cowlark.com

My Diary, 2002-11-14

I got up this morning intending to climb through the hills, to investigate the buildings there, explore the woodlands, find that lake, etc. Instead I discovered that yesterday's trek around the island had left me extremely stiff and with sore feet.

So, instead I wandered down to the beach. From the general shape, I reckon that the island started life as a mountain that got colonised by coral. The shore appears to be alternate shell-sand beaches and rocky outcrops. The beaches are excellent, but I've always found beaches rather dull, so I examined the rock pools instead. The sea life here is interesting and quite unlike Earth's, but that's not important, so I'll skip over that.

For lunch I visited the orchard. After picking a completely spherical, large purple fruit, I decided to pay a visit to the Invisible Fountain, which was nearby. I was wondering if there was some relationship between it and the Generator.

One of the things I did was to try and look at the Generator through the disturbance caused by the Fountain. As the Generator was the other side of the island and quite high up, I had to crouch down and get into the right position to see it through the Fountain; at one stage I was in this position, backing away from the Fountain, and suddenly discovered I had backed through a door in a nearby building, which had opened for me.

The building was a simple white pyramid, ten metres high or so, with no windows and a single black-glass door. There were several, dotted evenly around the island. I had no clue as to what they were for.

I turned round and looked at the interior. It contained a single large room, almost entirely filled with another pyramid. The glossy-white walls glowed gently and illuminated it. This pyramid was made of a dull silver metal, covered everywhere with markings and indentations and a silver filigree of wire. It was completely silent.

Slowly, I walked around it. On the side to the left of the one facing the door, there was a spot that was glowing gently. It had the same cold, silent light of an LED, but the spot was about the size of my hand and blue and green swirls moved across it slowly.

I raised my hand to touch it, but I thought about touching equally innocent-looking bus-bars at a power station on Earth, and changed my mind.

When I got back to the door it had closed, and there was no handle.

I spent about an hour trying to open the door, purple fruit forgotten. I felt around the edge (it was recessed slightly into the wall). I touched all around the outside of the door-frame (the glossy-white walls were, as usual, hard and featureless). I ran my hands over the door itself (ditto). I peered through it (it was made of black-glass, which block most light but not all of it. I could just see the Fountain, outside).

Eventually I picked up the fruit, ate it ---- a meaty, purple pulp, very satisfying ---- and tried to think. As I saw it, there were three options. A: it was a trap. B: the door was on a timer. C: I opened the door somehow without meaning to.

If A, then I was doomed, so there was no point worrying about it. If B, I just had to stay here and wait for the door to open. If C...

What was I doing when the door opened? I was walking backwards.

I walked backwards into the door. It didn't open.

I tried some other things, like walking backwards hunched over, but they didn't work, either. I sat down again.

Eventually it occurred to me: when I went through the door, I didn't know it was open.

So I tried an old trick I knew. I stood, facing away from the door, as close to the machine as possible. I closed my eyes, put my fingers in my ears, and started shuffling by minute increments backwards.

The idea was to confuse my kinaesthetic sense. I used to do similar things when I was a child: with your eyes closed, extend your arm towards a wall with small enough increments and eventually you get the illusion that your arm is extending through the wall.

It worked. After a little while I suddenly felt a breath of air on my back and heard the surf; I turned round, saw the door open, and leapt through.

I lay on the grass, and thought about doors that only opened when you weren't aware of them, and the dictaphone, which only recorded when you wanted it to, and the ship, which knew when you were talking to it...

The rest of the afternoon was spent experimenting with the door, and I soon found out the secret: they only opened when you wanted them to. Or rather, when you expected them to.

Walk up to a door. Look at it. It's a door. It's closed. Fiddle with it. It'll stay closed. You see it as a closed door, whatever machine is reading your mind sees that you see it as a closed door, and it'll stay closed.

Walk up to a door. Walk at it briskly. Want it to open. Expect it to get out of your way. It will.

I had got through the first time because I hadn't remembered about the building behind me, and so was expecting to keep walking backwards, so the door opened. I got out again because, while I was expecting to be brought short by the door at any moment, I didn't know when it was going to happen, so I tricked it into opening.

It turned out there was a particular mental attitude I could do that made doors open. It was easier to do if you were walking at them, but I quickly found myself able to stand by a closed door, want it open, and it would open. I amused myself for a while by opening and closing the pyramid door, and watching the neat way that it would fold itself into the door frame in several asymmetrical pieces.

By this time it was getting quite late. I dashed over to the Hotel, stood by the door, and wanted with all my might.

The door opened.

Inside was a small room lined with more doors. In the centre of the room was a pedestal, with a black-glass surface, completely inert. The evening light shone dimly through the windows.

None of the doors would open, no matter how hard I wanted them to. The pedestal was completely unresponsive.

I left thoughtfully, heading back to the orchard for supper (another purple thing. The diet of constant fruit was already beginning to disagree with me. I didn't have any magic buckets, but I did have a flat rock and the ground was soft, so I was digging holes). I now knew a way into the buildings... there had to be something interesting in there somewhere.

Oh, yeah, the dictaphone spent all night and all day transmitting. I think the only time it can transmit successfully is the early evening.

Let's see if I can find somewhere better to sleep tomorrow, shall we?

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