Saturday, November 22, 2014
Saturday, November 1, 2014
Transcriptions: Part 1
Below is a transcription of a small
handwritten account of what has been happening to me, dated as best I
could.
TD: 3:78:3729
It has been two days since they let me
out of that tiny room. They took away Ruya's computer, finally and
yesterday they did not let me out to visit her. Today, though, I woke
up in my new room (which has a whole wall that is literally barred
like a prison cell) to someone sliding in a tray of food. It was
someone new, a woman I would gauge to be in her thirties. She was as
formally dressed as anyone else I've seen in the building.
I wasn't able to get a word out of her but I ate breakfast either way.
Turns out that the meal was not without a catch.
I wasn't able to get a word out of her but I ate breakfast either way.
Turns out that the meal was not without a catch.
Whatever they put in it knocked me out
after, I assume five or six minutes and I woke up (with no idea of
how much time had passed) in the passenger seat of a van outside of
the hospital. Ruya's condition was mostly unchanged according to the
nurses but somehow as I sat there I got the really bad feeling she
was slipping farther away.
The suits gave me several good hours
with her and then sent someone in to escort me out. I made the trip
back to this place blindfolded, they offered me dinner and then sent
me back to this cell.
Not a single person answered a single
question I asked and I have so many.
After I scarfed down the meal they
handed me what appears to be an atlas of the continent I live on and
told me to start familiarizing myself with it, local areas first and
then spread out.
I still have no idea where to start, I
have no clue how far I am from Ruya's or what “local” even is.
But maybe if I do what they say they'll
help me. I don't know, that feels too hopeful
TD: 3:80:3729
I've been staring at the map and made
very little progress. I know the names of several cities around
Ruya's, the name of the state (province?) that they are in and get a
general feel for the landscape around there. The continent we're on
has six countries (discounting a small colony on the west coast) all
of which are divided into several provinces, though. I'm assuming
that I'm anywhere near her but I could be hours away. I had to double
check whether it had been a rotation or two since the last thing I
scribbled on this pad.
They're promising me that I can see
Ruya tomorrow. I might even be allowed to go by the house and pick up
my own clothing instead of this suit. I meant it literally when I
said they wanted me to suit up. They told me my studies are going to
have to “accelerate.”
TD: 3:81:3729
Getting fairly late now I think, but
the long and short of it is that I did manage to get hold of my
clothing. The shirt, shoes and pants I arrived in are still holding
together mostly, and I'm wearing them now. Feels a little bit like
home but smells like Ruya's place. She is unchanged, though at this
point, you can really tell that her usual hair color is not her
natural, you can tell she has been fed nutrients through a tube and
you can tell she has not been moving around. You can see the damage
this has done to her.
It's damage that, as my captors remind me whenever possible, I caused.
It's damage that, as my captors remind me whenever possible, I caused.
They gave me a book to read. At least
it's in a language I can understand. It's a handbook, all about
procedures. I saw an acquaintance's basic training handbook after he
came back from bootcamp once. It reminds me of a mixture of that and
a rule book. I get this really bad feeling I'll be armed soon. Which
is really bad when you're at the mercy of some faceless and nameless
organization.
Guess it's not faceless after all,
actually.
I've got a face.
Fuck that word, “faceless.”
I've got a face.
Fuck that word, “faceless.”
And that monster. What do they have to
do with him?
Final thoughts on the book: Most of the
rules seem to be not to give out any information whatsoever. At all.
Not even the time of day if you can swing it.
----------
TD: 3:84:3729
They have had me isolated in that
fucking small room I was originally in for showing signs of mental
illness. They tell me it's normal in those who have traveled. I think
there is supposed to be a capital T in that. What they don't know and
won't until they confiscate and read this in a few hours is that it
might be a completely valid concern. Or maybe not. Two rotations ago,
on the 82nd I was being 'observed' while I 'studied.'
(That's a kind way to say that they had a guard posted outside of my
“Room” to make sure I didn't simply sleep the day away out of
petty revenge for not being allowed to go to the hospital.)
I experienced something I haven't
experienced in a long, long time and I forgot what it was like for it
to be disturbing or novel.
I lost the better part of a day... but
I gained something so much more rewarding.
I think it was a gift. That's insane,
but it is.
Sean, my brother, he's alive. He's not happy, he's not well but he's alive and with his friends. I saw all three of them together. They look like hell, they're running from something, but they're together. I could fucking weep.
I saw home and I saw the only relative I love.
Sean, my brother, he's alive. He's not happy, he's not well but he's alive and with his friends. I saw all three of them together. They look like hell, they're running from something, but they're together. I could fucking weep.
I saw home and I saw the only relative I love.
Fucking spooks can take this paper but
never take that away from me.
TD: 3:86:3729
They took the page but gave it back.
I'm sure they just think I'm going insane. Either way, I believe in
what I saw.
TD: 3:89:3729
This quadrant is almost over and things
are getting to be strange. I haven't had any more “episodes” as
it were, but I have been given the option of familiarizing myself
with the protocols given to me and following them or staying confined
to my cell (they've let me out of the smaller room I was first kept
in again.)
The vast majority of this, as I said,
is simply to be quiet and let others talk. You never want to reveal
any information and most importantly, under no circumstances are you
to physically engage with a “Traveler.” Like me.
It explains why absolutely none of them
have ever tried to physically assault me.
TD: 3:91:3729
The end of a quadrant.
The start of something else.
The usual morning came and went and I
kept my head down and studied. I didn't think I had a chance in hell
of getting to see Ruya today. I was right, but it still wasn't a
usual day. Someone showed up about an hour after I woke up and only
gave orders but no information. The concept of pure surrender is to
hurry to along to shower, shave, put on makeup that “softens the
lines of your face,” dress in a suit you've never seen before and
get blindfolded, put into a van and injected.
(All of this without a struggle,
because what would the point be?)
I was not knocked out but I was high as
a kite. Apparently when someone is laughing or making jokes, not even
the spooks' driver can remain a stone wall of secrecy. Not that they
got most of it. I know that at one point I started screaming. “DON'T
USE THE FLASHY THING ON ME, K,” directly into the face of one of
the men who first visited Ruya's place. They were unamused.
Men-In-Black, man.
Men-In-Black, man.
I made my first mistake while I was
drugged up and in the back of that van, though.
It wasn't all fun and games for me,
after a while I just got irrationally angry and I think in the end I
asked them if they knew about the “Tall Faceless Fuck.” They
didn't say anything but that of course means that they didn't say
they did not. They did however give me another shot and I think that
put an end to screaming or laughing or joking. We traveled for what
may have been hours or a day or maybe a few minutes. That sedative
was the strongest thing that has ever been in my system, even more
than whatever they gave me the first time around. Why did they give
me anything I wonder?
When we stopped it was the middle of
the day in a busy city. The biggest on this world I've ever been to,
which constitutes the biggest of three I've seen. I've noticed
something that makes me curious about this world, this culture. I've
never seen a building more than three stories high. If they need more
space than that it is typically underground. Which, by the way, may
be an explanation for why I never see windows when the spooks keep me
wherever it is they keep me. I was pretty out of it on the way to
the van, so I really cannot recall. As for on the way back? Well,
they had to sedate me again because I think I lost it a little bit.
We sat there in dead silence for a
while , like they were waiting for me to come around. At one point,
the man to my left (one of the two who visited me at Ruya's home)
reached over and physically slapped me. Considering I was restrained
the only thing I could do was wince, but it did its job. The
adrenaline made me a little more aware. Then he reached out and
forcefully turned my head toward the window and held it there before
speaking his only words the entirety of the trip.
“Blue jacket, red trainers.”
(Sneakers.)
I looked for someone in a blue jacket
and red trainers and I saw him and recognized him.
Now I know what they meant by “don't
you want to meet yourself?”
The man in the red shoes and blue
jacket, sipping what passes for coffee around here, was me. His hair
was dark black, his skin complexion was closer to Ruya's than mine,
but in every other way I might have been watching a video of myself.
I was mostly in control of my self, ready to mark it down to drugs in
my system making me suggestible, until I saw a boy who looked like
Sean, my brother come to meet him.
Suffice it to say when I started to bang my head against the window and yell, they quickly gave me another shot and I wasn't awake until I was hanging half in and half out of my “room” with someone ordering me to walk on my own.
Suffice it to say when I started to bang my head against the window and yell, they quickly gave me another shot and I wasn't awake until I was hanging half in and half out of my “room” with someone ordering me to walk on my own.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
An interruption
This morning I was... interrupted.
I am safe now.
The promised information coming. There's a lot here. I may need to post it in parts just so you can see some instead of waiting for me to finish transcribing it, which... I don't know if I'll have time.
Can't talk about where I am, but this country does not speak my language.
I am safe now.
The promised information coming. There's a lot here. I may need to post it in parts just so you can see some instead of waiting for me to finish transcribing it, which... I don't know if I'll have time.
Can't talk about where I am, but this country does not speak my language.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
A quadrant later..
I've been writing all this time, to tell you all about what has been happening but it's all
been on paper.
It is late in the evening of 4:60:3729.
I have experienced, seen and learned
many things. Not all of them are provable facts but those seem to be
acceptable. A lot of questions have been answered for me and a lot
more created for me. More than that, I've learned things that I need
to tell Ruya.
If she would just wake up.
It has been the better part of a full
quadrant, the cycle coming to a close. Here, the weather is getting
cool, nothing like I expect it is back home, but still cool.
Friday, July 25, 2014
Update 3:76:3729
They did it simply at first, honestly.
I would step out of the house and they
would be waiting.
It's not that they intimidated me
that's not why I did it at all. It's sort of important to me as a
person that anyone reading this believes that. I eventually had no
choice is all. I kept going for about 25 days after the last post I
made. I think they knew they didn't have to intimidate me, they just
had to wait for me to run out of food or get tired of not knowing. I
still went to the hospital daily and they tailed me daily. I have no
vehicle or anything so the fact that they were trailing a person
walking on foot was blatantly obvious to the world around me.
Once I made it into town people would
see the big dark vehicle following along behind me and stare. Keep in
mind that by that point I'd already walked what the Kayani language
calls a Cret. It's about equivalent to five or six miles. That's how
far out of town Ruyani lived. Fuck. She's been gone so long even I've
started to call her Ruyani. Well, anyway, Ruya is still comatose.
It's all more or less the same. Turns out she dyed her hair. I
suppose back home it's not too surprising but her hair was the same
color as everyone else's here, jet black. Apparently in her case that
wasn't natural. She's a blonde. I wouldn't feel comfortable fixing it
for her even if I could afford to buy hair dye.
She and I were never lovers or anything of the sort and it would feel too damn personal. I do make sure she has her things around her... or at least I used to. I've literally been in confinement since my last visit to her and just got out a few hours ago. See, we did this dance, these suits and I. A man I once knew named Quinn would have called them spooks. They're definitely spooks. Anyway, we did this dance, day in and day out. They followed me from the house, into town and eventually to the hospital. They parked out front and waited for me to leave. If I did not leave, a call would be placed anonymously when visiting hours were over and a nurse would come to chase me off.
She and I were never lovers or anything of the sort and it would feel too damn personal. I do make sure she has her things around her... or at least I used to. I've literally been in confinement since my last visit to her and just got out a few hours ago. See, we did this dance, these suits and I. A man I once knew named Quinn would have called them spooks. They're definitely spooks. Anyway, we did this dance, day in and day out. They followed me from the house, into town and eventually to the hospital. They parked out front and waited for me to leave. If I did not leave, a call would be placed anonymously when visiting hours were over and a nurse would come to chase me off.
It was on my third day without eating
anything that the instinct to survive really started to kick in. Of
course that, as far as I was concerned, meant going to spooks. I
didn't like that idea. So my plan was, if I could make myself get out
of the bed I would skip the hospital. I would not be the first beggar
or the last out on those streets, the way I figured it. Unfortunately
that was the day that I couldn't make it to the hospital. At least
not on foot. I simply collapsed. I'm not even sure how far I got.
I woke up in the hospital and no one
was asking questions about who I was or anything of the sort. They
dodged any direct interaction. I ate, I hydrated, I was wheeled into
Ruya's room by a nurse and I sat there all day beside her with my
stomach churning and my pride wounded. There was only one reason I
was at the hospital and not lying in a ditch somewhere along the
roadside, after all. They brought me two more meals and when I
finished the final I spent the next two hours checking that all of
Ruyani's possessions were still there, none stolen. The man who left
the video on this blog came in and for the first time since this all
started talked straight with me.
He told me that having a choice was an
illusion and that he was as tired as I was hungry.
I spent the next two weeks in a room
the size of Ruya's hospital bed with paper gowns to wear and people
poking and prodding me. There were any number of tests and scans that
I can't really identify or describe, even if I was allowed. Most of
it was psychological testing. I didn't know why I was going through
any of it, I only knew I had to. I am wrong, in this world and I can
walk and talk but I might as well be an infant. I know what they want
now, I just don't know why.
They've promised to let me see Ruyani
daily when I can but told me it might not be every day because it all
depends on one thing.
I have to suit up.
I don't want to. I don't actually want
answers.
I just want to see Ruya again.
I think this is my fault.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Maybe it's time, after all.
It is the thirtieth day of the third quarter of the year 3729, for whatever that means to all who are not where I am.
Like Ruya, I can't access the blog. Thing is, maybe there's a reason for that. Only a couple of people have indicated they've read it and you all seem to be... either messing with a pair of completely insane people or from the place where I am, where video entertainment caught on over radio entertainment and didn't need to wait until the internet took over to flourish or where the language I speak (and often butcher) is called English. Maybe we can't access it because it isn't meant to be here.
A while ago we were listening to her favorite show in the middle of the night and a pair of men came by. The voice on that video on my page belongs to the younger of the two. I guess looking back they hinted that I ought to "look to" them for "help." I don't know what they mean by "millions of lives" or by the associated imagery. Wish I had a name for you, none was given.
This "meet yourself" nonsense, too, like he thinks I'm delusional, maybe. I don't like it. I don't like any of this. I spent so much time depressed and alone that I never thought I'd say this but I want to be back in my shitty little cabin, behind the gates of the "commune."
Here's the thing. I'm starting to get hungry, very literally. I think there's beginning to be some suspicion about me at the hospital because a nurse seemed to realize I haven't been eating, brought me a meal and was promptly taken off of duty as far as Ruya goes.
That's the thing, guys. Before, I lived very strangely, in a closed in community, doing what amounts to freelance work over the internet for peanuts and half living off of carefully portioned out student loan money from the last semester I completed before dropping out and running. Thing is, no matter how weird things got or how frustrated I was, I always managed to at least eek out enough for a damned meal.
I may have to go to them after all.
Tell me, though, when does going with two unnamed, suited government types who didn't identify themselves at all ever end well?
Like Ruya, I can't access the blog. Thing is, maybe there's a reason for that. Only a couple of people have indicated they've read it and you all seem to be... either messing with a pair of completely insane people or from the place where I am, where video entertainment caught on over radio entertainment and didn't need to wait until the internet took over to flourish or where the language I speak (and often butcher) is called English. Maybe we can't access it because it isn't meant to be here.
A while ago we were listening to her favorite show in the middle of the night and a pair of men came by. The voice on that video on my page belongs to the younger of the two. I guess looking back they hinted that I ought to "look to" them for "help." I don't know what they mean by "millions of lives" or by the associated imagery. Wish I had a name for you, none was given.
This "meet yourself" nonsense, too, like he thinks I'm delusional, maybe. I don't like it. I don't like any of this. I spent so much time depressed and alone that I never thought I'd say this but I want to be back in my shitty little cabin, behind the gates of the "commune."
Here's the thing. I'm starting to get hungry, very literally. I think there's beginning to be some suspicion about me at the hospital because a nurse seemed to realize I haven't been eating, brought me a meal and was promptly taken off of duty as far as Ruya goes.
That's the thing, guys. Before, I lived very strangely, in a closed in community, doing what amounts to freelance work over the internet for peanuts and half living off of carefully portioned out student loan money from the last semester I completed before dropping out and running. Thing is, no matter how weird things got or how frustrated I was, I always managed to at least eek out enough for a damned meal.
I may have to go to them after all.
Tell me, though, when does going with two unnamed, suited government types who didn't identify themselves at all ever end well?
Sunday, June 15, 2014
3-26-3729
On 2-74-3729 Kzra asked:
What did she try?
On 3-16-3729 Kzra said:
What did she try?
On 3-16-3729 Kzra said:
Fuck.
Take it things aren't going so well.
I either of you can reply, keep us updated.
Be safe.
Take it things aren't going so well.
I either of you can reply, keep us updated.
Be safe.
On 3-6-3729 the last post on this blog
was made on this computer. Obviously not by me and definitely not by
Ruya. The day before the hospital visit she said she wanted to try
something. Given what she said happened the last time she “tried
something” with me, I didn't want any part in whatever it was.
Psychology, parapsychology, voodoo bullshit, I don't care. I didn't
want any part in it. I still did what she wanted.
She said she was going to try to find
It in the Irdi Field. (By the way, I realize now that I think I heard
of the concept of the field before I met her. I don't recognize the
word she used for it, though.) She told me she was going to try to
access it through and I quote “a sort of self-hypnotized guided
meditation.” She also said she hated to do it because sometimes,
just sometimes, she swears she hears and sees things when she tries
to do that. She told me to come in and if anything started happening,
to start taking photographs.
So I waited and waited and the next
day, as she was getting ready to sleep (we do not sleep at night) she
told me to give her a few minutes and then come in.
So I did.
I could hear her voice through the door
when I came in and it was coming through an old tape recorder. Let's
say that if I understand anything about all this it's that I don't
understand anything at all about all of this. I can only assume it
worked at first, to help put her under.
Then things... went very wrong.
Some sort of fit, a seizure, coughing
blood, nosebleeds and it got worse from there. I sent for help and
they got her to the hospital.
Technically her brain activity is lower
than they would hope for... but she's not braindead. She's just
comatose.
I wonder if you can imagine how hard it is to get a job when you don't have an identity... or know anything about just about anything in the world around you, or technically have no home. I mean, in reality I'm living at the hospital or Ruya's but technically there's no home.
I wonder if you can imagine how hard it is to get a job when you don't have an identity... or know anything about just about anything in the world around you, or technically have no home. I mean, in reality I'm living at the hospital or Ruya's but technically there's no home.
No one's come by so if Ruya has any
friends or family they don't know she's sick. I don't want to ask the
doctors and arouse suspicion and anyway the guy who seems to be in
charge of taking care of her doesn't speak... whatever language Ruya
and I speak. I'd call it one thing, she would call it another.
Point remains. I can stay at her home
for now but I cannot buy food and most of what's left in the house
now is canned and even that is running low. One more can of terta
seed soup and then it's just down to canned vegetables.
I've typed all of this and said nothing
about the video, haven't I?
I know whose voice that is.
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