I recall that time when the whole world thought together and the aliens got a garbled message and gave us several weeks of very hot weather. When you think of it now, it was quite funny."
"Yes, they were confused. I understand that they now recognize their error."
"How can you possibly know that?" I asked, incredulous.
"You know perfectly well, Gordie. Mind-talk."
"You're much better at that mental communication than I am. I have a million questions and don't have the mental proficiency to ask. That's depressing."
Susan had a silly grin. "That's okay, sweetheart. Ask me and I'll ask our hosts."
She poked me in the side, then I gave her a hug. Lilac, again. How did she do that?
"How did you manage to sneak your perfume on board?"
Susan gave me one of her 'Hey man, you're not listening' looks.
"Okay, don't tell me. It's mind-talk."
"Of course, my dear. I recall the scent of the perfume, I recall the look of the little spray bottle, I recall the name of the fragrance and where I'd like it to be and..."
"And poof, you get a bottle by your night table."
"No. I don't get anything. I just wake up smelling nice."
That was puzzling. "Our hosts can do that? Make perfume appear on your skin."
"I'm living proof, Gordie. Take another whiff." She started to giggle. Sometimes she can be so annoying, especially that giggle. I didn't realize she giggled so often.
"Lady and gentleman, will you join us?" It was David. We both left the porthole and returned to the room. Although the ship was huge and presumably had hundreds of rooms, the rooms were usually empty or at least sparsely furnished. Well, maybe there weren't hundreds of rooms. Maybe rooms were created and uncreated at will. Our bedroom had just a bed and night tables each with a small lamp with no apparent source of electricity. Now, as Susan and I walked from our window back to the room, we saw that it was now fully furnished with carpet, a large white leather sofa, end tables, a coffee table, two upholstered chairs, a couple of standing lamps and David, beckoning us to sit. I was about to ask how he did that, but Susan beat me to it.
"Very nice thinking, David," she said. "And a soft brown carpet? I love it."
"Thank you Mrs. Blend. Please be seated. I'd like to introduce you to somebody."
Susan sank into a chair and I followed suit. David was dressed in a white turtleneck sweater, a tan colored suede jacket and trousers the color of chocolate. Very elegant.
"That planet, the one you call Cynthia, it's quite beautiful," I said. "Solid ice, I'd say."
"Heavens, no, my boy. Cynthia is entirely covered in ammonia, frozen solid I might add. Beautiful, is it not? Once upon a time it was liquid, but then the planet stopped rotating due to gravitational pressures and the liquid froze. Now it sometimes melts, then refreezes. That's why the surface is so smooth, without craters or other irregularities. That was unfortunate, because there were quite interesting life forms living in the liquid ammonia oceans. But that was long ago. There is, however, another nearby planet with water. Now, let me introduce you to another traveler."
David pointed to a wall and the wall dissolved and a beautiful girl walked through. Her raven hair was piled high upon her head, her skin the color of caramel and her one-piece gown fell from her shoulders to the floor. She was perhaps twenty years old, or maybe younger. She walked very slowly to the sofa. She seemed nervous and hesitant.
"Please sit, my dear," David said in a reassuring voice.
The lady smiled: teeth radiant white, cheeks flushed, luminous brown eyes.
"Susan, Gordon, this is Tiesha. Isn't she beautiful."
I looked from the girl to Susan. Susan was beaming. "Oh David, she is so beautiful. Did you think her?"
"No, my dear. She is a native of Panama, one of the Kuna natives elevated w
hile we hovered above her village. She is very shy and speaks no English, but we can communicate with..."
"Mind-talk," I said sarcastically. "Of course you can. Everybody can do that."
I turned to the girl: "Hello. How are you today?"
She looked at David, then back to me and whispered, "Pura Vida."
I turned to David, inquiring.
"She speaks only Embera, the language of her people, but I've been teaching her some other languages. Pura Vida is from Costa Rica. It means almost anything you want it to mean, that's why I told her to say it whenever someone spoke to her."
Susan was enchanted. "Oh David, you have a friend. I'm so happy for you. I assume she's...uh, available. I mean, free from some native fellow." Susan left the sofa and sat beside the native girl. "Tiesha," she said, holding her hand, "you are so beautiful. I know you and David will be happy."
David was still standing. "Yes, Susan, Tiesha is a Kuna native and free from any marital constraints. In fact, we now have a room we share. I am learning the Northern Embra language. I think that's what she speaks. Perhaps. In any case, Tiesha is learning English. As you might imagine, I am a very happy man."
"I'll bet," I said, almost sarcastically. "An old codger like you and a fresh young girl."
"Gordon! You are such an ass!" Susan punched me in the side, her face red with anger. Why did I say that?
"David, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. Like Susan, I'm very happy for you, both of you. I can imagine how your life will change, from loneliness to happiness, from sadness to joy, from..."
"Gordon, stop it. You've said enough." Susan was growling. I thought she was overreacting.
"That's okay, Gordon," David said. "You've been transplanted, relocated, moved across the galaxy, introduced to novel and extraordinary things. You are not yourself, but give it time. One day you'll enjoy your new life."
Susan returned to her chair and David sat beside the native girl. She snuggled up against him as though seeking refuge. They were a beautiful couple. Why had I been so caustic in my comment? I really am an ass.
Part 4.3
About a week later we were ready to leave the planet Cynthia. David saw us gazing out the window and asked it we'd like to go ashore for a short while, before we leave.
"Didn't you say that the planet is solid ammonia. That doesn't sound too healthy–for us," I said. "I'm partial to oxygen."