Magi Walsh assisted the S.Q.U.I.D (Super Conducting Interference Device) with the Crown Tech he wore upon his head. The technology rested upon his brow and did indeed resemble a halo fixture, giving the magi a look of honorary sainthood. Walsh for all the years I was acquainted with him stylized his hair in a slicked back strip no more than two inches thick traveling in width from front to back . Every minutia , the way the patterns in the looming granite columns in an act of pareodelia, imprisoned solemn faces frozen forever in hues of deep green and stone white. To the masterfully rendered ice cube fabrications that intentionally resembled ancient buildings to a T , all the way down to the Steelcase modular cubicles set in rows of eight one would see if looking through a magnifying glass or into and past perspiration rivulets running down the side of a glass pitcher of spring water that sat on a glass kidney shaped table with steel framed legs.
All of this , I took in. The ice machine must of switched themes since my last visit , as I recall ice shaped dinosaurs swimming in my glass of organic Mountain Dew while High Priest Herrera lectured me on meditative insanity preventing defenses. On that day in particular- Defensive Prayer Repetition. A course I would surely hope to never have to use.
The sole spot-light shining upon the S.Q.U.I.D was now joined by another. Unlike the first, which essentially illuminated by no known visible source, the second bore forth from the square window that now revealed itself high above us on a wall to my left . It was an observation room that framed the recognizable silhouette of the High Priest.
I expected TempelGuard Baldrige-The nerve system monitoring software to already of been running a system check on my vitals and compatability matrix . Tempelguard BR could nearly be regarded as an authentic spectral manifestation of the system's founder, Professor S. Artika .
The 0R0 BoREAL Suit sat upright on a glass block adjacent from a matching block of identical design. In between the two was a levitating glass frame encapsulating a spearmint hued circle of illumination. This emerald ring was center diameter within the glass,two inches distance from the corners exactly on all sides.
"Have a seat of the block over there" Magi Walsh instructed without so much as a glance from the S.Q.U.I.D device . It resembled a giant floating human head . Albeit with a multicolored fiber optical cable system running through and interweaving in a knotted system within its semi translucent cranium .
I stared through the floating glass window at the suit. Despite not actually containing anything of a living sentience within, the exo-suit could of passed for a human being sitting still patiently waiting for a Dr's appointment or a... haircut .The thought of the suit wanting a haircut made me chuckle out loud.
I could not help but feel a growing kinship or comradery with this inanimate vessel . It sat there with a sense of hopeful optimism that I admired. But was it just me? Projecting my own feelings onto the Suit? Why was I not surprised at such a bond when after all was I not guided and conditioned to experience this exact moment in this very way?
"Please place your right arm on the emerging arm brace" Magi Walsh's voice came over an intercom system. I failed to notice the moment the arm brace had risen out of the floor next to me. Nor at what point Magi had left the room for that matter. I laid my arm upon the brace . Vinyl bands bonded with a network of sensors as they slowly wrapped my forearm . From between my thumb and index finger a stainless steel mandible extended up to a steady position over my tensed wrist . "What did you think about that sunrise this morning?" Good shit huh?" I was about to respond to Walsh when in a lightning fast gesture, a syringe extended out of one the mandible's steel digits . A butterfly tongue of surgical grade material alloy punctured my soft flesh.
"Gets em everytime " Walsh said amusingly.
The pain was intense yet brief and held a noticeable weight to it as experienced in a burning pressure within my bloodstream. Pharmaceuticals of a peculiar nature , a mixture of natural chemistry laid over with Nanotech-rituals a continuous repetition of random number generators overlapping occult memetic imagery on a microscopic scale surfing my nervous system.
A low chant auditory in nature grew in decibel levels yet as of this moment barely audible in the large space of the tomb . This hum of whispering voices a whirlwind aurai that bounced off the walls and against me. Goosebumps rose up on my neck and arms as I tried to determine whether what I heard and felt was of an exterior source or an effect of the drugs. In actuality a byproduct of both as well as my own spiritual preparedness working in a subconscious level based on pre-programmed mental passcodes unlocked in real-time.
The chant grew louder and more familiar as I uttered its clustered syllables of no discernable meaning not in reality being words of any known lower man's language.
The vibrations gave my skin a cast off sensation not at all uncomfortable. Wouldn't it feel so good to peel my flesh off like a pair of dirty jeans? I was warned that the preparatory rites to the jump would provoke queer suggestions.
