From:             paul underhill
To:               marie_evelyn@eng.cam.ac.uk
Subject:          a dance with planets
Send reply to:    underhill@unios.un
Date sent:        Sun., September 23 -- 09:25:44
Status:           Confidential
Encrypt ion:       XLV-MorseBinary

Marie I don't know what to write. There is a numb stillness here... I feel like someone who's had a limb crushed in some terrible accident — seeing the damage, I still wait for the pain. My dear friend, what can I say? I'll write what happened: At about 10:30 AM GMT she called me to the quarters that she used as her room and asked me to help her suit up. I don't know why she asked me in particular — but she dismissed the three hovering staffers from Cape Town - Aujourdhui, who I'd only just met and two young comp-techies - closed the door and keyed it for "do not disturb." She told me that she wanted me to help coat her with the electrolytic paste for the suit. Then, quickly but with her usual blunt efficiency, she took off all her clothes. I remember noticing that her brassiere was torn at the back where it hooked together. I was embarrassed and looked down; it's simply been too long since we were lovers, and I felt uncomfortable with her nakedness. The room was warm, insulated, but my knowledge of the polar weather outside made me feel cold for her. She took a jar of blue paste from a bag and asked me to do her back. Then she surprised me by removing her hair. It was a wig, white streak and all! Her head was covered with a dark fuzz of hair only a few millimeters long. She smiled and said: "It's for the electrodes. For the AIVE suit." She started coating herself with the paste. Every area had to be coated. I guess it's blue because that way you can see where you've missed. I found it to be a disturbing experience, touching her intimately, but alienated by the blue goop and the strange context. I fancied that I could feel a restlessness in her body, but that may have been my projection, or the air of excitement pervading the whole dome area... When she was done she looked as wet and blue as Alexis did when she was born. I said "I ought to hold you upside-down and smack you to make you breathe and she grinned and said "They don't do that any more" and leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the mouth. Then she turned and took the suit from its stand and squeezed and tugged herself into it. It's a dark rubbery black, and made of a clingy rubbery-plastic stuff, but it's covered in golden circuitry so it has a bit of the quality of a tiger in negative. Not that she looked feline in it. She still looked strong, square, and structural, but with more of a stomach than she used to have. As she was dressing she told me about the suit. "There is a separate helmet with the VR goggles attached to it. What they are is two thin, transparent, ultra-high-resolution video screens, one for each eye. Look, " and she held them up to the light, "Together they give the illusion of binocular vision. The goggles can also let light through, so that the world is still visible." I looked through the goggles. It was about like using an ordinary pair of dark glasses. "There are induction speakers that are pressed up against these bones behind the ears here. They give sound. You can tell it from outside sound, but it seems just as real. And the suit itself is covered with sensors, feeling each movement of the body. There's a special concentration of them in the gloves. We use the sensors to communicate with Abie, with the computer. This means that reality can be edited, overlaid with whatever images come out of computer space. You could write your name in the air, using the glove, and see it, right there in front of you. It's a magic world." She put a glove on, tugging at the fingers, and I helped to splice the connectors together. I was aware of the intimacy of the moment, even though we were restricted to the rituals of getting her ready for meeting the Damned Thing. She opened a drawer and took out a small bottle of pills. "Brain stimulants." she said, and put two into her mouth. I raised an eyebrow. "No, not speed or something. Mixed for me by the very dean of Pharmacology at UWC. Crammed with wholesome vitamins and antihalucinogens. Try one?" "No thanks" "The suit narrow-beams and receives data from the golden antenna at the base of the spine here. It's all done with infra-red. I sometimes think that giving it a tail is a designer joke, but they tell me its really the smartest placement. Doesn't get in the way." She wiggled her bottom and the tail wagged. "The tail is new. The last suit had a wire umbilicus, but I kept tripping over it. The whole thing's heated to a comfortable temperature, and I've had the soles of the feet designed for the ice. Have you any idea how expensive these toys are?" and I said "Yes. I handle the budgets, remember." I had worked out by now that we were already in computer space. She started testing the suit, and I saw that there were infra-red scanners and receivers in the room, that we were being recorded. I have always admired Sophie's sense of self-documentation, and her act was holding up pretty well. "Can you talk to them?" I asked her, and pointed at an infra-red scanner. "Oh, yes. To him, actually. I call him Abie, it's a corruption of AIVE. Hello Abie. Hello wakes him up, but only my voice." and the room said "Hi, Sophie." The sound came out of the air, out of the whole room. When she was satisfied that everything was working, she said "OK Abie, we're going to the dome now." and the voice of the room said "See you there," and she took her helmet under her arm and walked out. Why had she asked for me in particular? I still can't tell you. "Old times' sake" doesn't make sense. There were people waiting outside, and an entourage gathered around her immediately. We went to the dome. There must have been about a hundred people there, all waiting for some big moment. She stood in the doorway with the helmet under her arm, her head blue with a stubble of hair. "I want all non-essential staff cleared please. I've asked for video to be set up in the canteen, and people who want to know what's going on can watch from there. That means only the Cape Town crew and the operators stay. Oh, and committee members, of course." She smiled at Altmann. Then she put the helmet down and started a slow circuit of the dome, checking equipment, tugging at cables, tapping at keyboards. The people started to file out, until only the five Cape Town crew members and six operators were left. Ernst Altmann, Bevan Lacklustre, Carol Staghunter and I stood near the door. She turned to us: "Please sit down and get comfortable. This will take a while, and please remember that it's not a circus." I must say that I had been thinking precisely that: how well-orchestrated her act was. She put the helmet on and started waving her hands about and talking in a low voice to the throat mike. Then she came over to us and gave a little speech. She didn't lift the goggles and I had the impression that she was being prompted by something she'd already prepared. I have now found in the sound logging database a transcript of what she said - and here it is. I've also made a drawing that shows, at a high level, how she linked herself, the computers and the Object. It's rough, and there was much more mess and cabling.

Transcript of Dr. Sophia Zaar,
23 September 20-- 11:42 AM GMT

We're going to set up a feedback link with the Object. I'll be in charge of the operation; in this suit my entire body and sensorium become the Master Console. The computer environment, which we call Abie, will direct the holographic projector on the tracking arm, and so we'll be able to project symbols into the input space in direct response to high speed co-translation. What we'll do is use the computer space to translate instructions and language from me, turn them into holographic renditions of the Object's symbol set and project this into the input space. The difference is that we now have enough speed and enough computer kit around to render immediate translation possible. So, I'll be able to understand, and possibly respond in real time to, the output set that I hope to obtain. We'll start with simple stuff, like Carol's famous question, and move on from there.

We'll use holography and sound to simulate features of the virtual reality. That is to say, you'll be able to observe some of the "sea of data" in which I'll be immersed. I'll see more; menus, blips and so on, all of it stuff that I'll be using, and I may overlay various patterns and things that you won't get. I'll be able to talk to Abie, and he'll obey nobody else. If I want to speak to the Object, he'll do it for me. He and I'll translate together, with his whisper in my ear.

It's time to get on with it. Are there any questions?

There weren't any questions, and she got on with it.  She went and stood in the middle of 
the circle of exposed ice, around which the DT rotated once a day.  She started using the 
gloves, waving her hands; it was like someone conducting an orchestra. At that time the DT 
looked a bit like a Klein Bottle with its base rooted in the polar ice.  It was silvery and 
transparent at the same time, and I could see the place where the neck poked through the 
impossible hole.  As usual, the thing seemed immobile, absolutely static, even though I 
knew that it was traveling about 36 meters a day in its circular path.  I asked Carol how long 
it had held that particular shape and she said "About three hours now." The input and 
output tetrahedra were in either side of the "bottle's" bulged body. 

There was a noise at the door, the sound of shouting.  Her voice filled the dome, clear, but 
not loud: "What is it?" One of the guards said "It's professor Sambodhi, he wants..." and 
Sam's voice shouting "What the Hell!" 

She said "Well, let him in then," and walked from the ice circle towards the door.  The guard 
looked apprehensive and I heard Altmann mumble "Drunk again," but Sam looked more 
pissed off than pissed to me.  Sophie went right up to him and although we couldn't hear 
what he was saying, she left her speech channel on, broadcasting to the whole dome: "No, 
Sam.  I assert my right to disagree...  I will...  Listen, Abie will look after me.  He's the 
intermediary, and he'll sever all links immediately if I...  No, I can't let you do that...  All right, 
do what you like, as long as you  don't get in the way...  No, it's fine, I won't notice...  Sam, 
trust me.  Please...  Thank you...  Oh, shit I've been on the air."

Sam went over to where the computers were and heaved his squat body up onto one of the 
cases.  He settled down cross-legged, looking angry and serious. He was wearing a 
brocade robe over his down parka and looked like the Grand Panjanjarum.  In his one 
hand he had a strange dagger-like thing with three blades and in the other a shiny golden 
thingie, I don't know what to call it, in the other. They were clearly ritual ornaments but the 
guard must have taken the dagger for a weapon.  Sophie came back into the middle of the 
ice.  She stood still and looked at Sam, and they nodded at each other.  Then she got back 
to waving her hands and muttering. 

"Holo on," and the space around her lit up with tiers of transparent glowing symbols — 
letters, numbers, icons and a set of what looked like much magnified wiggling symbols 
from the DT. 

"Aux sound On" and we heard her breathing and, I think, her heartbeat faint in the air around 
us.  
"Symbol-set :Text.
"Domain: linkage.
"Sub domain diagnostic all system links check.
"Import this set please Abie" and her hand gestured in the field of light.
"Go" and the space around her lit up with wiggling holographic tokens.
"All right, Abie get this: Who am I?" Her hands moved. She touched two signs and they glowed more brightly. Her fingers wiggled on a virtual keyboard visible only to herself.
" Abie, tell it to her." and a thin bright green laser thread connected the tracking arm with the DT's input space. Two sparks glowed there, and then the output tetrahedron filled with wigglers. I was excited, even more so than when Carol had obtained a response: Sophie had caught her fish, and now she was going to reel it in! Altmann said "Ah." Everyone else was silent.

The shape of the Object changed. Always takes me by surprise. Didn't flow or merge - one moment it was the three-metre silvery Klein bottle, and the next it had the form of a weathered grey boulder, the laser beam still piercing one tetrahedral hollow, the other hollow still lit up with output. She was unfazed.

"Scan and download, Abie." and suddenly she was in the middle of a multicoloured snowstorm of glyphs, each about the size of a bumble-bee and made of light. She moved among them and we heard the sound of their shapes, and of the shape of Sophie moving among them. Strange sound; not music, but not noise either. "New stuff, definitely new stuff... ah... ah...." And then she started translating. Her translation of the output is the first one of this last bunch I'm sending you. See what you make of them. But the translation process was what got to me, event though I had some idea of what to expect. "... planet sign. Put it there. Hmmm... " She connected things to each other with threads of light. Glowing words in English began to scroll through the space in front of the stacked holo equipment. Then Sam started chanting. Enthroned on an XNN 340 computer cabinet, he stroked the three-bladed dagger with his right hand. As she moved among the light, his high-low voice began (and this is the transliteration transcribed:)

OM SO BA WA SHUD DHA SAR WA DHAR MA SO BHA WA SHUD DHO HANG OM SO BA WA SHUD DHA SAR WA DHAR MA SO BHA WA SHUD DHO HANG...
and so on and on and on....

She put her hand into a space in the English text which glowed deep indigo, and a thread 
connected it to a grouping of wigglers in the air on her right.  

"Isolate and amplify.  Abie, make music,"  and a complicated sound, a series of rhythms 
with overtones that approached but evaded harmony.  She started to move with the sound, 
the suit feeding her movements back into the music. 
"Phase me, Abie. Ah...  ah... this, it's a maze...  a labyrinth tangle twists and lost-getting.  And 
that one's its like the eating...  its fooding good-in-the-mouth energy, and this. .  its shitting 
dropping dumping leaving here's talking its loving ouching dying..."

She danced and mumbled, sang and twitched.  At one stage she took a single symbol and 
enlarged it, bigger and bigger, getting closer and closer: "Get this one again, Abie, I need 
more definition," and I could see that there were layers, hierarchies of order within the 
structure of the moving wiggler.  Like finding organs inside a strange animal, and cells in 
the organs, and organelles, groups of molecules...  

After about half an hour there was only one indigo gap left in the English text and she said 
"Right, that's enough for now.  Stow it Abie, and lets get another one.  Get this Abie: Who am I?
Tell her.  Now" and the space lit with symbols again, and she danced again.  This time it 
only took her fourteen minutes, and I could see that she was speeding up all the time. 


"OK, Abie, we're getting it hooked." She asked her question again, got another answer and 
translated.  The computer was picking Sam up, and I noticed bits of his chant scrolling up 
through the air in front of him.  I wondered if Sophie had put it there as a screen between the 
two of them.  My main memories of that experience are overlaid with the symbols of 
computer space. 

menu.gif - 57.81 K

The next interpretation took twelve minutes, and the one after that came out fairly clear with just eight minutes of tinkering. She grinned. "We're closing the gap, getting there. Soon be talking. Real time. Maybe five more. Let's go, Abie. Get this: Who are you? OK, transmit. Go. Do the entire sequence." The sound got louder and faster. I wonder now whether her excitement wasn't pushing her heartbeat up, and the heartbeat somehow cueing the whole thing. Then it gets confused. The whole space was full of squirming light, and she was moving more and more rapidly. The edges of everything in the dome seemed covered with rainbows. The sound got louder, or filled my attention more. I could hardly see Sophie among the holographic data storm around her. She got the seventh translation down in two and a half minutes. I could see sweat on her chin, virtually the only part of her exposed. Listening, I could hear that her breath was quick. The last ones took slightly over, and just under, a minute. Then she said: "We're ready, we're in real time. Abie, connect me directly to the input space,"...and the laser connected into the Object again. She started to mutter, I could hardly hear her. I think she may have taken sound off the air, or turned it right down. She walked right up to the output space. Twin lines of pale pink light came from the hollow, one into each lens of her goggles. She was absolutely static, silent. Slowly the images in the air winked out. Sam, too, became quiet. I don't know how long she stood there. Altmann said about two minutes, but I remember it as being much longer. Sam slowly got down from his perch on the computer and started to move onto the ice, towards her. The silence meant that the explosion, (or implosion, which it in fact was) caught us off guard. I must say that I almost shat myself. The noise ripped through the dome and echoed off the roof. And then, she wasn't there, and nor was the Object. The space where she'd been, the still-rigid helmet lying next to the dent in the ice where the Damned Thing had been. And nothing. And that's the end of it. The rest is speculation. Sentences starting with "It is thought" or "Possibly". She was there with it. It emitted beams of light into her eyes. Then she wasn't there, and nor was it. And the air, pressing into the space where the Object had been, squashing her body-space flat with its pressure, made a hell of a noise, but really had nothing to do with her: she had already gone.

Holoscreen dump

Naturally, we played back the recording-dumps of the whole event. Over and over. We'd had twelve recording devices ringed around the dome, linked into the computers, holoscanning all details in the dome. Only one anomaly emerged: there seemed to be a glimpse, a flicker of movement just before she winked out. We slowed it down and down. There simply wasn't enough time in those nanoseconds to truly show what happened. Cutler thinks that what we see happened before the implosion, that the implosion shook the recorders to show some sort of slippage, but there's no way of being sure. What the recordings show, in a time/space of exactly . 0023 seconds seems to be that she turns at ninety degrees to the plane of each recording device and strolls away, dwindling like someone moving off over the horizon. Each device shows her turning ninety degrees, which is to say in twelve different directions, one for each recorder. The computers can't put the thing together. Slowed down like this her stroll over the edge of the world looks jerky but leisurely, linked like an outrigger to the barge of the DT by pink lines of light. It takes less than three hundredths of a second. Then she's gone. The rest is confusion. I can't tell you more because nobody knows more. What do I feel, think? Well, I don't think she's dead, but I can't be sure. I don't think we'll see her again, but how can I be sure about that either? There's no clue, nowhere to look, nothing. Sam says he could have stopped her but he's not sure he should have, and also that he was too old and slow and drunk. He said something which I don't really follow: "You know what she did? She manifested the body of light. The body of light, Paul. A great practitioner, and I never suspected. Never. How could I?" I asked him, "Where is she now, then?" and he just shook his head and said, "Everywhere. Now that body is everywhere." I left him mumbling about "a great practitioner," and "A dancer with Dorje Phurba." Everyone is trying to be terribly nice to him, and excusing his strange behaviour on whatever grounds they can think up. I went to his room, and he was pissed and crying. Sat on his bed and held his hand for a long time. Here we are now, with all this junk around us, meaningless in the polar ice. The ice and wind are how I feel. I wish I could cry like Sam. My dear, what can I say? I wish I could hold you. I wish it hadn't happened. I'm sending you the last translations, make of them whatever you like. With love Paul Underhill


World Attachment 01: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 02: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 03: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 04: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 05: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 06: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 07: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 08: The Planet Earth
World Attachment 09: The Planet Earth

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