NaNoWriMo Day 15: Halfway.

Posted: November 15, 2011 in National Novel Writing Month, sci fi
Tags: , , , , ,

Ze plot, it thickens. We now begin to find out a bit about the primary threat in this story, the whatever it is, that communicates in colors. It seems to be very similar to Humanity (not humanity, note the case). 

 

 

The professor was  discovered, unconscious, the next day. Professor Mansuur found him, stretched out, beside the gate. Mansuur started to go through it, then thought better of it, and went around.

“Tule,” he said as he tapped his shoulder. He was breathing, but otherwise, he didn’t stir. Mansuur looked about for the old man, but he was nowhere to be found. This is just weird, he thought. He pulled out a ‘caller. Get some help here, I guess.

Professor Tule could see the color. It was a mind. A Mind, immense, old, fearsome in its intelligence, its acquired knowledge and information. It didn’t have a physical form; it had grown far too complex for that. It existed as waves of energy. Its experiences included the entirety of the Universe, and Tule, part of that Mind now, experienced it as well. He experienced a life form that called itself Humanity; that life form was separate and distinct from the humans he had known. Humanity, as it called itself, possessed the sum total of all attainable knowledge.

But, it was not the Mind he had become part of.

The Mind was something entirely different.

 

Professor Tog and professor Mansuur were in the waiting room. An ambulance had come; they took Tule to a nearby hospital. Police had come, also. They found the old man’s body in a nearby swamp. Mansuur had been questioned thoroughly, and they seemed to be convinced that he hadn’t done anything.

“Do you really think something, ah, criminal happened, Mansuur?” Tog asked. She was a thin, nervous looking woman who had never strayed far from the confines of academia. There was an edge of excitement to her voice that she was not completely successful at concealing

“I couldn’t tell you. Tule’s in some kinda coma, I guess, and that old man’s dead. When I found him, Tule was on the other side of that stupid little gate, like he walked through it. Maybe he and the old guy got into it.” There was an old fashioned wall screen in the waiting room; two dimensional and flickering static. There were news reports about the local warlord being outraged and insulted by someone or another. Mansuur sighed. I just want to go home, get off this bass-ackwards mud ball and be somewhere civilized.   Haven’t had a proper gin since we got here.

 

Physical shape is limited.

It limits Us.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Tule questioned. Their conversation had grown more and more sure, more confident, as time had passed. The earlier stumblings over alien concepts were now, not as frequent. This current tack was throwing Tule for a loop. “What do you mean, ‘it limits us’?”

We are not matter. Matter/energy. Physical shape is matter only.

It limits us.

Leave it.

“You’re not serious, are you?”

Explain serious.

With that, Tule knew they were serious. There had, in fact, never been the capacity for a joke, for anything that wasn’t deathly serious, to Mind.

“Leave it, how?”

Surrender.

Release.

Abandon.

Tule considered it. The infinite cosmos, or this shell that would eventually degrade and fail.

 

“Were either of you this man’s next of kin?” the nurse asked Tog and Mansuur. Tog let out a small gasp. Mansuur sighed.

“We know how to get in touch with them,” he answered.

 

 

words and pictures © Christopher Ward. All rights reserved

 

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