The Edge of the World
Again my apologies to the readers who had not anticipated my blogs sudden turn into a serial novella.
None of the converts are willing to talk to me, but I am directed into a lavish dining room decked out with an interior like a mountain cloud forest. As much as I've always loved orchids and humidity, the lush environs reminded of the horrible wars that plagued the third world. As I looked up into the interior dome, I sensed the fading glimmers of the dying sun, peaking through the domed ceiling.
Gretchen is already seated at an intimate corner table. As I approach her I again start to sense that raw genius that had drawn me to her in the previous century. She wore her trademark sweater and I felt strangely at ease. I think I heard her thoughts. I've gone through decades of therapy, just to eliminate the private insanity of my "Kriyas." The popularization of alternative medicine has made my suffering treatable. But, then I realize, it's not me. Gretchen is telepathically pinging me. I chose to keep my skills unpublished with the hope of protecting the general populace from the dangers of mind control. It had been years since I'd used this form of communication. For all the so-called psychics selling spirit technology, none of them were any good at it. Only my teacher and his secretary seemed to get the subtle humor that comes with real intimate understanding.
But now Gretchen was here with all my favorite macrobiotic dishes. I felt her warmth for the first time since we had finished the "Mutual Profiling" app. It was the cornerstone of both of our web industries. I had been a real pig for demanding a level of unhackable security. That made it necessary to make it hard copy only, which won me a Pulitzer for my writings. She then had been left with only the unfinished web design. But she did get to keep all the advancements in secure firewalling, but that all belonged to her anyways. Coding on the computer wasn't my thing. But now, this time I was hearing her voice in MY head.
So I thought, "I'm game." And as I sat down and was drinking in the fragrance of the meal, I imagined saying, "Que Pasa?"
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I heard in my head, as loud as if she were using words. I paused to pull my chair in and looked back at her to my left and thanked her for the hospitality. Her eyes twinkled but there is still the hint of stress behind her notorious self-control. We knew each other very well. We not only supported each other through our friendship but had also been the first two humans to beta test the mutual profiling assays. The success of our programs was in their usability.
"Gretchen, you know Gunter is probably having the whole of Interpol scouring the globe for me right now, don't you know?" She assured me that Gunter was informed that I would be spending the night with her and that I was her guest. She also clarified that there would be much I had not been told.
