Proving True

In early exploration of module K, I found a storage room for my second office/hideout. Today I push the stuff in it, mostly furniture, to one side and turn it into a micro-dojo to practice my shrakas since I can’t attend class. I don’t have any mats, per se, but a few tarps that are in here can be folded and stacked to provide minimal cushioning for falls and rolls. On a whim, I pull my perCom from my pocket and thumb up Master Kreq’s icon.

“Hello, Sonia,” his face beams at me from the two inch screen. “I’m happy to hear from you, how have you been?”

“Hello, Master, I suppose I’m doing as well as can be expected. I miss being in the dojo.”

“Perhaps we can arrange for some two-way holography so you can attend in proxy. Mitra and Shawna would probably like that as well,” he suggests.

Why didn’t I think of that? “That would be very helpful in breaking the…confinement we find ourselves in. Have you a few minutes?”

“I’m due on shift in about an hour, what’s on your mind?”

“Teleportation,” I tell him. We spend almost the entire hour talking about teleportation, its practice, risks and possibilities. I keep him talking until he has to break the connection to sign in to work. I took copious notes while he was explaining what to and what not to do. He was most emphatic about one thing: no amulet. Not yet, it’s an amplifier and I need to learn to handle this skill on a small level before I try it on a big one. Fortunately, that’s not an issue as I left it in the safe in my stateroom. After breaking the connection, I sit cross-legged on one of the mats, steadying my breathing and my thoughts. My gaze focuses on the wall across from me. I close my eyes, feeling my breathing and my heartbeat slow. I imagine myself no longer where I am, but sitting on the mat about two meters closer to the wall. I imagine myself dissolving from here and reassembling there. I open my eyes, and I’m where I expect to be, two meters from where I sat. I look over my shoulder to see the mat where I’d been sitting, the impressions of my behind and feet disappear as the folded tarp recovers from the sudden absence of my weight.

I can’t help myself, I throw myself into a backwards roll and come to my feet. Then dance around clapping my hands and feet just like Gorb did when I met him. I’m ecstatic, but in the back of my mind I hear Uncle Angus say, “Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn from time to time.” So I set about doing it again. I resume my seated posture, facing the direction of where I started and repeat the process. And perform another teleport without incident. I go back and forth several times and decide to mix things up a bit. I sit facing starboard and imagine myself facing port when I…what’s it called when you arrive from a teleportation, “materialization?” Too bulky, I’ll go with “arrive”…arrive. In my engineer’s mind this should be harder as I’m rotating myself a half circle between departure and arrival. But in practice, there’s no difference. Which after I think about it makes sense; I’m disassembling myself and reassembling myself in the blink of an eye. Is changing which way I’m facing any harder? I do that a half dozen times as well. I’m starting to get tired and my rational mind tells me I should stop, but my adventurous spirit wants me to try one more variant. I sit on the mat again and dematerialize as I have been, but when I arrive by the door, I’m standing with my hand reaching for the knob. I draw my hand back almost in shock. Nothing feels out of place, but I run my hands over my gi anyway, just to verify that the material is not interwoven with my skin at any point. I’m pleased, but not surprised, to learn that I appear to be whole. My adventurous spirit is yelling, “Again, again!” but it’s shouted down by my rational mind and my flagging energy levels which are both saying, “Sleep.” By the time I get back to my bunk, it’s all I can do to untie the knot of my belt before falling across my cot and into a deep slumber.