Within the Cynosure

Within the Cynosure

She had not heard from Rachael – had not expected to (if she were to be honest). Rachael – source true – would not be judgemental or dismissive, though she might Whisper with heartache. She had been away before – in the days when she wore the title Creator Balbus with pride. She had the left the Now previously for durations that were not countable in revolutions and always Rachael was there welcoming her home with grace. Immersed in the canvas, in the two, three and sometimes multiple dimension creations for which she was famed, Rachael would surface and be fully present after her time at the Cynosure.

Cynosure: It was more than a facility. In one of the first journal exposés, which was intended to illustrate their work (more publicly), the writer referred to it as a compound once … but that was quickly dismissed by the Echelon as not only inaccurate, but derogatory. What was the Cynosure? She mused the question as she rode the mag-rail back through the Polis.

Even from the east side of the Polis, the exterior rings of the Cynosure shone in the suns’ ascension. But those earthen protrusions were a poor indication of the megalith to which it was rooted. An elliptical, organic conduit that ran for a length undreamed of before the Mirkle. The energy that it produced was mind boggling. At one time such ideas as cold fusion energy generation seemed the stuff of fantasy: most who worked at the Cynosure now knew that such fantasy had simply become commonplace.

The Mag-Rail

The Mag-Rail

But what was once miracle or the supranatural had … in her opinion … also dulled most Creators’ ability to wonder … which – let’s face it she chuckled to herself – was central to their work. It was this revelation that was her catalyst to make the change that had just ended …

The Cynosure, however, was much more than an energy generating facility. The energy was simply one manifestation – no, more pointedly, one outcome – of the work that had been done there for so long that some used language dressed in ‘time immemorial’ or antiquated metaphor of a mystical memory when Avatars appeared to guide them from ignorance to awakening.

Regardless of the stories, most accepted truth revolved around the reality that the Cynosure was the first academy of learning. The place when the question of the physical relationship between the known organic and crystalline structures (in which they walked and breathed) and the hypothesised dream of living metal began. It was important to begin to answer the questions – most Mentors taught – or else their species, which too often was tied to the capricious winds, would never be able to nest permanently.

As the mag-rail began its silent, magnetised, deceleration she looked back at the Polis. The protective domed-barrier of shimmering porous metallised energy was the fruition of the dream. Finally, they could nest and with such stability they had begun to further peel back the looms’ questions that bound physical reality and temporal potential. It all began at the Cynosure and she was now returning at a behest that left no room for insubordination. Something was waiting, she felt it – Winged it – and what that meant filled her with dread … worry … concern … awe … ?

Something was waiting, she felt it – Winged it – and what that meant filled her with dread … worry … concern … awe … ?

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