12-17-13 Novel is three quarters finished. These will show
excepts of drafts. Will post on my blog the updates when I feel it is
time to do it. Since I'm searching for a publisher, I will never put the
entire plot or finished product here.
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Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Last Chapter
3-15-13 Watching his death in silence, each scientist reacted differently;
some teary-eyed, or complacent, some angry, but most of them were stunned. They
had grown to know Ord as an individual. He wasn't an experiment anymore: a
non-entity. He was real to them, a person like themselves, no matter the sex.
Watching Snake, KrutChan, growing younger throughout the Stela record did not
feel strange to the scientists. His life was felt by all of them but in
different ways. Ord's singular life and unique journey; in its immediacy
understood, was suffered differently by each of them.
Static snapping within the field abruptly gave them an altruistic moment, each in their private way, for unanimous realization of what they had witnessed. Awe overcomes then precipitates theories.
"As scientists we are compelled, no, we, MUST postulate Quantum Mechanics has nothing to do with this." Petrovich said. "This presents as reality; this is a charade, as was the Tikalbalahm Site, the Yucatan Man, and especially this amulet or Stel, if you believe this childishness."
"Professor, calm down, relax! You've just saw Quantum energy field theory. Use your insight."
"I am. Is this Quantum Electrodynamics? Or is it Quantum Chromodynamics? Or is it ... what is it? ” he shrugged,” can YOU define it? Hell."
A voice interjected with an opinion, “Something else entirely?" Worried, her words were careful, and hushed. “Quantum Fluctuations as energy, tunneling through time and space has been theorized for years…”
Crackling and snapping, the field was maintaining three dimensions, then showing two dimensions, then back to three. The field was acting like a person blinking his eyes to get different perspectives to the same reality. A glowing text was demonstrating in the field, written in that cryptic Arna/Kril language, floating and stable, the first line changing constantly as it moved down off the field, they watched in curiosity.
"Good question. Look at that immense field. What is it? Hypothetically, we have just observed a phenomenon we have all studied and dismissed. A parallel universe was one of many, according to these Ovals. The electron doesn't revolve around the nucleus like the earth around the sun, we know. We discarded that theory years ago. No one believes that anymore, quantum states and energy levels are reality." Kinnerman said.
"For decades, since Quantum Theory was first postulated in 1900, the electron had been been known to be a wave, after 1900 and 1905, a particle, a discrete quanta, was visualized; a gray-white fog of quantum energy states surrounding the proton. Moving in and out of parallel dimensions, tunneling energy states ...” Kinnerman then conceded ... “or wherever."
Petrovich snapped his head towards Steven Grabowski. "Quantum jumps, Mr. Grabowski. Virtual particles when observed, waves when unobserved, but only as probabilities. This is the Wave-Particle duality."
Grabowski rubbed his forehead and grimaced. "That clears it up for me; you guys are speaking in tongues, way over my head." He blew out a burst of air.
"Let me try to clarify," Katherine Kinnerman said. "In Quantum Mechanics the mathematics does not rely on specific 1 + 1 = 2 answers. The duality problem interferes with your answers. You cannot measure the position AND the momentum of a quanta. Which when observed and measured is a particle, like a photon of light; but when not observed is a wave of light, visualized as a wave hitting a seashore. The quanta or energy states can only be stated as probabilities, not realities, in a moment in time because their position is not known in that moment and changes in less than a nanosecond. That’s a minus nine zeros and a one in time, assuming time exists at that level."
"Shit... the little man who wasn't there." Grabowski snarled and giggled.
Professor Petrovich interrupted, "This is elementary and demeaning. By trying to put mathematics into words you are inaccurately describing the universe. Comprehension can only come with the mathematical sets, and the matrix. Time, Space, and the dimensions beyond cannot be imagined graphically. I cannot describe what I mean. Language is imprecise."
"Elementary? That implies understanding.” Another professor added. “To paraphrase Neils Bohr, who helped us to think of the theory of Quantum Mechanics; if you can understand it you are wrong. No one understands it, Mr. Grabowski, and many of our colleagues disagree vociferously what we are postulating in this conversation."
Another chimed in, "Where is Schrodinger’s cat when you need it.” They all chuckled.
"Precisely…Where is it?” Petrovich answered, then continued, “However, Ms Kinnerman, YOU are the one trying to understand a micro world in macro terms. The GUT theory, the Grand Unified Theory is part of what we are discussing, Mr. Grabowski, the Holy Grail of physics. She means the probabilities, you see ... not reality."
"Universe ... Probabilities ... they are the same. We cannot explain why electricity is in a wire. It resides instantly for our use; and we use it every day, without thinking about its reality … until the blackout comes. Then we whine its loss and want it fixed instantly. "
Grabowski said. "Go on Kate. Even I have thoughts of creativity, insight sometimes. Maybe I can't do the math, but I can grasp the concepts. Not understand them or evaluate them."
"Please, we do not wish to patronize you.” Another Professor chimed in, “We have forgotten Einstein could explain his theory to a child, though the child could not understand, and do it without being condescending. That was Einstein's greatness. What has been so tactlessly stated is true. If we could show you the mathematical sets, the matrices, the dimensions, and the symmetry of the spins, the colors, and the charms; maybe it would be so much clearer to you, Steven. We”, he gestured to the room, ‘speak in the language of physics … mathematically, we understand the code, the symbols of the Physics and their interconnectivity and relationships. I cannot begin to decipher hieroglyphics, yet others can read them as easy as a train schedule, assembly code, is graphically understood by the geek disciples of computers; yet I do not have a clue. Basically, whether I use 'real numbers' or 'imaginary numbers', the math results are the same... "
"In some theories ..." Petrovich added as a cautionary aside.
"Yes, not everyone agrees. Those in support of the Copenhagen theory and Bell's Theorem always disagreed. Einstein verses Bohr. Classical Physics in dispute with Quantum Theory in other words. Wheeler and others, in a minority, always contended multiple universes existed; moving into reality only when we 'observe them'. In this case, what happened to Ord purports to confirm Parallel Universes exist; though not everyone agrees. We have not released in a paper, nor to the scientific community; that is the proof of the pudding, I’m afraid. Scientific scrutiny … can it be duplicated …? Its ambiguity does not solve the problem. It does not make everyone in the majority incorrect, either. No one, it seems, is right. Again the Universe keeps its secrets. It is just there."
Petrovich exclaimed."This virtual hologram we observed proves nothing; it looks manufactured, like a science Fiction episode. WE have to ANALYZE the data and we can’t because there is NO DATA to analyze! “
"Enough!" Grabowski said. "I don't care.” He rolled his wheelchair away from them. "You asked me to observe this charade, as you call it, I did. I gave you my truth, my reality, my demons. … and my ghosts. I just know in my heart ... I was THERE! ...it proves to me my friend, my Corporal, didn’t die." He ran his hand through his hair. "And I didn't cause his death. It wasn't my fault. None of it was my fault … None of it. Don't you understand? The hell with all of you, the theories of science, the meaning of life, the particle tunneling, or the movement of the Universe, means NOTHING to me!." He spoke to Kinnerman. "I want to leave. He addressed the scientists, “You’re tearing it apart, I lived it. You are telling me I am, and Ord is full of shit … fine … but to me personally, it means … in some Universe I am dead … or I am walking …” He gestured to his wheelchair. “He wagged his head, “That’s my reality, folks. I prefer to believe I am a complete human being somewhere in time, in space, or universe.”
Outside, Katherine and Steven walked slowly among the oak trees; Steven was out of his wheelchair, using his prosthesis, supported by canes. The sunny, warm afternoon made them perspire.
Some time passed before he spoke to her. "I wanted so many times to thank you for all of this. Conversely, I also thought you were so full of crap ...” He snorted. "And many ghosts ... who aren't alive anymore, needed my coming here." He watched gliding pigeons sliding into personal perches on the building they had exited minutes ago. "Now we're out there, Ord’s life, Snake’s life, all feels like an afternoon movie. Was that reality? Was it real? Did it happen? Jesus, I feel good!"
Her expression softened and she smiled tenderly at him. "I wanted to help out a professor, my uncle, who had been ostracized, and driven into the grave by contemporaries who did not understand his vision. I wanted to smash their complacency and arrogance."
"That's what you were striving for...revenge?"
"At first I did, of course. But after what we witnessed ... who can say? I believe my uncle was right."
He rubbed his aching, missing limb. "And what drives you now?"
"Now, I want to be at peace, like Snake is. I want the love she HAD, what both of them experienced. Now I realize that existence is what you live. Not what you read or hear about. The joy of grabbing the NOW, that’s how the Ovals said it ...?" She groped for the words, her brow knitted in thought. "Let the THEN and the WHEN collides with my NOW because it is good. How can I change that?" She briefly touched his whisker-stubbled cheek, then his shoulder, a little embarrassed. "Can you be with me NOW...?”
A moment passed. He struggled inside himself, and then smiled in tolerance. You’re just a little smug, you bastard, he thought. "Jesus thanks for the offer, Katherine … Kathy, but, I'm too old, older then my years, like they say. Or maybe I'm misreading your intentions ... how do the kid's use to say it? Totally. You don't have my mileage, or my pain, or memories."
His eyes narrowed. "Listen, Snake is an inspiration to you, virtual reality role model. But, he was a real human being to me. I lived with him, I cussed him ... I loved him, hated him. You could never experience the living with him that I go through day after day, every day of my life, I replay that death scene you saw … every day”, he hissed." He stroked her cheek. "Go on with your future ... “He groped for the words. "...let your Stela record, kid. Live your life, your NOW, your WHEN, your THEN. You don't need my excess baggage."
She kissed him slowly, tears welling in her eyes with the loss of her passion, her crusade, and her love. Katherine Kinnerman started to speak to rebut his reasoning, but the horrified expression on his face, his manifested fear caused her to brace herself. He threw her to the soft lawn behind a tree, masking them from the Hammond Engineering building.
A brilliant laser-like pulse silently put their immediate surrounding world into a blinding bluish, white cone of light. A timeline and space cone tunnel to connected branes. Their world came to an abrupt stop. They both trembled in fear, recognizing the effect, seeing the field Ord experienced; their memories screaming reality.
Inside the building, the snapping twist and spins of the field reached a critical stage. Leakage from the field instantaneously filled the room at the precise instant of ignition, the explosion, followed immediately by the implosion, then tearing detonation and undetonation with the Seech field activating: In that room of scientific thought; the theorists, the pragmatists, the generalists, the victims, the corrupted, and innocents alike abruptly met TLET: time-line event termination. They were observed and the wave collapsed..... The intense SEECH FIELD ACTIVATED...
Dark, scudding clouds accented the night while the pair of horsemen circled the smoke and heat from the scene in front of them ...
They were outriders, a reconnaissance patrol, from the Mongolian Army which was destined to write world history as the Golden Horde. The pair was dressed as all Mongols, in kulets, the brown tunics identifying them as light cavalry. They wore gray trousers lined with fur as were their quilted tunics because it was winter. Laced up, thick leather boots completed their basic clothing. A mandatory silk shirt was underneath their uniform, an ingenious remedy against an arrow strike. Twisting as it bore into their bodies; an arrow normally had to be pushed with excruciating pain out through the other side of the victim’s body. Silk was unable to be penetrated by an arrow, rather it twisted with the arrow wrapping around it. A Mongol surgeon simply pulled the edges of the silk shirt rerouting the arrow out the same hole with the same twist. The silk was ingenious armor protection. One of the riders wore a dog skin cap; the other man's was made of goat skin: neither were officers. Each carried a leather covered wicker shield and two bows; one long and another short. A full quiver of fifty to seventy arrows hung on their sides with a dagger strapped to their opposite forearm. The saddle held a lasso, a small sword, two javelins, and hide saddlebags with their personal provisions. They were the eyes of their Irbin, which scouted for their Toomen, a division size force.
... What they witnessed had stopped them in the cold, biting wind. Old ghosts and fears drifted into their minds.
They were puzzled and frightened, but also curious, about the event; trying to assess what had happened so they could report to their Khan. Next to the tree where he had been signaling the day's information with a burning torch back to their unit, their fellow rider, Nogaikan, had been blasted by a fireball of screeching lightning twisting like a whirlpool in the river. Portends they saw of the gods were ominous. Lightning in winter; a spinning current in the air? In a instant their friend had disappeared in a blue-white-crackling-devil-world; they feared Nogaikan had been swallowed into the earth.
When their spotty vision cleared after minutes, they felt relief for they saw the body. Death was something they could understand as were corpses. Disappearances made them uneasy. They rode slowly and silently up to it; dismounting and illuminating it with a torch.
The body was charred and smoldering, wisps of smoke traveling to the gods. The creature on the ground, twisted in agony, was unrecognizable as their friend, Nogaikan. The entire episode was outside their experience. Preparing a report to their commander was not taken lightly by a Mongol and each man soaked up the scene, silently observing, in their professional way, the entire episode, missing nothing. Outriders had been executed for incorrect or exaggerated claims. Neither of them talked to the other, by training, so as not to pollute the impressions of the other.
If they observed the alien patch of clear plastic badge, burned on the edges, on the corpse’s chest, they would not have known what they were looking at, nor care. Even the small blue dots and lines on the right cheek, visible through the burnt flesh never drew their attention ... they ignored them.
They had stared at the smoking body of Petrovich for only a moment longer, before remounting their short, stocky horses, and galloped furiously back to their commander to report on the day’s events. They would record their observations of the velocities and positions of moments ... and instants in time ... which they had observed that day. The Time-line, Arrow of Reality . . . was observed.
Static snapping within the field abruptly gave them an altruistic moment, each in their private way, for unanimous realization of what they had witnessed. Awe overcomes then precipitates theories.
"As scientists we are compelled, no, we, MUST postulate Quantum Mechanics has nothing to do with this." Petrovich said. "This presents as reality; this is a charade, as was the Tikalbalahm Site, the Yucatan Man, and especially this amulet or Stel, if you believe this childishness."
"Professor, calm down, relax! You've just saw Quantum energy field theory. Use your insight."
"I am. Is this Quantum Electrodynamics? Or is it Quantum Chromodynamics? Or is it ... what is it? ” he shrugged,” can YOU define it? Hell."
A voice interjected with an opinion, “Something else entirely?" Worried, her words were careful, and hushed. “Quantum Fluctuations as energy, tunneling through time and space has been theorized for years…”
Crackling and snapping, the field was maintaining three dimensions, then showing two dimensions, then back to three. The field was acting like a person blinking his eyes to get different perspectives to the same reality. A glowing text was demonstrating in the field, written in that cryptic Arna/Kril language, floating and stable, the first line changing constantly as it moved down off the field, they watched in curiosity.
"Good question. Look at that immense field. What is it? Hypothetically, we have just observed a phenomenon we have all studied and dismissed. A parallel universe was one of many, according to these Ovals. The electron doesn't revolve around the nucleus like the earth around the sun, we know. We discarded that theory years ago. No one believes that anymore, quantum states and energy levels are reality." Kinnerman said.
"For decades, since Quantum Theory was first postulated in 1900, the electron had been been known to be a wave, after 1900 and 1905, a particle, a discrete quanta, was visualized; a gray-white fog of quantum energy states surrounding the proton. Moving in and out of parallel dimensions, tunneling energy states ...” Kinnerman then conceded ... “or wherever."
Petrovich snapped his head towards Steven Grabowski. "Quantum jumps, Mr. Grabowski. Virtual particles when observed, waves when unobserved, but only as probabilities. This is the Wave-Particle duality."
Grabowski rubbed his forehead and grimaced. "That clears it up for me; you guys are speaking in tongues, way over my head." He blew out a burst of air.
"Let me try to clarify," Katherine Kinnerman said. "In Quantum Mechanics the mathematics does not rely on specific 1 + 1 = 2 answers. The duality problem interferes with your answers. You cannot measure the position AND the momentum of a quanta. Which when observed and measured is a particle, like a photon of light; but when not observed is a wave of light, visualized as a wave hitting a seashore. The quanta or energy states can only be stated as probabilities, not realities, in a moment in time because their position is not known in that moment and changes in less than a nanosecond. That’s a minus nine zeros and a one in time, assuming time exists at that level."
"Shit... the little man who wasn't there." Grabowski snarled and giggled.
Professor Petrovich interrupted, "This is elementary and demeaning. By trying to put mathematics into words you are inaccurately describing the universe. Comprehension can only come with the mathematical sets, and the matrix. Time, Space, and the dimensions beyond cannot be imagined graphically. I cannot describe what I mean. Language is imprecise."
"Elementary? That implies understanding.” Another professor added. “To paraphrase Neils Bohr, who helped us to think of the theory of Quantum Mechanics; if you can understand it you are wrong. No one understands it, Mr. Grabowski, and many of our colleagues disagree vociferously what we are postulating in this conversation."
Another chimed in, "Where is Schrodinger’s cat when you need it.” They all chuckled.
"Precisely…Where is it?” Petrovich answered, then continued, “However, Ms Kinnerman, YOU are the one trying to understand a micro world in macro terms. The GUT theory, the Grand Unified Theory is part of what we are discussing, Mr. Grabowski, the Holy Grail of physics. She means the probabilities, you see ... not reality."
"Universe ... Probabilities ... they are the same. We cannot explain why electricity is in a wire. It resides instantly for our use; and we use it every day, without thinking about its reality … until the blackout comes. Then we whine its loss and want it fixed instantly. "
Grabowski said. "Go on Kate. Even I have thoughts of creativity, insight sometimes. Maybe I can't do the math, but I can grasp the concepts. Not understand them or evaluate them."
"Please, we do not wish to patronize you.” Another Professor chimed in, “We have forgotten Einstein could explain his theory to a child, though the child could not understand, and do it without being condescending. That was Einstein's greatness. What has been so tactlessly stated is true. If we could show you the mathematical sets, the matrices, the dimensions, and the symmetry of the spins, the colors, and the charms; maybe it would be so much clearer to you, Steven. We”, he gestured to the room, ‘speak in the language of physics … mathematically, we understand the code, the symbols of the Physics and their interconnectivity and relationships. I cannot begin to decipher hieroglyphics, yet others can read them as easy as a train schedule, assembly code, is graphically understood by the geek disciples of computers; yet I do not have a clue. Basically, whether I use 'real numbers' or 'imaginary numbers', the math results are the same... "
"In some theories ..." Petrovich added as a cautionary aside.
"Yes, not everyone agrees. Those in support of the Copenhagen theory and Bell's Theorem always disagreed. Einstein verses Bohr. Classical Physics in dispute with Quantum Theory in other words. Wheeler and others, in a minority, always contended multiple universes existed; moving into reality only when we 'observe them'. In this case, what happened to Ord purports to confirm Parallel Universes exist; though not everyone agrees. We have not released in a paper, nor to the scientific community; that is the proof of the pudding, I’m afraid. Scientific scrutiny … can it be duplicated …? Its ambiguity does not solve the problem. It does not make everyone in the majority incorrect, either. No one, it seems, is right. Again the Universe keeps its secrets. It is just there."
Petrovich exclaimed."This virtual hologram we observed proves nothing; it looks manufactured, like a science Fiction episode. WE have to ANALYZE the data and we can’t because there is NO DATA to analyze! “
"Enough!" Grabowski said. "I don't care.” He rolled his wheelchair away from them. "You asked me to observe this charade, as you call it, I did. I gave you my truth, my reality, my demons. … and my ghosts. I just know in my heart ... I was THERE! ...it proves to me my friend, my Corporal, didn’t die." He ran his hand through his hair. "And I didn't cause his death. It wasn't my fault. None of it was my fault … None of it. Don't you understand? The hell with all of you, the theories of science, the meaning of life, the particle tunneling, or the movement of the Universe, means NOTHING to me!." He spoke to Kinnerman. "I want to leave. He addressed the scientists, “You’re tearing it apart, I lived it. You are telling me I am, and Ord is full of shit … fine … but to me personally, it means … in some Universe I am dead … or I am walking …” He gestured to his wheelchair. “He wagged his head, “That’s my reality, folks. I prefer to believe I am a complete human being somewhere in time, in space, or universe.”
Outside, Katherine and Steven walked slowly among the oak trees; Steven was out of his wheelchair, using his prosthesis, supported by canes. The sunny, warm afternoon made them perspire.
Some time passed before he spoke to her. "I wanted so many times to thank you for all of this. Conversely, I also thought you were so full of crap ...” He snorted. "And many ghosts ... who aren't alive anymore, needed my coming here." He watched gliding pigeons sliding into personal perches on the building they had exited minutes ago. "Now we're out there, Ord’s life, Snake’s life, all feels like an afternoon movie. Was that reality? Was it real? Did it happen? Jesus, I feel good!"
Her expression softened and she smiled tenderly at him. "I wanted to help out a professor, my uncle, who had been ostracized, and driven into the grave by contemporaries who did not understand his vision. I wanted to smash their complacency and arrogance."
"That's what you were striving for...revenge?"
"At first I did, of course. But after what we witnessed ... who can say? I believe my uncle was right."
He rubbed his aching, missing limb. "And what drives you now?"
"Now, I want to be at peace, like Snake is. I want the love she HAD, what both of them experienced. Now I realize that existence is what you live. Not what you read or hear about. The joy of grabbing the NOW, that’s how the Ovals said it ...?" She groped for the words, her brow knitted in thought. "Let the THEN and the WHEN collides with my NOW because it is good. How can I change that?" She briefly touched his whisker-stubbled cheek, then his shoulder, a little embarrassed. "Can you be with me NOW...?”
A moment passed. He struggled inside himself, and then smiled in tolerance. You’re just a little smug, you bastard, he thought. "Jesus thanks for the offer, Katherine … Kathy, but, I'm too old, older then my years, like they say. Or maybe I'm misreading your intentions ... how do the kid's use to say it? Totally. You don't have my mileage, or my pain, or memories."
His eyes narrowed. "Listen, Snake is an inspiration to you, virtual reality role model. But, he was a real human being to me. I lived with him, I cussed him ... I loved him, hated him. You could never experience the living with him that I go through day after day, every day of my life, I replay that death scene you saw … every day”, he hissed." He stroked her cheek. "Go on with your future ... “He groped for the words. "...let your Stela record, kid. Live your life, your NOW, your WHEN, your THEN. You don't need my excess baggage."
She kissed him slowly, tears welling in her eyes with the loss of her passion, her crusade, and her love. Katherine Kinnerman started to speak to rebut his reasoning, but the horrified expression on his face, his manifested fear caused her to brace herself. He threw her to the soft lawn behind a tree, masking them from the Hammond Engineering building.
A brilliant laser-like pulse silently put their immediate surrounding world into a blinding bluish, white cone of light. A timeline and space cone tunnel to connected branes. Their world came to an abrupt stop. They both trembled in fear, recognizing the effect, seeing the field Ord experienced; their memories screaming reality.
Inside the building, the snapping twist and spins of the field reached a critical stage. Leakage from the field instantaneously filled the room at the precise instant of ignition, the explosion, followed immediately by the implosion, then tearing detonation and undetonation with the Seech field activating: In that room of scientific thought; the theorists, the pragmatists, the generalists, the victims, the corrupted, and innocents alike abruptly met TLET: time-line event termination. They were observed and the wave collapsed..... The intense SEECH FIELD ACTIVATED...
Dark, scudding clouds accented the night while the pair of horsemen circled the smoke and heat from the scene in front of them ...
They were outriders, a reconnaissance patrol, from the Mongolian Army which was destined to write world history as the Golden Horde. The pair was dressed as all Mongols, in kulets, the brown tunics identifying them as light cavalry. They wore gray trousers lined with fur as were their quilted tunics because it was winter. Laced up, thick leather boots completed their basic clothing. A mandatory silk shirt was underneath their uniform, an ingenious remedy against an arrow strike. Twisting as it bore into their bodies; an arrow normally had to be pushed with excruciating pain out through the other side of the victim’s body. Silk was unable to be penetrated by an arrow, rather it twisted with the arrow wrapping around it. A Mongol surgeon simply pulled the edges of the silk shirt rerouting the arrow out the same hole with the same twist. The silk was ingenious armor protection. One of the riders wore a dog skin cap; the other man's was made of goat skin: neither were officers. Each carried a leather covered wicker shield and two bows; one long and another short. A full quiver of fifty to seventy arrows hung on their sides with a dagger strapped to their opposite forearm. The saddle held a lasso, a small sword, two javelins, and hide saddlebags with their personal provisions. They were the eyes of their Irbin, which scouted for their Toomen, a division size force.
... What they witnessed had stopped them in the cold, biting wind. Old ghosts and fears drifted into their minds.
They were puzzled and frightened, but also curious, about the event; trying to assess what had happened so they could report to their Khan. Next to the tree where he had been signaling the day's information with a burning torch back to their unit, their fellow rider, Nogaikan, had been blasted by a fireball of screeching lightning twisting like a whirlpool in the river. Portends they saw of the gods were ominous. Lightning in winter; a spinning current in the air? In a instant their friend had disappeared in a blue-white-crackling-devil-world; they feared Nogaikan had been swallowed into the earth.
When their spotty vision cleared after minutes, they felt relief for they saw the body. Death was something they could understand as were corpses. Disappearances made them uneasy. They rode slowly and silently up to it; dismounting and illuminating it with a torch.
The body was charred and smoldering, wisps of smoke traveling to the gods. The creature on the ground, twisted in agony, was unrecognizable as their friend, Nogaikan. The entire episode was outside their experience. Preparing a report to their commander was not taken lightly by a Mongol and each man soaked up the scene, silently observing, in their professional way, the entire episode, missing nothing. Outriders had been executed for incorrect or exaggerated claims. Neither of them talked to the other, by training, so as not to pollute the impressions of the other.
If they observed the alien patch of clear plastic badge, burned on the edges, on the corpse’s chest, they would not have known what they were looking at, nor care. Even the small blue dots and lines on the right cheek, visible through the burnt flesh never drew their attention ... they ignored them.
They had stared at the smoking body of Petrovich for only a moment longer, before remounting their short, stocky horses, and galloped furiously back to their commander to report on the day’s events. They would record their observations of the velocities and positions of moments ... and instants in time ... which they had observed that day. The Time-line, Arrow of Reality . . . was observed.
Chap 1-Preliminary
3-4-13 A banged up black Toob with the Bump Team inside spins into place
with a litany of strident squeals, crashes, and hisses. Launching by electrical
mass driver into orbit near the Burseeosil. Their time: Then, Now, and When;
within intersecting waves of the continuum. Only a Kril, an infantryman,
could come up with the word Bump. An anonymous creature from out of Earth's
past invented it. The word is simple, blunt, and precise. A Bump begins like a
sliver of ice molecules flaking off under a snowshelf. A minor occurance with
macro consequences. Once started, a tiny gram of matter unleashed tortured tons
of rumbling, freefalling ice and snow into a murderous gravity well of
destruction. That is a bump.
All the planning and plotting was over; it was now up to the Kril to capture the planet. Taken, in any universe, any continent, any country, any town, any hill, or in any dirt: by low caste beings, snarling, and vicious, beyond caring or hope. In this time, this continuum, the Kril carrying their weapons would be the chosen many dying for the elite few. In such ways are wars fought in any universe.
Zabin Kril training: honing skills, boring and rugged, physically agonizing work, the Kril troops spent bots sweating, itching, scratching, and cursing the Kril formula of war-making. Simple doctrine; rigid, unyielding, and lethal training readying them for the inevitable...
Pressing against him, the other Zabin Kril, not all human, milled in a clot. The clump of bodies were gently moving CheChun into his metal Toob towards his assigned web made of AK silk. Silk manufactured to be as strong as a diamond, elastic as rubber. The humans called it a web, translucent and textured like a spider's trap, it held the Kril in a standing position for the 'bump'.
A hand grabbed his web belt tugging it downwards, testing its tightness. In the sweating darkness TsoyKab's mocking voice, his singsong Mongol language buzzing beneath the translation in CheChun's mind from his stel, "Be aware. Do not fear. Death stills the fear, for TOTL, Termination of Time Line, is painless, little bird."
He was silent, unable to speak through his dry, caked throat. He wished KrutChan would stop watching him and he struggled to still his involuntary shaking. He rolled his lips together tightly, tasting the salt from his upper lip, pulling his pack tighter, as if the pain of the straps would give him another thing to think about.
The thousands of kilometers they would drop, secured only by the silk Ak thread attached to the top of their Toob, stronger than steel, an umbilical cord ready to snap them to a controlled survivable crash. At least his position was in the middle of the Toob, not the outer fringes of the death webs. Feeling exactly like the proverbial fly; he waited in silence for IT to happen.
All the hype of their briefings ran through his jumbled thoughts. "Confederation's finest troops: Zabin Kril. The leaders of the liberation. The first one's to step onto Planet Kan Balaam"
Boy, were they lucky.
CheChun's body pulsed as if he were tightening, loosening, then flexing his muscles in isometric exercise. He knew the pulsating was an effect from the Burseeosil mass field oscillators firing silently at planet targets from their strategic platform quadrant.
Far above Planet Kan Balaam.
Innocent sounding name. Innocent, bored expressions on the faces surrounding him. On the humans, anyway. Hard for him to tell on the others. Dagots: eelskinned salamander-like amphibians with their electric lights and sonar sounds, Zar: grunting reptile-like beings, and Cunack: fishlike with beetle hardened backs were almost impossible to read because of his inexperience. Once he gained many more Bumps he would be more subtle interpreting his brother Krils. Easy going attitudes from the packed beings contrasted with the hard angles on their faces. The tense, palpable, desperation strained them, putting age where youth tried to linger. KrutChan once had told him his eighteen year old body would incubate a forty year old mind after his first taste of combat. The Bump. A start.
Silently moving around him, their bodies were hollows and humps, equipment squeaking, grunts, murmuring, all of them withdrawn into themselves. Odors pervasive, ozone-like, sweat, sickening sweet perfume (one of the Zars probably farted), strange, yet familiar: hair oil?
CheChun pushed his gray pewter colored stel away with his fingers reaching inside his utilities, into his pocket for a hard sour ball. In the past, he used the candy to kill his thirst when he was hiking. Exercise was not in his mind at the moment. His priority was survival. Pushing the cold stel under his tee shirt made his nipples hard.
His trembling voice mocked KrutChan. "I think I lost my ticket for this Bump." He added with a sneer. "What are you sweating for? Nervous?"
KrutChan's flat, hard stare fixed him. "Just about my virginity, hero. Too many tough guys around."
Nervous laughter, muffled and sneering around him, unforgiving and sad. "Yeah, me too." He said lamely. Battle. He had to tighten up and grit his teeth. Every word he spoke came from the hollow of a drum, squeaking like an adolescent. He wanted to snarl like John Wayne did in that old movie. 'Sands of Iwo Jima', when a new guy asked Wayne. 'Are ya scared, sarge?' And Wayne glanced at the kid in pity and said with tired effort. 'Son, I'm always scared.'
CheChun wanted to be that old veteran; be like KrutChan and TsoyKab. They were different eras, but the same. He wanted to spit, but couldn't work any into his mouth, even with the sourball.
Reaching up to attach his guy line inside his web, he punched a face.
A coarse paw shoved him in exasperation. A moment passed before his stel translated the curse hissed at him by a Zar. "You fuckin' idiot!" Instantly, his exobiological semantics came into his mind, aided by his stel. It coached him now with Zaranian epithets he could yell back at the reptile. One came to mind he remembered from boot camp: air-breathing-thin-hide-two-walker. It was as crude as what he had been called, a real curse in the Zar dialect; befitting a Zabin Kril retort to a challenge. But, he kept his mouth shut. After all, it was my fault.
Trying to keep his fear and hyperactive emotions from scrambling his brains he attempted to hum, then whistle a tune he had running through his mind. About being brave and not caring, and living for the moment. He yawned, feeling it showed his disdain for this moment.
Slowly his gaze sorted out the details in the Toob as reality started to sink into his mind. All the different dialects and the colors of the different uniforms mottled and drained together into the shining webs. No matter what each Kril wore, be it different from CheChun's, the common thread was unmistakable. The purpose was lethal, no parade grounds, or pretty females, or glory in this Toob. That truth shouted at him. Knowing that fact created the pain over his heart and twisted off the bile rising from his stomach. Tragically, his mind shouted. 'God, please don't let me be sick.' Then he was ... spewing vomit like a geyser. And trying to apologize between powerful thrusts of his stomach, trying to maintain his dignity and failing. He felt weak, fighting to control his bowels.
The Zars, Dagots, and Cunacks ignored his distress not interpreting what was happening. Only the human Kril aboard and the Arnamals close to him reacted in disgusted empathy. Sweet odor filled the compartment again; signifying a Zar reaction to the bump similar to CheChun's nausea. It helped him somewhat to know they were scared shitless too.
Then came the screeching of painful hydraulic movement and straining fields of magnetic resonance pushing against other Toobs in the system as the bump moved with persistance towards initiation.
The abrupt gravity well of the planet ingested them in a sickening freefall. The Dagots screeched. CheChun puked again.
They Bumped.
No windows or semblance of any to anticipate their mortality as the outside bulkheads hummed and glowed a warm orange denoting the friction build up outside the shell of their vehicle. Abruptly the walls became translucent and the entire Bump force around them became visible. Through the strands of spider matrix the attacking force fell as the shooting stars they were in fact; he could see at the bottom and top of the bulwarks the seams of their conveyance and forced his mind to realize the sides were not really gone. The Ovals merely let them see what was happening. Fear of the present known would theoretically keep them calmer than not seeing anything at all. Until he saw the Toobs around them randomly exploding, disintegrating, and ripping apart in the maelstrom of gravity, friction, and force fields from the planet.
Clenching his teeth, fighting nausea, CheChun bounced against the restraining AK silk of the Toob. He watched the panic of the Kril Dagots, humans, Zar, and Cunack who were along the periphery of the craft. They were experiencing the illusion they were moments from falling out of the invasion ship. An unobstructed view of the mass carnage of the bump and on the planet did not help those beings to adjust to the feeling it generated.
Retaliation fire from the Planet Balaam mass drivers electrically firing pellets of high velocity enclosing unnocpor particles that obliterated any opposing matter it contacted with silent massive annihilation. That included sentient beings; they would never know at the instant of death what had hit them. The demonic Unnocpor particles releasing just before impact have the most massive and destructive effect. The only defense is to fly directly into them to minimize the scattering of the particles, like running in the rain.
The raw sewage smells assaulting their sensory organs sweet, sickening, and pungent sweat smells from creatures' alien to each other, yet similar. Krils unused to flying in closed battle vehicles were in unmitigated fascinated horror. Roman soldier's and 13th to 18th century peasants tried to adjust to acclimatize to the present situation. Many of them in the Toobs understanding death, but not this way, not falling out of the sky.
As if by sinister magic, a hole ripped in the bulkhead of the Toob revealing bright sky to his left. Instantaneous sounds of screeching torn metal assaulted his ears, expelling air sucking at his clothing and pulling his breath from his lungs. His teeth felt loose in his mouth and his lips leaning towards the breech. A hell of a centrifugal effect, he yelled in his mind. His entire body strained against the AK webbing, its vicious constraints rubbing him raw trying to tear him into shreds and force him through the threads and out the hole to a freefalling death.
[The TOOB loses aerodynamics, spins into the water skipping like a stone, flies off hits trees, and slams into the scabby gravel. They pull the ones out that can't leave. Rest are dead; only one is pinned in the wreckage. So much for a good landing. Horrible smell! "What is that smell? The dude decaying already? No, hes going to be ok. Jesus Christ, that's ok? What the fuck does he smell like dead?]
All the planning and plotting was over; it was now up to the Kril to capture the planet. Taken, in any universe, any continent, any country, any town, any hill, or in any dirt: by low caste beings, snarling, and vicious, beyond caring or hope. In this time, this continuum, the Kril carrying their weapons would be the chosen many dying for the elite few. In such ways are wars fought in any universe.
Zabin Kril training: honing skills, boring and rugged, physically agonizing work, the Kril troops spent bots sweating, itching, scratching, and cursing the Kril formula of war-making. Simple doctrine; rigid, unyielding, and lethal training readying them for the inevitable...
Pressing against him, the other Zabin Kril, not all human, milled in a clot. The clump of bodies were gently moving CheChun into his metal Toob towards his assigned web made of AK silk. Silk manufactured to be as strong as a diamond, elastic as rubber. The humans called it a web, translucent and textured like a spider's trap, it held the Kril in a standing position for the 'bump'.
A hand grabbed his web belt tugging it downwards, testing its tightness. In the sweating darkness TsoyKab's mocking voice, his singsong Mongol language buzzing beneath the translation in CheChun's mind from his stel, "Be aware. Do not fear. Death stills the fear, for TOTL, Termination of Time Line, is painless, little bird."
He was silent, unable to speak through his dry, caked throat. He wished KrutChan would stop watching him and he struggled to still his involuntary shaking. He rolled his lips together tightly, tasting the salt from his upper lip, pulling his pack tighter, as if the pain of the straps would give him another thing to think about.
The thousands of kilometers they would drop, secured only by the silk Ak thread attached to the top of their Toob, stronger than steel, an umbilical cord ready to snap them to a controlled survivable crash. At least his position was in the middle of the Toob, not the outer fringes of the death webs. Feeling exactly like the proverbial fly; he waited in silence for IT to happen.
All the hype of their briefings ran through his jumbled thoughts. "Confederation's finest troops: Zabin Kril. The leaders of the liberation. The first one's to step onto Planet Kan Balaam"
Boy, were they lucky.
CheChun's body pulsed as if he were tightening, loosening, then flexing his muscles in isometric exercise. He knew the pulsating was an effect from the Burseeosil mass field oscillators firing silently at planet targets from their strategic platform quadrant.
Far above Planet Kan Balaam.
Innocent sounding name. Innocent, bored expressions on the faces surrounding him. On the humans, anyway. Hard for him to tell on the others. Dagots: eelskinned salamander-like amphibians with their electric lights and sonar sounds, Zar: grunting reptile-like beings, and Cunack: fishlike with beetle hardened backs were almost impossible to read because of his inexperience. Once he gained many more Bumps he would be more subtle interpreting his brother Krils. Easy going attitudes from the packed beings contrasted with the hard angles on their faces. The tense, palpable, desperation strained them, putting age where youth tried to linger. KrutChan once had told him his eighteen year old body would incubate a forty year old mind after his first taste of combat. The Bump. A start.
Silently moving around him, their bodies were hollows and humps, equipment squeaking, grunts, murmuring, all of them withdrawn into themselves. Odors pervasive, ozone-like, sweat, sickening sweet perfume (one of the Zars probably farted), strange, yet familiar: hair oil?
CheChun pushed his gray pewter colored stel away with his fingers reaching inside his utilities, into his pocket for a hard sour ball. In the past, he used the candy to kill his thirst when he was hiking. Exercise was not in his mind at the moment. His priority was survival. Pushing the cold stel under his tee shirt made his nipples hard.
His trembling voice mocked KrutChan. "I think I lost my ticket for this Bump." He added with a sneer. "What are you sweating for? Nervous?"
KrutChan's flat, hard stare fixed him. "Just about my virginity, hero. Too many tough guys around."
Nervous laughter, muffled and sneering around him, unforgiving and sad. "Yeah, me too." He said lamely. Battle. He had to tighten up and grit his teeth. Every word he spoke came from the hollow of a drum, squeaking like an adolescent. He wanted to snarl like John Wayne did in that old movie. 'Sands of Iwo Jima', when a new guy asked Wayne. 'Are ya scared, sarge?' And Wayne glanced at the kid in pity and said with tired effort. 'Son, I'm always scared.'
CheChun wanted to be that old veteran; be like KrutChan and TsoyKab. They were different eras, but the same. He wanted to spit, but couldn't work any into his mouth, even with the sourball.
Reaching up to attach his guy line inside his web, he punched a face.
A coarse paw shoved him in exasperation. A moment passed before his stel translated the curse hissed at him by a Zar. "You fuckin' idiot!" Instantly, his exobiological semantics came into his mind, aided by his stel. It coached him now with Zaranian epithets he could yell back at the reptile. One came to mind he remembered from boot camp: air-breathing-thin-hide-two-walker. It was as crude as what he had been called, a real curse in the Zar dialect; befitting a Zabin Kril retort to a challenge. But, he kept his mouth shut. After all, it was my fault.
Trying to keep his fear and hyperactive emotions from scrambling his brains he attempted to hum, then whistle a tune he had running through his mind. About being brave and not caring, and living for the moment. He yawned, feeling it showed his disdain for this moment.
Slowly his gaze sorted out the details in the Toob as reality started to sink into his mind. All the different dialects and the colors of the different uniforms mottled and drained together into the shining webs. No matter what each Kril wore, be it different from CheChun's, the common thread was unmistakable. The purpose was lethal, no parade grounds, or pretty females, or glory in this Toob. That truth shouted at him. Knowing that fact created the pain over his heart and twisted off the bile rising from his stomach. Tragically, his mind shouted. 'God, please don't let me be sick.' Then he was ... spewing vomit like a geyser. And trying to apologize between powerful thrusts of his stomach, trying to maintain his dignity and failing. He felt weak, fighting to control his bowels.
The Zars, Dagots, and Cunacks ignored his distress not interpreting what was happening. Only the human Kril aboard and the Arnamals close to him reacted in disgusted empathy. Sweet odor filled the compartment again; signifying a Zar reaction to the bump similar to CheChun's nausea. It helped him somewhat to know they were scared shitless too.
Then came the screeching of painful hydraulic movement and straining fields of magnetic resonance pushing against other Toobs in the system as the bump moved with persistance towards initiation.
The abrupt gravity well of the planet ingested them in a sickening freefall. The Dagots screeched. CheChun puked again.
They Bumped.
No windows or semblance of any to anticipate their mortality as the outside bulkheads hummed and glowed a warm orange denoting the friction build up outside the shell of their vehicle. Abruptly the walls became translucent and the entire Bump force around them became visible. Through the strands of spider matrix the attacking force fell as the shooting stars they were in fact; he could see at the bottom and top of the bulwarks the seams of their conveyance and forced his mind to realize the sides were not really gone. The Ovals merely let them see what was happening. Fear of the present known would theoretically keep them calmer than not seeing anything at all. Until he saw the Toobs around them randomly exploding, disintegrating, and ripping apart in the maelstrom of gravity, friction, and force fields from the planet.
Clenching his teeth, fighting nausea, CheChun bounced against the restraining AK silk of the Toob. He watched the panic of the Kril Dagots, humans, Zar, and Cunack who were along the periphery of the craft. They were experiencing the illusion they were moments from falling out of the invasion ship. An unobstructed view of the mass carnage of the bump and on the planet did not help those beings to adjust to the feeling it generated.
Retaliation fire from the Planet Balaam mass drivers electrically firing pellets of high velocity enclosing unnocpor particles that obliterated any opposing matter it contacted with silent massive annihilation. That included sentient beings; they would never know at the instant of death what had hit them. The demonic Unnocpor particles releasing just before impact have the most massive and destructive effect. The only defense is to fly directly into them to minimize the scattering of the particles, like running in the rain.
The raw sewage smells assaulting their sensory organs sweet, sickening, and pungent sweat smells from creatures' alien to each other, yet similar. Krils unused to flying in closed battle vehicles were in unmitigated fascinated horror. Roman soldier's and 13th to 18th century peasants tried to adjust to acclimatize to the present situation. Many of them in the Toobs understanding death, but not this way, not falling out of the sky.
As if by sinister magic, a hole ripped in the bulkhead of the Toob revealing bright sky to his left. Instantaneous sounds of screeching torn metal assaulted his ears, expelling air sucking at his clothing and pulling his breath from his lungs. His teeth felt loose in his mouth and his lips leaning towards the breech. A hell of a centrifugal effect, he yelled in his mind. His entire body strained against the AK webbing, its vicious constraints rubbing him raw trying to tear him into shreds and force him through the threads and out the hole to a freefalling death.
[The TOOB loses aerodynamics, spins into the water skipping like a stone, flies off hits trees, and slams into the scabby gravel. They pull the ones out that can't leave. Rest are dead; only one is pinned in the wreckage. So much for a good landing. Horrible smell! "What is that smell? The dude decaying already? No, hes going to be ok. Jesus Christ, that's ok? What the fuck does he smell like dead?]
Personally Speaking
3-3-10 My spouse has been ill...no I don't want your money...I been
sitting in the hospital and getting character's habits written down...you never
know...
my Spouse is handling the heart trouble well..she has a strong will and inner
toughness...empathy she accepts...sympathy she abhors...like an Oval...gonna
give some back ground on Ovals in this Blog...
History Notes
2-23-10 Arna is a Universe
parallel to Earth. It is unique from Earth's Universe; it is based on faster
than light phenomenon. As an event, on Arna, goes from disorder to order, it
would look to an observer on Earth as if a diver comes out of the water and
ends up on the diving board, moving backwards.
Of course, in the Arna universe this does not happen, it is observed correctly. Conversely, the same event on Arna, observed from the Earth, would be reversed. This creates an anomaly for the Seeched Krils. They have to be specially processed, assuming they survive the Seech Tunneling, when they arrive, because their metabolism is reversed. Using the model for Arna that exiting a Seech field is the birth of a Kril; the Earth Kril are born old and die young. All Kril, there are a few mutants, created by the Seech field, age by growing younger. Bumps to other star systems, because they employ similar Seech tunneling, speed up the aging or youngering of the Kril involved in the mission. The tunneling also creates a time dilation effect for the observers in the Arna Universe. To the Kril involved, years, or rather tuns, feel like normal time passing, while the Oval waiting for his return experiences from minutes, or bots, to days between the time he leaves and when the Kril returns. Her essence is with him in his room (look up name of the room) attached to the Burseeosil while she stays back in the Arna Universe.
The first Oval came from a disastrous war, led by males, which very nearly destroyed their civilization. The Ovals took control of the Society through the invention of the Cycle stick/wand, the tunneling computer-like stel, and the Osil drive. Through manipulation, the Confederation alliance, dealing with the egg producing beings in their universe, made the non-nurturing beings obsolete.
The first Dinarchy splintered from the non-nurturing beings to oppose the Ovals and their Confederation. This society, based on chaos and disorder, a situation felt to be the natural process in both universes. The Dinarchy, was small and intimidated until, through stealth, traitorous Ovals, and thievery built an armed force superior to the Oval Confederacy. In a bold strike, they obliterated an essential Burseeosil station in the star system, code named Jaguar, destroying eight Burseeosil and capturing the Osil tunnel. They moved quickly, eliminating resistance in strategic galaxies, threatening the Oval Confederacy with eventual extinction.
The Ovals, through an errant experiment, trying to obtain a secret way to pick up Dinarchy codes to break them, inadvertently opened a tunneling channel to Earth. The botched plan also gave them an armed force to spearhead the fight against the Dinarchy. They were able to observe brief snippets of Earth history, but at a tremendous cost to the experimental site. One of the things they observed was a hydrogen bomb explosion, which tunneled, seeched, into Arna from Earth, destroying an island on Arna in Hawaii's location. Unleashed, the radiation transmogrified, from Earth universe to Arna universe, into unstable matter-antimatter photon-antiproton reactions. The tunnel grabbed matter from Earth then shot back Arna matter back into the tunnel/rip in the continuum.
One of the many consequences created a plague on the planet Arna, which sterilized the majority of the Arna non-nurturers. At the same time individuals were seeched through the field and were the first breeders cycled by the Ovals. The initial Kril society was organized from the first Roman seeched. The process of seeching is dangerous and energy prohibitive. It can only be done for five days, every 52 years, 52 tun.
Of course, in the Arna universe this does not happen, it is observed correctly. Conversely, the same event on Arna, observed from the Earth, would be reversed. This creates an anomaly for the Seeched Krils. They have to be specially processed, assuming they survive the Seech Tunneling, when they arrive, because their metabolism is reversed. Using the model for Arna that exiting a Seech field is the birth of a Kril; the Earth Kril are born old and die young. All Kril, there are a few mutants, created by the Seech field, age by growing younger. Bumps to other star systems, because they employ similar Seech tunneling, speed up the aging or youngering of the Kril involved in the mission. The tunneling also creates a time dilation effect for the observers in the Arna Universe. To the Kril involved, years, or rather tuns, feel like normal time passing, while the Oval waiting for his return experiences from minutes, or bots, to days between the time he leaves and when the Kril returns. Her essence is with him in his room (look up name of the room) attached to the Burseeosil while she stays back in the Arna Universe.
The first Oval came from a disastrous war, led by males, which very nearly destroyed their civilization. The Ovals took control of the Society through the invention of the Cycle stick/wand, the tunneling computer-like stel, and the Osil drive. Through manipulation, the Confederation alliance, dealing with the egg producing beings in their universe, made the non-nurturing beings obsolete.
The first Dinarchy splintered from the non-nurturing beings to oppose the Ovals and their Confederation. This society, based on chaos and disorder, a situation felt to be the natural process in both universes. The Dinarchy, was small and intimidated until, through stealth, traitorous Ovals, and thievery built an armed force superior to the Oval Confederacy. In a bold strike, they obliterated an essential Burseeosil station in the star system, code named Jaguar, destroying eight Burseeosil and capturing the Osil tunnel. They moved quickly, eliminating resistance in strategic galaxies, threatening the Oval Confederacy with eventual extinction.
The Ovals, through an errant experiment, trying to obtain a secret way to pick up Dinarchy codes to break them, inadvertently opened a tunneling channel to Earth. The botched plan also gave them an armed force to spearhead the fight against the Dinarchy. They were able to observe brief snippets of Earth history, but at a tremendous cost to the experimental site. One of the things they observed was a hydrogen bomb explosion, which tunneled, seeched, into Arna from Earth, destroying an island on Arna in Hawaii's location. Unleashed, the radiation transmogrified, from Earth universe to Arna universe, into unstable matter-antimatter photon-antiproton reactions. The tunnel grabbed matter from Earth then shot back Arna matter back into the tunnel/rip in the continuum.
One of the many consequences created a plague on the planet Arna, which sterilized the majority of the Arna non-nurturers. At the same time individuals were seeched through the field and were the first breeders cycled by the Ovals. The initial Kril society was organized from the first Roman seeched. The process of seeching is dangerous and energy prohibitive. It can only be done for five days, every 52 years, 52 tun.
Kril World
This world exists where the Strings of Time intersect Universes.
This world exists because I exist. As you read the history you will
enter that universe. Actually, that Universe will enter your mind and
become reality during your time there...
Bump 1
2-23-10 He was going nowhere lying
down. His heart was exploding in his chest, his legs spasmodically
churning in flight. Blowing the blue sand from KrutChan's drooling
mouth, the blue stuff was flour-like and into everything. Keeping
his head down, he rolled over and carefully squinted, focusing on his Bump team
through the acrid red smoke.
The Toob was gnarled and
busted, destroying itself in a frenzied shower of yellow sparks and fire;
its hide blistering in the oxygen rich atmosphere. Some of the occupants, especially the ‘’ were glowing red-green in agony, the air attacking their wounds. They were being eaten alive chemically. A simple case of jumping quantum levels, he thought. The fuel the Toob used was pooling around it, fuel compartments leaking. The fuel did not react with oxygen. ?????On earth the machine would have been a fireball. On Balaam, this planet, metals and species were destroyed by it’s toxic atmosphere. Here only oxidized things survived. The unbonded were consumed. A human, who broke his suit or skin, though terribly painful, was safe after a seal occurred to heal the wound. Humans were oxygen beings breathing the poison since birth. The ‘’ were not that fortunate. They did not come from an oxygen rich atmosphere, like the humans. Their planet had atmosphere thinner in oxygen than the top of Mount Everest on earth. Other occupants scrambled quickly out of the vehicle. Other crews stumbled in a daze, then falling to the ground trying avoid the incoming blasts of counter fire from the…
its hide blistering in the oxygen rich atmosphere. Some of the occupants, especially the ‘’ were glowing red-green in agony, the air attacking their wounds. They were being eaten alive chemically. A simple case of jumping quantum levels, he thought. The fuel the Toob used was pooling around it, fuel compartments leaking. The fuel did not react with oxygen. ?????On earth the machine would have been a fireball. On Balaam, this planet, metals and species were destroyed by it’s toxic atmosphere. Here only oxidized things survived. The unbonded were consumed. A human, who broke his suit or skin, though terribly painful, was safe after a seal occurred to heal the wound. Humans were oxygen beings breathing the poison since birth. The ‘’ were not that fortunate. They did not come from an oxygen rich atmosphere, like the humans. Their planet had atmosphere thinner in oxygen than the top of Mount Everest on earth. Other occupants scrambled quickly out of the vehicle. Other crews stumbled in a daze, then falling to the ground trying avoid the incoming blasts of counter fire from the…
Seech Field Description
2-23-10 In a parallel time of his then, before his when, and his now, the
Seech field was growing into activation. [describe colors, energetic field
build up from layers of lasers, and gravitational spin ] The OvalchanHalach
looked at EkSeet trying to discern if he understood what was happening. His
name meant StarWisdom. He was old at the start when he was ‘seeched’ here due,
he learned during his time here, from faster than light transport. Invariably
the transport was lethal to the individual in eighty per cent of the cases.
The Oval's tried hard to save all the seeched individuals and resigned to using the leftover mass from the dead bodies to feed the missing mass in the seech field. A WW1 veteran from 1915; he had been disabled during his traverse through the Seech field, leaving him with a hunchback. The Oval belief was you existed and stayed alive no matter how the universe dealt the cards. An astronomer by discipline, with a theoretical physics background; he was made a historian here on Arna. Many times he remembered reading the theories of Albert, the faculty member at Karl-Ferdinands Universität in Germany he idolized, making Arna and the Ovals non existent; theoretically impossible. He agreed, yet could not argue how he got here and how he could exist ageing from old to young over the years. He reviewed all Stels of the Kril warrior class and is an expert on Oval and Kril Society.
The Oval's tried hard to save all the seeched individuals and resigned to using the leftover mass from the dead bodies to feed the missing mass in the seech field. A WW1 veteran from 1915; he had been disabled during his traverse through the Seech field, leaving him with a hunchback. The Oval belief was you existed and stayed alive no matter how the universe dealt the cards. An astronomer by discipline, with a theoretical physics background; he was made a historian here on Arna. Many times he remembered reading the theories of Albert, the faculty member at Karl-Ferdinands Universität in Germany he idolized, making Arna and the Ovals non existent; theoretically impossible. He agreed, yet could not argue how he got here and how he could exist ageing from old to young over the years. He reviewed all Stels of the Kril warrior class and is an expert on Oval and Kril Society.
Seech Field 1
2-23-10 Two
sets of identities were the first classes of our society...Virgin Sex
Drives and Killers.
...If you don't think so, you still have on your blinders over your eyes...Lillith and Cain....and the other ancestors of creation in other religeous history come to mind. Since I'm creatung the inhabitants, their sins are theirs, instigated by me. Follow me to hell, depravity, callousness, soulless rage or heaven-like utopia and the blissful happiness of peace in a civilization which has no faults...for this KrilWorld is as vicious and glorious as THIS World...it depends where you reside in a society. Aristocractic or Militaristic...their methods are totally different and perversely similar.
...If you don't think so, you still have on your blinders over your eyes...Lillith and Cain....and the other ancestors of creation in other religeous history come to mind. Since I'm creatung the inhabitants, their sins are theirs, instigated by me. Follow me to hell, depravity, callousness, soulless rage or heaven-like utopia and the blissful happiness of peace in a civilization which has no faults...for this KrilWorld is as vicious and glorious as THIS World...it depends where you reside in a society. Aristocractic or Militaristic...their methods are totally different and perversely similar.
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