by NB VanYoos
A Needle In The Universe
After his strange encounter with the mysterious voices, Tyler shrank inward, looking back at a life he would never see again. He was the first to admit he’d never been a good person—selfish was the right word, thinking only of himself and the next high. Was this his punishment? Not hell, but purgatory? He wasn’t sure but realized Linda and his former world were gone—probably forever.
These dark thoughts sank him further into the self-absorbed depths of depression. Selfish to the end! He thought miserably. He wanted to escape, to get high and forget what was happening, but he had none of the products that dulled the pain.
No cigarettes, no alcohol, no drugs! The last time he could remember such an existence was as a kid. Although his dependencies started easily enough in high school, it wasn’t until later they’d become a crutch to evade his inadequacies. They’d prevented him from seeing the inner Tyler, but now, all that remained was the inner Tyler locked in an insubstantial cloud—a loser wandering the Universe forever.
How would Linda handle his disappearance? How long had he been gone? What did time mean for something like him? Maybe time no longer mattered? Maybe Linda no longer existed? The thought chilled him.
Looking back over his short life, he wished he could make things different—make them right. He’d harmed Linda by bringing her into his world. It was a world of false happiness and shortsighted dreams. A world without children, a home, or … a family.
He’d always fooled himself into believing those things were only dreams as well, but now he’d never have the opportunity to find out. His one chance to make a change was cut short, and he knew he’d probably never see Linda again. Her face was fading from memory as he clung desperately, not wanting to lose her in the vastness of his new existence. But he was changing, and other thoughts intruded, blocking his memories that were all that remained of his existence.
Depression grew as new, strange visions popped into his awareness. People, places, and things swam past his inner eye in a procession that confused and disoriented. They pushed on his mind, trying to replace the memories he thought were his and his alone. Fear accompanied these strange, alien intrusions.
Something was trying to replace him! To erase Tyler and replace him with something foreign and disturbing. He fought the threat, willing himself to remember who he was and where he’d come from. He clung to his fleeting memories of happy times—times when he and Linda were intimate and close. He thought about their first meeting, their first time making love, and their first time sharing a high together.
He remembered her initial trepidations, but how she’d finally trusted him. They had a wonderful time at an amusement park, high, happy, and without a care in the world. He’d known right then that he wanted to stay with her forever, and with that admission came the usual fear that she wouldn’t reciprocate. And after five years, he still feared she would leave, realizing her mistake, returning to the normal life he could not provide. He knew she desired it.
Was he going to punish himself forever? Punish himself for letting her down, denying her what she deserved? Wasn’t his loss really her gain? Now she could move on with her life, reunite with her family and find someone stable to settle down with. He had no illusions her family wouldn’t mourn his disappearance. He hoped Linda might.
The grief was so real and palpable. I love you, Linda, I will always love you! This lone thought calmed his spirit, and the alien intrusion backed down. The strange visions were still there, lurking … waiting. He could sense them searching for an opportunity to surface and gain control.
Maybe this was what the voices had meant? Maybe this alien presence was something new and different? Maybe they wanted it to grow and change him. It was disturbing. I can’t let that happen, I won’t give myself up! He would fight hard to maintain possession of his awareness. A corner of his mind urged him to let go, to disappear into oblivion and free himself from the pain.
No, I will not succumb! I will not run from this reality!
The force of the thought struck Tyler hard. He’d always taken the easy path, avoiding conflicts, complexities, and pain. His habits were a sure sign of his unwillingness to meet challenges head on. He’d used the drugs to avoid and suppress, to self-medicate the illness he viewed as life. So where did this power of resolve come from? He didn’t know, but it, too, was alien. Regardless, he held onto it as a shield against the other.
Calm swept through his awareness and he took notice of the space around him. He was fascinated by the spinning galaxies painted on the dark canvas of space. It was beautiful and breathtaking. Like a collage or mobile strung out before him, moving slowly, yet rhythmically. How was he able to see so much? Surely the galaxies were extremely far apart and should appear as mere dots against the black background? How did he see them so close? They were like candy he could reach out and take in his hands? It puzzled him.
He thought about the ethereal cloud he’d seen and reached out with his awareness to feel those myriad parts. He sensed them spread thin against the void and willed them together, urging them to coalesce into a whole. But try as he might, he saw nothing of his essence. He knew they existed, but they were not visible.
How is it I see? It was an unusual thought but made sense considering the insubstantial thing he’d become. What other abilities did he possess? He heard no sounds—everything rotated to an invisible symphony. But wait, he’d heard the voices? Silence in space he could understand, but what if he was on a planet? Would he hear then?
How can I get to a planet? It was confusing. He could move his awareness, spinning the vision around, but how could he move in a direction? It was a strange sensation—akin to what paralyzed people might feel. He’d never thought of moving as something you had to think about. When you wanted to move, you simply did. Little conscious thought went into the process, so why couldn’t he move? He was instantly frustrated.
Ignoring the frustration, he diverted his thoughts elsewhere. Assuming for the moment he could move, where would he go? What would he do? He wanted to go back to Earth and his life with Linda. But where was that? He was certain he wouldn’t recognize his galaxy among the millions around him. Even if he could, where would he look? He didn’t know where Earth was in the Milky Way. He knew there were billions, if not gazillions of galaxies in the Universe, so how did one search that?
The daunting nature of his task sank him back into depression. Despair raised its ugly head, and with it, the alien presence stirred. Stop it! Stop it! He commanded, I will not give up, I will stay calm. This force of will brought calm, forcing the alien to retreat. It would be back. It waited on the edges, looking for an opportunity to gain the upper hand.
Think, think, where can you go? Perhaps he could look for others like himself, assuming they existed. However, as quickly as the thought came, he discounted it. The voices indicated he was something new, so he was probably a lone being in the Universe. But something must surely exist with which he could interact! Why make him alone? Where was the interest and beauty in that? In his mind he screamed at the voices, what do you want of me?
He didn’t actually think they heard him, but the release felt good. Anger was powerful, and it reinforced the newfound strength within him, giving him a reason to continue. I curse you for eternity. No one deserves this, no one!
He stared blankly at a galaxy floating nearby, a part of his mind deciding it looked like a brain—convoluted on the outside and slightly oblong. As he watched it float by, the galaxy suddenly grew, rushing as if to swallow him. The effect startled him, and as quickly as it had started, the galaxy snapped back to its original size.
Whooooa...
The incident scared him, but curiosity forced him to attempt to duplicate the effect. This time, he deliberately focused on the galaxy, watching it grow bigger, totally filling his awareness. When he looked away, it snapped back to its original size. Was this it? Was this how he could move?
He picked another galax
y and focused on its center. As before, the galaxy grew large, filling his awareness. Then, it snapped back when he took his attention away. The effect was disorienting, but at least it promised a chance to move.
A newfound resolve grew within him, filling him with hope he could find Earth and see Linda once more. The odds were against his success, but what else was he going to do? An impossible search seemed far better than floating aimlessly through space. It would be his quest—a quest to find home!
He knew he would have to master this ability to move through the Universe if he was to have even a remote chance of finding Earth. Causing a galaxy to grow larger in your awareness was one thing, moving through it was another. He managed to work out how to see through the sea of galaxies. That was easy: you only had to focus gently on a distant galaxy, and then move your vision beyond it until another came into view. After a little practice, it became nearly second nature.
Once he’d mastered this vision, he moved to the harder part—moving into the galaxy itself. He put all his concentration to the task, but every time he thought he had it, his awareness snapped back to his original starting position. He was missing something crucial, but couldn’t figure out what.
He wondered whether the alien presence knew how to move. It was risky to contemplate such a request, and he figured it wasn’t worth the reward. Still, a part of his awareness begged him to communicate with the entity to speed up the process. He ignored the urgings and continued to experiment.
There had to be something that would open the galaxies and move him to the next level. That was how he saw it, like layers to be penetrated as you moved inward. But how? Frustration threatened to stop his search, but once again, his new resolve forced calm. I must concentrate and find the missing piece to the puzzle.
He practiced focusing on a galaxy, then on something within the galaxy, moving inexorably down through the layers. His awareness pierced each easily, but as soon as he averted his attention, he was pulled out. He cursed himself for not being smart enough to find the missing clue. A part of his mind desired the chemical crutches that would make the process less frustrating. He laughed inwardly; Sure, I just need to be high!
He took a moment to reflect while he stared at the endless sea of galaxies around him. He picked out a spiral one and a small part of him thought it looked like it could be the Milky Way, but he dared not hope. He stared at the mass of stars shining brightly through the blackness wishing he could be inside its arms.
As if caught in a vortex, his awareness blurred as the galaxy he’d been watching exploded in a gray-white light rushing toward him at incredible speeds. Fear threatened to overwhelm him as he held on to the ride. Where was he going, and how?
As quickly as it began, it stopped. Once again, he was floating silently through space, but this time, instead of the billions of galaxies, he swam through a sea of stars and nebulae. In one direction, an intense brightness filled most of his vision. Everything moved slowly around this bright, sphere connecting everything with its invisible strings.
Surprise caught him off guard as he struggled to control his emotions when he realized he’d moved inside the galaxy. Somehow he’d pierced a layer but he couldn’t figure out how. What had he done?
Think Tyler, what did you do? He had stared at the galaxy calmly, but what else? Nothing came to mind, and the ever present frustration reared its head. He focused on the multitude of stars and glowing clouds of stellar dust wondering if they would leap into his awareness as before. Just as before, he could focus in on an individual item as it filled his awareness, but like before, they would snap back when his concentration wavered. At least he came back inside the galaxy. He hadn’t solved the puzzle, but he made progress.
He studied the galactic debris and wondered if this were the Milky Way. If so, Earth lay somewhere inside the starry soup. He held back hopes, not wanting to get ahead of himself. First, he had to understand what brought him here, and how he could go farther. Better yet, how could he go back? Could he? He had an innate sense he could, but didn’t know how.
Perhaps it was a one way ticket? But if that were true, his hopes of finding Earth were even more remote. Don’t dwell on it … get a grip and figure it out! The new resolve urged him onward, something he appreciated and despised. The old Tyler would have given up by now, but the new Tyler pressed on, forcing him to focus like he’d never done before. He resented it, but continued the search.
Though his mind tired of the efforts, he didn’t feel tired. Perhaps the new Tyler didn’t need sleep? He decided he felt the same as when he’d met the voices. It was unusual, but not displeasing. The weariness he felt was boredom or frustration.
He paused to watch the galactic dance swirl around him. He marveled at its immensity. Science was never one of Tyler’s strongest subjects, and although he’d read about Earth’s solar system, he never paid much attention to it. Like everyone he knew, he’d occasionally thought about what was out there and whether they were alone. But a few alien movies later, he felt confident they were not. Still, he’d never actually known what existed. Was it just voices without bodies? The memory of his strange encounter was eerie.
But living on Earth made such thoughts fleeting, an occasional diversion when you were too high to function. He could recall those times when he’d found himself drifting in dreamlike trances, wondering what the Universe was and what his place was within it. Unfortunately, as time went by, these highs transformed—still dreamlike, but fading quickly from memory. With those fading memories, the feelings of wonder retreated. Looking back, Tyler decided his entire life had been a dream—some high he’d experienced, now fading in the cold hard sobriety that faced him.
No! His resolve ripped through his awareness. It was happening again, he was losing himself. He felt the presence trying to insinuate itself into his mind. He grabbed hold of his resolve, fighting the presence.
He had to stay alert to keep from sinking into his past memories. Focusing on the galaxy once more, he remembered what he’d been doing before breaking into the layer. He tried to reproduce it, picking out a glowing cloud of blue, red, and purple, staring at it casually. It moved past other stars, and he noticed that it, too, contained stars. What would those stars look like from within the cloud of light? He wanted to see one up close and was about to focus when a blur of light rushed past. When it stopped, he was inside the cloud, the red-blue glow surrounding him.
He was awed by its breathtaking grandeur! The cloud shimmered and moved like ripples on a pond, and throughout its interior, clusters of stars shone brightly. It was a spectacular display of light, movement, and color—an abstract painting, yet three dimensional. For the first time in his life, Tyler gained a true appreciation for the beauty of the Universe.
Hope seemed in reach if he could master movement and find home. He was uncertain what he’d done to transition inward, but he knew it was not because of his concentration. Instead, the change occurred when he was not focused, yet wanting to see more.
Was it really that simple? Okay, you’ve done it twice, surely you can do it again. The thought prepared him for another attempt. He picked out a cluster of stars and stared gently at them. He thought about how they looked, one small and intense, the others, larger and less bright. He thought about the largest red star and wondered what it would look like up close. He didn’t focus but thought about being there. Like a door opening, he felt the transition and watched as a blur of light moved him down another layer. This time, the move was effortless and less intense.
He hovered over the red star, its immense bulk filling his awareness. He was awestruck by its size, brilliance, and power. He stared quietly into its depths, amazed at the sprays of light shooting along its surface. They reached out toward him before falling back like waves crashing on a beach. It was mesmerizing, like staring into a fire. The moment brought pangs of loneliness as he recalled many nights around a beach bonfire.
The star spun quietly on its axis, displaying a dram
atic show that would have brought tears to his eyes—if he’d had any. He felt both alive and yet insignificant. The size and beauty of this one star made him feel like a mote in an ocean of giants. This one cloud held hundreds of such stars, and the thought of those giants humbled him. The math was mind boggling and his quest seemed further from his reach.
A small planet suddenly spun past his awareness. It was so small in comparison to the red giant. It was only a black smudge against the bright background. He watched as it rounded the other side and disappeared. It was amazing something so small could even exist so close to the fiery mammoth. Although he felt no heat, the vision of the molten ball made him feel warm inside. He could only imagine the intense heat this close.
He turned his attention away and looked at the dark spheres he’d seen in the distance. He focused on one and it grew large enough to realize it was a planet circling the star. It, too, seemed large. It was dark green in color, while other colors flowed across its surface like a spinning marble. He thought about what it would be like inside the swirling colors and felt the rush of transition.
Gaseous clouds flew past at dizzying speeds. Their colors were shades of green and white with black mixed throughout. To his awareness, it felt like he was inside a tornado, but he felt nothing. It was a silent display with no sound to measure the intense fury around him. He watched small vortices whipping past like signposts on a road. The planet was clearly inhospitable, and he felt certain no life could exist in that maelstrom.
Although he felt nothing, his awareness could almost hear the rush of wind around him. If he’d been human, he would have been shredded like tissue. Eventually, the initial thrill faded, replaced with a feeling of vertigo. He wanted to move back out, but hadn’t yet figured that part. Fear threatened as he imagined being stuck in the swirling clouds forever.
He thought back to the red star, visualizing its magnetic rays of fire dancing on the surface, and at the same time, he thought about staring back at the planet from a distance. He felt relief as he transitioned once more. When it stopped, he was back above the red star, staring at the green planet.
That was it, he’d done it! He’d moved down a layer and back out again. The success filled him with confidence. He was no longer trapped, but free to search for Earth—to find Linda, and return home!
He visualized the gas cloud from a distance and transitioned back into the galactic pool. He was back at his original starting point, staring at the Nebula he’d been inside. Excitement grew as he felt a strong desire to master this newfound ability. With growing confidence, he practiced, seeking out different objects, submerging into their layers, before backing out once more.
He did it over and over again, each object a blur as he jumped from place to place and layer to layer, pausing long enough to pick his next target. After a while, he felt he’d mastered the ability, so he stopped in the middle of the galactic swirl, a kind of contentment sweeping through him. He looked back through his travels and remembered every object he’d seen. He could call it up from memory, and if he wanted, travel back to it in an instant. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Not even his greatest highs could match the thrill of traveling across such vast distances in the blink of an eye.
Unfortunately, like all new things, the thrill would fade, but the memories would last forever. For now, he relished the moment, calm spreading through him after the intense rush. He gazed quietly at the movement of stars while the sensation ebbed.
He could begin his journey and go where no man had gone before. He chuckled at the thought.
