Reading: "CATACLYSMAL" (A.Glass 2017). New book due August 2023. Title and Cover Art soon.

 

“Fucking freezing,” Elly Jansky says to herself, wrapped in a blanket as she walks towards the kitchen tabletop where she has placed her cellphone. Coughing, she picks up the phone. Checking for messages, the first message she sees is from her colleague Micheal Reddy.

“Hey Elly, let me know what you discussed with Ivane. We have some news conferences coming up soon. Thanks. Micheal.”

Jansky types back a returned message.

“I have the flu, feeling pretty bad. Just flew in two hours ago. Seen Doctor, says must rest. Have calculations for DEVs. Tori says they are not a natural phenomenon. Equations check out. Not wormholes or dark matter. Possible structure. Will call in a few hours or so.”

Looking over several other messages, she ignores all except the one from her sister. Jansky taps the message to open it.

“Mom is having her second session of chemotherapy. Doctors say if this goes well her chances will improve. How was Europe? Love, Katy”

Jansky quickly types back.

“I will call you soon, I think we both should go and see mom in next few days. I'll let you know. Caught flu...Air travel the world-wide incubator for viruses :)

Love, Janks.”

Coughing, Jansky walks towards her lounge chair, sitting down, she folds her legs up and pulls the blanket closer to herself. She places the cellphone down onto the small coffee table, setting the phone to silent. She closes her eyes. Jansky's thoughts become delirious. Wonderful, I hate that song yet can recite all the lyrics. Always found that strange, fever induced memories of songs which I don't like. My head. She leans forward despite the coldness of an influenza induced fever, she also feels her temperature increase as her immune system fights the paramyxovirus. Jansky rests her forehead on her right palm. It feels hot, sweaty. The geometric Space-time equations, its maths, calculations. A wormhole, it's gotta be a wormhole. Jansky coughs again. Leaning her head back onto the headrest of the lounge chair. Her eyes are still shut. Despite the frenetic thought patterns, Jansky focuses on the meeting she had with Professor Ivane Tori two days ago in Rome, Italy.

He's wrong, it's a wormhole, natural phenomenon, small Black Hole shrinking, a visible photon sphere...But the shaped spherical cone. Structure? Remnants of a rare cosmological event...Remnants. Jansky opens her eyes. She gets up, leaving the blanket on her lounge chair, feeling feverish. Walking to the open kitchen she pours a glass of water, also breaking open the silver wrap of an aspirin tablet. She looks at the glass of water, the clear fluid encased in the glass. Holding the glass of water above her, she angles the glass so that the light fitting appears distorted within the elongated tubular shape.

Placing the tablet in her mouth, she sips the water. Jansky thinks back to her hotel room in Rome, when she woke up feeling unwell after that recurring dream. It wasn't that she was hung over, more so it was the onset of influenza. “Now it's really hitting hard,” Jansky says to her self. Walking back to the lounge chair she sits down, leaning back, looking up at the ceiling. He's right, the first part of equations. It's correct. And I'm also right, without the equations. The assumption, that this structure is an unnatural object. Jansky looks at her cellphone. Not well enough to make the call just yet. Pulling up the blanket she closes her eyes. An overwhelming sense of tiredness weighs on her. She falls asleep.

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Reading:  "CATACLYSMAL"  (A.Glass 2017)

New book due August 2023.  Title and Cover Art soon.