2312

Quantum Walk (3)

on the edge of the marsh the frogs croak the fecundity schedule concerns how often and when during life one procreates and how many offspring morphogenesis is the process by which an organism creates itself growth curves with a time lag results in oscillating patterns the predators always a quarter cycle behind the prey

these new humans are taking you to be destroyed fat gun in your face commanded to walk between them away from your helpers out there on the Jersey shore Manhattan skyscrapers topping the east horizon on the run on the hunt

kick the gun and run humans hilariously slow on the uptake dash into cinder shadows of dun brake duck and turn jump a creek green meadow crumpled with moss pads were Persian carpets ever green?

almost stride directly into another person looks human

I need help some people just mugged me and I think they’re still after me

human stares at you pure blue iris marbled by a darker blue come with me then

off on a path human stops, points white-tailed deer frozen in place ears facing them a febrile temperament they’re back the human says

You say Would you like to play chess?

Human says Sure come on

To a little shack another human already there they talk in the kitchen go outside at sunset the red on the hill taketh away my will needles on the conifers prick silver deciduous leaves flush on their western sides a moment comes when a distant streetlight casts a glow against the sunset and a space of light is set up without shadow exceptionally clear and articulate to the sight there’s a fox at the edge of a clearing flowing through weeds russet and white the propagule rain falling both ways from Earth to space then back again a symbiogenesis lifting both blue of sky slightly veiled by white transparencies

Swan it’s Zasha from inside the house I’ve got a thing here a chess player it seems kind of confused

black birds banner back to town land in a tree on the horizon black dots flopping lazily getting settled at end of day

birdcalls talking to each other maybe fifty birds of various kinds making a sonic sphere it’s all together that make it music the continuo is the hum of the cars trucks generators engines motors a jet so big it looks nearby its sound far behind it in the sky bird chorus at sunset surcharge and overlap civilization in the open air avian wisdom conserved in archaic parts of brain not apparently programmable a leap of the imagination

near midnight a third human arrives tall graceful Hi Zasha what’s up

introductions hail the reality of the other namasté I salute the spirit within you

I’m Swan tell me about yourself

summarize events since coming to consciousness shoved out the door into the street departure from Venus transport by humans in a private system land on Earth all began as part of an attempt to end the eclipse on Venus not immediately but as a project to be enacted safely hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul ignorant of details of plan helpers somehow actually against the larger project helpers arrested or kidnapped forced departure mention of being put down escape

Swan looks at Zasha those fuckers are treating them like qubes

Well? Zasha says What do you call them? Qubanoids? Qubans?

Qubans is good I say they’re like Pauline remember it was a qube that drove the A-Tay-Ha right into that pebble mob killed itself for us did its duty I mean I like the inspector as much as anyone which is quite a lot despite all but I feel no need to agree on every issue this is just crazy

Jean just thinks we need to hit the reset button a little

You never get to do that! life doesn’t work that way I’m going to take this one with me

Swan

Don’t you try to stop me! standing quickly fist pulled back to strike

Zasha both hands up Stop stop I don’t disagree for once just maybe you might have it right that’s why I called you up till now I was helping to track these things down so when I heard this one got away I went out and hauled it back in it was easy they’re credulous but then I called you I called you

That’s my Z we’ll leave at dawn

Zasha shaking head You and your strays here you are doing it again fuck every time you come out here

Hey you’re the one who asked me here you wanted my help you wanted me to do this

Yeah yeah gowan wicha getoutahere

The breaking of the day addedth to my degree if any ask me how artist who drew me so must tell

Hope is a bird the birds quieter at break of day sleepier cheerful at what the light portends a breeze throws waves through the parlor of the dawn

Follow Swan to a car off to a dock where a public ferry awaits all the faces dense with life eyes looking inward to other times past or future or watching the day like you

Across the broad river in spate water surface closely scalloped by the wind creased by wakes bubbly cross chop the round bow of the ferry skidding on the tide crashes gulps the broken water slides ahead Manhattan left to right before them a cliff made by people sunrise has not yet topped it long shadows over the river slowly grumble into the slip a giant vise that grips the ferry and rocks it still

Out with the people onto a platform out between tall buildings canals below long thin boats 52 boats visible 423 people in morning shadow busy day already

What do you think? Swan asks Can you pass? Will you be all right?

41 boats visible 364 people we are the birds that stay

I’ll be all right

Good off with you then

the human kisses you on the mouth click of eyeteeth jolts you both suddenly awake to the reality of the other look in the eye maple irises left eye marked with a bottom arc of blue Do good go