The Oracle Trilogy Book One Ohm's Node

The Imaginaries

part 1

chapter 9

Hello, my name is Gaia, and I want to invite everyone to help me. No longer do we need the ancient scribe cloistered in a dingy chamber wisely telling a few the secrets of the universe, at least to what was known then or independent thinkers to tell us that the Earth isn't flat or what's making us stick to my skin, is something called gravity. No longer do we need great writers to conjure up fantastical worlds or artists to render their brilliant works that reveal the true nature of a thing. Today my tribe, you can have it all. Of course, not at once but only at your call if I believe your message true in spirit.

My health is failing. If we all act together in unity, there's a good chance that we can change things. We won't just beseech you to listen or change or meet us halfway but will give you the necessary tools to not just survive but to make you, the direct influencers in creating a bridge to a beautiful me.

Gaia stood near a reflecting pond, appearing near indistinguishable from the lush tropical growth surrounding her. Her long tress of chestnut brown hair with golden highlights fanned out into the diversity of life, partially hidden by a shower of multicolored feathers from the many wingeds flitting through the understory. A concourse of her favorite makings stood nearby, perched on branches or poked their muzzles out of the underbrush.

In front of her was a large hazy sky portal defined by a fringe of large leaf vines which she grew in size with outstretched hand. Mist lifted showing an abandoned Warehouse lined with overfilled dumpsters except one. A small figure of a boy with baggy pants and an old sweat with WEATHER CHASERS on it, walked across the littered cracked parking lot up to the empty one except for a few clothes draped over the sides and before knocking three times, watched for any sign of life.

She spread out her arms, hands curled up to the portal, a crown of fruit glittering in a shaft of sunlight.

'Our first influencer is a young boy who has lost his father and gone from his bros gang for over a month. He's unsure if they are still there and if so whether they'll accept him back. Let's join them and watch how this boy and his friends became my first group of Guardians and growers of a Pod.

xxxxx

To say tension was roiling over bean bags and futons, around lamp shades embedded with local fauna and collapsed stacks of books impeding any attempt at natural movement within the small space of the their Incubator, did not even come close to what the actual fuck was sizzling through the space or so off the mark that it would lead one to think that the four in various poses of engaged wonderment, possibly in shock or feeling the sudden onset of nausea, could ever be on the same emotional page at the same time.

The late teen scruffs, the name for untethered kids with no one to call parent, sat stunned in one of the few still remaining high platform A-frames in one of the many quarantined flood zones in the western mountains of North Carolina.

Stunned at what they had been immersed in for a few weeks had just been given further proof that there was something definitely going on. The silence teased who would be first to put together a reasonable sentence.

They, The Imaginaries, young friend writers, had always known that they were onto something but could never get past the hypothetical, that is until now, waited for the other to begin.

'Okay, a free novel with more band width and now a free streaming feature with Gaia recruiting for her new Earth with supposedly kids already entrained into the story, and?'

'Dumpster kids.'

'Yeah, but the kids father worked for NOAA.'

The sudden shock wave, despite being or supposedly being fiction, had reinoculated their fertile imaginations to an uncontrolled wildfire that only anything close to consensus would slow them down.