A sense of imbalance
Pogis was young by Trappist standards, despite the fact that the planet had orbited its sun at least 5000 times since he was born. Although he was supposedly not yet of age, he had been taught how to drive neurovessels by his second matriarch, Ryggell, an elite lifeseeker – one of the planet’s most experienced outside explorers. She had taught him how to communicate with his vessel and had taken him to almost every corner of the planet. He sorely wished she was still here to advise him, but she had left more than 2 orbits ago on a lifeseeker mission. No one knew when she would be back.
Pogis Somer steadied himself. With a slight shift in concentration he prompted a switch in neural pathways. His vessel responded accordingly and changed gear. He had never travelled outside Trappist’s atmosphere but Ryggell had made sure he knew how. In the back of his mind, he realised that Ryggell must have sensed his nature and had made sure to prepare him for it. Her strict tutoring, her persistence, her breaching of the law – everything made sense now. Inwardly thanking her, Pogis set his jaw. He knew that the feeling of imbalance he had was peculiar, it was constant but yet faint – it felt distant somehow. He could never quite pinpoint it but he knew it was from somewhere far away. He took a long breath in.
‘You and your vessel must be one. You must enter the wormhole as a singular unit. Even the tiniest fragmentation in coherence and the wormhole will devour you.’ Ryggell’s teachings echoed in his head.
Releasing a calming neurotransmitter to ease the vessel, he slowly dissolved his sense of self. He was the vessel, the vessel was him. He was the vessel, the vessel was him. There was a pause before complete merging. Pogis infused the vessel with intention. Follow the feeling, find the off point. Follow the feeling, find the off point.
And then they burst into a million fragments.