A short project to clear the creative pallet
A short project to clear the creative pallet
Thank you for including the encrypting instructions with your last letter. I realize now how cautious my last letters were and welcome this added security. It makes it possible to relax my guard and be more candid and direct in my messages to you.
I have indeed begun to change my analyses of the anomaly. Shortly after your departure I came across some historic records produced by the original settlers of Neo-Britannia. The records were over two hundred years old and describe the original settlers first few decades of exploration. There have been many published reports from the scientific and government sectors of the planet, but this is the first information I have come across that originates from the agricultural community. The account is fascinating and I am curious why I had not encountered it before. The narrative describes the unique relationship some of their members fostered with the Anomaly. ‘An inner dialog with the creature was something a privileged few had the fortune to experience.’ To quote the text. ‘Sharing everyday events and experiences through some type of brain wave emissions.’ I discovered these exact entries mixed in with the agricultural reports of the growth potential for certain regions of the planet along with the struggles face by the incorporation of bees into the planetary environment. The reports were logged, strangely enough, by the neurosurgeon who was stationed with the group during their initial years. Their original base was setup just outside of what is now Delphi. They farmed a large section surrounding this location and produced long running logs of their experiences.
It was an odd place to find this type of activity record, so I can imagine why it has remained unknown to my sphere of research. I am excited by the prospects that this entry bring up in my mind. It plays right in with the ideas about the Flynn Foundation and the growth we have seen in that direction of space. It will be interesting to see what you find upon your arrival. A lot can happen in six years. I wish I could be there.
How disappointing that your view of Mars was so distant. I had envisioned a much more spectacular view during your pass by. At least you have your real firsthand view of the Anomaly to look forward to at the end of your stasis. I am not sure you remember, but I am not allowed to consume caffeinated beverages during my regeneration. I think you must have forgotten this or you would not be torturing me with you frequent references to our favorite drink. I did enjoy your description of the coffee corner on the vessel, but could you please refrain from mentioning the c-word. The craving for a dark rich espresso is exquisite and I sometimes wonder if this absence is worse than the nerve signals ignited by the regeneration.
I am very surprised but overjoyed that you have made a friend on board. I envy your prospect of sampling the experimental cuisine of New London since this is something I will probably never get to experience. I will just have to live precariously through you for now. This will be especially important once I am established on the space station. I do not believe the menu will be very exciting. I only hope they have a fresh vegetation habitat established by the time I reach the system. There was not one mentioned during my first trip briefing, but it was in the long term system description. It will make all the difference to my palate if there is a fresh grown variety of substances to enhance the onboard diet. We will have to see.
I will stop for now. I have a lecture in two hours and I still need to complete my morning therapy. Please do not worry, I am taking it slow. No twelve fingered sister will arrive in the Alpha Centauri system.
I am always exploring interesting place to inspire a new letter for me book. This cafe was very small and crowded, but offered some surprising ideas. Letters from Oxford – offering 17 was written here. It will be a while before it is published though.
At last I am able to respond to your letter. The illness that has consumed me over the past few days was indeed not related to my regeneration. It was however debilitating and I spent the two days in the medical facility under heavy sedation. The surgeon whose care I am under was concerned that the infection would interfere with my recovery. One of the students who came to my lecture last week was carrying a strain of the bacteria responsible for scarlet fever. Although this in not normally a serious illness and easily treated with antibiotics, my reaction to the contagion was extreme. Due to the various substances that I am required to consume to keep my regen on course, I was very susceptible to the bacterial strain he was carrying. Another thing missed by the explanation from the prep team. It was a very rare occurrence according to the medical staff, but still the possibility was there. I am now released for normal activities, although still a little weak.
I will write to you again soon. It was not possible for me to read your past two correspondences yet. I just wanted to inform you that I am alive and recovering.
Back to my most productive writing location. I do not know why, but I write my best stuff here at the Nijmegen train station. It must be the thought that here is a jumping off spot. A place to begin and journey anywhere in the world. Another Oxford letter down on paper. Now on to editing.
I have escaped to a quiet corner of the Bodleian library to write my next correspondence to you. This late in the evening the library is near deserted and I welcome the absence of enquiring voices and curious onlookers.
There is but one remaining comfortable seat left in this section of the college, and I have made this wingback chair my refuge whenever the outer world threatens to overtake my sanity. The return to lecturing has brought back the reason I quit teaching years ago. Even now, hours later, my brain still pulses from the bombardment of questions from my audience. Both the profound and ridiculous are equally trying, negating my ability to concentrate on anything other than maintaining my frustration. I have come to my oasis by the fire, curled up on the tapestried cushions, to sort out my options. It helps to write it out to you, picking through the events that have lead me to this point. I yearn for the analytical person who fled when my arm disappeared. She would be more than capable to control these events. I realize the need for my activities here, keeping my tenure open at the college as my body regenerates and retaining access to the lab facilities for my continued research. I only struggle to relate to my audience a subject I no longer believe. In the past five years, my studies have taken my knowledge so far away from what I need to relate in my weekly presentations that it seems a farce to me.
I want to share what we have discovered during these last years of research. I know this if forbidden, but I feel foolish passing on information to these eager minds that in recent discoveries, negates their existence. We both are aware how groundbreaking my studies have been for the Louvre. It is difficult to relate the lie when the truth hides itself within the confidentiality of our project. What will these people think when the true nature of my findings are announced years from now. Will they look back at my lectures with disdain, knowing I was well aware of the deception? Saying I was hiding the truth behind a veil of secrecy and subterfuge. This is necessary, I know.
To announce the discoveries we have made about the nature of the Anomaly in the Alpha Centauri system now would be premature. I just find it difficult to base an entire lecture on the chaotic structure of the array, informing an entire auditorium of academics that there is no parallel between the neural structure of the brain and the signal pattern detected from the system. We both know how untrue that is. Attempting to debate this question with the crowd has drained my system. It is hard to take the wrong side of the argument, knowing you are promoting misinformation. I am only relieved I have only two lectures a week. I do not think I could survive more than that.
The reconstruction engineer I have been assigned to here at Oxford has been very encouraging about the progress of my regeneration. He said if all goes at this pace I will be able to return to my normal activities within six months. That is several months ahead of my original timeline projected by the surgeon. So very encouraging. It is too soon at this point to arrange a return to London, but the anticipation of an early commencement of my own research for the Louvre will allow me to survive my time among the academia. I love Oxford, but the subterfuge is against my nature. I only hope I can hold on to our closely kept secret long enough to return to the London Headquarter of the foundation.
Tell me about Mars in your next letter. I would love to see it through your eyes as you make the red planets acquaintance.
The quiet is palpable. A solid force surrounding the masses. Darkness hovers above, broken only by the flicker of lucifer flames.
Symbols appear across the open space. Shapes traced out by emitted photons in the green and blue spectrum, evoking the magick, a precursor to the addition of wavelengths to come.
A single figure is illuminated in blue, positioned in the center of the raised platform. Diminished only by the immensity of the venue, but remaining larger than life. The force is seated, cradling an implement of power to his body. The instrument is adjusted for ease and a single cord is strummed, filling the vacuous space with the final component of the spell. He evokes the following notes in succession, building on the foundation of magick laid out at the start.
With each measure, more figures join, and each is brought to light in a different emission, creating a tapestry of color across the forum. Greens and golds dance across the stage, following each form as they join their additions into the connotation. The observing masses add to the pressure, creating the ebb and flow of the tide as it washes through the medium.
A sudden crescendo threatens to overpower the spell, sending the crowd into a frenzy that will quickly cascade out of control. The lone figure still seated on the stage, takes control, bringing the magick back into synchronization and leveling the energy to maintain order. Passing his outstretch limb across the horizon in a single arch before returning his concentration to the strings.
The symbols circling the venue, morph from shape to shape, taking direction from the architect, leading the magick to its final destination. A lengthening of the vibrations creates deep reverberations through the core of each individual present as the tide once again crests. Running its course as it heads for fruition.
One by one the figures retreat, taking their frequencies and wavelengths with them. There is no decrease in power, only a change in the complexity of the signal.
At last only the seated figure remains, strumming the final notes of the enchantment. The blue illumination flickers out, leaving the assemblage in darkness. Merely the fading afterimage of the symbols remains before the multitude of eyes and the last notes of the connotation reverberate out into the endless expanse of space.
Made a visit to the underground museum located in the church of Cuijk, Netherlands. Many Roman artifacts on display that were found in the area. The jewelry was very intricate and most still intact. Very enjoyable.
Letters from Oxford – Letter 2
I have returned to Oxford for the remainder of my regeneration since the neural communication progress to my new limb can be monitored here. The exterior layer of the arm is now fully formed, but the internal structure is still in process. The temptation to use my new acquisition is unbearable, but the surgeon has warned me of the repercussions of doing so. I will have to refrain from this urge and keep the static brace in place. There was a failure by the prep team to mention any hint concerning the maddening vibrations produced during this stage of the process. I have been vocal about the absence of this point in their instructions.
The doctor has reluctantly allowed me to resume my work at the college on a limited basis. I am only given permission to conduct two lectures a week, but this will at least curbs some of my tedium. During the first of these lectures I met a fascinating young woman. The moment I met her I felt an instant connection without at first realizing why. I frequently glanced in her direction during my presentation, trying to place what I found so endearing. After the lecture she came up to the podium to ask a short clarification on my neural scan results from my previous research project. It occurred to me at that moment that although she looked vaguely like you, her expressions and mannerisms were so similar I am afraid I lost track of what she was asking. This was so out of character for me, since I am usually completely focused on my subject when I lecture, that I stood in front of the enquiring group unable to collect my thoughts. I do not know whether it is my physical state or your absence, but I will give myself a bit off leeway for this pause in cognition. I eventually pulled myself away from my musing to answer her question, finally seeing the actual young woman in front of me and not your spectral shadow.
I returned my mind to the present situation and pushed aside the emotional response the encounter evoked in me. It was ideal to elaborate on my past work, since it pulled my thoughts away from you and the work we are currently involved in. There have been so many questions over the past few weeks since your departure pertaining to your status. I had to be vague on these occasions because of the strictures laid out in the Louvre contract. I could see our backstory of you “expanding your artistic horizons” was not satisfying the curiosity of the masses. I have given the rehearsed statement, as agreed, on several occasions, but always with the same dissatisfied response from the recipient. I only hope I will be able to keep up this facade until my own departure next year. The logic within me fights against the deception at every turn.
I hope you are able to study at least part of the data I have sent with you before your long sleep begins. My conversations with the Flynn foundation here on Earth, has been very non-committal. It seems more like speaking to a corporate giant than a scientific community. I gave up after several weeks of runaround. Having been transferred and redirected to just about every division within their headquarters. We will just have to hope you have more success on New London. I will continue to monitor their PR site, but I see less and less benefit to this line of inquiry. Instead I will concentrate on the neural scan process documentation you will need once you arrive in the Alpha Centauri system. I have some new ideas for you to attempt once you are in the vicinity of the Anomaly and I want to update the instruction I have already provided you. I will complete the new procedure before you leave our solar system so you will have them at the end of your journey.
At times like this I so regret the accident that created this delay in my departure. Although my designs for the experiment were sound and the eventual results phenomenal, I have paid the price. I was fortunate that only my body was damaged and not the equipment. Even the data collected during my traumatic reaction to the event, survived the torrent. Adding to the already incredible data collected up to that point. My arm did not. I still cannot find words to express my gratitude to the native tribe members who discovered me before I bleed to death, lying alone on the floor of the flooded ravine. At my request, the Louvre has arranged a new science center for their village added to the scope of my planned research station. It seemed a small price to pay for my life, but the village elders seemed pleased with the offering. It was a simple thing to convince the Louvre since the area has already proven itself paramount for my neural study. I only hope once I am fully healed, I will be able to return to the village in New Zealand to thank the people myself and finalize my findings with the newly constructed research station.