Cube

The cube was seven feet in width and seven feet in height. It was transparent in visible light, so essentially it was invisible in the void of space. Inside slept Norman Reeds, pleasantly breathing in the oxygen generated by the three inch glass walls. When Norman breathed, the exhaled carbon dioxide made contact with the 1st glass wall, the CO2 particles were exchanged with oxygen cells and rendered the glass box completely and eternally habitable. The 2nd glass wall provided light and warmth, glowing vaguely enough to see his reflection on the glass walls. 

Norman awoke from a dream suddenly, blinking his eyes in the false light, trying to remember the dream but struggling to find the previous setting. He stood up and stretched in the cube, staring tiredly at the planet that was growing smaller in the impossible distance. The glass sensed minor discomfort in his eyes and the 2nd glass wall dimmed to a minimum until his pupils dilated to a normal setting. Norman jumped and touched the top of the glass wall, the ceiling, with a single finger and the square illuminated to a blank white screen.

Norman lay on his back on the glass floor, which shifted like foam under the contours of his muscles and skeleton to make his position comfortable. He thought of the dream he had just awoken from, closed his eyes and tried to summon the hazy pictures, the nonsensical conversations, and as he thought in complete focus, the ceiling screen began to change. The harder Norman thought of the dream, the more clearer the picture on the screen became.  Norman reached to his left and felt the glass beneath him swim slightly as his body moved. He touched the 3rd glass wall with a single finger and the words bled out from beneath his fingernail and onto the glass wall, the text of an important thought. Call Jasmine tonight when she wakes up, tell her to read Asimov to the boys.

Satisfied with the thought frozen safe on the glass wall, it faded along with the rest of his previous thoughts. If he wanted to he could touch three fingers on the 3rd wall and reveal all of his past thoughts, thousands upon thousands floating under the glass. Norman returned to the middle of the glass floor and felt the warmth radiate off of it, shifting as well like a mattress. He stared up at the ceiling, felt his in his brain the dream had completely loaded; it had been extracted from the electrical compounds of his mind and memory and synced to the ceiling screen. Although he could barely recall the dream, the ceiling had recorded and noted several things during Normans sleep, REM for example, which helps in the placement and selection of theme music and score.  The ceiling had made an almost inaudible noise, which meant the dream load was complete and the dream commenced above. Norman watched with sleepy curiosity.

A dark room. A door being opened and spilling light onto the floor, a red rug visible. A man walks in the house. He wants to kill you, Norman. He is going to murder you. Running out the back of the house, you are in a grassy landscape. From behind a bush can see the man move around in the house. He knows you're here, but he doesn't know where. In your hand there is a pistol, a snub nosed revolver, but it doesn't work, its faulty. You shoot at the man through the window, but the bullets are to small, they're like thumb tacks. They don't even break through the window. You're back in the house, hiding from the man. His name is Patrick, and he has  black hair slicked back like a sophisticated person, he appears to be harmless  but he is indeed lethal. He is in the living room, his back to you, looking down the dark hallway, looking for you. You come up behind him and raise the gun to his head. You shoot the gun, but the bullet is too small, it barely breaks through his head, and he turns around, he is going to kill you, you unload the rest of the guns entrails into the mans face, the small bullets pushing into the soft skin of the man, hes laying on the floor before you. His face has holes in it, but there is no blood, as if you shot the gun into a rubber mask. You take out his wallet and inspect its contents, and you suddenly realize that you murdered an actor.

Norman turned away from the ceiling and the screen vanished, replaced with the dark hole of space. He thought quietly to himself, when will the cube fly past time? When will the cube cease its journey? Will he ever see Jasmine again? When will he ever eat again? Or would he ever crave food? He has not thought about eating in a long time, looking at his long thin fingers, skin on bone, candy-caned veins, his legs straight and hairless, feet like claws with strings of tendons. He was perfectly malnourished, but he didn't mind it, as long as the glass cube provided him with everything he needed. 

Thinking of Professor Parker and what he said about how he wouldn't have to eat, Norman actually felt his stomach  whine in protest to his thought. He ran his hands up his bare torso and felt his heart beat under his ribs, felt his lungs consume this false oxygen, felt his pores breathe in the fake nourishment provided by the 4th glass wall. 

Why was he here? He had been in the cube for so long he hadn't thought about it. He just recalls with some vague and strange wonder, the day he had been chosen for the Cube Journey. He had been overwhelmed with joy, with excitement, he had been greeted with smiles and strong handshakes and there had been a great applause, an applause just for Norman, and he remembers the song they played, it was the Internations Theme, and he recalls his face being everywhere for a while before he was consumed by the cube. Telemoniters, televiews, iVids, Uscreens, and even on the old plasmas. He was the Worlds Celebrity. Everyone knew the name Norman Reeds. 

But why was he here?

Norman stood and stared at the glass in front of him. The glass sensed a prolonged eye contact and a blue transparent circle formed on the glass. The Blu Eye blinked and Her voice spoke, a voice that Norman selected personally.

“Yes, Norman? I sense a question brewing in your head.”

“Blu, I have a rather odd question to ask you.”

The Blu Eye blinked, hesitated, and said,

“Your brain activity is speeding, Norman. I think it's best that you cease any continuous thoughts, it could be harmful to the journey and delay--”

“Why am I here? Where are we going?”

The Blu Eye faded, then reappeared on the glass, which depicted an answer in progress, an answer coming not from the cubes internal memory, but from Earth. Blu could not answer this on her own. The eye appeared before Norman again and it blinked.

“You have been selected, Norman. You are the only one suited for the journey, psychologically and physically. The Internation chose you for the journey because they know that you can complete it successfully, and that with you as the Traveler, we can finally obtain an answer.”

“An answer for what?”

The eye faded again and then reappeared on the glass.

“For why we are not allowed to leave.”

“Leave what?”

“Our galaxy.”

“Explain, please.”

The Blu Eye, blinked, receiving information from Earth and then spoke.

“The Creators have placed us, the human population, in this galaxy intentionally, so we cannot leave.”

“But I don't understand. Where are we going?”

“At the end of the galaxy is the door, and you're the key.”

“Continue.”

“The Creators await our arrival at the end of the galaxy, and they wish to communicate with you.”

“But why?”

“Because you are one of the Creators.”

“I have been told that before, but without any real knowledge or justification behind it.” Norman's voice began to raise with anger. “What does that mean? Why am I here? WHY AM I IN THIS F*****G CUBE?”

“The information provided for you will suffice and answer your questions. I would advise you not to think too much, Norman, it could cause you confusion and potentially damage your current conscious.”

“Blu, please contact Jasmine Reeds.”

“I'm sorry, but currently my system is not allowed to make any contact with the Interstate.”

The eye blinked and disappeared. Norman sighed with frustration and cursed the box he was in. He thrashed his hands on the glass, watching his exasperated reflection attack itself. He stepped back and screamed. He screamed and screamed and another planet came into view, an ever-growing green sphere, and he screamed at the cube to land on the green sphere.  The glass around him sensed his rise in blood pressure and wild tone of voice, and Norman winced at the smell of the knock out gas. He blinked and the space dissolved before him.

 

 

                     

                          

                                  

           Norman awoke to vibration of the glass walls so loud it tickled his brain. He sat up in the cube, the four dimensional gravity keeping him perfectly still, but the space around him was spinning, the stars were spinning violently, as if in a cosmic funnel. He could only sit and watch his universe fade. The outside was changing colors, but all were impossible hues of black, nothing Norman had ever witnessed before. He was a quarter spinning on a glass surface, and immediately Norman thought of himself as George Washington.

.           An interstellar notification floated in front of Norman's face, a magnetic digital box that glowed as if tangible, and Norman touched it with a finger. The box dissolved into pale screen with distinct writing on it. Norman read: Spacetime BH-3346. Time left until evacuation: 0:13 seconds.

The vibration of the glass calmed to a gentle hum, and Normans head all at once turned to rubber, his entire body turned to rubber, and the cube wasn't a cube at all anymore, it was twisting into different shapes, but everything was still entirely intact. His arms were stretched out in front of him, he felt his body turn and twist, as if he was play-do being played with by a four year old.

           Norman felt an immense pressure in the core of his body, and in his head he felt nothing, his brain was stunned by the universe, he felt he had been stung by Gods thorn. And then he felt himself reassemble, his body was churning back into itself like a puzzle, he could feel the cells connect like magnets in his body, and all at once the cube was shot like a bullet, evacuated from the violent black-hole dubbed BH-3346.

           And then he was ice skating.

           The other side of the black hole was like an endless mirror maze, reflections of millions of glass mirrors over and over, a ceaseless repetition, infinite, and it created a bright glare, but there was nowhere for him to look, not even the thin skin of his eye lid could withstand the holy stare of what Norman thought was God. He was in heaven, he thought, this was heaven, he had found the entrance to heaven in the middle of the godforsaken void of space. That was why they sent me here, he thought, to knock on the door of God's office, right?

          But Norman was wrong. He was not in heaven.

          The cube was flying at an impossible speed, and Norman opened his eyes. It was the opposite of his galaxy. Black had bled into white. The black void of nothing was now completely illuminated. He imagined being inside a light-bulb. And then he felt the touch of the magnetic finger caress his body. The bright snow outside melted, and he could see the gravel underneath, and it was as if Norman had woken up from a nightmare, and he was back in cube, back in the locked room of space, with no windows, only shadows. The dark void of space had returned. Norman felt his heart beat at a steady pace. He breathed in the oxygen that the glass gave him, and he sighed.

Norman knew he was somewhere else, but he felt as if he had been here before, he felt as if this was the exact same route he had just came in on, but he felt as if he was moving backwards.

          And as the deja vu of infinite yesterday came swarming at him, Norman stood and watched as the stars flew by, and a planet shoots by, and another. And once Norman realized the cube had stopped moving entirely, he vomited and s**t himself simultaneously, and the excrement dissolved out of the glass floor. He felt the cube release a nutrient rich gas and he breathed in his nourishment, the airborne vitamins and minerals sucked up his nose like a black hole.

         Once he had calmed down he stared outside the cube at the black ocean. He expected the tide to splash an offering, give him something, vomit something out of the depths of the ocean of space, for Norman knew he was no longer alone. He felt the telekinetic presence of life nearby, and his brain tickled when his eyes settled on the cube that floated towards him like a very patient bullet.

 

Author's Note

Bam!

Reviews

[Miyank]

Interesting Indeed, a strong competitive piece.

[Chadvonswan]

Thanks for reading !!

[BethIsRad]

This is a really cool story. I think it would make an awesome novel. A few grammar and spelling mistakes, but nothing that couldn`t be easily edited. Not much to say other than Great Job!

[Chadvonswan]

Hah Im glad you think that. I thought the same thing--it doesn't fit into a short story, it would work better as a novel. But who has time to write a novel right now? I could only do it if I cloned myself

[BethIsRad]

Work at it little by little. If you truly love something then you can make time for it. I would love to read more. :)

[ambernaylor]

great job!...............

[Sami Khalil]

Splendid...:).................

[OctaBrain]

I like this a lot. Seriously, the only thing i don't like is that it's not finished.

[Chadvonswan]

Thank you, really appreciate it!

[ZackOfBridge]

Oh thank god! I thought this was finished when I got to the end and I was pissed, glad to know that you are going to follow up with it. This was real interesting

[Chadvonswan]

Thanks Puents! I appreciate you reviewing all of my tales..

[Mother_Yolk]

Oh wow... This is so interesting! Man, I love it...

[Chadvonswan]

Appreciate the commentary MamaYolk !

[Lifeofbennard]

Amazing. Truly.
Norman reeds? Like Norman reedus? Haha.
Bravo though.
If you have time you should review some of my work :P
Good day to you