Beyond the pool

In a moment it was all over. Hundreds of life times seemed to have flashed before my eyes, though the time lapse recording read eighty nine seconds. The view of the warm but unwelcoming lights returning to my eyes, I sat up and observed my surroundings. Results monitors flashed with spikes of the activity in the system showing a four percent increase in brainwave activity from the last session. This was good news to say the least. The whole pool bay was performing better than it had in the last three sectional reports. This, coupled with the fact our bay had the fewest instances of individuals deep diving, (entering areas of the mind beyond where anyone could locate them) boded quite well for the upcoming report.

Even with all this in mind, I still couldn’t help but focus on more distracting matters. It had been almost forty seven hours since her last comprehensible signal had been received, and yet no word on any sort of improvement. The looming sense of dread growing, every hope for her return seemed to weaken by the second. Emile had always shown such great promise in her ability to navigate the fields of consciousness, forming pathways and connecting experiences not unlike some of the modern mental heroes of the pre Neo-cognition era.

It made no sense. All numbers of inexperienced divers get lost within the depths, but Emile had years of experience within her. Something had to have gone wrong. Never before had she even come close to losing her way back, what changed? How could anyone venture so deeply within themselves without caution being raised by the staff? My concerns were cut short by a beckoning to eat. Not to be one to go against a proper routine, I set out toward the nutrition bay.

As I walked, I couldn’t help but feel that something was not right, but this was quickly set aside when I spotted a couple of colleagues, fellow divers from my bay, whom I caught up with and accompanied to go eat. At least the light conversation of all the dazzling and wonderful experiences they had in the last session aided in keeping my thoughts off of Emile.

Near the end of the meal, as we were cleaning up and preparing to head out, the broadcast system came alive to proclaim announcements. Mostly common, mundane information we’d been hearing for some weeks now: *IF YOU ENTERED ANY UNPLEASANT EXPERIENCES REMEMBER TO REPORT TO DESIGNATED SICK BAY FOR TREATMENT, POOL BAY 4 IS CONTINUING TO EXPERIENCE MAINTENANCE AND WILL THEREFORE BE UNAVAILABLE,* etc, etc. I cared not for these trivial pieces of information that had no relation to me. I waited, and then I heard it. *48 HOUR DEEP DIVE LOCATION UPDATE, ARRON HEM, POOL BAY 9: RECOVERED, CASPUS CARTIER, POOL BAY 2: RECOVERED, CARI LYND, POOL BAY 18: RECOVERED, EMILE GRAE, POOL BAY 11: ONGOING.*

The words tore through me like a knife. I felt helpless, uneasy. Almost unable to hold myself up by my own strength. Seventy two hours after a deep dive is initiated, the reconnaissance team is ordered to file the divers as lost and move on to the next rescue, and it is well known that less than five percent of any divers missing after forty eight are ever recovered. There had to be something I could do before the case was put on the back burner and I lost my friend forever. Exhausted from the day’s sessions, some sleep was required if there were to be ANY hopes of finding her.

The next day revealed itself in a soft manner, silently approaching without hints of movement, nor any other signs of life. There was a general uneasiness, something I was familiar with only through my experiences in the virtually generated isolation environments divers were subject to in order to further strengthen their sense of self. Something was definitely off. I exited the sleeping bay and stepped out into the hallway, and to my surprise, a space normally bustling about, teaming with researchers heading to meetings, divers chit chatting between sessions, seemed all but abandoned. What happened? Where did everyone go?

I headed out toward the deep dive bay, the only place I had any chance of locating Emile. There, I would hopefully learn why such an experienced diver had been not only lost, but also come up as an ongoing case during the forty eight hour report, although it would be tough if there was noone there to question. Where have they all gone?

Soon I made it to a door labeled DEEP BAY RECONNAISSANCE. I held my breath as I entered, not knowing exactly what there was to greet me on the other side. The room appeared void of any beings at first, housing the standard diving pools as well as three pools that looked twice the size of any normal pool.

Upon observing the entire space, to my surprise, there was another individual in the room. IT WAS EMILE. How was she awake? “Emile!” I shouted, tears welling up in my eyes as I rushed to embrace her. “You made me so worried! How did you..” But before I could finish, without even looking down at me wrapped around her waist, Emile pushed a small golden locket into my hand and whispered “Don’t forget what’s real”. She proceeded toward one of the larger diving pools, and began to enter. She then looked back at me, and with a look of immense gratitude and sadness, said “Form a view for yourself, or else you will never be truly free.” With that, she disappeared into the pool, her essence dissolving into the liquid only two feet deep, shimmering radiantly throughout the room more magnificent than the grandest light show I had ever witnessed. In an instant the world around me came alive once again. Individuals who had not previously been there, now hard at work charting out data points and mapping coordinates. All this seemed to take a backseat to the item I now held in my hand, This heart shaped locket drawing my attention, pulling me further and deeper into its gaze.