Into the blue

Here is the world as it is. The world of unfair imperfection, troubles and inventions, questions and buzz word rhetoric. I am stranded in the aftermath of the accident. I fit myself in , here in the remains of my wrecked space craft, I sit and observe. The city is cranky and steaming. It’s foreign and far away and I am an interloper. I guess they know I’m here. They’ve  seen the crash on far away screens or monitoring devices, they’ve mobilised, they are on their way. The horizon is a dull distance away, over the head of the city. I’m in an area, maybe waste land, I’m aware of distant traffic and activity. Beads of light and flurry but I can’t understand the scale. Perhaps I’m injured, perhaps my brain has been affected. The trauma, the shock. Perhaps my straight thinking is not so straight. I feel I’m falling asleep.

Now I waken, on my back, lights and voices, the smell of … chemicals. I’m restrained, bolted down. Ready for inspection or repair. The slow terror begins to claw at me, here, on a table, lost and injured and under observation. I black out as the hands draw themselves around me, investigating, hopefully healing behind the terror I’m falling back into.

Next I’m roused, water on my face, or liquid or something. My eyes open. I’m in a wide dark space, starved of light. Movement and activity, small noises but no communication. Fear and terror bites into me again. There are no restrains, I’m free from pain, I move, slowly. The light is coming on. Figures approach, vague and cloaked, human like and expressionless. An arm is stretched out, a hand beckons and I rise and follow. No pain, just some hangover and apprehension and I step out as a light from somewhere, all around dawns.

I look across, through a vast open door, there is the city, steaming still and hot. Distant and by the direction I’m shepherded in clearly not where I’m going. I’m set in some vehicle, faces and controls are hidden, no words. I stutter a few things, clear my throat but I feel that talk is not expected or necessary. The vehicle is fast and smooth and there I am back at my space craft. The hatch prised open and, as far as I can see repairs have been done. I’m directed in and with that forgotten snap, last heard on  Earth some time ago, the hatches closes behind me I’m suddenly alone. I stagger and cry. I look around, everywhere all at once. I’m alone.

In the control room, the cockpit the lights and gauges shine. The meters show green, greener than ever. Timed and primed. A big hand has repaired thing.  Another technology has stretched out over the ship, cloaked and clothed and energised the dead carcass. I sit and consider the instrumental message. I seem to have no choice. All is primed, fuelled and ready to go. The system’s calculations done and expressed and ready for me to read. I wonder where I am in time. I look across and see the auto system kicking in. My journey is not mine, it’s theirs. They aim me, prime me and fire me. Out into the black cosmos and watery grey spiralling gas. Suns and planets circle in my head. New explorations and happy trails into the blue. I go without knowing anything. Lost and manipulated like a human cannonball , they crank up my flight , my hidden trajectory  and I’m gone. They are watching. Perhaps they always were.