You know that feeling you get when you’re halfway to work and you realize that you can’t remember the last fifteen minutes of your drive. You know you’ve been gripping the wheel staring out the windshield, but you aren’t really there. Some part of your subconscious was driving, a deep reptilian part of the brain. Thank god for that cold bloodedness. We mammals are too fuzzy, too distractible, much like my cat.
I’m a bit fuzzy and distracted right now. Not halfway to work, but halfway to Zeta Epsilon V. It’s a blue rather nondescript star which might or might not hold the key to human consciousness. Impossibly near this blue star’s surface is an infla-grav portal that is not part of the Outreach. This portal predates human astraportation. It shouldn’t exist. It does.
I’m not the first to try to figure it out. I could be the last, though. The portal has become unstable. Inflatons are beginning to outnumber gravitons around Zeta Epsilon V. Soon that instability will go critical. So, I’m on my way, though I’m really not. Just my thought.
That’s the crux of this. All of what’s happening exists in human thought. Our consciousness. And no one really understands what that means. We get the neurologic electro-chemical underpinnings, but not the field dynamics. We don’t know if its particle or string based. Containment is a factor, though not an absolute, otherwise we would never have managed to Outreach.
This is a case of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts—and that’s not even certain. Consider your own consciousness. Your thought. Your mind. Naturally shaped by biological force and function, it seeks to transcend the physical world around it. The mind births ideas and dreams, notions and desires. It harbors innumerable pasts and futures while processing an ever more thinly sliced present. A momentary calculus under an infinite curve. In the simplest sense, a mind is its own universe of possibility.
It is the metaverse in a local nutshell. Because of this, stasis management of inflatons and gravitons have made Outreach possible. Thought unbounded. The metaphysical meets the physical and becomes philotic physics: consciousness traveling light years beyond light speed.
And, thus, I’m halfway to Zeta Epsilon V and still thinking about my cat. More to the point, thinking about its mind. My cat can’t Outreach—yet. Some say it must learn to upreach or we must learn to downreach, but that seems inelegant to me.
There’s a lot about existence that lacks elegance, but the concept of consciousness is not one of them. Thought is a field. What are the limits? What are the ties that bind? What are the barriers that block? Zeta Epsilon V may be the wellspring. It is not human sourced. It is not a ghost town, graveyard, purgatory, heaven or hell. It is an outlier.
Anomalies are the cornerstones of larger truths. Like my cat. It hissed as I left this morning. Just as my eyes turned inward, vacating for portage.
My cat is probably nipping at my fingers, pawing at my wrists. It knows I’ve left it again. It knows I’ve Outreached. It wants to come too, but not to be with me. My cat doesn’t think that way. Its consciousness is primal. Regal. Imperial. It seeks a universe to dominate.
We will battle in the far reaches of some universe. That’s my theory of Zeta Epsilon V.
It will hiss.
I will make it purr.