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Maze of Starlit Paths
Color-changing Concepts
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PHASE 1
Falling Modularity
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Isla stared blankly at the brick bridge that led from the heart of downtown Glass Heights to one of the city’s developed islands - Emerald Island, the jewel of the Navigation River.
Misty orange light pollution hung above the city, eerie and dissonant. Just beyond the bridge, the island’s buildings- built in the modern glass style that characterized much of the (aptly named) city- glowed amongst the darkness of the luscious plant life that populated the (also aptly named) island. Even at 3 in the morning, the island showed signs of life; portions of the nearly transparent glass buildings were awash with light and distant flashes of movement. The shopping district in the center of the island was faintly visible as colorful neon lights and moving traffic.
I envy their auspicious reasons for being awake at this bleak hour.
It was a strange view - the juxtaposition of technology and nature. She found herself appreciating it in spite of herself.
A scene worth appreciating; the kind of sight for which you drop the past and future to step into the present - just for one brief, ethereal moment.
Emphasis on the word ‘brief’.
Sometimes I wish I could stretch moments like this into infinity, but I think I’d actually hate that too.
Isla drew her focus back to the present. The bridge’s well-lit walkway stood still and silent in the streetlights. Light glittered in Isla’s long black (highlighted with neon red
and blue) hair. A sense of terror hung in the back of her mind - harsh white noise that kept her thoughts in a straight and narrow path.
When did terror become my defining state?
A sense of a vast emotional burden came over her; the answer occurred to her the moment she asked it of herself.
Isla began walking without engaging with the answer.
There is a time and place for navel-gazing. It’s not now.
A large, glowing screen hung from a brick archway in the center of the bridge. The shifting light from the video bounced around, peppering Isla’s surroundings with flashes of dancing light. Isla paused as her university’s familiar logo- a glass house with Saturn behind it bookended by three stars on either side- splashed across the screen. The university’s slogan phased into existence in cyan letters beneath the logo. “Ad astra per scientiam.”
Glass Heights University is the only one that rents this mystic board.
Isla felt a small twinge of- dissonant?- feelings as the glittering Saturn Tower flashed across the screen - feelings so miniscule against her sense of numbness that they may not have existed at all.
On the illuminated screen, varying groups of humans and mythics stood in different rooms filled with scientific and mystical instruments - clearly the staff of different labs in Saturn Tower. Isla recognized about a third of the labs that flashed across the big screen.
An electric feeling of sharp emotional pain- nearly indistinguishable from physical pain- shot through her chest as her lab flashed across the screen. Dr. Ersatz was
smiling near the front of the shot. A neuraic brain map hovered to the side of him, glowing different shades of neon red.
Isla was in the back of the video, turning from a small glowing model of the brain to smile in the direction of the camera. Isla recognized the moment from the previous academic year.
I had no idea what was happening then.
Isla watched as one of her lab’s primary investigators, Dr. Cohen, began to explain their lab’s research.
“We study consciousness here in Saturn Tower’s lab 708,” said the tan, freckled woman. Her hair was dirty blond and naturally curly. “We are a part of the university’s basic science program in the College of Neuro-scifantasies.”
Scifantasy, the juxtaposition of science and magick. The methodical study of reality using an empirical application of magick-or-mundane means.
Numbness began to take hold inside of Isla once more.
Isla walked past the archway holding the screen as Dr. Cohen began to give a layperson's summary of how they used complex aetherics to understand the brain.
I’m going to scream if I have to look at Dr. Ersatz again.
“...and then we used a two-step atomistrual process to map the functional and anatomical dimensions of the brain…” continued Dr. Cohen, her voice receding in the distance as Isla walked progressively farther away.
“I probably don’t need an education on my own lab,” said Isla softly to herself as the sound from the illuminated board echoed behind her.
As Isla approached the end of the bridge, she stopped to take in her surroundings. Towering glass buildings and mostly-unlit houses stood still and silent in front of her. Dark trees and bushes shifted and creaked slightly in the night’s warm breeze. A bright central district glowed distantly down the street; faraway noise and the smell of grilled food emanated from that direction.
The iridescent-blond hair and innocent, soft face of her childhood friend, Pearl, flashed inside her mind.
What a funny time to think of Pearl.
But it wasn’t, not really - Isla had been thinking of Pearl a lot lately. It wasn’t really surprising that she would think of her now, even though the two had never been in Glass Heights together. They had spent many nights together talking the hours away - talking about anything and everything.
Isla stepped off the bridge and cut sharply to the right. A barely visible dirt path took Isla down a steep hill along the edge of the Navigation River- covered by the darkness of trees on both sides of the path- before depositing her at a stone platform that looked out at the river.
The platform appeared to be old; the stone it was composed of was smooth from years of wear. Two picnic benches sat underneath a stone gazebo; behind the gazebo, a metal staircase wound up a tree-covered hill. Saturn Tower stood radiantly at the top of the hill, lights dancing in a minority of its windows despite the late hour. Jupiter Tower, an almost identical tower that housed the applied sciences departments, glowed across the street - partially visible behind Saturn Tower.
Such a beautiful display.
Isla leaned against the stone railing at the bottom of the platform. She stared darkly out at the river, lost in the orange-gray light pollution above the city. She felt herself slightly untense as she focused on the feeling of the water-tinged breeze on her skin.
A subtle noise brought Isla out of her trance. She turned to find her colleague, Iori, emerging from the riverside path on the opposite side of the platform. Isla found herself politely smiling at the familiar sight of her co-worker; the expression was automatic, mechanistic - as though it were another day at work.
“Hey, Iori,” said Isla in a calm tone that was at odds with how hollow she felt inside. “Is anyone else with you?”
“I aerobiked out here, so I’m probably the last to get here,” said Iori, slightly out of breath. “I’m alone.”
Isla took a moment to appreciate her colleague’s bioluminescent markings.
Iori was an orxeinamph: a type of creature that resembled an anthropomorphic tiger. They had dark fur and bioluminescent tiger-stripe markings. They had a third eye in the center of their forehead that was bioluminescent. Iori’s markings were highly saturated purples, greens, cyans, and blues. Her two conventional tiger-like eyes were fluorescent purple; her third eye was neon seafoam-cyan. Orxei were not common in Glass Heights - or anywhere else in Isla’s world. They hailed from an adjacent reality.
In contrast to Iori, the most colorful aspect of Isla’s appearance were the red and blue highlights in her hair, makeup, and clothing - all artificial accents. Isla’s personal sense of fashion compelled her to pair bright red together with bright blue.
“I don’t think we’re being paranoid,” said Iori. Isla froze, slightly taken aback by the sudden honesty. “I know I said that last time we all met, but I really don’t think that.”
“We don’t really know what’s happening,” Isla said. She smiled at her bioluminescent colleague. “I hope we leave here tonight feeling embarrassed that we suspected something.”
I’m such a bland person. These are such bland things to say in response to someone trying to alter your mind.
“At the same time, I can’t think of a good reason why anyone would perform moraim on someone,” said Iori. Isla laughed nervously, the sound slightly manic; Iori’s statement was putting it lightly.
Moraim, the magick of consciousness - of psychology. A poetic form of magick for a psychiatrist to use.
“I can’t either,” replied Isla.
Iori looked like she was going to say something; she made a motion as if to reach into her bag.
“I am not very good at this world’s common forms of magick. It is not something that is used like this where I come from. But I do know how to do some things that are like magick - things that are not common but not impossible here.”
A sense of curiosity warmed Isla internally as she listened to Iori speak about her native dimension. For a moment, it was almost as though she were simply enjoying a pleasant warm night with a colleague.
“I have always been fascinated by Liquid Gardens,” said Isla, referring to Iori’s home reality. “It is one of the first alternate realities we learn about in extradimensions class.”
“Liquid Gardens is a beautiful name; I have always loved the English name for it,” said Iori. “We call it Aitzeirii.”
Iori withdrew a glass sphere from her backpack. Three layers of colored metallic liquid split into five columns swirled inside, occasionally flowing into each other. There was no apparent way to open the sphere; it was perfectly round and smooth.
Iori held the sphere above her head. Distant city lights and the nearby LED lanterns that lit the path flashed inside the swirling liquids inside the sphere. Without warning, the liquids fell apart- atomized- before reforming as an inexact replica of Saturn Tower.
“We analyze and manipulate the reality around ourselves - through itself. It is called rai miist. It means ‘world knowing,’” explained Iori as a soft mist of different colors began to float in different parts of the model.
“That reminds me of conduit magick,” said Isla. Iori nodded.
“The two are similar and have a lot of overlap with each other,” replied Iori.
Iori gestured at the model. Isla noticed veins of gray that ran through parts of the tower. To Isla’s fascination, they radiated a gray glow. Isla did not think she had ever seen gray-colored light - as far as she was aware, gray light was not physically possible sans magickal means.
“Light has a slightly different character in my world,” said Iori as she followed Isla’s gaze to the currents of gray pulsing through the model. “The gray currents are
very, very interesting. They represent magick of a type that I have not anticipated and thus not coded into the rai miist model’s expectations.”
“Fascinating. Then what about the other colors?” asked Isla as she gestured towards the spectrum of colors that flowed through the model. The colors had a curious quality to them - they were able to radiate pure colors that were not normally physically possible. Some of the colored streams emitted pure pastel or dark variants of normal colors; others radiated colors that were normally optical illusions in her world created by mixing other colors and ocular perception quirks - like pink.
“Anything that is a lighter color is low level magick; nothing that would concern us. That would be things like Dr. Ellis aerobiking directly onto his office balcony when he comes and goes from work, or if someone used magick to heat a cup of coffee,” explained Iori. “The darker colors represent complex magick that is related to expected lab operations. I trained the model on a print-out of the current on-going experiments, so that’s how it was able to determine what complex magicks “should” be present.”
Isla nodded as she glanced at the threads of dark and pastel colors that were woven throughout the tower.
“The model can differentiate between spontaneous, animated, and mechanistic magick,” continued Iori.
Spontaneous magick was a broad category; it referred to magick that was generated by the living nature of reality itself, or by “accidental” and otherwise not consciously intended means. Animated magick was magick that was consciously executed by a sentient being. Mechanistic magick was confined to an artificial construct
- magickal technologies. There was a fourth type of magick - cognit magick, or magick that had developed a sense of awareness and consciousness.
“The normal colors are just as interesting as the gray colors - this is complex magick that is not in line with what we would expect in a workspace with predictable research activities.”
Isla immediately noticed that the first floor of the basement and the fifth, seventh, and ninth floors were awash with highly saturated colors - they stood out next to the other twenty-five levels that were mostly filled with pastel and dark light. The first and sixth floors had a moderate level of activity that was not as egregious, but also stood out to Isla. Purple was one of the main colors that flowed through the rooms that composed their office as well as a few nearby offices; blue and red were also common.
The mysterious gray is common in the same places.
“Our floor has much more activity on it than the others,” said Iori. “Now here is what you will find very interesting - purple is coded to catch traces of moraim, blue is trained to detect imenspae, and red denotes the presence of lusqur.”
Isla looked at Iori with alarm.
Imenspae was the formal name for dimensional magick. There were many sub-branches within - dimension crossing, dimensional warping, reality creation, alternate universe detection, and so on. This was a fairly common albeit high-powered and complex form of magick. Lusqur referred to magick that possessed a criminal element. It was a broad category of magick.
“How did you train it to detect those things? Imenspae, that’s no problem, but the other two are so rare and so hard to find an example of.”
“I don’t have access to a high quality example of lusqur,” said Iori. “I trained it by concept and art.”
“So that part of it may not be accurate,” mused Isla as she stared down at the glowing red colors in the model. Concept and art referred to the practice of training mystical models on a description of something, or through an artistic depiction of something.
Basically, she trained the model on detective shows.
“This is a time-series model; I have had it running for the last two weeks. In other words, I can see hour-by-hour trends,” explained Iori as she moved her hand near the model. The threads of color rapidly moved, formed, and re-formed as she went backwards in time; the time and date hovered in ghostly numerals to the side of the model. “I have also seen the red appear on the ninth floor and the first basement level.”
“Lusqur is a broad category of magick,” remarked Isla as she looked down at the glowing red colors.
“There are many things to fear within it,” replied Iori.
And then, there is the issue of the gray-colored magick…
They reached a lull in conversation. The two women looked down at the model in silence. After a few minutes, Isla broke her gaze away from the model and turned to face the staircase that led to Saturn Tower.
“Let’s see if the others are waiting for us farther up the path,” said Isla. Iori nodded, her large turquoise eyes radiating soft light in the dark. Iori stashed her model inside of her backpack.
The metal stairs wound between two landings with benches midway up the hill. Two young women came into view as Isla stepped up to the first of the landings. The platform was not visible to those outside of the landing because of the surrounding trees. Bright white light emanated from round lanterns that stood at the four corners.
“Sybil, Laurie,” said Isla in a pseudo-cheerful voice to her colleagues.
It’s just another day at the office.
Iori nodded to them. Sybil was tall with striking auburn hair; Laurie was much shorter with pale blond hair. Despite being opposites in appearance, the two co-workers were actually good friends outside of work.
They quickly exchanged pleasantries.
“So, are we ready?” asked Laurie. There was a kind of determination and energy to Laurie; Isla found it envious. In comparison, she felt distant, numb, and out of it.
“I guess so,” said Sybil. “As ready as anyone can be.”
The four women stood silently in the late night darkness without moving - in spite of their stated readiness. Moths hovered around the lamps at the edge of the platform. The leaves on the trees and bushes rustled against each other. The crickets chirped endlessly in the darkness.
“I know you guys don’t think this is that serious. You can’t imagine Ersatz doing this-” started Sybil without preamble.
“I can imagine him doing this,” said Isla. “I just don’t understand why he would.”
“Still, it’s highly abnormal to use moraim. It’s associated with a lot of deeply evil things. Seeing it come up at all - we should all be thinking about this very, very seriously,” continued Sybil.
“I definitely am taking this seriously,” said Isla quietly. “I’m just numb to the reality of it all right now. I have no doubt you are right.”
Another period of silence.
“I’m more worried about moving onto the next part of the plan: what we do if there’s nothing to find here. Our next steps are a lot riskier than this one. We are actually, like, legally allowed to be in the office; we can’t exactly just walk into his house and look around there, too,” said Isla.
“Let’s go through his office quickly and get home,” said Sybil. “We can talk about that later.”
I’m going to go home if we stand here in silence again.
“Let’s get on with it, then,” said Isla.
The group of intrepid co-workers began their ascent up the dark metal path that led to the back entrance to Saturn Tower. Isla could not help but feel an eerie awe at her surroundings - the path was almost completely ensconced in trees; the path lamplights cast complex shadows around them as they made their way up. Swaths of the Navigation River and Glass Heights visible through gaps in the leaves added to the atmosphere.
The smooth stone balcony that led to the back entrance of Saturn Tower was obscured until they ascended to the very top of the metal stairs. As they entered the balcony, they were immediately confronted with the sight of two of their colleagues: Karen and Lisa. They were both short, pale women. Karen was an international student from Seoul with a preference for pastel pink clothing and personal effects. Lisa had
long, straight black hair and porcelain white skin and was, as usual, dressed in pure black clothing with a red accent.
Behind them was the night security guard and one of the janitors; Isla had never spoken to them before because she was so rarely in the building after five PM. The security guard was a type of mythical entity that resembled a large black and orange centaur based on a panther - a daerodisp. The janitor was a scruffy man who appeared to be in his mid to late 40’s.
Is this place always so active late at night - and I just never noticed?
“Karen, Lisa,” said Isla cheerily as she mechanically slipped into her work mindset. “Lovely night for science, huh?”
Are these normal hours?
Isla almost wanted to laugh at her prior assumption that they would not encounter anyone during their mission.
“I’m Isla,” said Isla with an energetic false cheeriness to the other two. “I’ve seen the two of you around but I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.”
“Hello, I’m Ken,” said the daerodisp, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Beryl,” said the scruffy man. He nodded and smiled at Isla and her group.
Karen looked at Isla and her group just slightly more intensely than Isla expected. Ken and Beryl shifted slightly behind her. Lisa ran a hand through her long hair.
“Long night for you guys too, huh?” asked Lisa. Her voice had its usual slightly aloof tone.
“Yes,” said Isla as she looked over towards the back entrance to Saturn Tower; the glass doors glinted in the light of the balcony’s large rhombus-shaped lanterns. “We have to do QC on the neurystal before launch next week.”
“We were just heading home. The Phelms Report dataset wasn’t coded properly, so we had to recode it,” said Lisa. Isla, too numb and anxious to immediately think of a response, stood and stared at Lisa.
This is a very normal conversational pause.
Realistically, though, I probably appear tired since it’s almost four in the morning.
“Ah, recoding data,” said Isla finally.
“Yes,” agreed Lisa.
Another pause.
“Well, take care,” said Iori bluntly as she moved forward and entered the tower. Isla and the rest of her group entered behind her, mumbling their goodbyes as they scrambled after their more terse colleague.
The back entrance lobby was lit with the building’s usual late-night lights. They were dimmer than the early night lighting, which shut off at ten PM, but not so dim that it was not easy to navigate the room. Minimalist tables made of black wood filled the first third of the room; the rest was taken up by soft couches, chairs, and coffee tables. The artificial fireplace in the marble wall was unlit.
Isla glanced back at Ken and the others outside to find they had already gone back to talking amongst themselves. Based on body language, it looked like Lisa was about to break away from the group and leave.
They briskly cleared the lobby and headed for the intersecting hallway that contained the elevators. As they turned the corner, the two elevators came into view a quarter of the way down the hall. Isla moved ahead of the group.
Let’s get this over with.
The faster we start, the faster we leave.
“Where should we check first when we get to the office?” asked Laurie.
“I always imagined starting in his office. I don’t imagine he would put something important in a public space,” replied Sybil.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t bother with the public areas we normally have access to,” said Iori. “But all of this hinges on the assumption that his wife isn’t involved.”
“Why is that?” asked Laurie.
“Because it would be safest to keep anything incriminating close by in his house - but only if she was also involved,” said Sybil, her voice slightly weary as though her statement should be obvious.
“I can think of some reasons why he might keep it here even if she’s involved or knows about - whatever it is he’s doing, like maybe he. . .”
Comprehension of Laurie’s voice faded from Isla’s attention as she reached out to press the up arrow. As the arrow glowed red beneath her finger, the rest of the world around her dissolved into checkerboard patterns.
Isla whirled around to find herself trapped in a matrix of glowing squares. Her colleagues were no longer around her. She went to step out into the checkerboard maze only to find her legs impossibly heavy and imprecise. She staggered forward a few paces before falling to her knees.
A rush of vertigo knocked her down on the floor as her vision shrank to a point - and then faded altogether.
***
A large blue castle immediately drew Isla’s attention; the structure stood menacingly tall in the distance on the other side of the island. From Isla’s vantage point at the top of a hill made of smooth pebbles, she could see rolling hills of trees and rocks leading to the castle. There was no path in sight, but she could make out -
Are those beds?
Everywhere Isla looked, there were beds laying unattended in the forest. Metal bed frames, ripped up mattresses, and old blankets littered the area. Many of the functional beds were perfectly made with luscious comforters and pillows. Some of them had pastel-colored stuffed toys stacked in towers on top of them. After she noticed the nearby beds, she began to make out the distant shapes of beds as far as she could see into the forest.
The roaring sound of water prompted her to turn around. A vast ocean and pure white beach immediately filled her vision.
Where was I just before?
Isla found that she could not remember. It seemed important that she remember. She bit her lip as she tried to remember - anything.
Who am I?
Isla turned back to stare at the castle, her crescent brown eyes wide on her pale face. She found a completely different setting standing in the castle’s place: she was now staring down the dim tunnels in the second basement level of Saturn Tower. They
were dark, damp, and lit by red low-energy lights. The floor was made of the same metal grating as the hillside path. The evening sky above her was replaced with pipes and wires criss-crossing over the stone ceiling.
The sunny island was completely gone - to the extent that Isla could barely even recall its existence when she tried to think back.
Who am I?
Who are you? That’s a profound question, remarked Dr. Ersatz.
“Dr. Ersatz?” called Isla as she wildly spun around, searching for the origin of the voice. The island was back again; the orange sky and clouds whirled around in the periphery of her vision as she frantically ran along the beach in search of the speaker, her steps loudly crunching on the smooth stones.
She quickly found that she was completely alone on the rocky beach.
Am I hallucinating?
Are you?
Isla realized that the voice was originating from inside of her mind. Yet, it sounded clear, crisp, and loud - as though someone standing right next to her had said it.
What are you doing at the office so late at night, kitty?
Isla fought the urge to hyperventilate; the smug voice that she could not remove from her head was so disturbing, so violating.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
What is it that I’m doing?
Isla turned to the forest that stretched between the beach and the large blue castle. As she turned, she found herself in the basement hallway again. In the distance, she could see Ken sprawled on the ground of a larger room.
“Ken?” called Isla as she ran towards him. He got to his two pairs of feet.
“Isla,” he replied. “I have to tell you this quickly or it will go away.”
“What?” asked Isla. “What is it?”
“If you keep running down the hallway, you get farther each time,” he said.
He took off at a leap down the hall on the other side of the room from where she had entered. Isla chased after him. The hallway went down at a diagonal slant; the lights shifted from red to neon orange, matching Ken’s jaguar-esque markings.
The world shifted slightly; Ken and Isla fell forward into a partially submerged room. Isla stood up and looked around, soaking wet. She could hear Ken behind her.
“Ken,” she said, turning to look at him. He was gone, and so was the flooded basement.
A clearing was in front of her with a perfectly made bed. Pastel pink dog stuffies and large soft teddy bears sat on top of the star patterned silk comforter.
What is it that I’m doing to you?
Isla went to look behind her, automatically searching for the loud voice. She stopped herself mid-turn. Her surroundings stopped mid-shift. On one side of her was the forest with beds; the other half was the basement hallway.
What is it?
I don’t know.
A strange otherworldly glow began to settle over both sides of her vision. Isla could not describe the color. A strange humming noise filled the clearing, melodic, dissonant, and strange.
Why are you here so late at night?
I don’t remember.
Mist began to fill Isla’s vision until she could not see more than a foot in front of her. She felt a force tug her backwards; she felt a sensation of flipping in a circle.
You don’t even know who you are.
***
What are you doing here, so late at night?
The voice of Dr. Ersatz echoed in the back of Isla’s mind as she found herself in her lab’s storage area in the first basement level of Saturn Tower. Isla felt cognitively altered. A cold sense of disorientation pressed against the back of her eyes. A metallic, unnatural feeling warped the edges of her thoughts. A thin fog hung in the air.
Just as quickly as she had noticed her cognitive alteration, it vanished along with the fog.
Turning in place, she scanned the room. The room’s ceiling lights were on; most of the main lights in the building were motion-activated. Isla paused, momentarily frightened, as she noticed she was not alone in the room. Iori was staring blankly ahead, seated on a particularly loud couch that was patterned in bright orange, purple, and green psychedelic patterns.
Isla quickly located Laurie after a quick walk around the room; Laurie was standing statue-still in the hallway just outside the door. Sybil was slightly harder to find - she was curled under the desk in a ball. All of them had the same blank stare.
Sharp, cut-up thoughts like broken glass; the elements of memory shattered, rushing against her mind like a blinding snow -
Suddenly, Isla was standing before a black and white landscape. White mountains lay jagged against a pure black sky speckled with white stars. A city of black and white castles spanned before her, ending in an endless white desert.
“Sybil?” called Isla softly as she shook her co-worker’s shoulder. Her rust colored hair dully shined as it shifted in the dim yellow light. Isla tried clapping in front of her face, but Sybil continued to show no reaction to the outside world.
Just as Isla was about to give up rousing Sybil to try one of the others, Sybil’s head suddenly moved. Her eyes focused intensely on Isla's.
“It happened again,” said Sybil. A look of abject despair came over her face.
A sudden shout prompted Isla to reflexively stand up and search for the source of the noise. In a slight, two-second delay, she realized the sound was Iori’s voice.
“Dr. Ersatz has done it again,” said Iori shrilly, her expression suddenly animating into one of rage. She whirled wildly around, her eyes darting across the entirety of the room and back again. She rushed out into the hallway where she collided with Laurie.
“He’s here, and we’re going to confront him,” shouted Iori. She stopped to look around the dim hallway before taking off at a run; the motion sensor lights lit up in a trail before her as she barreled down the hall.