The tower itself is obviously a mechanical construction, like a giant radio tower, except so much more. The question is whether it’s just sending signals, or if it’s also receiving them.”
Clifford Ashton was reclined on one of the slender examination beds of the medical bay, his back raised so that he could comfortably read from the screen of the boxy information retrieval unit on his lap. Scattered around his legs were a small library of multicolored memory tapes. The greenish glow from the unit’s illuminated viewing screen cast weird shadows on his pale skin. Lamont could see black text scrolling past in a patch of emerald reflected in Ashton’s glasses. The newspaperman had to quietly clear his throat before Clifford noticed him.
“Mr. Townsend!” The engineer exclaimed, fumbling to avoid scattering tapes on the floor as he hastily set the unit aside. “I’ve been hoping to see you.”
“Have you?” Lamont asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
“I—” Clifford stammered awkwardly. “I owe you an apology. The way I acted when you took me back from the tower… Well, it must have looked like I’d gone crazy.”
“It looked a little like that,” Lamont admitted carefully.
Clifford swung his gangly legs over the side of the bed and put his hands in his lap, his features contorting in a conflicted expression. “I suppose I did, in a way. That tower was trying to communicate with me, but the experience was so weird and overwhelming that I just didn’t know how to process it.” He made a vague gesture with his fingers before clasping them together again on his lap. “It all came out in disconnected pictures and phrases from things I’d…”
He paused, looking up at Lamont thoughtfully. “I think that it was using things from my memory to try to tell me something. Things I’d recognize so that it didn’t seem so strange.”
“It,” Lamont repeated, leaning against the next bed over. “Not her?”
The mousy engineer gave an embarrassed chuckle and wrung his hands. “Well, I don’t know. The tower itself is obviously a mechanical construction, like a giant radio tower, except so much more. The question is whether it’s just sending signals, or if it’s also receiving them.”
“So what happened?” Lamont asked. “Where did you go after we first arrived at the garden?”
“Nowhere in particular,” Ashton shrugged. “I just wandered a little way from the central column and came upon a sort of canopy or covered area…”
“Like a grove?” The newspaperman suggested.
Clifford nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, something like an artificial grove! There was an object of some kind in the center, like a sculpture or a statue. I went to take a closer look, and suddenly I was having all kinds of wild visions, like I’d taken a drug or something. Have you been there too?”
Lamont nodded. “The statue of the woman,” he said. “I fell into a kind of trance too.”
Clifford snapped his fingers. “A woman! When I remember the shape of the sculpture, it’s effectively abstract, at least by human standards. But I thought the same thing. I interpreted it as a woman.”
“What happened next?” Lamont prodded.
“That’s the funny part,” Clifford said, shaking his head. “The experience was intense, but it didn’t feel very long. I left the grove feeling a little strange and went to look for the rest of you, to tell you about it, but you were gone. The place was deserted.”
Again, thanks for returning to this project. I enjoy each installment, and feel just a bit uncomfortable in hoping for more... knowing we have no entitlement to it or your time, and knowing it can be a burden to feel you should perform when you really don't feel it.
A few notes;
While I appreciate getting your updates in email, that avenue has significantly reduced my interaction here on the comments. I bet others would say the same. This may make it appear we are less interested than we are, or have been in the past. Don't let that discourage you... consider including "comments from yesterday" or something inside the email of the current dispatch. It will encourage participation to see participation.
From my own experience in publishing, and witnessing you for years now, I fear the pressure to release 5 editions a week will again wear on you sooner or later. I note that today's issue came mid-day instead of last night... a hint that you are otherwise occupied and missed your self-selected schedule. To me, three a week would keep me as interested as ever, and give you opportunity to build as large a bank as you like to hold us, uninterrupted, for weeks at a time when you are otherwise unavailable. And consistent release is more important than quantity to keep interest of your readers.
Lastly, a rumination on story structure... In episodic TV series, when long-arc story lines go season long or cross years, interest can wane for those who may enjoy the genre and characters, but can't invest in never missing a show. Worse, if the series is cancelled or goes on significant hiatus with many unresolved plot lines, everyone feels frustration. Writers reduce this potential for disconnection or disappointment by including successive short-run storylines that resolve with a single or few episodes. These side-stories are often upbeat with short term encouraging conclusions that offset the heavy long-arc that may be increasingly ominous or unrelentingly dour without the relief, as well as providing opportunity for snippets of alternate perspectives on the central arc. Babylon 5 and soul-mate Deep Space 9 managed this balance with great effect. I'm suggesting you consider including more periodic closure on some small events to keep the feeling of accomplishment and progress and show more aspects of various characters, and possibly overlapping arcs that can give more frequent satisfaction amid the long term suspense.
Hoping your times are good and your spirits high. And thank you for sharing your visions. They remain remarkable, I read them all and I'll only stop if you do.