TheNeverPages Serialisation
Series 4, Episode 5

TheNeverPages - Series 4, Episode 5

Tesla Entry.

Previous entry did not delete. Not yet anyway.

On ridge now. Mutant town behind me. LHC gateway compound below. The Ouroboros-like Hadron ring that circles the crater floor has changed. It is no longer made of gleaming steel. It seems to have dulled somewhat, perhaps aged slightly. It does not reflect light and therefore, it must be said, does not capture the imagination anymore. It just looks like a functional necessity now.

But Mother Motherland, miracle of miracles, remains untouched! She is still powerful, still inspiring and her sword remains held aloft with the red beacon flashing atop its point. Dear God, how I am in love with Mother Motherland now, seeing her here like this, stern and brave. To be certain, I viewed her through the periscope – no change either! Truly she is an anchor for all realities and how that fills my heart!

I am about to descend the ridge and inspect the LHC pipeline’s one thousand kilometre circumference. I will inspect a portion and then tomorrow inspect another and soon gather an aggregate idea of its entirety. I may even try and find a hatch that lets me inside. No idea when Stage Three Firing will occur, that’s a chance I will have to take.

Paisley is under instructions to remain here on the ridge. He will obey because he is a good dog. As soon as I commanded it, he sat down and became as still as a statue, only his eyeball moved, alertly scanning the horizon. Good guard dog indeed. I descend.

Difficult descent. The terrain has become like a mountain range tilted upon its axis. It dips and spikes in an angry fashion. It is extremely hard not to fall, or twist an ankle. The jagged rocks have melted and fused together, pulled by the LHC’s powers. They are treacherous rocks. I scraped my hands, back and face on my way down. Ascension will be near impossible.

New discovery: gravity within the crater has altered slightly. Upon descending, I dislodged a rock and it slowly fell, bending towards the LHC pipeline as if it were magnetized by it. The rock landed two-foot from the base (which in fact is a hundred-foot from the wall). Therefore, there seems to be a ninety-eight foot gravitational drift. To test, I dislodged another rock and dropped it.

I counted the time of descent. I estimated myself to be two-hundred foot from the crater’s floor. The rock should have taken approximately five seconds to hit the ground. It took eight. Terminal velocity has stretched.


Climbed down and inspected a full two kilometre section of the LHC pipeline. From ground level, the pipe appears even more monstrous. It is far taller and far wider than I imagined. I can see that the steel is, indeed, distressed. It is covered with grease marks, oil stains and its structural integrity has been compromised. Its outer layer is buckled, notched and stricken. The LHC Firings have clearly taken their toll. I wonder how much more can this pipeline take? What if, during a Stage Firing, it accidentally breaches? What then?

I closely inspected the outer-casing and found a thin purple residue coating it. Of course, it was the same residue that I have on the left side of my body although the skin of the pipeline seems to be impervious to this residue’s talent for erasure. I used my sleeve to wipe away a portion of the grime coating the pipeline. I saw insignias and symbols photo-etched into the pipe - tiny murals like a great tapestry all over it. Engravings of ferris wheels on fire, of gyro-copters and dirigibles falling from the sky. Men with the faces of pigs dancing on clouds of fire. The intricate delicacy of the work was staggering. I cannot comprehend the time it must have taken to coat the entire LHC pipeline in this vast, sprawling pictogram. Who did it? From the section I uncovered, I did not find either end or beginning of the engraving which suggests that it does, indeed, cover the entire thousand kilometre circumference of the pipe. The scale of the work makes me nauseous. And of course, it is battered, scarred and mistreated. This art work has gone unnoticed. This labour uncared for. It makes me nauseous for the scale, and sad for the artist.


Now standing on top of the LHC pipeline. I managed to scramble up the ridge-face, high enough to see the top of the pipe. I pocketed the journal and leapt from the ridge wall onto the top of the pipe. It was a great distance to leap, considering the size and curvature of the pipe. The apex standing a good hundred-foot from the ridge wall, thus making the radius of the pipe one-hundred foot and its diameter two-hundred foot. It was an impossible leap but I remembered the gravitational shift I had witnessed in my falling rock experiment and trusted in my maths. I was sure the gravitational dilation would carry me safely over the distance and onto the top of the pipe. I was not wrong. I sailed over the distance easily and landed like a ballerina.

The roof of the pipe has a flat, grated walkway presumably used for servicing. I can see a hatch ahead.


Inside LHC Pipeline. From the hatchway I found a ladder attached to the interior wall. It was difficult to descend that inverted parabolic ladder and the periscope nearly fell of its latch. Managed to climb down, though.

On the ground there is a walkway wide enough to drive vehicles down which, I assume, is necessary for maintenance. I cannot see any carts or carriages and no workers either. Abandoned. The middle of the pipe houses the Collider Tube which is an inner pipeline in which particles are hurled at catastrophic speeds until they slam into each other. This is how realities are brought together. Not by folding, but by smashing. The Collider Tube is transparent and inside I can see floating globules of liquid. Wonderful globes of green, violet and purple. There is no gravity within and the balls gently collide, merge and break apart. The Collider Tube’s shell is cool to the touch, but nevertheless charged. I feel connected to it when I place my hand upon its sleek glass casing.


Curious to note - when I placed my right hand on Collider tube, nothing happened however, when I placed left hand (the hand coated in residue) upon it, the globules of liquid inside the Collider Tube were pulled towards me. They were instantly attracted to the residue on my disappearing arm. They fell flat against the inside of the tube and merged together to form a perfect sculpture of my hand. I was mesmerised. Before long, from farther down the Collider Tube floated more globules of colour, all attracted by my touch. They merged into each other and I saw a perfect copy of myself form within the tube. It started at my hand and then my arm grew back and, as more globules arrived, my shoulders and torso formed. Globules from the floor rose up to form my legs and they joined my torso. Lastly, my head rose up. It looked at me – myriad of colours changing through the spectrum as it seemed to decipher who or what I was. I smiled at it and it smiled back. The colours then all assumed the same identity, that of a blood red hue. A burgundy head stared at me and smiled. I tilted my head, he tilted back. I was reminded of dear Paisley and his confusion and curiosity at his own shadow. I reached out and touched with my other hand. As soon as my ‘clean’ hand touched the Collider Tube, the liquid copy of me broke off our ‘connection’ and ‘he’ stepped back into the centre of his world. Slowly, he fell away breaking apart into his original component globules. They floated away, back to the turbulent chaos of zero gravity.

I am speechless. I cannot move. I am overwhelmed with beauty. Even as I write this I can sense the onset of rumbling. Stage Three Firing is about to commence and I am in the heart of the beast! I cannot move and I care not to. I am too awed and excited. Stage Firing intensifying.

This will be a ride!


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