The Harmony Project

The head of operations was finely dressed. He led Klinda down the vast corridors that led to the inner sanctum of the most important facility in this dimension of the universe. Klinda was tense with resolve. Hers was not pleasant task.

Here we are. The vault of dreams, the head of operations said with a grin as he allowed the scanners to probe him and entered the security codes. The twenty foot door clicked and slowly opened. They entered a room filled with holoscreens and computer read-outs. Klinda fingered the vial in her pocket. They were very close.

The elevator was small and sleek. As it descended Klinda’s eyes grew wide as they gazed through the glass door panel. The rows upon rows of various sized pods filled the host chamber.

It took several thousand years (Harmony Project Standard Time) for us to find a solution to the deterioration of our dimension of reality, the head of operations lectured. We had known for a long time that there were psychic building blocks helping to stabilize the raw energies of the universe, but nobody realized for the longest time that these psychic forces could be harnessed by utilizing sleeping sentients. We are very excited to have your people’s support. If we do not receive new hosts soon, reality may begin to deteriorate and unwind once again. Even the ground on which we stand at this moment is held together by the fabric of the joint dream woven by the hosts here in the inner sanctum. Is that not a most beautiful thought?

Intelligent life from across the galaxy had been gathered to serve as hosts. Of course, Kilnda knew this already. I am quite pleased to be the first of my people to serve the Harmony Project, Klinda lied. It is very lucky that my people’s brain patterns are compatible with the other creatures serving as hosts here. Our physiology in most other ways is so very different from other creatures’.

The elevator stopped. Ah, here we are. Follow me, quipped the head of operations. Klinda’s hand began to twitch as her footsteps echoed through the vast crypt of dreaming hosts. She was in the beating heart of the universe.

They reached a pod exactly like all the others but with an interior suited to hold a spindly Vihze body like hers. I hope you find your quarters suitable, said the head of operations. I’m sure I will, Klinda solemnly responded as she crawled into small, metal coffin. The door sealed shut over her. She reached into her pocket, grabbed the vial, and popped off out the stopper. She would have one and only one chance. If she failed, the opportunity would probably not rise again for any other. If she failed she would have to endure the immense torture of mindlock and dream fracture for the rest of her life. The Vihze were very long lived.

She waited for the light to change from green to blue. She waited while spidery metal legs pulled the cap down over head that would soon be cutting it open. She waited as tiny needles injected fluids into the bottoms of her feet.

The light changed. She felt a sharp pain on the back of her neck as she swallowed the contents of the vial. As the last few drops fell on her tongue a surge of electricity shot threw her body. The vial shattered as her jaws snapped down. The head of operations cursed as the pod jerked and fizzled. Klinda was killed instantly.

The virus that had been transferred from Klinda’s vial to the Harmony Project super computer as she drank, functioned as planned. The encoded fluid began to make its way from pod to pod, Forcibly killing each host in turn. Massive plasma eruptions lit the entire chamber with pulsing green patterns. Those who lived in Klinda’s dimension of the universe witnessed a pulsing of white light and gravitational forces the moment before they ceased to exist. Those who dwelt in other dimensions experienced a mild feeling of déjà-vu or perhaps a slight sensation of vertigo, provided they possessed some peculiarity of sensitivity.

Somewhere on Earth a child dreams of chewing broken glass.