Wednesday, August 11, 2004

It Carried Its’ Way Through The Constellations: Winter 2004

It grew monstrously from a distant speck, a mere isolated blob had become a multiple barrelled space engine, barging its way through the portal quickly, landing plumb mid-deck. There had been considerable distress as it was not known what it was at first but it was for definite now: A cargo cast from people, presumably from all hurried democracies that had been unsympathetic towards the regime now started here on the great planetary plain. They were the new chartists set to rebuke the new titans, whoever they were, for there was a current belief that nothing should be too strong or too weak within the powerful state. Many had decided that the complicated balance of nature had to match the balance of humanity, otherwise there would be spreading chaos causing pain. And so from the dormant doors issued the human remains that had fled further star systems feeling entrapped by major alliances that had formed themselves around the black hole vistas, now mining them for time travel, notwithstanding the ancient habits grown around the need for constant energy, exercise and recreation too.

The countless meetings chugged along regardless, but nothing was ever settled satisfactorily. Many delegates felt powerless to shape an effective response to complaints made officially to them about the general conduct surrounding the governorship. Many masked interlopers listened in on their radio stems and found out what their critics were telling them but couldn’t act on it in case they were discovered as spies. The whole affair was a mess. However, this untidy diplomatic knot was far too extreme to be displayed within the public domain and needed a cautious approach beyond measure to unravel. So the newcomers from the swanky space crawler were here alongside everyone else, just to sort things out. But, it was not too long until trouble started again with the customary mayhem that always accompanied everywhere.

“So what’s the news”, chirped Ned in a rather cheerful manner, “Something is about to begin and I’m not letting it happen without my involvement”.

“So what! Can’t you keep out”, balled the other chap at the top of his voice canal, “It’s useless you being here. You are not even eligible to be invited on board”!

Ned was determined not to be soaked in this barbed talk and mimicked his servant’s voice to cause further affront. He was never very clever at out-speaking his opponents and so he forwarded a more sarcastic firing line every time he became thwarted. He felt it was an authoritative echo but it didn’t rally back, reflecting badly on him every time he tried to throw his weight around. Ned had become involved with the project in a rather loose respect at first but now he was heavily attached, furthering the, by now rather retarded, course to solving the human equation: Technological competence equalling the potentially limited dimensions sustained by the human mind. It wouldn’t be long until civilization would not need to evolve again, only for the more sobering peace that it would ultimately bring and serial contentment.

Ned finally dismissed his retainer with a sharp excuse that would most probably send him harkening back to his cronies for a sympathetic reception due to the derision. Meanwhile, the pimpled antagonized went to fleece someone else from their according self-dignity.

Ned didn’t really want to raise thunder but wanted to get on with his job without the controversial quirks that came with being an ineffectual line manager, a position foisted on him rather than attainably elected. All in all, it left him in a very unbouncey way, a mogul for heartlessness amongst potential friendly faces attempting to mollify him. But it was too late for that now, he had to cut it in the workplace or suffer his own humiliation from others above him.

Once in the past, he had been labelled as a criminal when he could read effectively human behaviour, now he had become respectable due to an inherent gap in his knowledge about human relations. As presently he didn’t even know how to worship anything, he became the worshipped, accept like with all gods ancient and modern, he stood to be abused on a day-to-day basis by his own brethren. No progress was made, as everyone was at perpetual loggerheads with his own dominatrix. It could not work this hierarchy. These revolving circles dominated everything and premeditated habitual procedure and etiquette in a society winding up on its’ own successful criteria, universally acknowledged.

Ned had a great deal to fear from the system that had torn him apart and then put him back together in its’ own image, after the dissemination had been completed through a gradual malign process that meant he was ascending the successful heights, at the expense of his disintegrating personality - the equation had been set.

Presently, they were all ordered to march out and meet the delegates from the dizzy star carrier that had halted there to sort things out with the black hole miners, who were just about to initiate a strike ballot. Summing up a long and embittered argument, the miners were highly despondent following the vagaries issued everyday by their line mangers, having no idea what requirements from the top existed; nobody felt ready to plunge in and take charge effectively. Greater authority was faceless, and from being faceless it created ultimate confusion around itself like a screening force field, screening its inner motives from those in the outside limits. Ned, as with many others, became those tossed about like drift wood on this quantative power surge, unable to stop its channelling course, cancelling his own designs effectively in some elaborate quadratic equation that could not ever be solved.

For this occasion, the hooded Doge walked out and blessed the crowd haplessly, dragging his feet along the dirty splintered floor in an effort to excommunicate his presence, away from the mumbling people who lined the chamber’s sidelines in rows and rows.

“Open those doors and let them through”, he would say at last. His only words would be the only concrete impression anyone would be tempted to contemplate for now, his tired actions, merely an inner reverberation.

Solid looking republican plasterboard pillars beaded a scene that was a solemn re-enactment from ancient Venetia, except with the regalia that a more modern setting could provide and for that matter manage, in its obscurity to the truth and acceptability suiting the relevance attributed to this present occasion. The welcoming committee watched carefully for their cue in case it may have been forgotten in the tide governing the delegate’s progress throughout the giant space station, apportioned to this project’s secret yearnings: To travel in time comfortably via the available black holes settled in this region.

And then his mouthy orifice opened to charge the wind with heedless words to welcome and then to remonstrate that it had been far to long since they had last met in unison. The crowd feigned listening to the august speech; unfortunately, the Doge was intoning his voided passion rather than being beguiling it with his own expression. It was difficult to hear anything remarkable during the officiating, coloured deputations and silent salutations.

He continued to declare openly that the mines would provide for a looser reality, describing a dimensional pull hovering above and below the surface, fusing at entry points in our known universe, magnanimous enough to envelope whichever visitor so happened to be travelling on that particular day. He maintained this all throughout his soliloquising remaining frozen at the end, indicating his presence was indeed tremendously imposing.

The Doge’s tranquil attendants, dressed like Venetian Priests complete with glinting shawls made drab by the muck stuck on the floor and now sticking to the bottoms of these clocks, showed the delegates where to walk; where to waggle their pride around the assembly; where to shoulder those influential they thought they ought to know immediately before the whole show swung into action, complete with ceremonial walks in and out through the black holes and after that at their own constant whim. Ned just wanted to walk away from it all through the doors offered, down any shaft into a new dimension. He had no place here amongst the spectators; he was an instigator after all. He had to see one of these new worlds for himself and pronto, otherwise his life would secularise itself backwards into the womb without redress.

He hovered around likely to pick up upon the important characters chosen to try the mines for size. He would sniff out the main official person and get invited on board and peck at this person until he was finally granted full participation. It was more than likely that what prohibited his crew did not apply to him, yet he had put so much work into the project and needed instant recognition and gratification. These salient dreams unfolded within his mind slowly, but they grew to such a size that the only way forward was to follow them. Watching the mounting officials file away into a more intimate cordoned chamber away from the breezy crowd milling about the plasterboard jungle in huddled groups of assorted calibre, Ned was not as delighted as his fellow men.

Ned had not yet tested his vision adequately and so he strode away to find a route into the fantastic show that was passing him by without remission. Otherwise, he was subject to his own critical reality, without so far nothing could escape, except through scientific acceptability: The equation had now been set for too long and this new door was his only hope to muster a new life harvested on just dreams.

It was unfortunate when the day first rung it tears from the sunset, another from his kind would broach the gap into the past that he insisted was reserved for him to goggle his eyes. And at that moment’s apex, the magnificent arch was unveiled to the hierarchy present. Then an orphan speech rolled forth yet again, while first the governors all spoke to frame the occasion, then beneath their gaze, the guarantors with all their mounting financial kudos replied with all the truthful virtues they knew, unless the very truth they owned be destroyed subsequent to their time travelling agonies, all spent away from reality’s realm; each felt in their fiery speak that there may be something to loose without securing any insurance beforehand.

The other delegates were the last to pass the arching portal. It was wonderful how they would be able to inflame their passion and bring back their message to the people - however for now the new dawn had begun. A single man scuttled far behind, watching them disappear from the rear viewpoint. He fully expected them to reappear almost immediately in calmative force to express their views about the abyss to the standing reporters but in actual fact, nothing developed or gave way or protruded from the archway door that had been tidied shut for good measure, like the reality he felt too ashamed to be part.

Ned remained enduring the nuisance hammering away within the main shaft, kicking out in tidal shock waves at regular intervals throughout the surrounding peace around the shaft entrance; the home reality had now been dissipated. This clanking from the passenger pipe refused to die down without subsidiary interruption. His top lip folded gently over his partner lip as to give him some dispensation for the agony caused by this irritating echo, rebounding across the room relentlessly.

And they never came back, not at all. None of the original expedition; though something returned on their behest - a raggedy creature whose jaw had been formerly severed and presently looked as if it had been sown on by several metal bolts, shining wickedly in the antechamber it had been born into, begat from the descending vault. It had been cultured from naked skin above all, but metal rafters snaked around its’ torso repeatedly, spiralling and spiralling beautifully around immaculately in symmetrical sections, reflecting the light with effervescence. It quickly gazed at Ned then abandoned its decorum to insist on a banquet and eloquently it felt that Ned would do as an available starter to the meal for its polite tongue, maintaining that it was for this that animals mostly existed from where it came from beyond the stars; they ate and ate and ate until suffice and after rolled over for a bit of a snooze.

That was the inevitability, the sum of it all for these creatures – that is all they did from dawn to inky dusk – it was a necessity – a behavioural island that they collectively lived on to survive the longest in their homely reality plain, aeons into the future or aeons back into the past – you take your pick. The silence after this was inevitable, while the new creature explored its’ new realm, baling its head back and forth in synchronicity with the alarm that shuddered into action, motioning a pack of more and other singular creatures arising from the time vault, many cackling like laden geese, fearful in their surprisingly assorted zoological surroundings but nothing like the supposed imaginations calculable from the denizens in this splintered nook indicating the home universe.

Mouths opened then sank into bare flesh and then these fleshy parts became a suppertime boon with furthermore food sought afterwards to increase the tote nourishment – it was a natural instinct, a base motivator to exist for these colourful invading species. These creatures were not curious.


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