However, anything can be overcome with determination and support. Especially if you have enough of the latter. After all, returning from between realities was just a quest for courage. But to go back again. Despite all my newfound confidence, the path seemed to be one-way. That strange membrane was and remained hidden on the side of my own reality.
Since I couldn't have prepared any better than this, prolonging the breather seemed pointless. Compared to Geber, there was this one extra obstacle. The Mumenos had personally come to pick him up. Geber had not been spared exoticism during their journey, but it had been relatively safe for the human body. His problems only began once they arrived. Luckily, the Mumenos returned the man, albeit in a weakened state.
For some strange reason, I felt like I was a replacement part for a product that had fallen under warranty. Geber couldn't be repaired, so a new one would be sent. The seller covers the shipping costs. Okay. It's a bit much, but I just have a tendency to be cynical. It's not entirely my fault. Life has simply shown me that everything depends on value, appreciation, and power. Introverted hard workers often end up as consumer goods. They are not the vocal crowd that gets noticed.
Well, that's that. Moving forward. As we set our sails Dig made a turn past the café. We waved to Pearl, Winston, and Cook, visible as distant figures in the window. Neoraguon Buhr was also there, but left the ceremonies to others. Mr. and Mrs. M were outside their own ship in space suits. I might not have wanted such a ceremony-like departure. It felt too much like a farewell to someone going off to war. There was supposed to be just a work assignment ahead deviating slightly from my daily routine. Right? Fortunately, I didn't have to face this alone like Geber did. Alongside Dig, Babaru was with me.
Fear is written deep into my DNA, but I’m able to control it from time to time. And now was such a moment. The brick-wall of acceleration was right in front of us. I reasoned it this way. If you can't go over it, go under. Saturn had already shrunk to a tiny dot in the rear cameras. Time to really get going.
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Dig first checked on Babaru. Everything was fine. Then she focused on me. My knuckles were white and my fingertips at least somewhat embedded in the armrests. Everything okay? I nodded. Dig let her gaze linger. I could see from her eyes that a thousand thoughts were racing through her head. I nodded again to reinforce my message. Dig turned forward and began to twist space.
Winston had asked me to avoid unnecessary risks. He wanted to experience the joy of seeing me again. I don't want to disappoint him. All my energy was focused on this goal. Dig glanced back at me. I could tell from her face I was already drifting. Another nod. Dig did as we had agreed. Gas pedal went deeper. I was a rubber band.
The nausea intensified. This was different now. We were going much faster than when we visited Earth. My cramping fingers reluctantly let go of the armrest. Holding on had been pointless from the start. Dig continued to slowly but steadily speed up. My vision blurred. It wasn't about G-forces. Physics had turned into play-dough long time ago. I was rhubarb pudding.
The lights went out in my head. My insides were buzzing. I was an anthill. I opened my skull and turned my brain inside out. I was mashed potatoes. I dried up. I crumbled, became dust, gathered into a ball under the force of gravity, exploded, and flowed through an hourglass.
And I arrived.
I sat comfortably and securely in my seat, a few feet away from everything, but still in my place. The rippling surface of brane glistened to my left. It was summer again. The grass smells, the trees rustle quietly in the wind, and we're on our way. Dig had floored the accelerator. The view through the front window was completely black except for a bright pinhead-sized spot. We were in a long tunnel on our way beyond the observable universe.
There are no turnable tables on the seats of Dig's spacecraft. But I had one in front of me. Next to my laptop is a palm-sized, platinum-colored box. I have no intention of letting it out of my sight. I got it from Buhr. It's a life capsule containing a mind-control-worm spore. Neoraguon warriors don't hand out their weapons lightly, so Cook must have made a pretty good speech. Hopefully I won’t need it, but there's no harm in being prepared.
The duration of our journey is a mystery. And I don't even know from whom or what perspective it could be measured. All earthly theories have just become a muddle of porridge. We are heading towards the future, but our route runs along the sandy roads of the past.
Till next time.
- Johnny