As I continued deeper into NIO-5, my direct experience became akin to watching the falling of leaves. Just as my gaze cannot dictate the spin of falling leaves, I could not dictate movements of my body – yet, I moved forward. I could close my mind’s eye for a moment, and upon returning my awareness to my direct experience, I would notice that I had continued navigating deeper into NIO-5, despite lacking all conscious intention. Suddenly, I saw it. The quantum tryptamines, which I knew to exist within some domain within this being, were at last discovered. The essence of whatever could be thought of as my hand lunged forward in the exo-suit to grab hold of it. My Akashik navigator would allow me to find her, throughout all possibilities in space-time – I could get to Teresa.
I could not dictate movements of my body – yet, I moved forward.
“Do you really think your Akashik navigator will work just as well out there as in your lab?” asked Paulo.
I began to answer him, “If my analysis of NIO-5 is correct, then it should. NIO-5 is not just a physical phenomenon. Its iridescence and its dynamic topological changes aren’t just physical phenomena that we can make sense of with the models we keep throwing at it. However, if you think of this entity…”
Paulo interjected, “Entity…there’s that word again.”
“It’s fitting. This entity’s behavior…”
Paulo interjected again, “Behavior… there’s that word again.”
“And yet, after all this talking, you have nothing to say about the theoretical validity of my analysis? Temper your anxieties, Paulo. This entity’s behavior, dynamic changes in observer-dependent iridescence and topological features, can be modeled if one conceptualizes it as quantum phenomena that somehow can be scaled up to the size of the moon. And I call it behavior because I believe the only way this could be achieved is if the quantum processes are somehow under some quasi-influence by some form of consciousness. Moreover, what about the subjective reports of the survivors from the recent INASA voyage to the most recently discovered Non-Euclidian Iridescent Object (NIO-5)? They can hand-wave it away as ‘unknown electromagnetic disruptions’ but their machinery wasn’t affected and the measured properties of NIO-5 were temporally correlated with aspects of the subjective reports. This is basically a disembodied sentient entity drifting in space. It is not consciousness manipulating matter, nor matter manipulating consciousness, rather an entirely new semi-stable manifestation within the Akashik field, that may go beyond the Akashik field,” I replied. I tried to steady myself as I drew a long breath through my nose and closed my eyes as I exhaled through my pursed lips. “The Akashik field is an incredibly powerful force that drives both matter and consciousness, manifesting as high-frequency oscillations, which create matter, and low-frequency oscillations that give rise to our phenomenal, or subjective, consciousness. The brain is essentially phase-locked coherence of these two vibrational modes. However, the Akashik field for our Universe is just that – the Akashik field for Our Universe. I believe whatever force holds together the infinite array of Akashik fields, simply appears to us as NIO-5 in our particular reality. NIO-5 is the bridge between everything that can ever be or has been.”
It is not consciousness manipulating matter, nor matter manipulating consciousness, rather an entirely new semi-stable manifestation within the Akashik field, that may go beyond the Akashik field…
Paulo was trying to process this, but as an engineer, these topics were typically too theoretical for his liking. He slowly rotated his gaze around the meeting room and recalled the event I had mentioned. “I remember reading about the experiences of the INASA crew. The minds of each of the explorers were altered so grossly that every single individual was institutionalized under the diagnosis of ‘Trauma Induced Cosmic Psychosis’. This was just an attempt to force a category for something otherwise not understood – but their subjective reports matched nothing else we know of. They spoke of fundamental frequencies, entities, Crystal Cathedrals… They were simply so terrified and disoriented that their minds gave away.” Paulo stopped himself, as he felt his chest tightening with his anxious breaths.
“You seem to be getting worried again.” I asserted.
“I didn’t stop being worried,” said Paulo.
“I’m not trying to die,” I assured him.
Paulo looked down and pressed the thumbs of his clenched hands in between his eyebrows. “It doesn’t seem that dying would be the worst outcome.”
Hoping to calm Paulo, I teased, “Oh, okay Edgar Alan Paulo. They weren’t prepared, but I am.”
“And you just need the vehicle, right?” said Paulo.
“Paulo, you did my laundry, this is much more dignified. You’ll be a demi-god at the conference next year.” I said.
We chuckled, as smiles slowly stretched our lips across our faces, but our eye’s told the truth – this was a bittersweet agreement. I didn’t care for what might happen to me, but I was sunken at the possibility that my own demise may leave Paulo with even a sliver of what I experienced with Teresa.
They spoke of fundamental frequencies, entities, Crystal Cathedrals… They were simply so terrified and disoriented that their minds gave away.
I was uncertain how much time had passed me by. My thoughts lost all reason, my emotions all feeling – I was forgetting how to think or discern the elements of raw experience.
“You were a brilliant man in this version of reality, weren’t you, Caesar?”
I was confused. I had lost all familiar sensation. I could understand, but I couldn’t hear. I could witness, but I couldn’t see. Though the Self remained, it quickly became merely another dimension of the observable. I wondered if I could communicate, even though I –
“I am Teresa.”
Teresa? There was nothing, or more specifically there was not something, only an undulation of everything.
“Not your Teresa, I’m sure you can come to appreciate, if not understand. This Teresa is simply It. There are a lot of other suffering Teresas though. You can’t stand most of them. It doesn’t matter, though.”
There was no air to gasp, and yet I was suffocating.
“Try to take a breath.”
“Your attempts were quite naïve, Caesar. I love you. Goodbye.”
I laid next to our garden…I could smell our herbs… I wept for myself.
About The Author
Victor Pablo Acero
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