《Travels Of The Infinite Mind》 The Mindskipper In a circular silver, well-polished chamber room, a solitary bald human man is seated in the middle of it. All he has on are pure white clothes; just a loose-fitting shirt and a pair of pants of a light fabric. The clinical-looking, yet unconstricted attire, is meant as a form for comfort, as he maintains being deeply engaged in meditation. The man slowly breathes in and out as he keeps himself in a precise, crossed-legged position. His arms rest upon his knees, with both hands open and the palms up. The air is still in this spacious chamber, with only a faint rhythmic hum reverberating in the background. The sphere-shaped room echos the sound in a melodic fashion, causing him to mimic the motion as he breathes to the tempo. The reflection of him on the brushed-dull metallic surface is nothing more than a vague blur, a white and flesh coloured blob without any definition or detail. His eyes remain tightly closed. His thoughts are purposeful, steadfast, and of a single purpose: There is no space. There is no time. The cosmic aether must flow. I am the vessel that steers through it. I am the engine that drives it. I travel from one point to another. I see everything and nothing. Existence and non-existence, I point the way, and travel to the destination. Slowly, he opens his eyes, a vision appears on the smooth metal surface; the cosmos reveals itself before him, like a round window appearing out of nowhere and shows everything with depth and clarity. Billions of stars burn brightly in the void of deep space, orbiting planets near them shimmer and shine, like sprinkled glitter on a black sheet of paper. As the meditating man moved his eyes, so too did the image; It widened to a panoramic view, so that no matter where he looked, the interstellar vision would be always present before him. He stopped and focused his gaze on one particular spot. He raised his right hand and pointed to a light that was furthest away. I shall move there. I am already there. I am orbiting the planet closest to it. I feel like I¡¯m in two places at once. I am the arrow waiting to be launched from the bow. All it takes is a word, a word to send me from one point to another. Say the word¡­ say the word and take me there. He lowered his pointing finger and continued to stare at the light. ¡°Go¡­¡± He stated softly. Within an instant, the section of space he looked at swirled and stretched, the entire chamber was now a vast tunnel of twisting space and vibrant colours of spinning lights. It looked as if he was levitating, floating through a vast maelstrom corridor and heading for the bright dot at the other end. His meditative position never changed as he glided through it and kept his eyes squarely focused on the object approaching quickly. Once it appeared in full view, the man simply blinked, and the twisting corridor of light instantly disappeared. He was now face to face with a large blue-green planet that orbited around a bright orange-yellow sun. He was hovering over the top part of the planet. As he turned his gaze around, the vision continued to show his surroundings. He could see a large hulking spaceship behind, as if it were brushing against his back. ¡°We are here¡­¡± He softly spoke again. ¡°Your new home awaits.¡± Slowly, he closed his eyes. The vision disappeared and the metallic room took form again. He was no longer floating, or giving the appearance of doing so, and was sitting firmly on the base of the chamber, just as he had always been. The rhythmic pulsations began to slow, his breathing became normal, and he focused his thoughts again. Time is restored. Space exists. I am of this place and of this time. I exist. The ship exists. We are here, on the far side of the galaxy. I must let go of the aether. Let it go¡­ let it go. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. The chamber was now quiet. He unfolded his legs, gave them a rub to bring the feeling back, and proceeded to stand up. He was shaken at first, having to sit for so long, but adjusted quickly and walked over to the far right side. He placed a hand on the curved section and commanded it to open. A green light flashed where his hand was, and the door became visible as it pulled away and moved off to the side. The sudden rush of air resonated in the round room and caused the man to flinch slightly from the sound. He exited the place and stepped into a new section. A group of people were waiting for him there. They were dressed in white medical gowns, masks, and protective gear. They inspected the man diligently; using medical scanners, checking his eyes, his dexterity, snapping their fingers by his ears, and asking him random questions: This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°Who are you? Where are you? What year is it? How do you feel?¡± These were standard procedures after coming out of the chamber. He was used to such things. He obliged them and answered each one. ¡°I am Paul Carver¡ªThe Mind-skipper, we are on the interstellar carrier vessel, The Faraday. We are currently in orbit of our destination, Daedalus Sigma-nine-nine-five. It¡¯s twenty five-seventy two, and I feel¡­¡± he paused for a second, trying to think. He gave a slight glare to one of the gowned observers, tapping on a pad each time he answered and smirked. ¡°I feel just fine.¡± The medical observer nodded at his answer and typed it in. Once they were satisfied, they handed him a pair of socks and boots, as well as a plain white-jumpsuit, and led him to the change room. Paul redressed himself, removing the other garb, and placed them into a small container opposite a bench he could sit on. He gave a long sigh, stretched out his back, and started to yawn while scratching his belly. ¡°You are clear to proceed.¡± A female voice announced over a speaker high above. ¡°The next travel time is in four days. Enjoy your rest till then.¡± Paul Carver passively nodded in response, and headed out of the change room. He then stepped into a large corridor, grey-metallic in design, full of panoramic windows along the side, which displayed a view of the blue-green planet he had envisioned. Paul stood before the window and took in the sight. Sometimes it was hard to believe what he was seeing with his own eyes. Being in the chamber tends to open your mind to things far beyond your human level of understanding. Mindskippers are gifted remote-viewing psychics, ones that can manipulate and focus their powers in specially designed chambers. Those chambers help to harness their mental abilities and give them the means to travel anywhere in the universe. Space travel no longer needed huge power sources or engines of unbelievable feats of technology to whisk humanity to the furthest regions of interstellar space¡ªthey just needed people like him. Mindskippers are the navigators, the pilots of the voyage; They are the most important humans of any ship. Paul rarely believed he was, feeling that it was just a job, like any other person serving on board. He¡¯d rather walkabout as a virtual unknown, then be looked on and praised as a god. He was no deity. Paul felt he was just some guy that takes ships from point A to point B on a daily basis. He rubbed his bald head in thought, reflecting on that, and resumed walking down the long ship corridor. He needed to sleep. The mental and physical strain was always tiring, especially on long destinations such as this. And, although it might be brief to those on the vessel, for those that were the Mindskippers, it could feel like years. The reasoning for that, according to their trainers, was that their minds were actually traveling separately through the cosmic aether for much, much longer. The aether is a slipstream that connects both time and space, and it can put a great strain on one¡¯s own life-force when using it, when the mind carries on beyond the body and drifts through realities where physical laws have no hold. If done improperly, one could be lost in the fabric of the cosmos forever. It¡¯s only happened a few times in the past, as far as he could remember, but it¡¯s always a concern, nevertheless. * * * The crew (both military and civilian) had separate corridors to walk through on the ships. It was a necessary precaution. Mindskippers needed a wide birth from anyone after such journeys. Their minds tended to be too sensitive after doing such long sessions, and would often accidentally pick up stray thoughts with those they came in close contact with. A walled partition was usually the best way to contain it, keeping them from having eye to eye contact and zeroing in on those individuals brainwaves. Mindskipperss live in silence for a few days, but once they were well-rested, they could rejoin society as they waited for their next mission. Paul was just rounding the next corner when he suddenly got a cold shiver down his spine. There was a feeling of dread that washed over him. He turned about sharply, as if someone tapped him on the shoulder. He knew something wasn¡¯t quite right. It was like someone was watching him from a distance. He glanced at few people making their way through the corridor, but no one was just standing there eyeing him. He rubbed his head again, dismissing the feeling, and continued on down the corridor. He wondered if it was just a side-effect from being in and around the chamber. That always occurred to many who did this type of navigating. The chamber, or The Mirror Room, as some called it, was constructed and purposely shaped to focus human brain waves. Only a handful of people can use this chamber to its full potential. They have to be trained, disciplined, and given lots of psychological tests to make sure they are the best candidate possible. Only the best of the best can remote view and bring an entire vessel from one point of space and time to another. Yet, each person who¡¯s ever been in such a room have often reported feeling afraid or that someone was watching them. A strange feeling that always lingers soon after a journey. Paul wasn¡¯t immune to such things, either. That sense of fear would always return after a few trips back and forth. He had to reflect on his training and keep those negative thoughts from overwhelming his mind. ¡°Let it go¡­¡± Paul uttered silently. ¡°Just let it go.¡± Sleep is what he needed indeed. He hurried to his quarters and continued to repeat the mantra till he reached his room. In four days, he¡¯d be doing this all over again. * * * Like all those who were in position, he needed to take drugs to help him get into the process of sleep. A strong sedative with some modified Benzodiazepines tend to help decrease the brain activity and allow for a better rest. If they didn¡¯t take this form of relation, there would be complications, resulting psychotic episodes, such as¡ªmania, psychosis or paranoia. All of which have happened to previous, and even some current navigators on long missions. Thankfully, he¡¯s never had such a schism. He¡¯s learned to take the meds soon after and get as much sleep as possible. ¡°Four days¡­¡± He mused, while swallowing his pills and taking a drink to wash it down. ¡°Maybe I can get at least two full sleeps in before that. But, four days¡­ that¡¯s a stretch¡­¡± He sat down onto his bed, which was more like a cot welded to the metal wall. The mattress was comfortable enough, a sufficient thickness that made it enjoyable to lay down on and aid him on his way to slumber. He gave a quick glance of the room as he stretched and yawned. His room was small and confined. Just enough livable space for him alone; There was a sink, a half kitchenette, a bathroom, and the all important bed. It was perfect. More than any single bachelor would dare to dream to have for their own space. Sure, a love life would be nice, but, when you do this kind of work, you don¡¯t get to meet too many people. He chuckled, giving some thought on that. ¡°All that¡¯s missing is the sex, not that want it right now, anyway¡­¡± He leaned back in bed and started to settle in. As he could feel the drugs taking effect, he started to get that feeling again¡ªlike someone was there, watching him. He darted his eyes about, trying to catch whatever it was¡­ but there was nothing. He tried to shake it and closed his eyes. Slowly, his mind faded out, he let go of his focus and felt at peace. But as he opened his eyes again briefly again, he saw a faceless being standing over him, a shadowy tall figure with glaring red eyes. Paul¡¯s shock upon seeing it was subdued, the drugs had paralyzed his muscles and dulled his mind. The shadowy figure was almost translucent, it leaned in closer and fixed its gaze on him intently. In a raspy voice it spoke to him, just as he slipped into unconsciousness. ¡°I¡­ see¡­ you.¡± Something Is Out There Paul awoke in terror. He sat up immediately, screaming in fright. He glanced about the room in a frantic state, and wailed like a frightened child. He leapt out of his bed in a panic, shoving himself into the nearest corner of the room and cradling himself. That faceless, shadowy nightmare of a being was no where in sight. There was no one in his room (other than himself). He fell to the floor crying and curled up into a ball. It took him a few minutes to get over the traumatic event. Once he was calm again, he stood back up, approached the wall on the opposite side and tapped on it with his thumb. A section slid open and revealed the bathroom contained within; It wasn¡¯t very big, just a sink, a sonic shower, and toilet, an all-in-one room that no bigger than a closet. He tapped his thumb on the micro-sink¡¯s faucet and splashed the small amount of water coming out of it onto his face. He tried to cool down, bringing his thoughts back into focus once more. ¡°Let it go,¡± He repeated over and over. ¡°Just let it go¡­¡± He checked the date and time on the built-in digital wall clock above and gave look of surprise. Three days had past since he took to his bed, three days of non-stop sleeping. That was far too long. He had to eat and re-hydrate. He quickly turned on the tap again, cupping the water and gulping it down. The feeling of it passing through his veins was refreshing, his body definitely absorbed it quickly, causing him to scoop up more as fast as he could. ¡°Three days¡­¡± He gasped while wiping his mouth clean. ¡°Geez, that¡¯s the most I¡¯ve ever done. I need to increase the alarm strength. It didn¡¯t wake me this time.¡± No sooner had he stepped out of the bathroom, when a chime singled over head. ¡°Yes?¡± He responded to it, looking up. ¡°It¡¯s Doctor Yazaki Yumi,¡± A female voice replied over the speaker. ¡°Are you okay, Paul?¡± ¡°Yumi?¡± He questioned to himself. ¡°Why is she here?¡± The door to his place slid aside to the right, and the young Japanese female doctor stood there looking at him with concern. Paul took note of her youthful appearance every time they met. He still assumed she was around his age, though, he couldn¡¯t be quite sure of that fact. Genetic manipulation and cellular regression was almost a constant in this era. Still, he knew full well not to pry about, even if he curious to know, Yumi was still the authority over him, and he had to constantly remember that fact. ¡°Paul?¡± She said, again with concern. ¡°Where have you been?¡± ¡°Shit¡­¡± He thought. ¡°I was supposed to meet her a day ago for my mental examination.¡± He quickly apologized to her and motioned for her to step into his place. She nodded in acknowledgement and crossed the threshold. Before the door closed, Paul apologized again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I must have over slept. Please forgive me, I hope this won¡¯t affect my navigation licence.¡± Doctor Yumi appeared displeased, at first, but then gave a slight nod, giving him assurance it was fine. She wore an all-grey and black medical smock, but sleeves of her light blue one-piece suit she wore underneath was partially visible. Yumi took a seat by his bed, and studied him carefully as he continued standing there with a bewildered look. ¡°I¡¯m concerned about you.¡± She stated. ¡°You¡¯ve put in far more time than any other Mindskpper in the fleet. Sleeping longer is a side-effect of mental exhaustion. Perhaps it would be best to take you off of it for awhile¡­¡± ¡°No!¡± He snapped in reaction. That surprised her and recoiled from his abrupt voice. He apologized again for his rudeness, and sat beside her, quelling his aberrant behaviour. ¡°What I mean to say is, I¡¯m fine, I don¡¯t really want to take a break. It¡¯s not about being tired or mentally strained.¡± She cocked an eye brow at him. He conceded with a nod. ¡°Okay, maybe a bit. But, I¡¯ve been really getting better on my remote viewing destinations. I can almost touch the surfaces and smell the atmospheres of those worlds. The more I do, the greater the accuracy we¡¯ll have in reaching those planets.¡± ¡°But your mind is not the only one transporting itself to those places.¡± She said, crossing her legs reflexively. ¡°The lives of all those on-board are also with you on the journey. If you should have schism or look too far ahead¡­ say into a supernova or a pocket of radiation you weren¡¯t aware of, you and all of them would perish.¡± He conceded again to her wisdom. He wasn¡¯t really thinking too much about that. He has heard of some Mindskippers having wandering thoughts or distractions that lead to near disasters, but nothing to the level what she was on about. There were jumps to places that weren¡¯t entirely accurate, or were so off-course that the Mindskipper had to return to the point of their original point of launch. It was very hard for some to keep that level of focus. But not Paul, he was always looking to perfect his RVL¡¯s (Remote Viewing Leaps) to nearly one hundred percent accuracy. The most he or any could do was about eighty-percent, possibly ninety, which was still fairly on point, but Paul felt he could make it better, more exact. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He gave a drawn-out sigh and rubbed his face. ¡°That hasn¡¯t happened to me so far. So, I think I¡¯m doing pretty good here. I just feel the more I can do the better I¡¯ll be.¡± ¡°Paul,¡± She said, placing a hand on his. ¡°You need the rest. I bet if we looked at your brainwave activity, we¡¯d see signs of mental degradations. All Mindskppers need some RnR once and awhile. You¡¯re important to the fleet¡­ and to me.¡± Yumi recoiled her hand as she caught herself admiring that fact. It was something she hadn¡¯t wanted to say, but, ended up putting it out there nonetheless. Paul was oblivious to it. He hadn¡¯t picked up on her last words and ignored it. He stood up and arched his back in a stretch. ¡°Maybe I should take a bit of time to relax, I guess. It takes a lot to project a ship and myself to the other side of the galaxy.¡± He snickered lightly and grinned at her. ¡°I¡±m the cosmic horse with the buggy attached to it, eh, doc?¡± Yumi was still slightly flustered from her prior words, she gave a coy smile and nervously agreed. She instructed him to visit the medical bay at his earliest convenience and left the room abruptly. Once she was gone, Paul gave a confused look. ¡°Was it something I said?¡± * * * One hour later¡­ Paul changed his outfit and decided head off to the mess hall for some food. He still hadn¡¯t eaten yet, and his stomach was constantly reminding him of it. He denied to take a short cut and go through an area that was usually light of personnel. Avoidance was best, of course, but, Paul hated staring at nothing but bulkheads day-in and day-out. He could tolerate a few random thoughts from the odd crewman, if need be, but he would have to make sure his thoughts didn¡¯t project to their minds if he glanced up at them. The Faraday clung to a relative close orbit to Daedalus Sigma-nine-nine-five, giving a very detailed view to those strolling along the ship¡¯s panoramic windowed corridors. Thankfully, no one was around as Paul strolled past, just as he hoped. He eyed the planet with all of its splendour. ¡°Gorgeous¡­¡± He softly stated while gazing upon it. The planet was a beauty to behold. With its infinite mountains, cliffs and canyons of green, one could see why humanity was drawn to it. The oceans parted the continents much like Earth¡¯s, and the lakes and long rivers etched into each one like a masterful work of art. This was an untouched world. A wondrous place where life thrived and nature preserved itself in perfect harmony. Paul had already seen it before, in his mind¡¯s eye (of course0, prior to the jump, and felt an instant connection to it in some small way. All of his remote views had felt strangely familiar somehow, he wasn¡¯t sure as to why that was, only that it was a feeling he got every time he used his mind to cross the space-time gap. He paused for a moment, taking in the beautiful scenery before him, and touched the glass with his right hand. He closed his eyes and began thinking about being on the surface. * * * Instantaneously, he was there, standing in the lush greenery and hearing the roar of the multiple waterfalls close behind. The cliffs parted in sections, resembling a coliseum with many pillars holding up the rest of the structure. The waters cascaded over it and sprayed the surrounding with a soft mist. He could almost feel those droplets caress his skin as the distant sun rose over the horizon. It was tranquil, a rest he had yearned for, perhaps the very location he wanted to be in for his time off. High above in the sky, he could make out the faint dot that was The Faraday. The ship was soon obscured by fluffy white clouds that slowly concealed it from view. He smiled and watched a flock of bird-like creatures move swiftly over top of it. An impressive species that sported overly sized wingspans, whom playfully, and gracefully, glided through the atmosphere with relative ease. Paul viewed it all with a beaming smile. This was like coming home to him. ¡°You do not belong here.¡± A raspy voice said from behind. Paul turned around and saw the shadowy translucent figure again, with its glaring red eyes. ¡°You¡­ do not belong¡­ here.¡± The creature seemed to meld with the surroundings, like a phantom, it hovered and drew in closer to him as it continued to repeat its statement. Paul froze in fear. Those eyes, those glowing spotlight eyes, penetrated his very soul and caused him to scream. * * * Removing his hand from the ship¡¯s window, Paul returned to his senses. He wasn¡¯t there. He was still onboard the vessel. The vision was over. But was it a vision? Or was it more of a waking dream? He couldn¡¯t be sure. It was becoming increasingly harder to tell each time it occurred to him. Paul began to wonder if Doctor Yumi was correct in her assessment of his state of being. He needed to take time off, indeed. He looked about and tried to regain his focus again. ¡°I¡¯m on the ship.¡± He said, taking in long deep breaths, then exhaling them out slowly. ¡°That was¡¯t real, just remember, it wasn¡¯t real.¡± Paul wiped the sweat from his brow. To his horror, it wasn¡¯t sweat¡­ it was water. He wiped it off again to be sure. Then he felt his arms and neck, it was moist as well. His skin was covered in it. ¡°It can¡¯t be¡­¡± He gawked at it. ¡°It¡­ it can¡¯t be the mist from the waterfall? But, I wasn¡¯t there¡­ I was only thinking about it. I didn¡¯t I couldn¡¯t have¡­ I¡­. I¡­ oh, god¡­ did I?¡± He glanced back at the world filling the window view and continued to gawk at it in disbelief. ¡°What the hell is happening to me?¡± Food For Thought ¡°You look like shit, Paul.¡± ¡°Gee, thanks Mike.¡± Mike sat down on the opposite stool at Paul¡¯s table in the mess hall. The seating area was small, and had a wrap-around wall surrounding it, with only one entry point. It was the only private spot in the entire room, as the rest of the crew had open space to sit and eat with each other. For the most part, his section was largely ignored, knowing full-well whom it was specifically designed for. Mike placed his loaded tray of food down carefully, as the white table was barely able to fit both, his and Paul¡¯s. Mike was a friend, the only one of the flight crew that actually dared to speak to him (or sit with, for that matter), and not treat the man like the plague. They calmly sat across one another, toying with their meals as the tried to determine if it was at all worth eating. ¡°No, seriously,¡± Mike gestured with is fork. ¡°Did you even sleep a wink this time?¡± ¡°Not as much as I would have liked.¡± Paul shrugged. He kept his gazed down to the tray, still moving the questionable pale looking bits of meat about, while glumly resting his right elbow on the table with his fist supporting his cheek. ¡°It¡¯s not easy for a guy like me, but, I don¡¯t want to bore you with my lowly Mindskipper, gripes. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard me bitch on and on about it repeatedly before...¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Mike nodded, taking the risk of eating the bit he managed to scoop up from the tray. ¡°I won¡¯t lie, it¡¯s a daily song that you keep singing about. But,¡± He paused for a second, realizing the taste wasn¡¯t as bad as he thought, and continued on. ¡°Mm, getting better¡­ sorry, what I was going to say was, I don¡¯t mind you venting to me about it, heck, that¡¯s what friends are for. Besides, ya can¡¯t always keep that bottled up. Trust me, I¡¯ve got loads of bitching to do in the coming months.¡± Paul took the time to eat some of the food as his friend rambled on. ¡°The captain, if you can call him that,¡± Mike snickered. ¡°Is asking for volunteers to do other non-bridge assignments. Since we¡¯re not as necessary in piloting the ship, he wants us to start some custodial work and make the place look polished for any sudden visitors. Shit man, can you believe it? Me? Swabbin¡¯ the deck? That¡¯s not the job I signed up for. And what about the poor custodial robots, huh?¡± He motioned to the small floor sweeping-bot casually floating by, the curtain of air below pushing the bits of dust and debris in front as it tended to the smooth white metallic floor. ¡°You think they want some worthless human stealing their workload? Pfft! Please! I¡¯n not about to yank that pleasure from the likes of them.¡± Paul said nothing and continued to casually eat his food. Mike was right, it was getting better, you could actually taste the chicken flavour this time. He wanted to tell him, but Mike was still too busy yammering on about the unfairness of the upperclass management, instead he just continued nod as if he was listening, and strayed into his own internal thoughts. ¡°I wonder if being out this far into space has somehow augmented my range. I¡¯ve never heard it happening to any other before¡­ especially with such tactile clarity. I mean, fuck, that was real water on my skin¡­¡± Mike tapped on Paul¡¯s head, breaking the man¡¯s concentration. ¡°Hello? Mister Mindskipper, you hearing me okay?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh, sorry, Mike¡­ what were you saying?¡± Mike let out a quick exhale and folded his hands together, resting his chin on them. ¡°Oh, nothing, just venting my problems to you, but, since you¡¯re so riveted by it, why not just give me more of yours. What¡¯s up? Something on your mind?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the problem,¡± Paul snickered. ¡°There¡¯s nothing but the mind to worry about¡­¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that lame crap, Paul. Something¡¯s bothering you¡ªcome on, man, give already¡­¡± Paul eyed him carefully, trying his best not to read his friend¡¯s mind in doing so. Last time that happened, he had a mental image of a woman in various sexual positions, and that of the other man they had join in. Mike was very good looking, a perfect mix of charm, personality and genes. He liked informing his dates about the benefits of being of mixed descent; One quarter black, two-thirds asian, and just a hint of whiteness within. Yeah, he was a cad, a moocher, and the last person you¡¯d trust on a double date, seeing how they¡¯d probably ditch you for him in a heartbeat. But, he was loyal, when sober, anyway. Paul let out a frustrated sigh and confided in him. ¡°Remember I was telling you about those directed dreams of mine, you know,¡± Paul leaned in closer to whisper. ¡°About places I¡¯ve never been and how real they felt.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Uh-huh¡­¡± ¡°Well, I had another one, one this time, it was a little too real.¡± ¡°God, I envy you.¡± Mike smirked. ¡°I wish I could do that in a few certain quarters, if you know what I mean.¡± He waggled his brows. Paul ignored his comment and held out his arm one the table, exposing the bare skin underneath the sleeve. ¡°I was on the planet below, Mike. My arm felt wet¡­ no, not felt, it was wet, from the waterfall I was standing near. Do you get what I¡¯m saying?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure it was very detailed, but¡­¡± ¡°No, not detailed!¡± Paul stressed, shoving the arm out more. ¡°That was physical. I was really there, standing on grass, feeling the breeze on my face and¡­ and¡­ goddamned drops of water that were still there after I envisioned the place.¡± Mike gave a confused glare. He slowly started eating his food again as if to mull over the situation. Before he answered back, he took a long gulp from the cup of water on the tray, andplaced it back directly, as he nodded. ¡°Huh¡­¡± ¡°Huh, what?¡± Paul glared at him. ¡°Huh, as in, huh, that¡¯s odd,¡¯ ¡°That¡¯s all you¡¯ve got to say?¡± Paul gave wry stare and leaned back. ¡°I just told you I was physically standing on the planet¡ªwhile dreaming, no less.¡± ¡°Well, what am I supposed to say to something like that, Paul? You¡¯re a Mindskipper, I thought you guys had bizarre shit like this happen all the time. I mean, you literally use your minds to bend space and time¡­ or something to that effect, I guess. I¡¯m no psychoanalyst on the matter, hell, I¡¯m just a lowly ranking bridge officer that may, or may not, be having to dust the consoles on regular intervals.¡± Paul dismissed his attitude and looked away in anger. Mike tried to quell that action by stating the obvious. ¡°Look, this is something you should be discussing with Doctor Yumi, okay. I wish I could understand, but, quite frankly, I just can¡¯t. I¡¯m limited on what advice I could offer to you.¡± Paul scoffed at him, even as he continued to explain. ¡°I¡¯m just a common friend, a null-brain, as some of you Mindskippers call us. Why don¡¯t you tell her all this?¡± ¡°Because I know what she¡¯ll say¡­¡± ¡°Which is what¡ªexactly?¡± ¡°That I¡¯m slipping into madness.¡± Paul said, pounding his fist to the table, causing the trays to fall. ¡°That I¡¯m having some type of schism, or mental breakdown. She¡¯ll have me sent to the Correction Chamber on Earth and tinker with my brain.¡± ¡°Really? They do that sort of thing?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± He shouted back. ¡°They reach in with their advanced AI surgical robotic probes, cut into the lobe that looks damaged to them, and then rip it out, replace it with artificial tissue, and start retraining our minds from ground zero again. You got that? They fuck with our brains, Mike!¡± Mike gave a look of shock, he stood up slightly, peering over the wall, as others in the room turned to look. He quickly gave them all a wry smile and motioned to his friend, mouthing¡ªhe¡¯s having a bad day. ¡°I can hear that you know!¡± Paul stood up and started walking away in anger. Mike pursued after him. He managed to stop his friend before exiting the mess hall. ¡°Paul, wait¡­ I¡¯m sorry, man, okay? I¡¯ve never seen you so frazzled like this. What¡¯s really bugging you? It can¡¯t be just about you suddenly mentally projecting onto a planet.¡± He patted Paul¡¯s shoulder and tried to look him in the eye. ¡°You¡¯ve had realistic visions before, maybe not as detailed, but¡­ this one really has you spooked. So? What is it?¡± Paul couldn¡¯t look up. He still didn¡¯t want to create that connection, if they locked eyes, he¡¯d be sure to download all his friend¡¯s actual thoughts in an instant. It was a burden having such abilities. Which is why having friends wasn¡¯t really possible, for him, anyway. Paul acknowledged Mike¡¯s concern by gripping his hand, still lightly pressed on his shoulder. ¡°I can¡¯t explain it, not in terms you¡¯d understand. I¡¯m sorry.¡± He gently moved Mike¡¯s hand away and exhaled. ¡°It¡¯s just, Mindskipper stuff, ya know? But, thanks anyway,¡± He paused for a second and let go of his friend¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯ll talk with you again later.¡± Paul stepped around his friend and briskly darted down the corridor as he left the mess hall. Mike stood helplessly as he watched on with a concerned glare. He briefly glanced at his hand, then back at Paul as he fled beyond his sight. ¡°Yeah, sure¡­¡± He finally stated, as if Paul was still within earshot. ¡°You know where to find me, buddy.¡± * * * It was a shit thing to do to a friend, Paul was regretting the action, even as he fled in a panic. But, how could he even begin to describe the whole scenario to a non-Mindskipper? It¡¯s just a feeling, a powerful one, well more than any norm like his friend could fathom. To see, touch, and feel being on a planet you just arrived to, knowing you¡¯re still on board a starship¡ªand then, the presence of a voice from out of nowhere? Maybe Mike was correct, maybe he should be explaining this to Yumi. He had to concede that it could very well be stress from the mission. Other Mindsweepers succumbed to it, eventually, just as he explained to Mike, and lobotomization was always the end result. ¡°No, not me, never¡­¡± He vowed. ¡°I¡¯ll never end up as one of them.¡± He glanced up for a second, and decided to head for Doctor Yumi¡¯s office. It was in this moment that he took notice that he¡¯d mistakingly chose the wrong corridor. Instead of by-passing the crew, he was in the thick of them. It was too late to try to find the next available exit to the shielded parallel corridor, he would have to press on, and to try his best to avoid the other crewmen and personnel. Not an easy thing to do in this narrow space. He would have to avoid making contact with them, by not looking directly into their eyes and keeping his head down. He had to focus his thoughts. Concentration was key to keeping from hearing them all. He¡¯d become so sensitive from jumping through space, using his mental energy, that it augmented his range and gave him unusual heightened telepathy. An odd side effect that few Mindskippers cared to share with any one other than their own. It could last for hours, days, sometimes weeks at a time. The bigger the jump, with deep mental projections they pushed themselves into, the longer-lasting these heightened abilities could last. Doctor Yumi might be the only one who could possibly help him. After all, she is the medical professional, a qualified specialist in field of psychology, and someone with a sympathetic ear. Sure, they¡¯ve had previous history together, in a way. There was always a bit of flirtation going on, but nothing more than that. But, could he really trust her? Especially about something as major as this? She could very well report him. He¡¯d have to take that risk.