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Day 8

Things is getting weirder by the day. Mass co-operative automation of the planet's resources I could cope with but the car starting first time AND going into reverse without screaming like a stuck zebra is too hot to handle. Still, I'm not complaining, just feels like someone or something or somewhat is giving me a helping hand. I'm really pushing my luck here but I'm gonna go for it anyway. I'm going to attempt to initialise the ICE. 3 sub woofers and a sub-pre-super amp it may have but has the radio ever worked…not a sausage out if it since the fateful day of its installation. Just keep one eye on the road, gently lean in the direction of the centre console …SWERVE violently to avoid the cyclist and thump the on switch into submission until the blue light comes on.


Arrgh, switch it off quick. The combination of radio1 with a high intensity propaganda beam interlaced in the frequency is just rude. Even with the radio off and the power control switch twitching on the back seat I can still hear the words in my head. Over and over. 'Communicate, Communicate, Communicate.'
Did I really hear that ?, it didn't even seem to come through my ears, more like from the perfect centre of my being. Like my entire existence in space and time became a solid form and resonated with a single message. A single message to a mass of induhviduals. More likely the result of a hazey headflash and nothing to worry about, probably. Just need to roll one and the rest of reality can go and sort itself out on it's own. Luckily there's a fresh pack of OCB's finest waving at me from the passenger seat. Must of picked 'em up during my recent close encounter of the newsagent kind.

At least the clock's not working, that really would be too much. It's showing 23:18 and it's full on sunshine daylight out here. In fact it's a bit too daytime. The sky's not even blue, it's closer to oil on water, like an expensive chrome effect paint job. Not easy on the eyes, hard to get a sense of any perspective as it keeps shifting, phasing, multiple hues from every angle.

Need direction, need purpose, need to get off this motorway, need a conveniently placed road sign to tell me that everything's OK and that I've only got 53 miles before the next sour services.

That's it, I know where I'm going now. A stroke of genius, flash of inspiration, or maybe the 50 foot luminous yellow sign

That was fast, 50 odd miles covered in the space of 3 heartbeats. Another thankyou to my extraperceptual benefactors I guess. Here we are, "WELCOME TO FLATWICK AIRPORT..your gateway is hell" It's all pretty calm though. There's a steady progression of motors climbing the 60's slipway to departures but none of the usual angst of course. Not any more, not since sometime last week probably. The difference is even more pronounced here though. Stop the car, park up wherever you like, there's no-one to give you any grief, everyone's just getting on with getting to where they're getting to. No armed police, no check-in, no passports, no queues, no metal detectors, I'm straight through each of the departure halls and there's not even the standard international airport sense of gloom, doom and panic. Also no planes. Seems to go against the super efficiency of herding thousands of herdlings through the gates onto the apron and not have any mass transit device waiting to collect them. Once again all is not as it appears. The passportless punters seem quite happy to cross the tarmac and walk up what I can only describe as invisible stairs. This is either the greatest mime act ever or I'm not seeing the whole picture. There's nothing there, I can see all the way across the airfield, there's a vague disturbance in my field of vision but that could just be grubby specs. The passengers on invisible airlines don't notice at all. I can see them sitting down in rows, as if they really are squeezing into their economy accommodation. The last pair are in now, no sign of any crew, and they're off, moving together still bound to their rows and aisles, picking up speed as they rise and clear the terminal building. With no more than faint hint of a feathery waft they've accelerated beyond the confines of my visual acuity.

Now that felt personal, almost as if I was being addressed directly. Look around but no-one's paying any attention to me. I've got used to that, but I still expect to be well outside of what's going on here, I definitely do not want to be singled out for special attention, not right now anyway. Harmonious communication, sounds good but still doesn't really feel like anything tangible, still just a concept. I'm still outside the party looking in through the window, marvelling at the inexplicable behaviour of the participants. Nice idea though. After all, if you take 5 billion units of your latest super-social bipedal ape-worm-sheep-bees and house them in a planetary atmosphere that doesn't kill them, then you'd expect that instantaneous sharing of thought and vision would be a pretty basic feature. Unless they're all raving ego maniacs of course. In which case something's gone drastically wrong and it's time to pack 'em all up, ship them back to the manufacturer and wait for the new model with the firmware upgrade to be released.
Is that what's going on here, I mean really going on, not all this "benefit in ways you currently can not comprehend" stuff but the real deal. Are we being replaced, out-graded, quick-smart re-sourced cos we're basically a bit rubbish and there's a much better model available on the market that's cheaper, cleaner, faster, and won't make such an unsightly mess of the scenery.

And another thing what in the name of Gardeners Question Time are those GIANT GREEN ONIONS doing sprouting up at regular intervals without so much as a sign saying "Aliens at work, we appolgise for any inconvinence during your re-assimilation"


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