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Journey to the Center of the Galaxy

Part One

By Po IveyPublished 2 years ago Updated 5 months ago 22 min read
1
Journey to the Center of the Galaxy
Photo by Graham Holtshausen on Unsplash

Sillan Octavion switched on the video screen of his newly improved Alentian space ship. He turned on the display, but kept his end unconnected. He let it ring twenty seven times before answering it. He already knew who was calling him.

"Sillan!" Said an enthusiastic man in a plain brown, tweed suit.

"Yes?" Sillan replied.

"We've got the best job ever for you!"

"No you don't..."

"We want you to go to Old Casadasius!"

"Goodbye."

Jenen Trius would call back; it was inevitable. Sillan let it ring fourteen times this time. He turned on the video display again.

"I don't need your money."

"Yes you do. Everyone knows that."

"I'm not going to Earth."

"I don't know why you insist on using the local names of Federation planets. Especially one that hasn't evolved past stage zero of development."

"I'm actually doing quite well financially, thank you for asking. You couldn't pay me enough to go to a backwater planet. I've fallen for that three times now. I don't know why I let myself get manipulated; especially by a man who dresses in a fashion that's been out of date for a thousand years."

"It's still quite popular in the Manufactured Solar System regions," Jenen replied, sounding more polite than he actually was.

"That's just a big tourist trap."

"That's it then? You're not floating around in interstellar space, in a souped up Alentian cruiser...pretending you have more fuel than you do? I bet you can make two more worm hole jumps at best."

"I'm utilizing Bolan-crec technology."

"Of course you are. Very funny."

"Look Jenen. I don't need t--

"I'm sending the entire information packet now! It's forty seven pages. We all know how much you love to read the mission packets. This is class AAA security, so you know what to do. Unless you want to get exported to the outer colonies...which you don't. Don't think being Lunerian makes you exempt from consequences. It's crazy how aggressive the Federation is being now. I guess it's another sign of the times."

“And,” Jenen continued. “It's your duty as a Lunerian to comply with the needs of The Federation.”

Sillan didn't say anything in response. Jenen had him by the balls again. The idea of a human being, being able to manipulate a Lunerian, never ceased to haunt and confound him.

"Perfect!" Jenen said. "I assume you are making this your next jump then. You should be able to get to Old Casadasius in one jump if you're smart; and we all know how smart you are. Have a great week!"

Sillan, although terribly annoyed, took a moment to appreciate the haunting and eternal beauty of interstellar space.

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"Somebody took a s@#$ in the sink again!" Kevin's boss Jarrard yelled as Kevin walked into McGuiles Tavern.

"Why would someone do that?! What would they get out of it?!" Kevin yelled back.

Kevin set his leather jacket down on the bar, made sure his cigarettes were still intact and then clapped his hands together (somewhat sarcastically), indicating he was ready to work.

"What's the thrill of taking a s#$% in a sink?!" Kevin asked.

"You're thinking the wrong way. It's just a degenerate person," Jarrard said. "Stop reading into things and clean the sink. I don't pay you to philosophize."

Kevin walked away from the main bar and into the bathroom in the back. McGuiles had tripled it's floor space in the last week. It had been your typical dive bar previously (and had been so for thirty-three years). The bar was huge and was built in an old warehouse. Kevin liked the industrial and dusty feel of the bar. You could know every patron by name, which Kevin did. Due to financial gains, and in an effort to compete, they had added a huge dance floor and stage. Jarrard had hoped to attract the massive college crowds that roamed Madison Street on the weekend nights. This had also vastly expanded the range of things that could happen at McGuiles. Which led to the defecation in the sink for the third time.

It was already shaping up to be an unusual and challenging week for Kevin. His roommates drug problems and overdue rent notices were starting to feel like only the tip of the iceberg. Kevin gritted his teeth and covered his face with an old Ronnie James Dio shirt he found in the back. It took a good forty minutes to take care of the terrible task. He went to find Jarrard. to tell him the job was done, but he was nowhere to be seen. Although he was in the middle of the totem pull (in terms of employee standing) Kevin already felt like he was becoming the "shadow manager" (as he called it in his head) of the bar.

He looked around for Darren (Jarrard's nephew who also worked there). He must have decided to not show up to work again. It would be another two hours until the bar crowd emerged; which would give Kevin just enough time to finish all of his and Darren's duties.

"Piece of s!#$," Kevin said to himself, as he kicked the old 1980's jukebox in an attempt to get it to turn on. This method had worked countless times, and always led Kevin to wonder what exactly was happening to the machine internally for it to work that way.

"How could kicking a machine make it function?" He wondered.

"Maybe there is one single loose wire that connects when you shake the thing?"

He did one final clean of the basement (which was the last duty he always performed). He checked his appearance in the newly clean mirror as he always did. His black hair was getting long, and starting to become curly. He liked to keep it that way. His girlfriend Amanda (in college) always said he looked "super hot" that way. He had recently lost some weight (partially due to the lack of food at his house) and was feeling more handsome.

"I guess there are two sides to every coin?" He pondered, as he looked back at himself.

He had a very strange and unusual moment as he continued to look into the mirror. It was very brief; but the puzzling sensation would stay with him for the rest of the night. He saw his own face sort of look back at him. Like he was two separate people, but both were him. The one that was new seemed to be what he could only conceptualize as "more real." It was like he momentarily penetrated a different dimension. There was a feeling of what he could only describe as "radiation." He suddenly felt like he was going to be lifted off the bathroom floor and up through the ceiling.

"What...the hell...was that?!" He thought.

He started to worry that one of his roommate Jack's delusions were starting to take hold of him too.

"Fair enough....," Kevin thought, as he walked out of the bathroom and out of McGuiles. "I hope I'm not going insane."

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Back at Kevin's house:

It was a year to the day that Kevin had moved in (with a friend of a friend) on North Cedar Street. North Cedar Street was highly inferior to South Cedar Street (in Kevin's opinion). South Cedar Street contained a steady line of four-bedroom houses, which got nicer the further south you went. All of South Cedar street was populated by--ironically--beautiful willow trees. The entire four blocks was owned by upper middle class families and a handful of affluent people in the nicest houses. North Cedar street was a place of crime, poverty and action. The interstate highway (that split the two sides of Cedar Street) was a dividing line between "heaven and hell," in Kevin's opinion.

Kevin had moved to 1234 Cedar Street based on having no options. He had lost his previous job due to the Covid-19 pandemic, and was on his way to losing his apartment as well. In a rushed and uninspired move, he ended up moving in and sharing rent with his friend Devin's college buddy, Jack. Devin had explained Jack as "super cool" and "down to earth." With no choice, and the pressure of not being able to afford his current rent, Kevin moved into 1234 Cedar Street, without first meeting Jack or anyone else who lived there. He would quickly find out Jack was a drug dealer and completely crazy (although he had some redeeming qualities).

They had two other roommates (officially), named Pamela and Dustin. Pamela and Dustin had been dating each other since they were in middle school and were also addicted to heroin. There was also a steady stream of all manner of people visiting and crashing at the house. Kevin had given up on remembering anyone's name. He did however enjoy the company of Lyle, who was Jack's second cousin, and a great heavy metal guitarist.

Kevin walked into the house from the giant hole on the first floor. As far as Kevin knew, there must have been some sort of renovation (in the previous year) that had stopped midway through. The giant hole was about eight feet high and six feet wide. There was still a thick plastic tarp (that had been protecting the hole form the elements) from the possible renovation, but it seemed to be degrading at a rapid rate. It wouldn't be long before they had a giant, unprotected hole in the side of their North Cedar Street home.

"I've returned from work!" Kevin announced to Jack as he entered the house.

Jack was sitting on the damaged, fur lined red couch, with his feet up in the air. He was texting rapidly on his phone, most likely arranging a drug deal.

"I've returned Jack!" Kevin said again. "I went through the hole."

Jack made a sort of passive growling sound of acknowledgment without looking at Kevin. Kevin hung his leather jacket on one of the five coat hangers in the living room. He looked across to see Pamela and Dustin embracing each other on the other damaged couch. They were both suffering from cold-sweats.

"Are they okay?" Kevin asked.

"Nrghh...uhh," Jack said, still staring directly at his phone.

Every time Jack did this, Kevin felt like he was watching the glow of Jack's phone slowly swallow his soul.

"You are a man of eloquence Jack."

Amusing himself was exactly how Kevin dealt with his living situation. He had been saving up to move out; but the pay raise he had been counting on had been deferred to finance McGuile's new dance floor.

He walked up to the second floor (where his room was located) and passed by someone he was pretty sure was named "Riff." Kevin attempted to greet Riff with a fist bump, but Riff just stared at him for an unusually long time, and then gave him a weird smile with very brown teeth. Then he hugged Kevin in a manner that was hard to classify. He whispered into Kevin's ear and said "I love you brother," before he walked down the stairs with a swift sprint.

Kevin unlocked the padlock and the built in lock to his bedroom door. Kevin's bedroom was his sanctuary. Due to the limited amount of space, he was constantly rearranging his bed and his furniture. He had tried what seemed like countless configurations of his bed, desk, filling cabinet, Persian rug, lava lamp, dresser, mini fridge and bass guitar to create the maximum amount of room to move. He often felt it was a losing battle, and possibly he was just trying to distract himself. He was certain he had found the perfect configuration a month ago, but had forgotten what it was after a night of heavy drinking. He had been trying to re-create the configuration ever since. He knew it had something to do with his Persian rug being diagonal, but that was the only memory he could dredge up.

Kevin went through his mini-fridge, to find the other half of a sandwich from Jefferson's Sandwich Centre, when he suddenly had that strange sensation from McGuiles bathroom again. It was more intense this time. His hair began to stand on it's ends. He felt like he was about to be blasted straight through the ceiling. The experience was as brief as it was vivid.

"Okay...," he thought, feeling shocked.

The first explanation that popped into his mind, was that Jack had somehow drugged him; or that the combination of all the residents of the house being on drugs, had somehow made him on drugs. It wasn't a logical explanation, but the intensity of the moment prompted an immediate response. He thought about going around the house and asking everyone if the same thing had happened to them; but something told him he should keep it to himself.

Kevin sat on his bed, eating the rest of the "Tuna Touchdown" sandwich from Jefferson's. It still tasted relatively good, despite being two days old. He waited for "the experience" (as he now called it) to happen again, so he could quickly reach a conclusion on what, in the entire universe, it could possibly be. The woman who lived in the next room, currently (the occupant changed a lot) was having another loud conversation with whatever person she had invited in from the street. Kevin would usually just hear the louder parts of these conversations; which would often be laced with fascinating ideas and concepts.

"The Anunnaki and the Bolan-Crec are the same thing!" The next door woman's friend insisted.

"No way man," said the woman. "It's--

There was a break mid sentence, most likely from a bong being hit.

"The Anunnaki have come to the Earth seven times," said the woman. "They visited Earth in a civilization before ours. Before the time of Noah and his ark. The Sumerians thought the Anunnaki were the deities that ruled them. But they actually came from the Andromeda Galaxy. The called the Earth "Casadasius" because they had a greater map of our solar system and galaxy."

"That's because they used the Bolan-Crec intergalactic star map and worm hole system," the man insisted. "The Bolan-Crec could travel to any galaxy."

"You just said they were the same thing?" The woman argued. "Were they the same thing, or did they use the same technology?"

"What could these people possibly be talking about?" Kevin thought, setting the last bite of his sandwich down.

There was a long pause and then the sound of an exceptionally loud bong hit.

"I've never even heard of the Bolan-Creek, or whatever," said the next door woman. "And intergalactic travel is impossible. It takes tens of thousands of years to go form one galaxy to the next, even at the speed of light."

"That's why they use wormholes, the Bolan-Crec have a map of the entire universe. I looked it up on Wikipedia."

The conversation stopped after that. There was a long silence, another bong hit and then Kevin heard the beginning of (what was probably) sexual intercourse. This seemed to happen a lot, no matter who was in the room. It was like the room only existed for that. Kevin didn't really want to sit in his own room, lonely, and have to listen to the whole affair. So he went back through the giant hole in the house and outside.

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It was the next night, and Jarrard's plan to turn McGuile's into a thriving dance floor was having good results. Kevin found the combination of McGuile's typical residents, and the new college students coming for the dance floor, to be hilarious. McGuile's usual patrons were men in their fifties, bikers and anybody else attracted to a dive bar. There was an obvious dividing line between the people who thought the bar belonged to them, and the college boys and girls doing their mating dances.

Kevin's attention had become completely devoted to figuring out what had happened to him, at work the night before, and in his bedroom. He had spent the rest of the previous night Googling scientific research on radiation, quantum mechanics, "pseudoscience," and anything else that seemed like a plausible explanation. The research seemed promising at first, but after a half hour, Kevin hit a dead end. He ended up just watching videos about the Anunnaki on Gaia for two hours without enjoying them. When he got home that night, he tried to re-create the scenario, by purchasing another Tuna Touchdown sandwich. He sat there with the tuna sandwich on his lap, trying to use it as a mystical lightning rod. It didn't have the desired affect.

"Should I eat half of it first?" He wondered.

"This is such a stupid plan...I'm sitting here with a tuna sandwich in my lap, waiting...for what exactly...?"

"Maybe I shouldn't be messing with whatever the hell this is?"

"Maybe it's dangerous?"

"Well...only one way to find out..."

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Jack hanging out with his friends had evolved into a full on house party, as it usually did on the weekends. It had started out with three people in it at five o'clock, seven by eight o'clock, and about eleven by nine o'clock. Kevin lost count by ten o'clock. By ten-thirty, four kegs had made their way into their dilapidated house. At that point, the entire house was overflowing with people. Kevin gave up his empirical research on re-creating the profound/mystical experience and decided to join the party.

Many of the faces crowding Jack's house looked familiar; but he couldn't remember anyone's name. Besides Jack, Pamela and Dustin, he wasn't sure who his roommates were exactly. He did recognize a very pretty woman, who he had seen at the house three weekends in a row now. Her name was Courtney, or possibly Beth. It definitely wasn't Amber. Kevin was able to summon up a drunken memory of her telling him about her career as a pole dancer, or glass blower, or possibly an Uber driver. He tried to talk to her, but he always seemed to get subverted by one fool or another, trying to steal her attention. Kevin often felt he could see peoples motivations more clearly than others. It tortured him.

Kevin's scientific/spiritual research was completely forgotten by his fourth beer. The house had become so packed that people had to squeeze through each other. Kevin was making his way to the bathroom (if you could call it that) when he caught sight of two incredibly out of place party goers. They looked so unusual that Kevin had to stop in place and give them three separate glances.

It would have taken a lot for someone to look "out of place" at Jack's house; but there was something extremely unusual about these two individuals. One was male and the other was female. The man was dressed like he was into yoga and spirituality and the woman was dressed in a trench coat. What was strange, what that, they were so dedicated to their appearances, Kevin couldn't help but think they were wearing some sort of disguise, and completely overplaying their hands. Everything they did looked like a caricature of Jack and Kevin's age group and demographic.

Kevin began to follow them around the party. He felt crazy; but something inside kept beckoning him to continue. He noticed the closer he got to them, the more he could sense the kind of radiation he experienced at work and in his bedroom.

"What in the name of god is this?" He worried.

The psychological pressure of what was happening; plus the intense desire to tell someone else about it; mixed with the certainty that people would say he was going crazy, was beginning to reach the extreme point. Kevin concluded he had no choice but to move forward. A year ago, he would have never dared to do something like this. The squalor at Jack's house was starting to give him a strange sense of freedom.

"Gotta' die someday...," he thought.

He began asking around (to everyone) if they knew who the two people were. Every response was either vague, uninterested or just weird.

"I don't know fam," said Lyle, holding his electric guitar. "Maybe they came in with the festival crowd."

"I think that's Deborah and Terry," said Jack's ex girlfriends co-worker. "No wait...they died. My bad."

"Who are you to judge?!" Said a woman he had never met before.

Kevin continued to stalk the two mysterious individuals around the house as he drank. The radiation sensation was only getting stronger. It was obvious they knew he was following them. He was eventually able to track them into one of the small rooms on the first floor, where people were sharing psychedelic drugs. To his amazement, when he entered the room, the two people weren't there at all.

Kevin scanned around the room, mystified and amazed.

"Is there any other way out of this room!" Kevin asked urgently to the five occupants.

A man wearing a rug with a hole in it, and a top hat, looked up at Kevin with dilated eyes and said nothing.

"Chill out dude," said a woman wearing a bikini.

"There this...," said another man, holding a pile of psychedelic mushrooms in his outstretched hand.

"No, dude, what? Close the door!" Said a man who was wearing a plaid sweatshirt and slippers. "Close the door or get the #$%^ out of here."

Kevin flipped the man off, closed the door and then left.

"What the hell is this?!"

He turned around to notice a very beautiful woman leaning against a wall behind him. She was definitely not there before.

"Have...you been here the whole time?" Kevin asked.

Kevin almost spilled the full beer in his hand, which he had forgotten he was holding.

The woman rolled her eyes at his question. She was wearing a sun dress and a pair of aviator glasses. She was so beautiful Kevin could only stare at her. He was starting to wonder why his dream girl had appeared out of nowhere.

"Are you one of Jacks friends?" He asked.

She looked like she was thinking about something deeply then talked.

"No...," she said. "I'm new."

Kevin was trying to think of something engaging and exciting to say. She cut him off before he could talk.

"Kevin," she said. "Trust your instincts. Limits are in your mind."

“Do I know you from something?” Kevin asked.

She rolled her eyes again.

"You might," she said.

Kevin was about to inquire further; but suddenly he heard the voices of the two disguised people, coming up the damaged, carpeted stairs from the basement to the hallway. He turned around to the woman in the aviator sunglasses.

"Sorry!" She said, also aware of the people coming up the stairs. "I'm not qualified for the rest of this!"

She ran down the hall the opposite direction. There were only two rooms on the other end of the hall; and no way she could leave the house, unless she jumped out of a window. Which was unlikely, as the windows only opened a foot high.

"Qualified for this?" Kevin asked out loud. "What the hell does that mean?!!"

It was too late. She was gone in one of the prettiest and most elegant sprints Kevin had ever seen. Kevin turned back the other way. The two mysterious individuals were standing right in front of him. They both started at him with blank eyes.

"Are you guys...friends of Jacks?" He asked nervously.

They both looked at each other for a long time. It wasn't the normal eye contact people use, but some foreign form of communication.

"Are you guys with Gaia?" Kevin joked.

Amusing himself had always been one of Kevin's strong suits.

They both blinked at him in a very strange and hostile manner.

"We have come to process you, Casadasian resident," the female explained. "Please submit to the full process; or we will use advanced force. Your memory will be redacted after this exchange.

"You must be Jack's old co-workers from Fuddruckers!"

"We have no interest in Casadasian formalities," said the male. "You have been warranted for information extraction and consciousness resetting. We will now extract the necessary data from your body."

"I don't know what the hell that means, but I am not into it," Kevin suggested, feeling an intense wave of adrenaline. "Maybe try the people in the next room."

They both gave each other a creepy glance again. The female started reaching for something in the pocket of the trench coat she was wearing.

"We have full authorization from the special branch of the Federation Safety Initiative Board to use advanced force," said the male. "Please do not resist."

The female found what she was reaching for. It was a device Kevin had never seen before; and he barely had a frame of reference to describe what it was. It appeared to be some form of compact technology, like an old Apple iPod, except it had a biological existence as well. That description would still just scratched the surface of what it was. Kevin's fight or flight instincts went into full-effect. He watched as the female slowly lifted the device in front of his own face. She seemed to be physically interacting with the biological aspect of the technology. The device began to emit a pale indigo glow. Both of the beings faces began to shine harshly as a reaction. Kevin could see through their skin, and they appeared to have reptilian like bodies. Their skin wasn't set in place. It slowly shifted in many layers, in a way that reminded him of a lava lamp.

"Initiate the process," the male said coldly.

"Somebody help!!!" Kevin yelled.

He dramatically threw out his fist to punch the male in the face. Before his blow could connect; there was a deafening and total flash that encompassed the entire hallway.

As Kevin lost consciousness he heard the male talk.

"Your consciousness has been reset, have a great week."

After that, there was only silence.

Mystery
1

About the Creator

Po Ivey

Po Ivey lives in Madison, WI, where he writes fiction in his free time. His inspiration includes Kurt Vonnegut, Philip K. Dick and William Gibson. He write's about the nuances that make the whole world a cast of actors. He also plays music.

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  • Tru Askew11 months ago

    Well if that was a challenge telling the future of Maguiles , I liked that part remembered people and consciousness, kind of builds into doing the re set. U have sentient creatures well.

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