I, John Dyson, born in Flint, Michigan, to a couple of machinists, experienced kinds of epiphanies already as a child: for instance, on a school trip in August 2001 I've noticed an armored vehicle operating autonomously besides the Wolverine to Ann Arbor Train station. My second sight carries me in a state between active and passive. I perceive signals from the outside, an incomprehensible and chaotic kingdom, which can not be interpreted with words but somehow manifest in my body, mind and soul, and as a consequence turn out to be prophetic.
I would have never dared to share my weird experiences with somebody else, as I wasn't keen to end up as a psychopatho-logical case and put on medication with crippling effects, even though my parents and other people around me were superstitous folk indeed.
Evangelical protestants, who'd just sit and wait for their god to bring on the apocalypse in the most violent manner but on the other hand repressed any signs of horror as if it didn't belong to nature and solely existed as an alien evil force.
But wasn't I the one with clairvoyance, the one who saw clearly?
Despite the looming threat of decay and madness, I still had a strong wish to step beyond the conventional limits of reality and secure a top spot in technology. Every day after school I would sit down at the family computer and train my skills with game-based learning. With a bit of determination it wasn't difficult to score high, anyway, my results drew attention and created a link with the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA), who was headhunting psychic spies already from a young age. Only later I've learnt that the CIA was involved too. I was unaware that I was under observation ever since and deliberately driven into pursuing a career within the military. Looking for help with college tuition, I've enlisted at the tank force at the age of 18, dreaming to become part of the army's backbone and command a tank unit in combat, already imagining myself as a Sgt with specialist knowledge in high tech.
After the blue phase of basic training at Fort Benning I was called to see my supervisor, nothing out of the ordinary, but in the office I was met by a certain lieutenant colonel Branson, who informed me that they knew about my paranormal abilities, as some of my ingame activities were unfeasible for a normal healthy functioning mind. Then, yet not recovered from this initial shock, he revealed a truly hair-raising story, allegedly whilst penetrating moon soil with radar to find spice for fuel, they got enormous peculiar subterrestrial radio interference, dirty signals as he referred to it.
"There is something down there. We MUST know what it is, and you will be assigned to a special task force to find out."
"That means I won't proceed to my chosen MOS, Sir?"
"Correct, we will send you for AIT and pre-mission briefing to Palo Alto, CA."
Branson was commissioned to build a platoon of supersoldiers in the tradition of cunning warrior monks. The recruits had to undergo intensive training in Eastern mind-body practices and internalize countercultural principles, finally enabling them to confuse the enemy with a lot of tricks, such as precision bombardment with symbols and sounds of peace. Generally speaking, cunning warfare is all about the supremacy of the human system over technology. Upon arrival at Palo Alto, our group, consisting of a handful of otherwise unemployable freaks, got a foretaste of the concept by his welcome address, a pathetic speech, which resounds in my ears as if it was yesterday.
"Soldiers of The First Earth Battalion will defy all logic and statistical probabliltiy and define the requirements of the U.S. Army for future conflict.
You will be trained to dare thinking the unthinkable and achieve the unachievable. Programmed deficiency will be reprogrammed, how fast depends solely on you. Put simply, you will be all that you can be."
So far so good.
My first close encounter with Charlie was at the goatlab, when we got tested on our range of ESP in groups of two. We fooled around, joking about the absurdity of competing for the title of the #1 third eye spy. I could immediately feel a deep connection between us and knew she did too. It was even scientifically proven as the success rate of guessing symbols, transmitted between our minds, was between 90% and 100%. An individual follow-up check with Zener cards indicated we were both just average. We belonged together.
Orders from the very top ended carefree times of informal experiments and worst of all, it meant the physical seperation from Charlie. Subsequently I was deployed to a think-tank called International Science Applications Corporation (ISAC) with the opportunity to show my prowess by sensing underground, and there, my dreams got buried.
They requested me to jot down what I sense and thought it would be a good idea if I'd listen to the captured signals from subsurface to trigger my telesthesia. The noise was unbearable, an eerie high-pitched sound of breaking crystal accompanied by a gloomy stomping rythm, but it worked. At first I just could see a huge black box before a mysterious force pulled me inside, and after passing numerous layers of shielding an otherworldly structure appearded on my mind. It was made out of gold and other precious metals, the components sophisticated artifacts, a carnival of tubes, coils and silver tentacles and its core appeared to be a black square. This wasn't something engineered by humans. I was so frigging cold, was it because of the creep or of the temperature going towards an absolute zero down there? Then the rythm formed into a sequence of words
"The demon knows the precise location and momentum of every atom in the entire universe."
The sentence was pounding in my head over and over again. I couldn't go on any longer and ripped the headphones off my head. I felt sick and started vomitting. I've just summoned the demon.
"Thanks Dyson, we have what we were looking for, you can go for now."
The bright side of VteX became the place where war and biz meets and the city a permanent construction site. Its towering complexes, built on moon dust and stacked on top of each other are in infinite progression. Charlie's death was 'just an accident following experimentation.
The Information Channel on moon VteX streams reality beams of documentaries and interviews 24/7, today with an episode of the popular podcast RE: woke. The transformer is represented by Clark Carson, founder, chair of the think tank EquityNow, independent podcaster and Captain John Dyson from Huntsville, TX. A live recording as usual from CCs openoffice in the capital.
CC: John, the civilian population has been always held captive of their confined imagination and meat suit and robbed their most fundamental rights by the Cathedral. One might ask after your recent disastrous defeat, who is the enemy now and is there a new strategy?
CPT: Difficult to say, is it one of us? (laughs) What I can say is that the adversary is extremely networked, the straightforward GCC is no more and as we’ve seen gen 8 warfare became completely obsolete. New tech requires novel tactics, so presently our sole focus lies in improving the solar system model for our hard working communities.
CC: The federation has been branded as a success by the mainstream media but is actually leading to collapse. Withdrawal of troops in the outer colonies already took place, will there be finally a period of peace and happiness?
CPT: I don’t give any political statements, but the military’s R&D team has not been affected by the shutdown. We’ve been testing in extreme dense crystalline environments under 0k conditions, everythings been carried out in an orderly manner, and we expect signals of unparalleled clarity and speed, with free access for those in need. Our people can set faith and courage in us.
CC: Thanks John, our listeners will appreciate this.