In a circular silver, well-polished chamber room, a solitary bald human man is seated in the middle of it. All he has on are pure white clothes; just a loose-fitting shirt and a pair of pants of a light fabric. The clinical-looking, yet unconstricted attire, is meant as a form for comfort, as he maintains being deeply engaged in meditation. The man slowly breathes in and out as he keeps himself in a precise, crossed-legged position. His arms rest upon his knees, with both hands open and the palms up.
The air is still in this spacious chamber, with only a faint rhythmic hum reverberating in the background. The sphere-shaped room echos the sound in a melodic fashion, causing him to mimic the motion as he breathes to the tempo. The reflection of him on the brushed-dull metallic surface is nothing more than a vague blur, a white and flesh coloured blob without any definition or detail.
His eyes remain tightly closed. His thoughts are purposeful, steadfast, and of a single purpose:
There is no space.
There is no time.
The cosmic aether must flow.
I am the vessel that steers through it.
I am the engine that drives it.
I travel from one point to another.
I see everything and nothing.
Existence and non-existence, I point the way, and travel to the destination.
Slowly, he opens his eyes, a vision appears on the smooth metal surface; the cosmos reveals itself before him, like a round window appearing out of nowhere and shows everything with depth and clarity. Billions of stars burn brightly in the void of deep space, orbiting planets near them shimmer and shine, like sprinkled glitter on a black sheet of paper. As the meditating man moved his eyes, so too did the image; It widened to a panoramic view, so that no matter where he looked, the interstellar vision would be always present before him. He stopped and focused his gaze on one particular spot. He raised his right hand and pointed to a light that was furthest away.
I shall move there.
I am already there.
I am orbiting the planet closest to it.
I feel like I’m in two places at once.
I am the arrow waiting to be launched from the bow.
All it takes is a word, a word to send me from one point to another.
Say the word… say the word and take me there.
He lowered his pointing finger and continued to stare at the light.
“Go…” He stated softly.
Within an instant, the section of space he looked at swirled and stretched, the entire chamber was now a vast tunnel of twisting space and vibrant colours of spinning lights. It looked as if he was levitating, floating through a vast maelstrom corridor and heading for the bright dot at the other end. His meditative position never changed as he glided through it and kept his eyes squarely focused on the object approaching quickly. Once it appeared in full view, the man simply blinked, and the twisting corridor of light instantly disappeared.
He was now face to face with a large blue-green planet that orbited around a bright orange-yellow sun. He was hovering over the top part of the planet. As he turned his gaze around, the vision continued to show his surroundings. He could see a large hulking spaceship behind, as if it were brushing against his back.
“We are here…” He softly spoke again. “Your new home awaits.”
Slowly, he closed his eyes. The vision disappeared and the metallic room took form again. He was no longer floating, or giving the appearance of doing so, and was sitting firmly on the base of the chamber, just as he had always been. The rhythmic pulsations began to slow, his breathing became normal, and he focused his thoughts again.
Time is restored.
Space exists.
I am of this place and of this time.
I exist.
The ship exists.
We are here, on the far side of the galaxy.
I must let go of the aether.
Let it go… let it go.
He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. The chamber was now quiet. He unfolded his legs, gave them a rub to bring the feeling back, and proceeded to stand up. He was shaken at first, having to sit for so long, but adjusted quickly and walked over to the far right side. He placed a hand on the curved section and commanded it to open. A green light flashed where his hand was, and the door became visible as it pulled away and moved off to the side. The sudden rush of air resonated in the round room and caused the man to flinch slightly from the sound. He exited the place and stepped into a new section.
A group of people were waiting for him there. They were dressed in white medical gowns, masks, and protective gear. They inspected the man diligently; using medical scanners, checking his eyes, his dexterity, snapping their fingers by his ears, and asking him random questions:
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“Who are you? Where are you? What year is it? How do you feel?”
These were standard procedures after coming out of the chamber. He was used to such things. He obliged them and answered each one.
“I am Paul Carver—The Mind-skipper, we are on the interstellar carrier vessel, The Faraday. We are currently in orbit of our destination, Daedalus Sigma-nine-nine-five. It’s twenty five-seventy two, and I feel…” he paused for a second, trying to think. He gave a slight glare to one of the gowned observers, tapping on a pad each time he answered and smirked. “I feel just fine.”
The medical observer nodded at his answer and typed it in. Once they were satisfied, they handed him a pair of socks and boots, as well as a plain white-jumpsuit, and led him to the change room. Paul redressed himself, removing the other garb, and placed them into a small container opposite a bench he could sit on. He gave a long sigh, stretched out his back, and started to yawn while scratching his belly.
“You are clear to proceed.” A female voice announced over a speaker high above. “The next travel time is in four days. Enjoy your rest till then.”
Paul Carver passively nodded in response, and headed out of the change room. He then stepped into a large corridor, grey-metallic in design, full of panoramic windows along the side, which displayed a view of the blue-green planet he had envisioned. Paul stood before the window and took in the sight. Sometimes it was hard to believe what he was seeing with his own eyes. Being in the chamber tends to open your mind to things far beyond your human level of understanding.
Mindskippers are gifted remote-viewing psychics, ones that can manipulate and focus their powers in specially designed chambers. Those chambers help to harness their mental abilities and give them the means to travel anywhere in the universe. Space travel no longer needed huge power sources or engines of unbelievable feats of technology to whisk humanity to the furthest regions of interstellar space—they just needed people like him.
Mindskippers are the navigators, the pilots of the voyage; They are the most important humans of any ship. Paul rarely believed he was, feeling that it was just a job, like any other person serving on board. He’d rather walkabout as a virtual unknown, then be looked on and praised as a god. He was no deity. Paul felt he was just some guy that takes ships from point A to point B on a daily basis. He rubbed his bald head in thought, reflecting on that, and resumed walking down the long ship corridor.
He needed to sleep. The mental and physical strain was always tiring, especially on long destinations such as this. And, although it might be brief to those on the vessel, for those that were the Mindskippers, it could feel like years. The reasoning for that, according to their trainers, was that their minds were actually traveling separately through the cosmic aether for much, much longer. The aether is a slipstream that connects both time and space, and it can put a great strain on one’s own life-force when using it, when the mind carries on beyond the body and drifts through realities where physical laws have no hold. If done improperly, one could be lost in the fabric of the cosmos forever. It’s only happened a few times in the past, as far as he could remember, but it’s always a concern, nevertheless.
* * *
The crew (both military and civilian) had separate corridors to walk through on the ships. It was a necessary precaution. Mindskippers needed a wide birth from anyone after such journeys. Their minds tended to be too sensitive after doing such long sessions, and would often accidentally pick up stray thoughts with those they came in close contact with. A walled partition was usually the best way to contain it, keeping them from having eye to eye contact and zeroing in on those individuals brainwaves. Mindskipperss live in silence for a few days, but once they were well-rested, they could rejoin society as they waited for their next mission.
Paul was just rounding the next corner when he suddenly got a cold shiver down his spine. There was a feeling of dread that washed over him. He turned about sharply, as if someone tapped him on the shoulder. He knew something wasn’t quite right. It was like someone was watching him from a distance. He glanced at few people making their way through the corridor, but no one was just standing there eyeing him. He rubbed his head again, dismissing the feeling, and continued on down the corridor. He wondered if it was just a side-effect from being in and around the chamber. That always occurred to many who did this type of navigating.
The chamber, or The Mirror Room, as some called it, was constructed and purposely shaped to focus human brain waves. Only a handful of people can use this chamber to its full potential. They have to be trained, disciplined, and given lots of psychological tests to make sure they are the best candidate possible. Only the best of the best can remote view and bring an entire vessel from one point of space and time to another. Yet, each person who’s ever been in such a room have often reported feeling afraid or that someone was watching them. A strange feeling that always lingers soon after a journey.
Paul wasn’t immune to such things, either. That sense of fear would always return after a few trips back and forth. He had to reflect on his training and keep those negative thoughts from overwhelming his mind.
“Let it go…” Paul uttered silently. “Just let it go.”
Sleep is what he needed indeed. He hurried to his quarters and continued to repeat the mantra till he reached his room. In four days, he’d be doing this all over again.
* * *
Like all those who were in position, he needed to take drugs to help him get into the process of sleep. A strong sedative with some modified Benzodiazepines tend to help decrease the brain activity and allow for a better rest. If they didn’t take this form of relation, there would be complications, resulting psychotic episodes, such as—mania, psychosis or paranoia. All of which have happened to previous, and even some current navigators on long missions. Thankfully, he’s never had such a schism. He’s learned to take the meds soon after and get as much sleep as possible.
“Four days…” He mused, while swallowing his pills and taking a drink to wash it down. “Maybe I can get at least two full sleeps in before that. But, four days… that’s a stretch…”
He sat down onto his bed, which was more like a cot welded to the metal wall. The mattress was comfortable enough, a sufficient thickness that made it enjoyable to lay down on and aid him on his way to slumber. He gave a quick glance of the room as he stretched and yawned. His room was small and confined. Just enough livable space for him alone; There was a sink, a half kitchenette, a bathroom, and the all important bed. It was perfect. More than any single bachelor would dare to dream to have for their own space. Sure, a love life would be nice, but, when you do this kind of work, you don’t get to meet too many people.
He chuckled, giving some thought on that.
“All that’s missing is the sex, not that want it right now, anyway…”
He leaned back in bed and started to settle in. As he could feel the drugs taking effect, he started to get that feeling again—like someone was there, watching him. He darted his eyes about, trying to catch whatever it was… but there was nothing. He tried to shake it and closed his eyes. Slowly, his mind faded out, he let go of his focus and felt at peace. But as he opened his eyes again briefly again, he saw a faceless being standing over him, a shadowy tall figure with glaring red eyes. Paul’s shock upon seeing it was subdued, the drugs had paralyzed his muscles and dulled his mind.
The shadowy figure was almost translucent, it leaned in closer and fixed its gaze on him intently. In a raspy voice it spoke to him, just as he slipped into unconsciousness.
“I… see… you.”