This design had to give some result. Without a positive result his scholarship would not be renewed and his project funding would be cut.
Mik wrapped his newest spectacle design around his eyes. This design was his simplest one, although to arrive at this design had taken him three years and delayed the completion of his Ph.D specialising in the Physics of phase shift modulation, by two years.
The spectacles worked, even better than he could have expected. He was so engrossed that he didn’t even notice his Ph.D supervisor entering the laboratory.
Trekus
The spectacles were inspired by the rituals of the Witch Doctors of the Tubutu tribe of a small Pacific Island. Mik had participated in a survey team that studied some of the Pacific Islands as part of his post-graduate study. His role in the survey was to find a location for a suitable location for a gravity wave detection unit to coordinate with the other gravity wave detection facilities across the world. The survey required that the local cultures are not disturbed, and so he worked closely with Mary, an anthropologist who was studying the local tribes. There was a 400-year-old story that had fascinated Mik from the local tribal lore. This story told of the tribe’s Witch Doctor called Trekus who gained incredible powers that came from his bird-bone headdress. His ceremonial headdress featured bone eyepieces made from a particular species of bird called the Lemu. The Lemu-bird was hunted into extinction hundreds of years ago, and the headdress remains only in the stories of the tribe
The purification ceremony was conducted on the top of the tallest mountain of the Island. Trekus was wearing the headdress during the ceremony when he was struck by lightning or as the locals described it, ‘the spear of the demon of the storm’ entered his body. From that time on when Trekus wore the headdress he could ‘summon the power of the flesh realm’ and exact mighty vengeance on his enemies. It was told that Trekus killed a man who argued with him by making a fist behind his head – and pulled his arm away. The man crumbled to dust. Trekus was also able to control the elements being able to summon a storm or waterspout.
Following the ceremony where Trekus was struck by lightning, he lived alone in the caves near the peak. Mysteriously, he single handedly erected a finger of stone, five metres tall at the ceremonial space to ‘draw the anger of the demons’ and he would place the headdress on top of the finger during thunderstorms.
Legend told that Trekus was swallowed by the earth, and was never seen again.
Dr Lavery
Mik never understood what the tribesmen had meant by the ‘flesh realm’ until he was saw it. Everything he could see through the spectacles was made of meat. The laboratory walls, his desk, the clutter about the room, the floor, the ceiling, everything, looked like meat, all throbbing and pulsating with life.
He looked at his body. He was meat; lumpy, veinous, shiny, oozy meat. He would have looked at himself in the mirror, but it looked like meat too. He was fascinated, and moved about the laboratory and looked at his arms. As he moved, the meat flowed over him, his motion was like a wave in the meat. He sat down on his meat chair at his meat desk.
He looked over the things on his desk, moving things around and observing the movement of the object across the surface of the meat. He was surprised by a meat figure looking over his shoulder. He was so surprised that pushed the figure away and he fell to the floor.
“What are you doing Mikhael?” asked the figure, leaning over him.
He quickly pulled the spectacles from his face, and immediately recognised the face of his Ph.D supervisor, Dr Lavery. Dr Lavery always called him ‘Mikhael’. That was his full name, but Mik hated people using it, and Dr Lavery knew this.
“Nothing, nevermind, just trying out my prototype,” answered Mik whilst cringing.
“You’re not still mucking around with that Voodoo mumbo jumbo are you? snapped Dr Lavery. “If I don’t have any serious research from you by next week, I’m going to have to inform your scholarship sponsors.”
Dr Lavery was a crabby old academic. He had a safe position at the university, he was quite good at the theory of his field, but had no practical success with his own research. He was very keen to have some of his students make some discoveries so that he might take the credit. He would push his students to undertake their research in areas that he believed could be best exploited for monetary gain for himself. When one of his best students, Mik, was pursuing a personal interest experiment that did not seem to be related to his primary research, or to do with phase shift modulation or even Physics he became quite agitated.
Mik handed his spectacles to Dr Lavery. Dr Lavery, not wanting to look like a fool, hesitated.
“What do we have here? Hmmm? They look like they’re made out of some old bones,” he said.
“They’re actually artificial ‘old bones’ of an extinct bird. I had to grow them,” replied Mik.
Dr Lavery put the spectacles in front of his glasses. He peered through one eye of Mik’s spectacles.
“What kind of grotesque trick is this?” started Dr Lavery, as he was obviously shocked by what he had seen.
“No trick, I told you before, ‘flesh realm’,” said Mik, “now you’ve seen it.”
“I think I will have to take these back to my office for further investigation,” said Dr Lavery waving the spectacles. He peered through Mik’s spectacles once more. “My boy, you are really ugly … but what is that white thing on the back of your … neck.”
He looked back and forth between the spectacles and his normal vision.
“I can only see it with these, your shape is the same, but that white thing, its not there in real life.”
“Let me see if you have one too,” suggested Mik, holding out his hand for the spectacles.
Dr Lavery reluctantly handed him the spectacles. Mik inspected the meat image of Dr Lavery with the spectacles. “You also have some kind of parasite thing on the back of your neck.”
“Can you touch it?” asked Dr Lavery, not hiding his concern very well. Dr Lavery was accustomed to having an explanation for everything and was finding this experience quite unsettling.
Mik reached out with his arm towards the white parasite on Dr Lavery’s neck. His fingers touched where the parasite should be. He could not feel anything, but he could see the parasite squishing under his fingers. “I can touch it, but I can’t feel it.”
“Pull it off, quickly,” said Dr Lavery, “I’ve always wondered why I feel drained, what is sapping my strength, what is stopping me from flourishing as I so rightly deserve…”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Mik interrupted. “We don’t know what it is.”
“Pull it off, pull it off. Who would have thought that the thing that was holding me back was some kind of psychic tick?” said Dr Lavery.
Mick grasped at the white parasite on the back of Dr Lavery’s neck. Even though he could not feel it, he could see that it was slippery. It slipped from his grasp a couple of times.
“Do you have it? Is it off yet?” asked Dr Lavery.
“Not yet, its quite slippery.” Answered Mik.
Mik grabbed the parasite around the base with both hands, and pulled. It offered no resistance. It was as if he was pulling nothing.
“It’s coming out now,” said Mik.
As Mik pulled at the lump, white squid-like tentacles unravelled from within Dr Lavery’s body.
“I’m feeling better already,” said Dr Lavery.
Mik wrapped the tentacles around his arms as he pulled, and pulled through seeming metres of tentacles. As the last of the tentacles snapped out of Dr Lavery’s body and writhed around, seeking for his flesh. Dr Lavery stood stock still for a second, then fell down. His body shattered as if it were made from sand.
Mik flicked the parasite from his hand. It squirmed around on the meat floor. The lump embedded itself in the floor and then with pulsing motions of the tentacles it pushed itself, wriggling, into the floor and disappeared from view.
Mik took off the spectacles. He wasn’t sure what to believe. How could he explain to the authorities the pile of dust on his floor wearing his supervisor’s clothes?
Paul
Mik’s eyes opened slowly. The glare of the mid-morning light burning its way past the gaps in the curtains hurt his eyes. He was at home, in his apartment. He had fallen asleep on the bed fully clothed, although for him this was quite a common experience. Mik often worked on his projects for days without sleep, eating whatever junk food came to hand, until his body and mind shut down. Most of the time he managed to make it back to his apartment to collapse on his bed, although occasionally he had fallen asleep in the lab. Mik lived alone in a small, one-room apartment that was exceedingly untidy.
In his half-sleep reverie, he searched through his thoughts for an incident that was bothering him. He sat up with a start, and hid his head in his hands when he remembered what happened last night. He considered for a moment, that whatever happened was just a dream. However, through his fingers he could see his hand-carved bone spectacles, sitting discarded on the table next to his bed. He lifted the spectacles gingerly, and was about to put them on when there was a light, polite knock at the door.
“It must be the Police,” muttered Mik to himself, under his breath.
Mik sat stock still, and did not say anything in response to the knock, hoping that whoever it was at the door would go away.
“Mik, open this door … now”, said a voice from the other side of the door.
Mik recognised the voice as belonging to his old friend, Paul Breinan. He had not seen him in two years.
Many things about Paul puzzled Mik. He had dark skin, and a slight German accent. This combination has always seemed a little strange to Mik. He spoke very slowly and was exceedingly patient, except for the most trivial of things, such as waiting for someone to open a door.
Mik quickly opened the door.
Standing in the doorway, Paul pointed to the bone spectacles that were in Mik’s hands. “I bet they don’t work any more,” he said, and winked.
Another thing that puzzled Mik about Paul was that he was almost always right. The single incorrect prediction that Paul made was when he told Mik in grave seriousness that he would not live to be any older than 25 years, which was untrue, as Mik is now 32. As Mik always had great faith in Paul’s predictions, perhaps this was part of the reason why he is so driven by his goals, as he always thought he would die young. Mik has been puzzled by this false prediction for the past 7 years.
Mik put on the spectacles, and was a little relieved to find that Paul was right. He could see the ordinary world, in the typical, ordinary colours and textures. Mik was confused.
“How did you know, I mean, about them, let alone whether they work or not?” asked Mik.
“One day, soon, all will become clear,” answered Paul. “I will show you many things, but not today.”
Paul did not just have dark skin. He had an air of darkness. Mik used to think that if he stood still at night, he would be invisible. He had long dark hair that was tinged with grey, he wore a dark well-tailored business suit and his dark eyes, smouldered a kind of age-old wisdom. His creased leathery face was sun-worn and this may have suggested that he was younger than he looked. Somehow Mik knew that Paul not only possessed the appearance of many years, he was old, although he never seemed to age.
Mik had known Paul all his life. He was a friend of his parents whilst he was growing up, and he would come and go erratically. He never lived nearby, but was always present at significant times in Mik’s life, such as school awards nights, and graduation ceremonies. He was like an uncle to him. On his visits he would entertain Mik with stories from all over the world, and intrigue him with the mysteries of science.
Paul strode very quickly although effortlessly across the room to the couch. He deftly brushed aside some old newspapers, TV guides and empty burger cartons from the seat and sat down.
“If I were dead, you would miss me, yes?” started Paul.
Mik nodded, although perplexed.
“But, if you were dead too, then who is there to miss?” said Paul.
“Is this going somewhere?” asked Mik.
“No, no…” Paul’s voice trailed off into nothing.
Another thing that puzzled Mik about Paul was that he often spoke in riddles. He was very economical with words, although they did not always make sense.
“Why this talk about death?” asked Mik, “you have just arrived, and I haven’t seen you for years. How about a cup of tea?”
“Tea, yes. I like tea.” said Paul.
Random Circumstance
“You might like to try re-charging the spectacles with the lightning field generator,” was the last thing that Paul had said before he left Mik’s apartment.
Before Mik charged out of his apartment, unshaven and bedraggled in his clothes from the previous day, he called his friend Mary on the telephone. Mary was the closest thing to a girlfriend that Mik has ever had. As she was as committed to her research as Mik was to his, they would rarely see each other. They lived separately and if it weren’t for the telephone they probably would forget they even knew each other. He asked Mary to come and meet him at the laboratory as he had something to show her.
Mik drove recklessly to the Physics Department’s experimental building. All dangerous experiments are conducted in this warehouse-sized building. He went straight to the lightning field generator. He placed the spectacles on the polished granite podium in the centre of the lightning field generator, and closed the Faraday cage around the podium. He flicked switches on the console to release the safety mechanism, and to begin the charging phase. The lights in the building dimmed, as the humming machine stored up its charge.
The phone near the machine started to ring. Mik grimaced in annoyance. He looked at the phone, then back to the machine, and back to the phone again. He decided to let it ring whilst he finished with the machine.
The five lights slowly winked on in turn to indicate the progress of the charge build-up. Mik pulled down his safety goggles and adjusted his ear protection. Even though Mik had used the machine several times, each time he felt a sense of trepidation. He hesitated for a moment, then pressed the release button.
The blast of light, even through the darkened welding goggles, caused Mik to screw up his eyes. The air crackled and his skin felt tight from the hairs standing on end all over his body. The hot pungent smell of ionised gases seared the inside of his nose as he breathed. Then it was over, and the only sound was the ringing of the phone.
As he leapt toward the ringing phone the air extraction fans over the lightning field generator noisily fired into action and continued to hum to extract the poisonous ozone gases. Mik’s clothes whipped about him from the suction of the fans as he reached the phone.
Mik yelled into the telephone as he could barely hear the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Yes? This is Mik Putinof”
“The Police?”
“Mary – an accident? I’ll go directly to the hospital”.
Even though he was flustered, Mik did not want his spectacles falling into the wrong hands. He locked down the safety mechanisms on the lightning field generator, opened the Faraday cage and snatched the still smoking spectacles from the granite podium, wrapped them in a hand towel, and put them in his shirt pocket. Leaving the experimental building, he then headed to the hospital in his car.
He found his way to the accident recovery ward at the hospital. There was a policeman at the door to her room. He addressed Mik as he approached.
“You are Mikhail Putinof?” asked the policeman. “I’m Sergeant Baker.”
“Mik Putinof, if you don’t mind”, said Mik, with an emphasis on the ‘Mik’.
“Very well”, said Sgt. Baker. “Do you know this woman? She had your name and number at the university on her person when she was picked up by the ambulance.”
“Yes, I know her. What happened?” asked Mik.
“She was hit by a car near her residence, it broke her leg. She’s a bit doped up now, you won’t be able to talk to her.”
“Can I see her anyway?” asked Mik.
“Are you a doctor?” said Sgt. Baker. He paused and looked over Mik’s disturbed face. “Oh, very well, just don’t take too long. I want you to come with me down to the station for an unrelated matter. I believe you were the last person to see a…” said Sgt. Baker, looking down at a little notepad, “…Dr Emile Lavery yesterday, and I would like to ask you some questions.” said Sgt. Baker.
Mik entered Mary’s ward room. She looked pale, almost glowing in the dim light, and she was sleeping. Her leg was strapped with an external steel splint that appeared to be holding her leg in place with pins into her bones. Her leg was raised and even though the gashes in her leg had been cleaned they still looked ghastly.
(Description of meat – vein that provides pain to leg)
He heard a voice in his ear that sounded like Paul. “God is pain,” said the voice. Mik swung around, expecting to see Paul standing behind him. “Human technology has reduced the necessity to feel pain. Pain keeps us concentrating on our physical existence. Without pain we can be like gods. Mere chemicals can free our minds from the bondage of physicality”, said the voice, and then it stopped.