by Charles Gulick
|North Position: 15303||Rudder: 32767|
|East Position: 6041||Ailerons: 32767|
|Altitude: 3392||Flaps: 0|
|Pitch: 0||Elevators: 32767 (IBM only)|
|Bank: 0||Elevators: 36863 (all except IBM)|
|Heading: 139||Time: 22:11|
|Airspeed: 118||Season: 3-Summer|
|Throttle: 21503||Wind: 8 Kts, 180|
phenomenon described below was
discovered by the author using Microsoft's Flight Simulator with an IBM
PC. It seems to have no counterpart in the SubLogic simulators, unless,
of course, you find one. Otherwise, find a friend with a Cessna so that
you can experience this adventure. -Editor
Strange apparition in the night sky. Don't touch the controls. Wait and see what develops from this transparent geodesic of the gods, this fantasia of devil's triangles.
See the fantastic transposition into gold. Sure enough, the devil is behind this celestial alchemy, this twisted travesty on reality. And what is the roseate river beyond the shape?
Now like a giant bug awaiting its prey. Now like a baited web to entrance and entrap. And again like the closing moments of a raging sunset on a lonely sand dune.
|Perhaps we are extremely far
from this entity. Indeed, a look out the
right front shows us what may be a giant space station that a ship has
lately left, with its fiery trail still suspended in the night sky.
|Watch the time carefully. We may
be in a time warp.
At 22:16 exactly, go into radar. Zoom out once, twice, three times. And three times more.
Yes, we are in a black something. We're not flying toward it, but are a part of it. We are, in fact, inside a pyramid. We have somehow entered it, and we are flying toward the other side. And it is infinitely more massive than it looks from inside. As for steepness, consider what your altimeter tells you.
Yet, when and how and where did we enter this strange abstraction? We seemed to be outside it and heading toward it, when suddenly it changed to its golden outline and turned inward on itself. And took us with it.
|Now back to out-the-windshield
and, yes, we are aiming for the stream
of light beyond the far wall of this translucent lunacy. To what? From
Is civilization out there ahead of us? Where the rose line streaks across the sky? And if so, what kind of civilization?
When the last vestige, the final fragment, of this structure you have passed through disappears off your windshield, I suggest you go no farther. Instead, at exactly 22:22:22, take a look behind you to confirm what you have done. Then abort. Exit to edit mode. Choose another mode. Shut down for the night. Something. But fly no farther.