The Solid Intangible

1

I’m drifting, it’s dark and cold and I’m drifting by myself. I can see

lights trailing and spiralling through my port-window tying knots around me.

I feel so tired, so utterly depleted; I just want to be back on the farm. Now

it’s warm, it’s too warm and I’m scared. I think I’m lost but I can’t move;

something has me strapped down. It’s getting so bright my teeth are hot

in the back of my throat. Now the light has changed to contrast its former

self. It is a dark void, an eclipse. But instead of craning my neck and looking

away, I am consumed by it. Engulfed and devoured...

This project has been a culmination that has endured longer than my life

here, so much time and effort has gone into farming the resources and

gathering the data. This truly is the last effort we can make to expand

what’s left, to keep this whole thing going. My body is heavy. My mouth is

dry. My head is burning and I can’t remember what I was just doing. I’m

alone and cold.

I’m outside, it’s dark and I’m somewhere I don’t recognize. I think I might

have wandered too far into the desert and blacked out. But the sky -

something sinister is at work there the clouds have revealed a broken

sun resting on the horizon, weighing it down. I know something horrible

has happened. I need to find shelter and get my bearings; I am wary and

suspicious of the emptiness around me. With no recollection of where I was

going or what I was doing I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but it has

been too long.

...Seven thousand and nine, seven thousand and ten...

I have stayed awake by counting steps. For three-thousand or more I’ve

been walking through the shadows of some distant mountain. I don’t know

what’s happened but I’ve started to think I won’t be seeing anything familiar

soon. My whole planet is asleep; or dead. The warmth I feel out here is

palpable but the cool breeze does nothing to alleviate it. An outcrop of rock

juts over the horizon just past where the rest of the planet drops into a

steep decline.

My numb legs may carry me there- but no farther. Caught in a depressed

haze I stoop my head and watch my torso float across the barren plain,

viewing the journey from some unfathomable distance away.

While I’m carried by some invisible force the last part of the journey I try to

think about what I was doing before I woke up but I can’t remember what it

is was. I can’t remember where I was going or who I am. I’ve been reborn

ignorant of my purpose. I can barely feel my body but there is wind at my

back. I wish I was lying in the dust, fixed into that purple sky. A place full of

stars and circling lights, a sun that never seems to set, but is always hidden

behind some dark silhouette.

Twelve-thousand and twenty-two... and the freezing winds are gone. I’m

stagnant in the cave, my vision not registering, a violent sweat and wretch,

then blackness. And I’m never going to wake up again.

2

In another lifetime I did wake up though. I found myself cradled to

a wall, eyes uncertain and timid. Vulnerable in the reflections of a cracked

murky puddle, I could just barely turn to rest against the wall.

Sliding down its grimy surface, a burden of my own body I gave into the

view of an orbiting light, the same as the day before and for now my only

memory of anything at all.

Positioned as I was, I noticed something in the shade of the entrance.

What appeared to be fungus covered the floor and invaded almost half of

the entrances eternal shadows. Parched and afraid of the water the fungus

seemed an impassable option. In slow motion, an unfocused parcel crossing

a channel of space, I found myself with it in hand. I safely sit in the shadow

of the cave’s mouth and embrace that swollen brown sun; there is no direct

light, merely a hint and a tinge of its youthful past.

It only offers an unpleasant glow that makes stomach acid rise into my

throat. It is for these reasons that I try to avoid it at all costs. I feel

displaced; a voyeur, watching myself struggle in vain from somewhere far

away. There’s something all together unwholesome about where I now find

myself. In the wake of logic I am a shivering beacon of self-abuse.

Scared and broken, with no path laid out before me and I have little to

reassure myself that anything will ever be right or normal again.

I’ve been here for less than two weeks from what I can recall. Fungal

spores have been my nourishment. Since arriving some time ago, I have

settled into this place of isolation. In a coma, broken by the euphoria of a

full stomach, the dust in the not-quite-still air holds a motion and grace of

something that gnaws at my memories but cannot be placed. I feel a quiet

rage overcoming me and I feel myself again succumb to a vile influx of acid.

Straining and sore I find myself outside, bent over in the sunlight that

never seems to rest. Combating my demise I crawled back to the forest of

darkness and solitude. Nearly delirious, I feel the fungus spreading its’ roots

in the core of my system. A host of healing properties I would never have

considered or hoped for. I feel stronger every day I rest here.

More and more a singularity is forming inside me. I can feel a pulse and

see the sparkle of recollection. In a place that seems removed from the very

fabrics, I see a farm that breathes and flows. It is a blur which focuses itself

and dims again. I can remember nothing more and that has been over a

course of, what I can fathom, nearly a week. It’s impossible to tell now.

The sparkle is overcome by a presence so fierce my eyes rebound and my

tongue hangs in my throat. Every light in my vision has been snuffed out by

a cloud. I feel my body lift towards the ceiling –I feel my head bounce back

off the ground. I wake up to a throbbing head. I find myself wishing to be

some place far away, back where I was when I first woke up so long ago.

I take a half-step forward as my vision collects. I fall backwards into the

dune surrounding the cave. I’m caught in a forward motion with my eyes

set to the sky. For a moment I am the sand, sliding down the hill with some

minute discernable path. Afterwards I am immobilized, frail and frantic with

the panic that I’m losing my mind. As I crawl and scratch my way through

the sand towards my safe perch I find my whole body shaking. I need to be

in the cave for a few more days. I need to eat more and maybe drink a bit,

then I’ll be healthy.

I felt as good as I’d ever felt. I crawled into the vacant spot no longer

occupied by that deceiving water. Though that feels like years ago now. I

felt I must finally leave.

A warm wave came over me while the thought was fresh in my mind; a

brilliant sweat inflicted me; nearly breaking my heart and blinding me

simultaneously.

I will be safe on the farm...

3

For the second time I regained consciousness in mid-stride. This

time the mountain was north-east in front of me to my right, the cave, far

to the south; huddled against the broken planet. I was dreaming before I

woke, dreaming about a peaceful place. There was grass; it was long and

green, blowing in the wind, far off into every direction. I was in the shade

of a skeletal building; a farmhouse older than time. The sun was bright and

hanging heavy above the clouds, it must have been around noon. In this

dream I am brave and curious about the noxious path laid out before me.

I find myself pursuing it. Very far I walk; the farm is no longer behind me.

The lush grass had devolved into a nearly barren field. The view from here

looks like a battlefield. I don’t know what has happened to my planet. In the

distance I can hear faint talking. I am still following the trail when I come

across the quarry. It goes so deep that I cannot judge its depth.

From here the voices are much louder, they’re coming from somewhere

below me.

Craning over the lip, I step in the vile liquid and am sent hurtling down into

the planet. There is fungus everywhere. Then all of a sudden, I am walking

through a dark desert. A place of paramount loneliness where I find myself

at ends with the life I am leading. At least now I know where I need to be.

There is a farm to the north, and past that is a quarry. I know there are

people down there but I just need to get to them first.

Remembering specifics of the farm seems a pointless task. I try and try, yet

it just slips away leaving me worn-out and stranded. At this stage I have

reduced to crawling and half-dragging myself through the colossal dusty

graveyard. Here and there protrude mimicries of trees and bushes, vast in

their blasphemies. The ground here, while still warm, is now the faintest

bit moist, as if it were the beach of some forgetful ocean. My burden feels

condensed. I scraped the wall clean. Conserving every last morsel I could.

Nail on stone, clawing and pulling for hours in desperation. I needed to find

answers but I could not leave the fungus.

Now my hand throbs in a dull-roar after shedding four fingernails in the

ordeal. So with as much fungus as I can possibly carry tucked safely into

my haggard jump-suit I continue as northward as I can optimistically

hope to steer. The sun relentlessly plays games with my head appearing

to me always in my peripheral vision but seemingly never above me. As

I lurch and bend under the weight of my own laziness an alarming wind

greets my face from below me. I am suddenly hundreds of feet in the air

struggling for my balance on the edge of a cliff face. I teeter for an eternity

before collapsing onto the flat rock. After I regain my composure I scoot

up to the edge until my legs dangle off leaving me with a warm sense of

weightlessness.

I am startled at first and soon delighted. In the distance, far to the north I

can see buildings. It is too far too early to tell but I don’t think they’re even

damaged. There might even be survivors. As I began to stand up something

caught my attention. Looking closely I realized the desert revitalized into a

half-hearted display of brown grass and shrubbery. There was something

about the settlement that made me feel entirely afraid, though the

possibility of interaction was a stronger force inside me at that moment.

I turn east towards the mountain, an erection of ancient rock overshadowing

half the land. Under the cloak of shadow I witness an elegant mark across

the surface of the sand. I narrow my eyes, steadying my hands underneath

my arms, shaking uncontrollably. I am overcome by an emotion so barely

containable that I burst into a full run parallel the cliff face until I find

the steep decline hugging the cliff all the way down to the tepid brown

landscape. I am caught from behind by the forces of creation; my wicked

speed dictating a forward spin face first down the jagged, sandy hill. I can

see the level ground speeding up to meet me.

Encumbered by the forward motion, I sprawl across the ground void of

movement. I fall into a broken troubled sleep. Again I can see the farm,

though this time it is illuminated from within. Blue light, the same as the

one in the sky, radiates from the decrepit framework. It’s so bright I want to

turn away. Catering to the glow I get down on my knees and bow. I never

stand on my feet again.

When I woke, I had not moved. In the midst of dust and broken stone

I found my abused limbs flailing, struggling to regain their composure,

fighting to make it to my feet.

Warm and elastic, my weak legs are no longer strong enough to support me

and so again I begin the slow crawl north to the intact town where I will find

answers about the farm. I will learn the path to the quarry and there I will

free my friends. This is what must be.

Four-thousand steps from my stumble I notice something in the distance.

I see again the object that spurned my fall. From my feet, reaching north

for what seems like miles is a broken path laid down by something colliding

with the planet in a miscalculated error of landing. It is nearly large enough

for me to walk in and deep enough for me to crawl in without seeing the

ground. It is a vast scratch across the planet. I am gripped by anxiety as I

delve further into the open wound.

Five-thousand and six... and in-front of me I see an aborted shuttle. It had

been an elegant beast of superior design; its origins could only possibly be

stellar. But the interior was nothing but a tarnished nest of burnt-out cables

and broken terminals. As I stood in its shadow staring into the open port,

a frequency of white noise became my vision, my hearing reduced to a dull

blur of rhythmic electronics. The sound grasped my brain in its heavy hands

and sent me haphazardly into a black world inhabited only by lights that

twinkle and a heart that was barely beating.

I remember this place was beautiful. I’m standing where the farm used to

be. The view from here looks like a battlefield even though centuries must

have passed since any number of people could have been here. I’m thinking

as far back as I can remember…

I’ve just arrived, but the trip has been on my mind all week. It was clear in

my head then, when I mapped out my intentions they shone with validity.

Since arriving, the entire ordeal has placed upon me the horror that I’m on

the verge of stumbling across something living, something awake in this

constant uncertainty. Rightfully so though, I’ve been vomiting for three days

supporting myself with nothing but some fungus I kept on hand from the

cave. In my current condition I feel very apprehensive about my choices.

Past the valley there is a quarry, propelling itself straight down, deep

enough to penetrate the very heart of the planet.

4

I think it’s time that I confronted whatever I can.

It’s not being alone that has me so irritable; it’s worrying about what I’m

going to find or what I will not discover. But something tells me that there

are others, something tells me to find the quarry because my quest lies at

the bottom. During my distressed sleep a visitor came to watch over my

voyage through the hidden sectors of my sleeping existence. For days he

stood over me as a ward for all things hostile. He was a complacent sentry.

He is an archaic vessel of carnal knowledge, a sentient being with the sole

purpose of monitoring my existence. He exceeds in his solitary mission,

content with my safety. For the first time in this life, a warm hand greets me

from my troubled sleep. I am lifted from the ground and held in the careful

delicate hands of this creature of service.

It is too late to be afraid; he could have subdued me at any point during my

conscious lapse. He lifted me to the sky; studying my face.

The only emotions I could reach were deep gratitude and solace, utter

protection. As I first looked into his faithful eyes, I felt a sense of great relief

tangling my body. The lonesome journey ending; a new dawn will rise from

this beings’ presence.

I collapse against him, the first sound sleep since rebirth. I filter out the

negativity. I wake again some distance from the pod. Momentary fear is

exhausted as I gaze upon my saviour. He stands beside me, arms spread.

In his shadow I am warm.

Before my first movement I feel his arms under my shoulders, lifting me

to hang from his back effortlessly. He is a tower of a man, a noble frame

housing unprecedented strength. My feet nearly touch the ground as his

powerful legs roll across the desert. I am yet unable to speak. No words

could do justice to this turn of events. Occasionally he hums a tune that I

almost recognize.

Somewhere over the horizon lies the town. With my new found Protection

safety is assured.

Though as he carries me and I begin to drift again between the worlds, I find

my thoughts stuck in the middle of the alien craft and the journey ahead. I

already feel a great sense of camaraderie between us. He seemed to me a

brother though we had hardly spoken.

“Did you save my life?”

“As you were, you would perish. Your determination drew me to you like a

beacon. You spoke much in your sleep. There is a farm somewhere far away.

But there is a town much closer, to the north. We travel north, you are light

as rain and weak. Surrender to sleep and take in the night.”

Emaciated and worn out, the town will not wait for us if we do not eat first.

Even if we are careful, I only brought enough from the cave for a few days,

and even then just for myself. We will have to travel fast. I find myself

grasping at conversation, though he seems content with the silence

Something has changed, in a place that was barren only days before, now

there again is life and motion inside my chest. It was the shuttle of course,

that has brought this on, startling a flight or fight response that was delayed

well behind the mark. This shuttle has now become the focal point of the

journey into what I am, where I am, and who I am. In an effort for answers

I found myself pacing the area. Not a single footprint was seen in any

direction. The shuttle itself was merely a shell.

“It was empty when it landed, wasn’t it?”, I asked myself aloud

Protection nodded.

“The town to the north, is it possible we’ll find answers there?”

“If you believe, we will”

And the path was set. We broke new ground, but inside I was left behind.

For time there was not a thought or action I could control. No matter who

I actually am, what has occurred in my short waking life has become some

sort of solid intangible.

For whatever the reason is, I left all the innocence in the dirt at the foot of

that heretic craft. Whoever it belonged to has since entered my mind and

will not be removed. Whether it is by force or by choice I know not, it isn't

my place to say...

The beauty of the whole thing is that there is barely enough left of me to

understand anything at all. This mentality is not becoming of me. Any inner

strength I now possess was not there in the life before this place. That

shuttle changed me, or maybe that's just what I'd like to believe. Maybe it

just woke me up- like seeing your reflection in a deep cold pool before the

splash that comes when you drown. But if I really am here now, as whoever

I am supposed to be, whatever this husk has deemed its purpose, then it is

for a reason.

So I will search for this traveller, this un-welcomed guest, and I will not stop

until it brings me back full circle. I will not stop until it leads me back to my

comfortable place in that lost desert, fixed into the purple sky while the wind

of the wasteland whitewashes my face. And all at once I am frozen. The

unholy fear of the great unknown is at times both a propeller and an anchor.

I can't move, but my heart rattles my body endlessly, the loud rhythm of

blood rupturing behind my eyes. The fear drives me forward and pulls me

backwards into the darkness.

"Who has landed here?" I ask the sky.

"Someone you must find", answers my Protection.

And so it was. But for now I could be weak. Companionship is a strength no

burden can disrupt, a gift no one can take away.

Now I am a child, wishing he would take my hand and walk me home. The

search begins with this ghost town strewn out before us. Already I can feel

it is not a place of comfort, nor the untouched place that I saw from that

isolated peak. It is a broken house that a family has forgotten.

We were close, so close in fact that we could feel the emptiness but it

didn’t matter, it was right there in front of us, seven broken buildings

clustered around that fat facility. I found my feet gathering speed, the panic

swelling inside. I desperately needed to find somebody, anybody that could

acknowledge that shuttle, to acknowledge that we weren’t alone. I felt

myself stuck in a paradox, speeding towards the ruins, but it all became

slower with each passing step.

It will all go away as soon as we find another voice, another face,

somewhere in that heap. But where exactly are we? And just like that it

was fully realized. I had no clue where we were. I'd known before that we

were lost but suddenly everything felt far too out of place. But nothing I've

encountered has felt even remotely familiar. Was I simply swept away to be

alone in an alien country with this strange friend? I walk closer to him now,

whatever it is and wherever we are- he will protect me.

Though I still wonder where this desert is and how far have I been removed.

Where exactly had I been taken from? Suddenly two words appears behind

my closed eyes; “The Siblings”, but what did they mean? Soon after another

the thought another spasm of realization found itself deep inside my skull.

Whatever The Siblings were they conjured fresh images of home. It was a

feeling that I haven't felt in what seems to be as long as I have lived. Yet if

I'm alive in the here and now, what came before?

“Protection, what are the Siblings?"

"They are mountains of a personal matter, Jovah. Mountains of a place and

time nearly unfathomable here" he recited it as if he were waiting to be

asked.

We were within a mile or two of that old town now, but each step was

bringing something deep inside to the surface and again the quiet rage was

forming. This time it was born in my forgetfulness. The storm had come and

my feet were bound. My vision began to bubble as I reached out for support.

Protection was there, but the question remained. Where was I?

6

And so the thought began to form and take root. To find myself lost

and obsolete, there must be sinister motives. With that very thought a name

burned itself into my closed eyes.

"Merzbow Consortium", I thought and stopped. Though no sooner had the

words manifested themselves, Protection had stopped several feet in front of

me and was scanning my face with grim concern.

"You can't always trust your mind, Jovah"

That was the second time I'd heard that name, my name. But if I could not

even convince myself to recollect the truth, what did this sentinel know of

my life?

"Trust and believe when I say that you should not always trust your mind

but if you place your faith in me you will be rewarded."

With these words I let some distance divide us as we approached the first

building. Now I was more cautious and confused than ever before. Entering

the town, protected on all sides by the looming cliffs and ridges; we felt safe

and exposed; contained but trapped.

The first building was certainly of a military nature; it had a small fortified

entrance bracing out into a trench that nearly touched the town's opposing

walls. I now found myself leading Protection, I could not control my frantic

pace because I knew I was being directed somewhere.Soon after we

circumnavigated the defensive trench, I began to feel something strange.

I closed my tired eyes and exhaled slowly. I opened my eyes to find a long

low building hidden under a vast array of surveillance equipment. Across the

front read "MERZBOW CONSORTIUM"

6

Then all of a sudden we were there. My worried thoughts had become

a physical reassurance. But it meant that at the very least, some semblance

of my brain was still alright.

"From here on we must not rush or force conclusions" confessed Protection

as he put his arm out across my chest to bar me from rushing past.

What had felt like months of cold ignorance was kindled by those two

words. But he was right of course. Progress was within reach and we must

be meticulous in the search for answers. Before we entered Merzbow we

surveyed the other structures.

The oblong bunker was the closest to the entrance and now sat on our right.

Across old roads and un-maintained fields were three other buildings along

the town's south-east side.

I could make out a small two floor building, a place of worship that seemed

vaguely familiar, and straight ahead laid an assimilation refinery. The

description of these places came rushing to the front of my mind. What

were they, and how was I able to distinguish them so easily when I had

forgotten my own name?

Directly behind us lay the vast facility, a place that made my skin itch

to look at. All these buildings had names but for whatever reason the words

and letters were jumbled and illegible. It was like trying to read through an

unfocused lens We prepared to enter Merzbow, the mysterious building of

questions and answers.

I think we had been the first people that had ever been inside; the state of

cleanliness and the musty smell didn't suggest otherwise. It felt like we were

migrating with the sick and the lost. Organized chaos consumed offices,

tables and indeed every object under that roof. Like a golden path leading us

home there were many ways to go but only ever one option. Straight, right,

left, up the stairs, left, left. It felt like it happened with my eyes closed, I

was being carried off. Down that long gloomy hall we found more questions

than anything else. I stood still, shaking and sweating in the hall way.

Protection peaked in the doorway and led me in. I had been watched since

I woke up. A large desk was pushed up against the wall between two large

broken windows that had the shades drawn. The entire side of the room had

pictures stuck to it.

Some had fallen, while others seemed to be decades old. But all of them

were of me, of us, of him. Face down in the dirt, the long walk to the cave,

even me asleep in the back of that welcoming hole. There were pictures of

Protection to, in all of these places.

He had been following me since I'd arrived. In every single picture, he was

looking right at the camera. With several in hand I gazed at him. To think,

that he had brought me here and the whole time I'd felt that I was being

called from within, from something that I could contain. Then I knew,I threw

them in his face and choked him by the collar, white knuckled.

"It's you! You brought me here, you made me forget!” I screamed in his

face.

His expression never changed, when I saw the pictures, when I wanted to

kill him, even as he effortlessly sent me tumbling through the now defunct

table.

"Jovah, your heart knows you are wrong, your mind is in a sad state and

you cannot afford to disbelieve me."

Every time he spoke my anger dissipated, which made me hate him even

more.

In a white hot rage I scanned the room with blurry eyes. There was one

stack that stood out from the rest.

MERZBOW CONSORTIUM

Biopharm and Technologies

JOVAH ZURI

(ESSENTIAL)

A detailed account of my every move. Merzbow had abducted and drugged

me, then left me to die in the desert. And this foreigner must be the link to

my actions.

"Jovah, please look at me. You cannot struggle through this alone. I am

not a device of malice, nor an object to record your movements. I have not

done wrong by you in any form, and I have no intention to. I found you

dying and vowed to help you find answers. I promise that I am not one of

your problematic questions."

I did not know what to say, in the very moment I saw the list on the

opposite wall.

MERZBOW CONSORTIUM SCHAW

de re AGRICOLA ZAITSEV

NASH MONSON

LEXICO

I knew these words, these names, these families. They were my captors,

every last one of them. I peered past the drapes and out the broken window

across the small town.

The buildings with the broken words, they each belonged to one of the

families. Where was this information before? Why was I so certain it was

true?

"These families have invested a lot in you Jovah"

"How do you know this!” I yelled, beating fist to his chest, "what do you

know about me!"

"I know only as much as you do my friend." He hugged me, and I did not

resist.

There was more in that room though, behind an adjacent wall there was

video footage. It ran from when I woke up right up until when we climbed

the stairs of this very building. In the area with the footage, there was a

map, a location, a destination for us. It was their meeting place, it was the

quarry! Judging the distance we'd traversed it was not to be a short journey.

I knew that the time had come to leave. We had no reservations of staying,

but even still... There could be dirty secrets lurking in this forgotten place.

On our way back downstairs, on either side of the hallway were sterile rooms

that told of misguided experiments and exploits.

They were rooms that did not seem to be there on the way up, that we

didn't even see twenty minutes ago. Protection hung close behind like an

overcast sky.

I could feel his guilt and worry and I felt that I would tear myself apart

in fear of disappointing him. He would never endanger me; I didn't need

him to tell me that. We were as one as none, as lifeless as our past and as

uncertain as the future. I felt that I might collapse with every other foot

fall. I knew that Merzbow was a bad place. I felt a great urge to distance

ourselves from its reaches. Before we could begin to leave and search for

more cryptic illusions and notions past the farthest cliff, we needed to gather

intelligence about these families, as much as we could.

Though, even before we undertook that task, we needed to eat. my

fingernails had begun to grow again, my suit was nearly void of the all-

sustaining fungus. Unless we found more or an alternative there was no

way we would make it past the facility. The sweat began, and the tremors

followed. My legs became rusted out and weak.

Running out of that lifeblood was an issue too grim to consider, but even

still I felt myself become an emotional wreck in the grips of some drawn

out addiction. I needed to eat, it had kept me alive and well so far and now

there was two of us. I would not allow him to starve.

A sharp wind was there to greet us in the broken doorway. I could clearly

read MONSON across the dead grass, hanging broken over the entrance of

that towering monolith. The building did not fit with the dead community,

it was starting to feel like someone had dropped it from the sky. Every now

and then I would stare upwards, past any number of finite objects to be

absorbed in the pastel sky.

The blue blinking light was still there to remind me that I am still here.

"We may find more ghosts than answers here"

He would be right of course; we were always thinking the same thing.

"We need to come here last, before our minds turn hostile we need to test

the waters of these other dwellings. If this place houses darkness then first

we must arm ourselves with light."

So we passed it by, walking again towards the bunker- the ZIETSEV. We

went down half a floor into the low fortified trench. It spread outwards some

eighty feet to either side. In front of us stood a large door, half opened and

inviting us further inwards. In the deepest part we came across another

room very similar to what we had found in the MERZBOW. But where there

had been photographs and logs of us, we found only a strung out account of

historical events.

There had been a turning point in our way of life, the process of creation had

been unlocked, unhinged. A great power had strangled the resistance out of

the people in an attempt to monopolize the human race.

At first it seemed all that could follow was disgrace and horror, but

somewhere still lived a force willing to fight for the chance to continue the

human's legacy. Someone was trying to salvage the decency that remained,

to ensure that there would be another generation capable of righting their

wrongs.

And these buildings, these families, it was them that were trying to stop the

dreamers and the wishful thinkers. The great powers of society had joined

forces to edit their story. It was one more reason to regard the map as our

only clear objective, to find the answers that these families were hiding.

There was more to read but we knew time was growing short. There was

no food, no rations, and no signs of life. The place was as empty with us as

without us. There were still buildings to search. With these new findings, I

became convinced that when we left the strange place we would be better

prepared than when we arrived, then we were even now.

"Soon, we will know too much"

And of course, he was right.

8

We exited through the far end of the trench, as far from the MERZBOW

as possible. We returned again to the cracked dry soil, almost directly in

front of us stood a two floor glass cube. The building was not large in size,

but still managed to impose on our waning comfort.

"LEXICO" it read, the building was in good condition; the whole town was

considering how long it seemed since anyone had been in our place. The

inside felt both sterile and inorganic. The temperature was noticeably lower

than outside. My skin began to prick, shivers raising every hair on my

body to full attention. The open concept of the interior allowed us to see all

corners of the structure. The second floor was more of a serious of runners

or scaffolding.

It was on this floor that we could see an area similar to what we had

encountered so far in the other two buildings.

In one corner of the upper area, we found a near identical table to the one I

had fractured in MERZBOW. Four pages were evenly aligned on the surface,

patiently arranged and waiting for my eyes.

Genetic Modifications; a Keystone to Human Evolution

"All new practices pose a threat to the current way of thinking, they always

have. By penalizing the practice of genetic modifications, we are giving the

impression that there is something to fear. Embracing this un-traditional

method, this scientific breakthrough, will teach the population that there is

much to learn and little to fear. A totalitarian mentality of blocking access

to this technology only adds cause and reason for public demonstrations

and rebellion. If the government is not able to stabilize relations between

the investors and their public persona, it is likely that this modification

technology could lead to a haemorrhage in society that will set the efforts of

the scientific community back some 50 years. If this escalates in the fashion

we are now witnessing in China's genetic production facilities we are likely to

find ourselves in the midst of the civil war of our species, with casualties far

exceeding either the bubonic plague or the black death. If issues of national

security and private organizations benefiting from this new technology are

not properly resolved, we as a race will find ourselves struggling to find our

future and our legacy."

-Boron V Lexico

The information that we had been finding in these buildings was all ringing

true. My concerns about my place in this world were rapidly growing.

The information I have assimilated all point to some large event, or series of

events, I cannot place myself in them though.

I know what is being said, but I feel unable to fully digest the severity or

to determine how this all effects me. How could such serious events not

trigger a memory, a place, a name or face? In a brief moment of realization

I had never felt further from an answer or a cause. I believe something has

become of me. Something has happened, something so crucial, that I now

find myself utterly removed from the plight of my world.

I am left feeling alienated and burdened. Someone has reached deep

into my head and collected all the valuables. To say that my findings so

far in this town are of no consequence would be a lie; I must continue to

harvest data where ever it presents itself. There was a great comfort on my

shoulders when I found myself standing before the religious temple that

bore the name of SCHAW. I felt more at peace than ever before.

The feelings of distant familiarity bestowed me with new-found strength. We

were in a blue room, it was rich with imagery that calmed my anxious heart.

I stopped to kneel inside the door of the empty room. I could feel the efforts

that had gone into its presentation, its preservation. Three candles stood in

the middle, arranged around an empty altar.

I closed my eyes and found that they would not open. A cold touch against

my chest ushered me forward several steps; my feet marching in their own

private arrangement; just perfect and regular.

I made several turns around the room only to find myself kneeling again.

Through darkness there was a clear voice.

I held out both arms and rose to one knee, while I listened to the voice

recite some ancient oath. It seemed hours before the voice called for light

and when it did, my eyes indeed opened again. I was in the middle of the

candles, my raised arms just above the pedestal.

As I stood up to back away I could only marvel at the art represented

on the four walls. The symbolism eluded me but I could not look away.

Protection had been there all along, leading me in my ceremony to the

forgotten causes. The weak foundation on which I entered now felt more

sincere and structured. My anxiety had all but dissipated by the time we

were back outside.

I truly believe that home is close. The time I spent in temple reaffirmed my

commitment to return there safely. We rested on the ground to collect our

thoughts and eat all but the very last of what I still carried with us. Our next

step was to see the excavation site. It had left an ugly divot in the rock wall.

Standing in the middle was a small building with dual rails leading towards

the fallen rock. Inside was a map of the surrounding area, and still there was

nothing I could recognize. Scattered were areas marked in different colours.

My heart raced, it was locations of the fungus. The notion that we could soon

re-supply ourselves was the pinnacle of my new found good mood. There

even appeared to be some near where we were. There was a note beside the

map.

"Efforts have been made to contain the fungus in the old cellar. The man has

been dealt with, and the premises cleaned, he will not find us”

-de re Agricola

The signature matched the name on the front of the building, the fifth

family. The only place that could possibly contain the room described was

indeed the large central structure.

"Before we make haste for our own good, we must finish this haphazard

discovery of the details surrounding you. What we cannot understand now

will likely prove pivotal at another time."

And so we again avoided the towering building and chose to traverse its

northern side and find the last inhabitant of the miserable place. NASH was

a triangular complex that composed of two long corridors. The whole place

was surrounded by a high wall. The security was trivial since the singular

entrance had been left open. A gate or check point had once existed, but

now it stood inviting us in. There was no choice of direction; the interior had

all but collapsed. In the only accessible room we found the last answers that

waited us in the mysterious town.

There were blueprints for some kind of vessel. It was a bizarre design of

a toroid with one end pulled out to extreme dimensions. Stranger yet, the

entire craft seemed not to be made together, but formed of six or seven

interconnecting sub-structures. At the top of the page was printed TAUERET.

Unable to control myself I craned my neck out the window I had to reassure

myself that the comforting light was still watching over me, still guiding me

home...When I could no longer see it in orbit it was safe to look away. My

attention fell to a single sheet of words, a list of names that lay in front of

the TAUERET's blueprints.

Chief Medical Commander Worshipful Scribe

Secondary Medical First Cadet Symbolist

Chief Metallurgist Osiris Director of Genetics

Communication liaison Learned Traveller Stable Mind

Governing Rule The Hollow Vessel

In this abstract list of names I felt the aching touch of connectedness;

familiarity. I picked it up and squeezed it to my chest in a half clenched fist.

For some reason I didn't want to let it go, as if I had before and that was

why I now found myself here. Some of those names hinted at great things.

They told of potential and productivity. But the last two... three... four, they

told of nothing at all.

The Learned Traveller, The Stable Mind, The Governing Rule; of these I was

none.

The Hollow Vessel, an emptiness awaiting purpose that was me, that was

Jovah Zuri. I had never been so sure of myself. Even when found in haste,

an epiphany is no less true.

"We are almost free of this place; try not to dwell in the minds of lesser

men. If this is you and these are us", he gestured to the list, "then soon we

will find some form of truth, glowing as bright as the light that shines down

on us"

We both lost focus, stuck in the orbiting light yet again.

Inside the map, tucked into the compartment of my suit on my left hand

side, the list was safe and I promised never to let the names go again.

We slowly moved around the south of the large facility until we were

crowned with its shadows. The massive building stood some five stories

high, the only floor was on ground level. There were mounted augers

pointing out the windows at regular intervals, two conveyor belts ran the

full length of the interior, they were divided by a grating in the floor with a

radius of some 15 feet.

We had found each building in varying states of disarray but where we stood

now, the central building, had been outright cleaned. The unmistakable

scent of sterile cleaner hung palpable in the air. It was impossible to judge

the purpose of the facility, there was no trace of particulate, dust, pulp or

debris.

Through the slits of the large grate a light was visible some distance below

our feet. There was another level below us. In the moments that followed,

a great guttural sound rose from somewhere deep within the structure. I

became overwhelmed, my body forgetting its functions. Soon I was lying

flat against the cold floor, my ear pushed so hard against the grate that

fresh blood licked the metal. My heart was palpitating, trying to escape me

entirely. It wasn't until Protection had come and removed me from source

of the swollen acoustics that I was able to clearly hear the voice. The sound

was the baritone chant of a religious recluse.

It haunted me.

There was a trap door on the floor between the conveyors. Approaching the

cellar entrance, the rippling shadows of something high in the rafter caught

my eye.

Draped overhead was a colossal flag. Faded rust tones; torn and nearly split,

the flag hung tattered and neglected. In the top corner of the flag there

was a golden five-sided star proud and tall. To its immediate right, arching

downwards, were five smaller identical stars huddled around the largest in a

tight and disciplined semi-circle.

A long time passed. An anger and frustration I had felt before, far away

immediately presented itself. The Flag of the Families commanded attention

and fear.

The parties that united under those colours and those stars had taken

the other travellers away from me. That flag and its founders were the

sole reason that I was now alone and lost. Depression was on the verge

of overwhelming me. Just then, I felt the strong warm hand of Protection

resting on the back of my neck, just like that those feelings were gone. The

anger was still there, but the need to brood and feel sorry for myself had

disappeared – like morning fog in the warm sun.

I cried though. I became an infant and Protection held me closer still.

When the rattling of my chest had finally ceased I took two deep breaths

and ventured down into that open sore. Artificial light was all around us

though there was no clear source. As we walked single file down the narrow

strip, the chanting voice boomed. The chorus greeted us with a percussive

rapture. We were walking towards it now; the sound was growing and

growing.

Ahead of us the path opened into a large room. As we entered the area

directly below the grate, the chanting stopped abruptly. As I pondered the

cause my thoughts were stopped short. Protection jolted me back by the

collar. For a few seconds I was weightless, hovering on the cliff-face again.

But here I was on the edge of a large hole. There was still another floor

below us. We were forced again single file to travel the outer-side of the

collection room. I put one shaky foot in front of the other, never taking my

eyes off of the doorway on the opposite side. As we breached the exit the

voice bellowed out again, now it was below and behind us.

We had doubled the distance since the main floor before we had finally

found the cellar's sub-basement. The voice now followed us, low, ethereal

and barely audible. Climbing down the stairs we had turned back on our

path.

The voice was now clawing at us through walls of some undetermined depth.

It was first in front, and then beside, and finally lingering far behind us

again. We did not wait long before the very bottom of the cylindrical room

was there to swallow us whole. This time the voice faltered, paused and then

continued. It conveyed a sense of urgency now, a frantic rushed pace. There

was a solid door to our left, no groove or impression, handle or hole.

Something had been sealed inside. I could not stop for long to think. I

began to run through the widening passageway. I continued full speed into

the far wall, it crumbled and turned to dust. Coughing and confused my

senses returned to me. Crawling to my knees all had become clear in the

silence. In front of me lay the fungus, as much as the cave had hidden, but

this was a much darker shade of blue.

I began to eat it with both hands, hardly able to chew or swallow; I had

almost forgotten about Protection, soon after I forgot everything. But then

I remembered everyone if only for ever so briefly. In a split second the

mission returned to me, the anxiety that followed left me dead to the hidden

world.

Now I truly am weightless. I am much closer to the Taueret now,

closer than I've been since.... Its healing lights nearly touched me. I know

I am not the hollow vessel that was in the desert. The shuttle in question

was now coming towards me, straight from the belly of the ship. I see the

constellations I had rediscovered floating in the air of the cave. It is closing

in now; I am in awe. And then, it is clear. The shuttle is my incubator and

for the first time I witness myself, inside I am warm, safe and asleep. I

reach out and grasp the side. Inside is a mirror, I lie still and content.

Now both of us, me and my sleeping self, are hurtling towards that planet,

though it is not Earth, there is a hole visible from beyond the atmosphere.

Then we are in the exosphere, the cold thin air is pushing against me. Next

we are in the stratosphere and we are separated. I can see my other self,

now he is terrified and wide awake. He is already so lost. I see him gaining

distance from the craft. I see myself disappear into that vast alien sea of

sand. The shuttle vanished into a broken cloud. He was aborted from the

metal womb, its empty canister floating down to where I had first found it.

But he spoke to me, "You will be safe on the Farm",

But I kept falling, I fell and I fell and I fell. The desert, the cave, the cliff and

the town all came into view and then disappeared behind the horizon. I was

on-course with the ground at terminal velocity. When I opened my eyes

and sat up, I could barely see the tip of the production facility behind us.

Protection was ahead of me, but we were no longer alone. He shouldered all

of the weight of a frail wilted man. It was the source of the throaty gospel

which even now continued. He was an incarnation of everything that was

Struggle.

He was encased in a tattered skirt and the faintest trace of white smoke that

still clung to his head. They stopped.

"I knew you would come, Jovah," he croaked, "the three of us are closer

than you know."

"Were you what was trapped behind that door?" though I already knew.

"When they came to clean up after their mess, I was the only one still there,

I had been left behind. I was too weak to argue, too old for purpose. They

would not kill me, nor would they help,” he paused, “So it was my voice that

led you to me? Well, that is something I suppose."

"Who came, who left you in there?" I had so many questions; even if it was

under hostile circumstances he still had the human contact that I had been

yearning for.

They both stopped, they were still several feet ahead. He looked at me,

blinking; there was a lifetime of worry behind those muddy eyes.

"Why the families did Jovah. Merzbow did", he said, “They know you are

here, but they are not yet ready to meet you. Now, be silent and let this old

man try to walk by himself."

He tried to shrug off Protection who would not cease in his aid. He was

unapologetic, his words scared me. But I did not persist. The three of us

were walking silently, the two of them in front of me with their shadows

hanging out long on my right side. The ground here was harsh clay, a vast

dry bed from some long since deceased body of water.

It had been several days since I could even see the town to the south. I'd

been thinking a lot of what we'd found there.

They had been expecting me, they had left items for me to find. They had

virtually stripped the facility of everything that could explain its purpose.

They trapped an elderly man, they left me hungry for knowledge and they

knew everything about my life that I no longer did. But stranger than

anything was how I found myself after, lying in the dirt, while Protection

helped Struggle. But I must have been conscious, I'd walked somehow, I

wasn't carried by him this time, somehow things were just missing, there

was a blank sheet of time between the past and the present. When I thought

of that, I remembered one thing....

"I will be safe on the farm", I whispered.

They stopped cold, though they couldn't possibly have heard me.

"You will be safe there Jovah, as safe as possible; safer than anywhere else

in fact, but it is still a long, long way from here"

My mind turned to my companions. My anxiety hid in the back of my

mind. With Protection, I had become dependent and unable to remain self-

sufficient. Though we talked rarely, we had a deep connection; it felt like

family, only closer. He would carry me when I could not walk, reassure me

when I could not cope. He brought back the control in my life, allowing me

to think clearly for the first time. He has no equal.

10

I had kept my distance from them, only a few feet away. Struggle

barely spoke, but the chanting had become my walking mantra, even if I

didn't know the words. When I came close to Struggle, my worry faded. He

exuded such tension and depression that I couldn't help but table my own

issues.

He gave me perspective, even if I didn't know his history; I laughed at

the thought since I barely knew my own. All I knew was that Taueret

had birthed me. Seeing a light that far from me and realizing it may be

the closest place I had to a home, to any sense of purpose, was almost

too much. I walked faster until I was accompanying the pair of them on

Struggle's other side. My mind wandered with my feet, this day felt endless.

My thoughts soon turned back to those other Travellers, those poor lonely

souls; of them I knew I was one. I needed to find them though. The Farm,

the words themselves brought strong feelings, always of the Siblings.

And while the contact with this new companion warmed my heart and gave

me some hope, the only thing that would ever matter to me until I returned

home was Protection.

It felt like our true strength and potential was only fully realized when we

were together. I almost believed he had never existed before he had found

me.

Between the two of us there would always be strength to share. I had never

witnessed him sad or guilt-ridden, upset, or inconsumable but at the first

sign of any of those afflictions I know I could set aside my current agenda

to solve his self-doubt. We had been together for my whole life and he had

been the driving force behind my ability to continue, to say any less would

be an injustice to the love we now shared.

I named him Protection not for the lack of a name, but for the weight of the

word. To me he was everything. It is quite likely I would have died in my

sleep or shortly thereafter had he not made himself infinitely available. The

idea that he was a responsibility, a precious cargo that must remain safe,

had become a guiding philosophy in my prolonged pilgrimage of the grim

undeterminable. As long as he was there I would not succumb to the blights

of depression. I knew the illness was based off events that had happened

before I woke up, or even in the reasoning for where and how I now found

myself.

I was starting to truly believe that there were things I had forgotten on

purpose. I felt there had been accountability placed on me reflecting a

grand responsibility I had been given no choice but to shoulder alone. I had

become the Hollow Vessel.

It was a name we had found in the only settlement we had encountered now

so many countless behind us.

But perhaps it wasn't just a memory of the words we had found. It now

seemed possible that I was the Hollow Vessel that was mentioned there.

If this was the case, I faced the chance that those other thirteen names

belonged to equally broken people, trying to salvage their brains in a

situation not unlike my own. Denial and self doubt soon presented me with

less positive alternatives.

They may all have found their own purpose, excelling productively in their

respective fields. I didn't feel that I’d been designated with skill or value

partially since I could not remember whose life I had once lived.

Worse yet, what if no one else had made it? What if a responsibility I could

not even remember was no longer in the hands of the whole group but now

me alone? Had I already failed? Was it too late?

"Jovah, while you are alive and well it will never be too late."

In his loving face and words I found strength and comfort. In the heavenly

light that orbited above our heads, I found the strength to carry on, to some

day return safe to the home that I longed for, wherever it lay. All I knew

was that it was somewhere between the Siblings, mountains near the farm.

Among us bloomed brotherhood. Our lives now demanded each other.

If either were to disappear, I would surely never step foot on the farm

again. There was something strange about our situation. It had been long

enough that I could no longer remember all the names of the families; all

that remained was Merzbow and the flag. I stopped suddenly; my heart

was beating on the outside of my chest. Quickly I began opening all the

compartments on the right side of my suit. The fungus was there to greet

me, so I ate. We all ate, even though for once it had not been what I was

looking for. I waited until they were both some distance ahead, then I

clutched the list. Three names were circling through my head and I spoke

the words silently.

"Director of Genetics.....Osiris.....The Stable Mind...A best friend, a sister

and a lover" but I could not remember which belonged to which, though it

hardly mattered. Fresh blood found its way into my mouth. I was smiling

through alkaline in an effort to use muscle that had all been stripped

from me. But in this moment happiness held me in such a grip that it was

uncontainable.

I started to laugh. I started to howl. I started to scream.

Protection was on me in moments. My mind was fading, stuck half in the

transient twilight of this ghostly purgatory, and half in what had come

before. I laughed and cried, smiling until my face was patchwork.

"Dear son, you will find no helpful place in dementia. Trust me, of this I am

sure."

I could hear him clearly at first, but soon his words fell quiet far below

me. The darkness had returned and the light was closer than ever. More

importantly though, that depressing planet I found myself on was gone and

strange others had taken its place. Three different planets churned against

the sky, each was welcomed by a gift from the Taueret. It was in this

instance the screaming the terror and the realization had truly begun. The

first shuttle was launched into the middle of a colossal ocean, the ejected

soul drifted down unconsciously like a flower petal to their watery grave.

The second met disaster as well, among the tallest mountains that there

were. Even from above I witnessed the impact and the ensuing loss of life.

The last shuttle brought me back to where I had began...

Though I could see the fate ahead of her, looking anywhere else was

impossible, the third shuttle did not open. The malfunction was the

culmination of 300 years of tedious, laborious work stripped away in a

vapour. It crashed into a desert, much like myself. But I will never know

which of us was truly the lucky one. The dull thud that voided the carriage of

life left me humbly educated.

I knew it had been my sister inside, in the moments that followed I could

hear her sweet song, the one that held at bay the entirety of the hopeless

cause we had been raised for- what we had been designed for. The song she

sang was the gospel of Struggle. It was all that remained of sweet Cai'lynn

and the home we could not share again.

I woke up shivering in Protection's arms- we had stopped at the edge of the

clay-lands that now raised itself into a great hump above what was to come.

Ahead of us now lay the first foliage I had ever seen but the most amazing

sight of all was the water, actual running water. It was so far removed from

the joke I had found in the cave. Some miles away a river had found its own

home, twisting and dissecting itself around the fields and hills ahead. We

must have been ascending higher our whole journey. The Taueret was there,

directly above our heads to greet us at the cusp, and I promised her that I

would return home, safely to the farm.

I felt abused and abandoned. Cruel fate had gently lifted all the things that

were important back into my life, only to throw them away like a spoiled

child. What divinity there was had shackled me in golden ignorance for a

great expanse of time only to bring a pandemic of truth and what had been

to weigh down my calloused head. It was no longer just about me. I still

could not remember my objective but I was now certain that it was my

burden and mine alone to bear; they would not have died in vain.

"No Jovah, not alone, never alone. You will never be alone again" and I

swear that he chuckled as he turned his back, and the familiar song began

anew.

From a place he did not know, in a time that was mine, that was somewhat

better if not all together worse. I was clear minded enough to know that i

had not spoken, not a single word. Protection set me down, as he walked

away the anxiety returned. I lay fetal, soon I found the map in my hands for

the first time since we'd left. I would get answers there, from the families.

But not only would I get answers, I would find a way back to the Taueret,

and they would lead me home.

But first we must eat.

--