GODDESS MATERIAL OR MATERIAL GODDESS?
Episode I. / Chapter 2 of The Aqueous Transmission by Mike Eye
THE WOMAN WAS VERY SLENDER, EXTREMELY ATTRACTIVE. SHE WAS absolutely stunning superficially, perfect-looking now even in her state of distress. She was beyond magnificent, having an incredibly tall, curvy, tight body with smooth, glowing, dark-chocolate skin that was decorated with dedicatory tribal ink of feminine symbols throughout, up her arms and down her back. She had many sizeable stone piercings. Her Eyes were large, alluring glass beads that continuously glowed vigorously. Her hair was exceedingly long, smooth, and dark, flowing well past her wide, slim waistline, bouncing playfully in luscious swirls about her body.
Ceaselessly employing her alluring enigma to her great advantage, the roguish woman was always able to entice any being with a Heart by her beauty. She was always dressed simply, but elegantly, usually in a long, translucent golden dress woven from the brilliant fibers of the almighty Solaria, the vast blazing force that had more than Once anointed her “Mother Magdalena, the eternal Heart in the Body of all Human Beings.” Her special dress, which she most always wore, had been designed to shield the Mother from any airborne toxins or conflicting spirits that would ever attempt to interfere with her self-righteousness.
The woman was traveling with a tiny robot companion that had been engineered to look and behave like a cat. This silvery mechanical pet, which she called Amrita, was now scuffling on the ship’s flight deck below her, uttering gruff meows. Just like a cat, the little robot took a sly, feminine appearance, having quick reflexes and slinky hind legs that could swiftly propel its body upward to whichever higher surface it wished itself upon. Somehow, this small metal canister containing wires and chips was able to elicit affection, as it felt perpetually drawn to the enticing woman and her antics, usually behaving in such ways that exhibited emotional attachment to her. It spoke English. “You’re beautiful. I love you,” the thing would often mutter to the woman, rubbing up against her. And neither the woman, nor anyone or anything else, had specifically programmed the cat-bot to say that.
The space-pod was quite small in all, having the tiny flight deck toward the front end, a tiny storage space on it’s left-hand side, a tiny bathroom on its right side, and a tiny bedroom in the back. The center of the craft was no more than 50 square feet. The ship did not utilize any sort of plumbing system at all. The woman kept a large supply of highly nutritious and sustainable organic food as well as Pure Water in the storage area across from the bathroom. The “bathroom” had only a toilet in it, and a little mirror and medicine cabinet on the wall which contained only a basic first-aid kit. The waste of the person who used the toilet was emptied into a separate air-locked compartment that, upon sealing it’s top with the push of a button, would drop out into space.
All navigation controls built into the ship’s structure were able to be conveniently operated by either the pushes of small buttons, or any such finger manipulations of touch-screen technology. In addition to the highly advanced LCD touch-screen control panel, the ship’s controls included a “real-time” super-satellite UPS—that is, a Universal Positioning System—monitor that continuously updated itself, fully displaying a map of the galaxy it was currently situated in as well as that particular galaxy’s position in relation to adjacent galaxies. These and other controls were fully synchronized with an overblown holographic display overlain upon the entirety of the ship’s front-end.
To program coordinates for a destination, all the woman had to do was touch the part of the panel’s screen where she wanted to go. The rest of the navigation was then carried out by a state-of-the-art robotic engineer that lived inside the forceful walls of the craft, continually providing the craft with an electrically surging impenetrable force-field of Singularity. This special and most powerful barrier had been whole-heartedly Divined exclusively for the almighty Magdalena’s personal space-pod; it was yet another of the esoteric gifts received from the frightful Solaria on most High, and had been purposely materialized out of molten fragments of hardened, golden bullions extracted from the quark gluon plasma particles of the Crab Pulsar neutron star of the Taurus constellation, encasing a platinum-sheathed titanium alloy surface.
The full perimeter of the space-pod, which resembled a giant metallic egg tilted on its side, appeared silvery and smooth from the outside. From within the little craft, however, these walls would appear transparent; that is, they were unable to be seen at all from whomever observed them from the inside. Curiously, it was only the front-end mechanical shutter facing the main control panel that did conceal the exterior view from the pilot, requiring manual operation to release.
The present moment had the woman staring straight ahead, through the enlarged transparent depiction of the UPS monitor, out the crystal glass dash that was cutting through the gusting dark smoke just beyond it, where massive transformations of the Earth’s crust could now be seen by the woman.
She grew tenser. She dropped her sights down to a large box imbedded in the middle of the control panel that had a small sign near the bottom of it that read “Synchronoscope”. Inside was a small black headset.
The “synchronoscope,” also known to the woman as the PRAP-Q.C., an un-witty acronym for “Psychic Radio Assimilator of Perpetual Quantum Cognizance” was the space-pod’s prime feature. This ultra high-tech device, which was basically a physical remote-viewing mechanism, had been engineered to operate harmoniously with the UPS. It implemented a highly advanced zoom-in feature capable of rendering alongside the applied headset perfectly clear digital holographic projections before the face of the wearer of the headset, of multi-dimensional phenomena up to an extraordinary 16410-X magnification.
From anywhere in outerspace, this remarkable “psychoscope” headset, when finely tagged to a target by the wearer, was able to transmit to the wearer the most intimate representations of live cosmological activity in multiple senses. The psychoscope headset utilized, among other functions, an audio-to-light/light-to-audio modulator, and two pyramid-shaped prisms. The pyramidal prisms, when programmed with the psychoscope to be set inside one another, with one pyramidal prism flipped 180° from the other to form a star tetrahedron, would project the focused object with one kind of Merkaba field. When programmed to lay atop each other, with the base of each pyramidal prism meeting in the middle to form an octahedron, the synchronoscope would project the focused object with another kind of Merkaba field. The modulator would then be able to receive the audio or light frequency of any object the psychoscope was “tagged” with, as an initiation of intimate intentional Observation, convert the aligned energy emissions of the object into the desired frequency, and then project the frequency through the prisms. Once energized with the relevant information, the synchronoscope would then be able to provide sudden, subtle Insight into the very nature of the object being Observed, divulging a peculiarly pertinent, totally omnipotent High Wisdom that would explain the particular object’s reason for existing, as well as the very sacred connection the Observer had with the object. Increasing the focus of the device to its max would fully divulge the very nature of the observed object’s makeup, illuminating secret passageways to its intimately linked High network of fluxing potential energy. These “imagination filaments” of the object would reveal its sacred bond to absolutely anything else that may be somehow emotionally entangled with it. The contraption had been easily constructed with three small components several hundred-thousand years ago, within seconds, by one of Bry Dellows’ wretched, wilted outcasts known as the Gilded Grunts.
The PRAP-Q.C. could also be used to control the tagged object in every way possible, if only this function was desired by the controller. But the bold woman, being the wearer of this ship’s synchronoscope, customarily preferred using the handsome device to conjoin her consciousness and bio-neurological system with attractive and nurturing, colorful and complex psychedelic patterns converted from the wavering activated DNA strands of indiscriminate creatures she would so Observe upon indiscriminate planets she felt intuitively drawn to.
She did this to become wiser.
Only Once did the inquisitive woman use this mighty device for another purpose — when she had desired to bond with the cosmic vibration of a targeted Jupiter-being’s tone of harmonic resonance. The intensity of the resulting euphoria she had received from this entreatment had astoundingly assaulted her senses, leaving her forever altered.
Mother Magdalena, or Lina, as her sisters called her, now continued to gaze out the crystal glass dash before her with Tears in her Eyes, flustered as all Hell. Glaring through it in a trance, her face remained blistering as she attempted whole-heartedly to grasp her innermost cowardice and come to terms with it. She shivered as she reluctantly guided the craft toward an even lower elevation.
The ship kept increasing its descent at an accelerated rate and the cabin was starting to get bumpy. Out the window, the woman observed the patterns of dark grey muddling about, and she could only stare like a stone, transfixed at the dark, fluffy formations as they floated faster upward and over the ship.
Lina was extremely nervous. She glanced over at her PRAP-QC.
The dense clouds of smoke the ship had now completely become immersed within turned jet black as the ship continued to descend bit by bit, engulfing the vessel in a hazy death-grip of Wickedness somehow darker than the night sky surrounding it.
Trying to remain calm, focusing her force inward, the woman subconsciously sensed a dark reflection of the heavy smoke in the deep black swirls emanating from her Heart.
Dry dust, not warmth or light, emanated from within it.
Magdalena ignored this sentiment complacently.
She looked down at her chest and could feel her cold heart pulsing profusely. And she placed her hand upon her scornful love muscle, feeling its off-tempo icy pumps; strangely feeling confused, feeling afraid.
Shuddering free from the frightful grip that had fastened her into a stoned stupor, Lina momentarily halted her descent as she now sought to delve even deeper into the center of the congealed cinders that wafted through the center of her unusually heavy Heart. She took in a deep, stable breath, reached for the mighty PRAP-Q.C. headset inside the box on the control panel, put it on, and aligned it with the Earth’s Moon, which was a considerable distance from where she now sat at the cockpit of her space-pod. But no matter.
Focusing the synchronoscope toward the brightly lit Luna, Lina calibrated a precise projection that brought forth a shimmering holographic rendering into and around the psychoscope headset she was wearing. And it resounded avidly in her dark heart with poignant precision.
But then she quickly felt brilliantly elated.
She took in a few vital breaths with her abdomen, through her nose, as she glanced with her Mind’s Eye as steadily as she could at the super-sized glowing rocky formations that made up the surface of the Moon, feeling a tremendously potent, stark familiarity all the while.
Feeling many more than the five basic senses, the woman Observed the Lunar radiance at a magnificently High degree, and in many ways simultaneously. The image was so surrealy sharp and precise that it simulated an effect that physically brought the Mother directly to the surface of the Moon, from right inside her spaceship — a bi-location effect the synchronoscope could implement from its tagged object when ‘pushed’ to its limits.
The spectacle Lina was Observing was Immaculate.
The surface of the big, white glowing rock was lucid, but desolate. And somehow extremely enjoyable to her. She could see tiny jet-black swirls drifting outward from the Moon’s surface along with its white radiance, adding some Yun to its Yan.
Increasing the synchronoscope’s focus to its utmost maximum, Magdalena became the Moon.
With this perspective, Lina contemplated her apocalyptic situation from her synchronized astral alignment, feeling an overwhelmingly depressing sensation of despair rising in her that somehow felt all too familiar. Bursting into her Head as One lump of Force, Lina caught a vivid vision of all her sisters perishing a mile below her.
She chose not to look away, and glared uncomfortably into the High Light.
Then, possessed by it, she drove her Head abruptly backwards nearly snapping it clear off her neck in retaliation of the taunting bolts that shocked her ocular cavity, as 144,000 powerful visions of the spirit forms of what she knew as Hankerhawks and Loombugs flooded her neurological pathways with electrified flashes of brilliance.
And she was killing it all in her mind just as soon as she found the visions finding themselves being reborn in their own retaliation against her.
Lina contemplated the fate of her sisters, their blood-filled fleshy bodies instantaneously popping open, squirting out hot cherry juices to coalesce with the pieces of dusty man-made structures whirling with blustery dust throughout the sky. She vividly imagined her sisters’ body parts flying through the atmosphere with pieces of the Earth’s turf, twirling with smoky debris into cyclones of cataclysm. She thought of all the swirling junk that didn’t get burned up in the O-zone layer succumbing to gravity after the explosion, falling back down to a New Earth, a terribly shaken land of Shades and Shadows. She thought of just how much of the planet was still there, and where, if no longer intact, the pieces of it may have drifted.
Magdalena shuddered again most uncomfortably, a sense of Pure Rage building inside her. Her glowing psychic seascape abruptly collapsed to a diminished beam of mental static, slowly shrinking to nothingness, as she disengaged the Assimilator. Lina’s outlook as the Moon had dissipated. Her shoulders were shuddering.
She slammed a button on the control panel with her left fist and the flaps of the giant glass dash slammed shut before her, the magnified digital depiction of the ship’s controls dissipating into flittering fragments of lost linkage.
The gorgeous woman cast her dazzling, damp Eyes downward as she sat there, frustrated beyond stability, reaching her breaking point. She plopped from the edge of her seat down to the bottom of the flight deck floor in mute hysteria, finding herself face-to-face with her beloved mechanical pet, Amrita. Glancing up at her owner, the little robot was sitting, panting with its mechanical tongue falling out of its mouth as its Eyes bulged and it started to whimper. Seeking composure, Lina breathed in One deep, essential breath, exhaled, looked straight at the thing, deadpan.
”Rita. Do you know what has happened, my love?” she asked. “Do you realize what we’re gonna have to do?”
Amrita, back arched and tail erect, brushed its cold metal canister of a body against the traumatized woman, purring robotically, and then came back around to face her. It cocked its tiny head to the side and uttered a mechanical meow.
The android only spoke when it deemed it necessary to do so.
Another sharp shiver up the woman’s spine startled her, and she suddenly felt extremely nauseous.
KEEPING IN MIND THAT THE ANDROID ONLY FUCKING SPOKE WHEN IT DEEMED IT NECESSARY TO DO SO, WHY THE FUCKK (?¿) DOES THE STARTLED SEDUCTRESS SUDDENLY THEN FEEL NAUSEOUS??!! RETURN TO THIS FUCKING PAGE TO FIND OUT!!!! -MIKE EYE