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The Door, Part 3
 Thursday, 06-Jul-2000

      216.1.2.185 writes:

Journal entry re the 07/05/00 Special Meeting of the GREENUP (yellow down) Club at the home of Booker T.

.....I arrived late, as is my nature, but fortunately Booker was still in the middle of his usual spiel about Prince Rupert being an inverted Dorothy Gale, with Kansas actually representing Rupert's home planet and Oz representing Earth. As I had heard this part of the speech many times before, I took the chance to look around the room. In contrast to most meetings, this one was packed--Ringed Man and Charred Lips Boy, for example, whom I had never seen here before, sat together a little down from me in the same row. Continuing to look around, I was then quite pleased see my close associate from Georgia, Willie McIntosh, dressed as Detective, seated in a row across the aisle and slightly behind me. Catching his eye, I smiled and waved surreptitiously. Appropriately, he wore a brown top hat with a purple frock coat. Beside him sat Darwin's orphaned twin cousin Martin Allen, dressed on this special occasion as a matching purple martin-bird. The latter's costume glinted with many silver specks, obvious symbolic remnants from his repeated magical forays into static filled tv screens.  Willie then pulled a huge magnifying glass from his coat and, while still watching me intently, held it out in front of him so that a particular area of Martin's costume became greatly enlarged. Four silver glints from this spot, arranged in a loose parallelogram, were revealed through this magnification to be tiny but nevertheless clearly discernable images from the Leo Petroglyphs I had been studying just the night before, more topaz colored now than silver--a continuation of the Darwin Project. Willie then replaced the magnifying glass in his coat, winked, and turned back to Booker. Pondering the meaning of this odd revelation, I also turned toward Booker, trying to return my attention to his speech.

....."...we come not to here to mourn a mock death," Booker was saying, "but to celebrate a mock life. Darwin's life was far too short, but what he, and also BIKER before him, ultimately revealed in their sacrifice was the true nature of Rupert to us: Rupert the alien; Rupert the friend; Rupert the co-creator. Imagine trying to outwit an all-knowing, all-seeing entity such as Brainard, a freak alien accident carried over from a different epoch...an entity that could traverse time as we do space. In the end, the project demanded two black holes, one rigged to the other in a continual fourth-dimensional loop. Many such systems were probably set up; we have only uncovered two. One of our friends who passed through such a duality is still with us (with his hand, he indicated BIKER, positioned beside the front row with a dubious pool of liquid forming underneath his wheelchair), still strong in emotion, but obviously weaker in mind and body. Our other, younger friend Darwin did not make it through at all: trapped in a cave, the dark womb-tomb, even before he became fully manifest, fully human. It is his death that brings us together, to take one more look, perhaps, at his tiny, dehydrated shell which so shortly before was filled with the water of life. But like BIKER before him, the precocious Darwin chose to undergo this ritual, knew the risks, the consequences. And in this respect we must celebrate his life as a triumph, so that Rupert could--and still can--pass between the portals unharmed..."

.....Although knowing that what I did next was, in normal contexts, absurb, I nevertheless found myself raising my hand at this point in Booker's speech to pose a question. Obviously surprised to see someone interrupting him, Booker looked toward me haltingly, and, after a moment, acknowledged my query with a quick nod. I stood up. "Booker, are *you* Rupert?" I then asked loudly so that all could hear.

.....Instead of answering the question, Booker disappeared. I don't mean he walked off the stage; instead, his form, if you will, simply *vanished* into thin air, on the spot. No gasps from the audience were heard, however, as would be expected with this incredible event. I instinctively moved toward the podium, feeling all eyes move with me. Upon reaching the place where Booker had just stood, I discovered a small, glinting black-silver cube on top of his notes. Moving closer, I then saw what the object was: the 5th and final petroglyph, the holographic Rainbow Sphere--not static, as in the duplicated image in Ohio, but alive with hyper-dimensional color. Half spheres, quarter spheres, turned in upon themselves in inexplicable ways to reveal the perfect hemispheric balance of 10 and 26, 18 and 18, with the hidden 13th now surfacing, the center. Gripping the sides of the podium tightly, my hands turning blue in the process, I felt the transformation become complete, locked into place. I then looked up at the club members, who now appeared two-dimensional, like tv images.

....."*I* am Rupert," I said aloud while simultaneously waking.

END OF ARCHIVE.
 

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