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expectations on perceptual reality. The third was an attempt to establish new
data on the basic nature of matter-energy systems. I began to acquaint myself
with each of these endeavors and even began to do a little independent study
on my own. I began to see parallels and correspondences in the three projects.
I conferred in detail with each team but didn t reveal the dovetails I d
spotted, for as time went on I became more and more certain that I d come upon
a major breakthrough, perhaps unequaled in history.
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Because of the rather relaxed administrative regime at the Grossen, I wasn t
interrupted. It s not unheard of for Senior Consulting Fellows of the
Institute to work for years before presenting their findings with only sketchy
progress reports in the interim. In fact, that s the only situation some of
the better researchers will stand for. Too, as a synthesist and a Senior
Consultant, I had unrestricted access to computer time and privacy. I was even
permitted to recruit a former student of mine, no questions asked, to assist
me. Actually the boy was the only one I thought I could trust.
Things became unbelievably complex, forever evading us with one more
unexpected factor. How many times we hit dead ends I do not even remember, but
it never seemed to matter. We always knew that somehow we would find an
answer. And a disturbing thing happened in those days; I felt myself coming
alive again for the first time in years. It can be a bit traumatic, I assure
you, to feel yourvallum oftædium vitæ slipping.
I am the scarred veteran of two divorces. I had become bored with the company
of my colleagues and intolerant of everyone else s. I found most of life s
pleasures either empty or juvenile. Yet now there was this desire awakening in
me to make this project work, a desire in no way connected with scientific
kudos.
Making practical application of the findings I had developed was more
difficult than I can tell you; you ll pardon me, I m sure, but you simply
don t have the vocabulary. I built a device to permit access to the perhaps
infinite universes which coexist with our own if, indeed, you and I are from
precisely the same one. To put it another way, I had hmm, let me see if I can
put this in terms you can follow yes, isolated a technique for translating the
Reality of one cosmos into a form perceptible in another. Call it a kind of
transportation if you will, or the creation of a contiguity between universes.
That s no more or less accurate than calling it a translation.
The first model was rudimentary, a sort of framework which served as the
contiguous point. I searched through a number of different universes, once
with almost disastrous results, and never seeing any that looked at all
inviting, until at last on a Friday evening I looked out at this one, at an
empty field in Coramonde, this place where we are now. I don t remember
actually stepping through the contiguity. All at once I was standing on the
other side, my hands in my pockets and my cigar still in my teeth. The breeze
that came up was . . . intoxicating. I felt full and at peace for the first
time in years. In the distance I could see a small village, lit by torches and
candlelight. The air was clean, with no hint of city or machine. In a way I
cannot explain, it was as if I d come home.
When I returned, my assistant, nearly hysterical, was plucking up the courage
to come through after me, although he d been able to watch me the entire time
through the contiguity. He did not share my enthusiasm for exploration, for
personal involvement in research.
But the few minutes I d spent in Coramonde had changed me irrevocably. I had
been given a last-minute reprieve from the barren life that I d accumulated
around myself. I had no one to consider; my ex-wives were well off and my
children a daughter by each marriage thought even less of me than I did of
them.
I monitored the contiguity for days, watched the shape and pace of life in [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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