Luminary
fiction by Ryan Graczkowski

September 27, 2010

“In order to do this,” she said, “you have to unlearn everything that you thought you knew.”

“What do you mean?” Don asked. Donatello “The Donut” Daniels wasn’t exactly sure what all this meant.

“As in, your perspective. You have to understand what it is that you are, and what I am, and how it all works together.”

“Well, I’m working on it, but it’s still… well. Complicated.”

“It works this way,” she said. “You and I are both more than matter.”

“I know,” Don said. “What we’re really made of is energy. Atoms and protons and neutrons and all of that.” Star stuff, he used to call it back when he was younger. We are all made of stars.

“Yes, but you don’t naturally behave as one conscious of the difference. Our brains evolved to deal with matter, not with the energy that underlays it. What does that mean?”

“That I have to see it – the interconnection of things and how I affect it.” I think. I hope.

He knew about it of course. The world had been rapt with attention when the Gnos and the Armites had let their war break out over Earth’s skies. It was the confirmation – that they were not alone in the universe.

Furthermore, the revelation of technology – that dark energy was something that could be tapped into and used, that ships could travel as fast as the speed of thought – had changed everything.

And he could use it. He could do it. He’d been given a chemical computing boost, a Mental Amplification Generator Implantation Component. He was Implanted, what some would call MAGI, what he referred to as Amped. And now this lady, this gnosi – and she didn’t feel human – she was to teach him.

“The easiest way is to work with the stars,” she said. “You can feel their impact on you. The closest is your star, your sun. Do you feel it?”

They were sitting outside on mats at high noon. The sweat was dripping down his face, but he didn’t move to wipe it off.

“Close your eyes – I want you to feel the sunlight.”

So he did. He closed his eyes and just let it wash over him. There was no doubt – the connection was there. He didn’t have to see it to believe it, it was something he could feel.

“Now try to feel the light – the wave-particle – feel it in your particles.”

His brow furrowed as he concentrated. He could feel his stomach rumbling. MAGI, with their chemical processors, burned through four thousand calories easy.

Just focus, Donut. It was there, he could almost reach out and take it-

And that was when it happened. A click. He didn’t see it, not with his eyes, but he suddenly felt like he had a million tiny strings, and if he pulled just enough on one, something might happen.

“Good,” she said. “Now, what are we?”

“We are stars,” he said. “We are stars with ideas.”

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