Make IT Real!, Sander R.B.E. Beals [uplifting novels .TXT] 📗
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- Author: Sander R.B.E. Beals
Book online «Make IT Real!, Sander R.B.E. Beals [uplifting novels .TXT] 📗». Author Sander R.B.E. Beals
We do not need to raise our voices, for the floater is as quiet as the proverbial mouse. Also its force field keeps out the air streaming by, without totally closing off the passenger area. Breathing is thus very easy. Jane is backward in her seat, trying to stuff as much of Inner Earth into her camera as she possibly can. I figure we'll have quite a hefty photo album, if we ever get home, that is.....
4444AD, Day 223, 07:08, Home
Sunlight streams in as the windows go into day mode. I look to my right, and behold the loveliest sight I could possibly wake up to: dark long hair on her pillow, eyes still closed, and her body partially uncovered from having experienced a relatively restless night, my specially engineered digital assistant rolls over and looks me into the eye. The twinkle in hers reveal she's up to something, or at least has been up to something.
“Come on, spill the beans!” I tell her, but she laughs and gets up, the translucent fabric of her night gown draping itself seductively around her nimble and petite body. I follow her to the shower, where textiles get thrown down to be later picked up and processed by the domestic droids. These are not lower lifeforms, but highly valued members of our household, doing the things we do not want to pursue.
Of course the ubiquitously installed holographic transceivers in the house can be programmed to recycle any stuff lying around, but we're a bit old-fashioned....
I grab Selina as I follow her into the wet cell, and kiss her passionately. She pushes me away laughingly, to discourage activities that might make showering take very much longer. “I've given your past self a surprise.....”, she teases. “Well, let's hope he is smart enough to pick up on it...”, I counter. “Oh, he'll get into the spirit, I'm far too enticing to not make a lasting impression upon him”, my twin says, and raises both eyebrows in an attempt to indicate a certain mischief. I know she's right, otherwise I would not just have gotten out of the same bed as her. But at the same time, she is probably talking about something I already know for a fact since recently. Otherwise she couldn't have pulled it off. Because that is the whole point you know: If you can pull it off, it's supposed to happen.... Thus, she probably just laid a first brick of the building that is us, and I never doubted that it has actually happened....
Only when we are toweling each other dry, does she finally reveal what she's done: “Do you remember our very first meeting?” she asks. “From which viewpoint?” I ask. In linear Earth time it would have been during the Egyptian dynasties, where she and I shared a common task in the priesthood serving in the temples there. In absolute fashion we never were apart, so we couldn't have met. And we've had untold lives together on countless planets throughout the various galaxies, so it could have been any one of these. “Earth, about 2007AD”, she clarifies. “Ah, yes”, I reply. “the way too beautiful colleague! You gave me quite a run for my money that time!”.
We've dressed, and get into the kitchen, where breakfast has already been started. Meals are no longer a necessity, since we've all become self-sufficient, and can pull the energy to sustain existence straight from the Source or any of its abundantly available distribution points. But eating does give off a quite distinct experience, certainly if the company you share it with is this intriguing. So yes, I enjoy my replicated bacon and eggs, while chit-chatting with my lovely mate.
“I really did have to get you to open up”, she continues. “That's right love”, I agree: “I would never in a million years have approached a lady that beautiful, who was also very married”. What I didn't say, but my lovely obviously knows, is that I was absolutely delighted when she made the first move, even though she was married....
With breakfast done, and the bots doing all the cleaning, the two of us decide to help the odds some more: we retire to the living room, and talk about those times, when a beautiful young lady took an interest in a guy almost twice her age.
It seems like a weird game of playing with yourself as a marionette, a mere puppet. But let's face it: even though most of you would object to being controlled by someone else, you would hardly object to being helped by yourselves. In the end we are all One, so neither of these situations is any different from choosing on your own, and it is for higher purposes: from our more experienced vantage point we can more easily see what is good for ourselves, and besides we use the free will viewpoint: we merely drop hints, with no inferred preference whatsoever.
And the reason is simple: we have no other objective than to give ourselves the very best possible experience within the framework we know: the good stuff is encouraged, and the bad stuff is discouraged, but all is done from the view of utter free will: we wouldn't dream of living your life for you, it is far too precious for us. And besides, we get to live the very best you made of it! And for that, we eternally thank you!
But not all is roses without thorns: Even now, there is a faction here which call themselves the Saviors: they employ advanced technology like we do, but unlike us, they pride themselves on being separate from that technology they yield. Most of what we can do, they also are quite skilled in, and they try to counter us every step of the way. We laugh at the attempts, for our belief in the intricate connectedness of the Cosmos gives us the edge: we see connections which they deny, and as such, they are running on only three cylinders, to use a quaint expression from the age of Combustion.
Friday, March 12th, 2010, 16:17
Yesterday, my third fitness class since ages was a delight. I had been exercising with my brother-in-law back when I was just married, but that was way back in '91, and ended when neither of us could find the time in our busy schedules to make it happen twice every week.
With the demise of my connection to Liliya I figured I'd have to get something to do besides hanging around the house every night, waiting for adventure to come to me. To make my effort also have something of value to my environment, I figured I'd look for volunteer work in our fair city, and bumped right smack into Leann: being a lady impaired by a disease we won't go into here, she was asking for someone to accompany her to the gym, because going on her own felt uncomfortable. We quickly came to an agreement, and have now already had three hugely satisfying workouts. I'm not sure what she gets out of it, but for me it isn't the better physical condition, or any weight loss that might be brought on by the calorie-burning exercises. Most important though, and I didn't remember it this way before, is the sensation of being in charge and operating this awesome machine, that we call a body.
I'm not quite sure when it started, this awareness of really being in a body instead of really being a body. And it is no sensation of separation, on the contrary! I feel like One, like the grass beneath my feet, the air I breathe, the body I control, all at the same time. The gym is just the same: awareness is just me, working the machines, experiencing the gleaming rods and black enameled metal, all at the same time. No different than riding my bike home in the afternoon, or taking the train home before that. I empathize with technology, feel their moods and experiences:
Nowadays, my bicycle is not its optimum self: the chain has developed slack, and beats against its casing with every revolution of the pedals. You could almost call it a bit cranky.... Also, its gears are a bit out of alignment, which makes forceful acceleration a hazardous action indeed! Soon as I can though, I'll let the local technician have a look at it.
Same for the laptop I'm writing this on: ardent use has messed with the keyboard, and loosened the L and D keys. Pretty soon I'll have to replace its keyboard, making it revert to perfect working order again.
It took me a while to arrive at such a nature though. In my time I've also murdered quite a few technical appliances. But it is an evolution which I, in this particular incarnation, have agreed to master: being able to fully utilize and collaborate with technology, in order to further the interconnectedness of the Cosmos.
One of the hapless victims I created was a Hewlett-Packard HP620LX, which was my faithful companion for quite a while. He left this world when I used him as a projectile, launched at my wife in the heat of an argument. She sidestepped, and it shattered against a solid concrete wall.
My granddad from father's side helped me get into this exercise in the first place. He was always tinkering with mechanical technology, and one day I decided I'd give my bike a new color. With minimal help from my granddad I took my bike apart right down to the bare nuts and bolts, neatly labeling or storing the various parts so I could find them again later. After painting and with a bit more help I also put it together again, having only two nuts left in the end.
“You must fight hard to break this spell”, Ayreon pumps out of the laptop's speakers in a
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