PART ONE

ONE

1

We spoke in hushed voices, between us there was that blissful sense of danger and reverence, as we made plans for the voyage ahead. We had chosen to meet in the dead of night, our spirits coming together over the quiet flow of the Cam, not far out from that famous city of study, Cambridge. There were six of us, transparent figures huddled tight together in the small rowing boat, oars pulled in, our voices soft as we spoke in whispers which echoed the breezes that guided our boat.
The voyage had long been planned, our mirth hardly quietened before we had forgotten our intentions, yet now we were setting off and I could hear in the others' voices the same fear as lay within my own thoughts. The voyage would take us far and wide, set many strange and wonderful visions before our eyes, but none, surely, that would cause us horror. We were set upon discovering the gay Pastoral lands where men had chosen ostrich-like to lower their heads, live, and live again despite the pressure others' want of recognition brought. I think we all wondered then at that fear we could taste in our mouths, all wondered at the tension in the air. It brought to mind another outing, men in a small boat moving up river, men who didn't know what it was that drew them forward till it was much too late, till they discovered they had embraced pure and shameless horror. Our eyes met through the darkness, the nervousness there in the meeting, our voices pushing on, nothing actually stated, spelt out, but an agreement made. We were to go on.

2

We had headed out into these tame wilds under the firm conviction that any sighting in such surroundings would provide a worthy victim, and surely one not too exhausting. Hours passed, our fingers tapping out the waiting, nothing was said, nobody turned pained eyes upon their companions. The reason being that I had long been quite alone, deserted in the early hours, even before the break of dawn. I was determined to drag myself through to the end, not let the silent, cold misery of life dampen my resolve. It was I, then, that made the sighting, and I, alone, who laughed in memory at Chambers' ludicrous introduction. He had no respect for human kind, his the sort of contempt that led to guilt, and as surely led him to fearfulness, and finally in hasty discomfort to be gone. I shan't waste time in explaining the motives of the others, not just yet at any rate, if time and space allow some species of explanation may be given.
'He' came towards the bank, his head bent forward, a frown for a face, and stared down at the boat. Of course, he couldn't see me, that I knew well enough, still it worried at me, forced me to take to the air, soar upward and away like a startled sparrow. It was his form frozen there upon the bank, his motionless staring after the boat, that brought me back to rest my feet upon the bank at his side. This man was too timid to reach out, pull the boat in to the bank. It could have been managed with ease, and a morning of free boating his for the taking, instead he stood and watched as the boat drifted out of his reach. I closed my eyes and reached out about myself trying to sense if one of my companions had chosen to remain, let my thoughts stream outward far and wide. I was alone. I had to decide whether to go on alone or skulk back to join them and reward their shame with a still greater example. I stepped hastily, perhaps exaggeratedly so, within this man, and just as quickly retreated. I had been caught within a sudden glare of images, all for which I was utterly unprepared. Expecting some pleasant meandering thoughts of a dull Sunday nature, expecting to find little difference between his momentum and my own, I was smashed as though through mountainous waves, blinded by his thoughts as though by a terrible glare of lights. I hoped I had learned a lesson, hoped never to experience the like again. I stood there beside him wondering at what I had experienced, quite unable to remember any image, make sense of it at all. It was as though I had caught a glimpse, ten frames or so, of some nightmarish film, and foolishly had turned toward the projecter rather than the screen. I would accompany this man some way before making any further attempt to enter his body.
I was altogether unattentive considering everything, taken quite by surprise when he stopped, sat upon the grass, finally stretching back and laying his head upon the ground. He stayed in that pose for an age, simply staring up at the heavens, seemingly spellbound by beauty. All I could see was the blueness of the sky. I had to kick myself into liveliness, heard the unkind laughter of companions at my back, after all, wasn't this the type of thing we had idly sought to uncover. I got down beside the victim, crouched on the grass, felt a womanly desire to complain to him of the dampness, instead edged closer and closer till I was near enough to merge my head slightly within his own. All the while I kept myself tensed to pull back and away, the first experience enough to teach me well, but this time I was to receive no avalanche of light as I played peek-a-boo inside his mind. All in all it was pleasant enough, crouched there over him I felt like a girlish lover, and all within was quiet, flooded with passive calm, a glow of green warmth reaching upward to the blueness of the sky. I felt the sunlight upon his face, felt his silent pleasure at the sensation. I had arrived. This was my first sighting. I let out a gail of laughter, lay fully within him, my sudden movement causing him to tremble, and I made a mental note to be less impulsive in future. He took it to be part of his body's shared delight in the glory of the day, took a deep breath and calmed once more. I don't know how long we stayed there, all I know is that it was bliss.