I can feel pain.
Tommy can feel how my hands shake as I control his. He can’t feel the dampness on my cheeks where the tears have flowed for hours (of his time) on end.
I shouldn’t be here, not this late at night. His parents might hear him tippy-tapping under the covers in his bedroom. I had to bring you up-to-date on the last 24 hours while it is still fresh.
Beatrice returns to rehearsals on Tuesday, and I can’t let that happen. She has infected most of my street. There are cars parked on the road for the entire block at all times of day. People venture outside naked, though not too far from my house. The police were called, and those that attended haven’t left. They have been snared by her thrall. Tommy and Thaddeus have done their best to protect his family who live on the next street over, a cul-de-sac which has little through traffic, and isn’t directly accessible from my street.
That won’t last long. At some point, his parents will notice people skinny-dipping in my pool. They will also wonder where I am. I will have missed Tommy’s horn lesson three weeks in a row.
Unfortunately, this missive isn’t about that problem – directly, at least. I have made a decision, and that affects my other world – or it may.
My body has to die.
It neuters Beatrice for a while, possibly generations, until she can find a host – or me – again. Unfortunately, that death brings oblivion. My orb is in a fragile state. I need to start evolution in motion. I can’t wait for the fail-safe to kick in again. That may not even be the same orb. I will forget it, and it will evolve out of control. I have no idea how many such orbs exist in my subconscious.
Damn. I like that body, although I can’t remember any others. I still think I like it the most. It is, perhaps, the most like the real me, now that the hair and eyes have been corrected. Would I go back if I had the chance? I don’t know.
I will be reborn, and it may be years before I remember my true self – if I ever do. It took this body over 50 years.
How can I kill my body? I could coerce someone to kill it, but that jeopardizes the killer. That breaks my rule of non-interference. Is it a rule? Instinct tells me it is.
I must find a way to destroy the body that Beatrice inhabits in the next 48 hours without harming anyone else. (Coincidentally, it will be a new moon.)
But that isn’t why I have been crying.
I imagined the dream, the dream where I took part of my spirit and created a new species in my orb. If The Bible is relatively true, God created Adam and Eve at a terrible cost to him/herself.
Why do I refer to him/her in the third person? He/she/we are first person. Probably.
It was a momentous thing I did today. It took only a few seconds of Earth time, but millennia of Orb time.
I split my soul today. It was like smashing a diamond to dust. Each of those grains/molecules of diamond dust is a new soul. They will develop into new species that will inhabit not only Orbville, but that entire universe with billions of inhabitable worlds. I can’t explain fully how I did it. I imagined it, and it happened.
I took a swim in my moon womb, then breathed in deeply and imagined myself shattering and populating the universe with souls. That was it. There are a finite number, but that is staggeringly huge. Not all people will have a soul, and some souls can reproduce. Only a handful will be needed to populate Orbville.
Beyond what you could ever imagine. If a nurse asked me to describe it on a scale of 1 to 10, I would say at least a million. It wasn’t just physical pain. It was mental pain as well as spiritual pain. I cried for millennia.
What’s worse is that I will recover and forget it, then do it again someday. I’ve set the ball rolling in Orbville, at least, and I am weakened such that further creation is limited for now. I will walk that planet as one of that species someday, and forget all that has gone before. I’ve left part of me there.
Of course, it is all within me, too. It’s a paradox. It is all me.
In this weakened state, I must deal with Beatrice without popping Earth’s Orb. Instinct tells me I must reveal my true nature to Diane first. (If only to task her with protecting Thaddeus and Tommy. How can she do that? I don’t know, but she must.)
I will come back once more before I do the deed, and if you don’t hear from me again. Gaia Esmeralda Dryar is dead and reborn as someone else.