Unison (The Spheral)
Read Unison (The Spheral) Online
Authors: Eleni Papanou
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Libertarian Science Fiction, #Visionary Fiction, #Libertarian Fiction
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination and visions or used in a fictitious manner.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This eighteenth incarnation of Unison contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, telepathic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher who claims copyright throughout her present and subsequent lifetimes.
Copyright © 2013 by Eleni Papanou
Philophrosyne Publishing
For updates, visit our website at:
http://philophrosyne-publishing.com
Book Cover design by Buzz Erlinger-Ford - [email protected]
ISBN-13: 978-0615659848
ISBN-10: 0615659845
eBook ISBN: 978-0-615-66241-1
Special thanks to my husband, Russ; my daughters; Daphne and Phoebe, and my mother, Penelope Papanou. Their support encouraged me from the start to finish of this novel.
The first incarnation of
Unison
was brought to life at:
Home: from Oahu to Maui
Starbucks - Oahu
Hawaii Technology Academy - Oahu
Fisher House - Palo Alto, California
Kapolei Public Library
Kihei Public Library
Luana Kai Resort in Maui
Waianae Public Library
Waipahu Public Library
Hickam Air Force Base Library
Hickam Air Force Base Gym
YMCA Gym - Waipahu
Music that inspired me most during the writing of this book:
Assemblage 23
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Steve Roach
Robert Rich
Lustmord
For Antonis Ladopoulos,
Who had the valor to hold the mirror in front of my face.
CONTENTS
COLORS WITHIN THE PALE ILLUSION
“The real, natural man is just in open rebellion against the utterly inhuman form of life.” Carl Jung
FIRST INCARNATION
T
ime is relevant to sound. An infinite voice sings life into this universe, and I’m but one note resonating within this expanse of boundless potential. While that’s an easy abstraction to grasp, my own potential remains elusive. After eight parallel lifetimes I’ve been adrift somewhere between struggle and mastery, both of which I now see as an illusion. I decided to chronicle my seemingly endless journey in an attempt to identify what I am.
I first realized there was something unusual about me in my ninth year, shortly after winning the lottery to go on a camping expedition. Wade and I took some climbing classes to prepare for our hike that would take us halfway up Emerald Mountain. Because of our age, we were restricted to the beginner wall that soon offered us no challenge. When Headmaster refused to move us to the next level, we waited until the athletic center closed for the night and snuck inside to climb the advanced wall. The ropes and harnesses were locked away, and we ascended without them. I found it difficult to handle the grips that were positioned for longer limbs and fell during my descent. After Wade yelled out my name, the outside world disappeared.
My awareness returned in the hospital, but my body remained unresponsive. I screamed and cried out in silence as I heard a doctor tell an Overmaiden I was in a coma and wouldn’t last beyond the week. Seven days later I was still alive, but my condition remained unchanged. To alleviate my increasing restlessness, I imagined myself exploring the deathlands. They fascinated me since I had learned about them at school, but the poison left over from the Great Cataclysm meant I could never visit them. The Earth I created had no limitations. There were no fumes to contaminate my lungs and no scourge to keep me from venturing too far beyond the dome. My arms morphed into metallic wings, and I flew over crumbling cityscapes that swayed like ghosts within the murky gray atmosphere. I searched for other lifeforms, but all I could see in every direction was a ceaseless expanse of decay and ruin.
Melancholia accompanied me on my lonely flight as I recalled Master Franklin’s last lecture when I expressed curiosity over the deathlands. He patiently reminded me the mind of man has a flaw that makes us destroy ourselves. Without the curative implant to protect us from this flaw, we’d still be fighting against each other like the Outsiders. Envisioning the Ancient’s graveyard gave me some comfort. If I were to die now, I’d die knowing the truth. Nothing existed outside Unity. Only in Unity could we resurrect a lasting peace. I was thankful to have the curative implant to spare me from the scourge. I was also thankful to the Overseer for selecting me to be born in Unity.
My sadness vanished when I flew over a massive seven-circuit labyrinth. I took a deep breath and blew away the haze to get a clearer view. The structure glistened like an opal under the sun. The elaborate output of my imagination inspired me to create my own reality to live in. I gave myself the powers of a god and returned the Earth to the pristine state it was in before the arrival of humans. Trees grew, flowers bloomed, and rivers flowed freely again, begetting life to the deathlands.
After the Earth healed from its injuries, my body transmuted into a spaceship. I glided through celestial seas, exploring distant galaxies and planets. The reality I created was more vibrant and exciting than the one I left behind, and I eventually forgot I was in a coma. Lifetimes of experiences went by, and I got older but never aged. I could’ve remained here forever, but I was still tethered to a physical body that was alive and waiting for my return.
The last world I visited had a crimson sky with black vegetation that sparkled under a red sun. When I landed to survey the land, a girl with the physiognomy of a cat approached me and said, “You don’t belong here.” She waved her hand in a circular motion, and everything melted into blackness.
