RECRUITMENT

TO
--------------------------------------------------------------------------Where a young Benjamin Fielding is shown some inspirational Virtual Visions from a secretive
order of Virtual World Artists

The coffee he drank had a rich, nutty flavor before the cream began to take over. He watched
it swirl into a spiral shape as it merged with the black, unfathomable liquid. This should
work
Closing his eyes Ben Fielding remembered a time before the Spiral, before the advanced
cyber-worlds of the Neuroceans. He reflected on how it had begun, and how things had
changed, so suddenly
For he had known nothing then, had wanted to learn everything until one night when a
black bird, a rook, found him How did she find me? It was because his art had always held
meaning for him, but it would become the key that would unlock his future

1. WALLS

As a young student, seeking some connection, or a revolution, he had walked out into the
darkening remains of a winter evening and climbed old steps onto older city walls. They were
Roman in origin, and encircled most of the small, hardy English city of Chester. A fine layer of
frost made the stones glisten with icing under the moon and the streetlights. There was a
biting breeze too.

There had been no need for revolution here, outside, where real life flowed as it always did,
and always would, subjecting human imagination and freedom to its stark, suppressing,
competing nature. In those younger, slower days of the Virtual Web, there was only the
revolution within; a fiery chaos of latent thoughts and undirected expressions. Impatiently it
sought a new age and slicker, more lucid systems where people could more easily be known
and be more at peace in the great, incessant trend of life towards belonging and balance, for
however short a time.
The streets and rooftops glinted in the pure air. Hed inhaled deeply, trying to reach
reconciliation with his soul; a contentment that would know its purpose, feel free in himself
and with the friends hed soon return to. For they were huddled back in the house they
shared, gathered round a fiery television and laughing at the absurdities generated by
themselves and in the worlds shown to them. He wished only for a way to join them with
some inner peace and not with all this fire, burning for the ways and means to reach his
dreams, with the meaning enough to focus on them; to spend sufficient time required for
their absolute fruition For their time was brief and their dreams would rise soon and stand
between them when their studies ended.
However, in his dreams, on that chilly night, patrolling the well-worn city that now, his
distracted generation had inherited, his hope also lived: that they would be more fully
united, when the web-worlds had grown enough to cater for their beings, their laughter and
their freedoms, and through his own art, withdrawn more from this vast, smothering,
immediacy of life
Theyd known little of the web then, but through it - somehow - he might find them again,
and be better known
With all our joys before us like a land of dreams
But deeper within, he feared the cost of all this; he knew it, as he knew the wind through
fields of barley back in his home-lands. Chaos; the illusions of control that was living and
breathing. If only the technology was ready now. Without it, the cost would be their time and
their youth and, potentially, their tenuous friendship itself, dependent as it was on the
present - in this real city inside these walls - and less on any shared future together

Hed walked on. Dreaming forwards. How hed dreamed for some configuration to focus it
away; to surrender his complexity now. But it lay locked and urgent in his introverted
character, outlines seeking the long task of colouring to come.
Time enough
Grant us one more hour

His restless passion and its need for glory stirred within; his need to achieve, mixing with his
fear and inexperience, of what he was and what he would be able to do here, amidst the
distractions of reality. It was a vicious, discontented circle of powerless, powerful youth.
Now is the winter of our discontent
Hed dug his hands into deep pockets of his thick coat. On that night in a northerly part of
England hed completed a half tour along the crumbling stone, before turning back. The walls
had once been raised in fortification against attack, and just as it provided such protection
for the city inhabitants, so it held four gateways, permitting exit from its sanctuary.
A stranger huddled past him, and they exchanged a fleeting assessment of one other she, a
mirror of his own furtive youth - before they hurriedly looked away. Who are you behind your
eyes? Do you and I share similar dreams? He descended near the North gate and made his
way down the empty road.
For so long have we been confined by space and distance
Just to be known in a tribe again and with power in a normal life, a simple life in this
strange, western civilization
Such were the nature of his thoughts then, before the faster Virtual web-worlds arrived, the
Super-worlds and before, two years later, he would be forced to face himself, and his great
connection to the real-world, the Source. It had all been unveiled to him, one night,
connected deep into New London, where his destiny would find him and change him,
immeasurably. For he would meet someone, a person to help him break the circle; to
breach the walls of his nature in a transcendence of the cold reality that had constructed
them.

2. NEW LONDON

The New London sim existed on one of the early Neuroceans servers, accessed through
virtual reality technology, and with elaborate graphics and sound. Hed then been twentytwo and jacked into a scene modelled directly from an area in Hammersmith. It was an
escape into an alternative version of London, but an ironic one, because he lived in the exact
same area, in reality. It was quite stunning, to see with how much detail they had replicated
his home turf. He could just stand and stare at the trees that lined the street, swaying gently
in the simulated wind. It was getting harder to believe it wasn't real.
That night hed argued with his family over his continued use - 'abuse' - of the virtual. It was
his own emotional fault; but drifting now along the pavement he still felt drained from the
effort at defending his dreams. This dream.

At least it was snowing. Fluffy flakes descended around him. Weather was modelled on reallife forecasts, so it was meant to be snowing outside his realworld house, but he knew it
wasnt. A white Christmas? Ha! Only in the very early morning was it even fresh anymore. But
what was it about snow? Something so simple that offered involvement with the world, a
sense of freedom. He still loved the Dickensian houses, the early darkness and the warm
glow from the big city houses.
Big intentions burned in him for the future and for web-worlds and hed been working
sporadically on his designs and in-world animations. It was always in here that he felt freer
But also restless, cut off somehow, from a sense of true meaning in what he was trying to
achieve. For it was true what the sceptics said... it wasn't real; it could seem useless and
distant from a more direct, a more honest existence. Sometimes he was unable to progress
because he was pulled into the Gamezones or he would just lose the meaning in persevering
with anything. Where was the belief? He had wanted something to happen. He had hoped to
meet someone that night. We all do. But even in-world, it often seemed there were few
interesting people with the high technology and the time to spend in his zone. This new
world had come but it was a ghost world few had yet discovered. Or it's just my mood
talking...
The black shape of a bird appeared from behind a parked vehicle ahead and hopped onto the
shadowy pavement in front of him. A crow or a rook. It seemed unusually large and raggedlooking for a simulated one. It was also looking right at him as though it had been searching
for him. It moved no further; just cocked his head on one side and viewed him with black
eyes. Next he heard something take off in the tree and flap its wings. Another one? Yes, he
heard a squawk from above; it moved off into the sky. They could be owned by someone
very close by, or they might just be a part of this world. Artificial life. This was London after
all. Maybe they were supposed to be ravens?
Then the moment came, right out of an old, passive movie
A figure in a long cloak, dark as the virtual night sky, descended stylishly and with a unique
avatar control, down from a nearby tree of the row lining the old-style street. He
remembered the graceful, powerful fall and how it paused for a moment on its knees, just a
few yards ahead. Then, the figure rose to match his height, but slim and graceful; it was
female. A voice passed through him, feminine, but not like many role-players, badly
seductive or blandly mysterious. Quite simple.
Hello Ben Fielding. She sounded quite mature. It matched the figure. He guessed maybe 30
years old.
He spoke back into his headset. Hello there.
Youre not a stranger to me in fact; were kindred, in a sense. Her face lay still in the
shadows under a rakish mountain cap, also black; the effect was fantasy-like, what he could
make out. Ive met your PIP (Personal Interactive Profile) already, and had a close look at

your artwork and, basically I like what I see. A thrill went through him. He hoped his
profile had made a good impression. Was there a playful tone in her voice though, or some
kind of mischief?

Oh. he said, curious. So youre an artist too?

It was still too dark to see her face very well, but curly strands of her hair glowed with a
subdued, gingery fire. Nice touches.
Let me say that your images have relevant themes Youre trying to control, but are being
controlled. It was his work she referred to. Another leap inside of him. She knows. And its
expressive. I think youre coming to terms with nature, with your nature a strong
reconciliation isnt it? This is one foundation we seek.
"We?" He asked. The birds? Or was she from an obsessive Clan? They were so numerous
now. But nothing about her was too flashy. Despite her slight tone of amusement, he didn't
think she was putting it on. It was like an artist complementing a fellow artist; she knew the
deep affect her words would have on him, so shed spoken clearly; carefully. He hoped that
she was creative. Actually, that she was like him in many ways... kindred.
He couldn't think what else to say as she remained silent. To mention his work anymore
would seem boastful after the sensitive statements shed made. And whatever impression
shed aimed for, shed certainly achieved a good one. The virtual breeze variables blew her
coat across her figure. He saw a metallic item flash around her neck for an instant. The scene
was all quite gothic. Especially so, when one of the rooks returned, landing roughly on the
pavement again. They might be more than A-life, perhaps Ibs - Interface Bots enabling
wider vision for her interface, or just graphics for show.
My name is Syla. Syla Rooker. That saved him opening her profile; a good thing, because
something about her told him it wouldnt go unregistered. Back then, etiquette was not welldefined online. One of her ears was elven-shaped, where it emerged from her long hair. So
she could be a role-player come to test her character out or something. It was possible. He
still hadnt spent a great deal of time in-world in comparison with many of these types; the
form he assumed wore only a vague impression of his real appearance plus some vampire
fangs. But the vibe he was getting off her person was that she was someone with a good deal
of knowledge; she had power.
He made a bow gesture, feeling virtually shy. But he always was with talk of creativity; its
effect on others.
In response, she took a pale hand from her cloak and opened her palm towards him.
Fingernail colouring was a vibrant red, and it went with the small, rising red flame that
appeared within the enclosure of her fingers, in the centre of her palm. The flame burned
quickly and brilliantly, and it began to illuminate the outline of a silvery three-dimensional

cube surrounding it, before the whole vision disappeared in a purple to white flash.
Clarity came at once. Youre Firecube he managed.
Yes, thats right, she replied, and then calmly, of the Innervators. Her hand withdrew into
her cloak and she moved a little closer.
He was intimidated, but entranced too. A virtual artist. A weblord. More than a rumour then.
And he was meeting one; hed just been praised by one. What did he know of them? That
they were elite builders and moderators; masters of form and design. Some of them were
sim-shapers; demiurges. Some of them used their unique system affinities to work in the
Virtual Police. And they were highly paid.
Your art is your own. Its yours to nurture, so I hope you find time to... A pause. As you
know, its spirit and its relevance comes from the world. And we need new mediums, now
Ben
Mediums.
We need you. She approached further. Her face caught more light and of course, she was
beautifully refined from what he could see. Most women were, here, but her beauty seemed
more restrained; more natural, if that was possible in the super.
If you have the time, and so wish it, I have more to say.
He felt vulnerable, but it was a safer, better kind. Seduction not just of the body, but of my
whole being - my purpose, despite distance broken between them by advanced technologies.
He tried vaguely to discern if it was the voice she was using, melting like honey through his
ears and down into his soul, or the words that had been intoxicating. Yes, the strange use of
words that this woman - Syla - was employing to describe art gave it a weight he hadn't
known before. And he needed such certainty. The bird form at their feet was moving behind
her now, further up the street; patrolling?
Well You know, Im not busy. he said with a shrug gesture.
There was a pause and he thought he could see a smile break out on her avatar (it wouldnt
have broken out if she hadnt wanted him to notice). She continued to stand before him, less
restlessly now. The snow still fell magically around them. What a start.
She said, Ive seen your status with the clans and your character in the GOB: its another
measure we go by. The Game of Being It was becoming an extensive litmus test for
personality and aptitude, and to prove a user was ready for Virtual Immersion. But he
wouldn't have described his performance there as exactly compliant. She continued. Dont
think I dont know how the gamezones bring kinship, the joy of connection, excitement and
affinity with one system for a short time. I expect youre relishing this But Ben, there is a

greater cause I have come to offer you that, if you agree to be bound to it, will bring rewards
beyond the smaller skills of a closed game. It brings an elevated living, a focus from the
calling of many skills and a deep commitment for your spirit. You may be ready, or you may
not be suited, but the time to try is here before you.
What does it involve? Are you offering me software training?
Mastering the tools is just a small part of it. Before everything comes the concept and the
dedication I can show you only a feel for the flame, now, if youll allow me. But then you
should decide. She was referring to Insights. Hed heard they were like virtual presentations,
only immersive; all-encompassing visions.
Decide on what?
She smiled again, both warmly and shyly, but raised her head and looked at him squarely, If
youll be my student.
She had very intricately modelled eyes. They blazed for a moment, and he glimpsed what
might have been slow-motion sun-flares, licking the black space of her pupils. At last, he was
being known and needed, and by someone like her. And Firecube
Its an agreement that commits you - seriously - to a bond of learning something we feel
you could be ready for, as its aligned with your work and your profile. But Ben the choice
is yours and our door will not be closed to you if you decide its too much.
He was feeling overwhelmed. What of his projects? His ideas? Did he have the confidence to
apply them so soon? But most of them were connected to the virtual anyway, directly or
indirectly. He was sure this is where he was and where all paths were leading. Was there ever
a choice? He was aligned.
I do feel, he uttered, I am ready.

3. INTRODUCTION: THE FIRE IN THE CUBE

... I have watched

Thy shadow, and the darkness of thy steps,
And my heart ever gazes on the depth
Of thy deep mysteries.
(Shelley)

Have you had many students before? he asked. He thought it might give him a clue about
her status in the secretive group.
Some, yes. Her tone was final, so it left him wondering who they had been.
The head of Sylas avatar was lowered. Either thinking, or interfacing.
After a pause she spoke squarely again. There are things Ill hope to impress upon you, here
at the outset so you may recall them in times to come they are the Introductions. He
was struck by the fresh, formal tone in her voice, sensing it probably wasnt a big part of her
character. Still, the softness of her voice made it easy to listen and understand.

Perhaps youll recall them in times and in environments that confuse and convince
through imaginings that possess no understanding of beauty and truth or of confluence
with the world, our Source.
He thought she must have been referring to the infamous Blacksims, such as Bedlam,
officially banned from any grid, or the latest fiery imaginings of virtual Hades. For men make
hells for themselves these days, literally. Some even to punish themselves and feel absolved of
their sins As a weblord, how much she must have seen!
These are things you must learn We are at a dawn for art, where many paths are possible
through the woods and there are many ways of seeing light and dark. We have our
Insights, and these are unbound; they may change as we learn more about the world. Some
of those following Ben, you may know already through the Lore of Being. We heed the
guidance of its flexible tenets, open to revision and informed as they are by science as we
heed the forces of life within us.
He nodded his avatar. The Game of Being was almost a VR nature education sim, teaching
vividly about seeing and living in accordance with nature; it had been immensely influential.
But you had to appreciate the Lore of Being to progress.
As artists of the Firecube we must heed them more than others, for we deal closely with the
forms, the signs, and the flow. She made a deft gesture and conjured the sign of the
elements, like a wave turning in upon itself over and over. It became a spiral and broke apart
into the light mist that hung in the air. He wished he could conjure such graphics with such
style.
All people are artists, when they can afford to be. They make choices, selecting where they
can what suits their natures, expressing themselves where they are able. We are not special,
for all are bound by selection; the priority of an action But it is here, at this time where all
the rich medias the tools youve been using - are uniting in this New Age for art: an online
Convergence. Text, images, video and sound in reckless configurations for exposure to the
senses; new worlds for immersion by the mind. He thought of a friend he had known Jernau - who he had he lost online hed killed himself, elaborately, in a sim apparently
designed for that purpose. And you, Ben, are an inheritor of this, while we feel more and
more the need for cleaner paths to lead to these new realms of wonders; of imagination and
information. Not to escape too greatly either, but to feed the flux of Reality they have sprung
from For there is great potential And it will be up to us to herald it, to keep the flame
alight and not to burn mens souls with the wrong signs and to fight fire with our own kind
of fire for as art is the way so too is it a weapon. There are dangers
She held in her palm the bright animation of the Firecube again, like a well-cleaned lantern
from Victorian times, and the small flame licked the transparent frame containing it.
This sign the Firecube - was chosen for the meanings in the relationship the balance - of
the living flame and the cube it creates within us.

As she spoke, the flame turned a fierce dark blue and flared up, curling against the
expanding, blackening edges of the cube. In the next instant it had broken out. There was the
sound of fractured glass and the effect of tiny silver shards tinkling to the pavement. The blue
flame was left battling wildly with the breeze.
Watching the moving flame was a strange, hypnotic effect, blending with Sylas voice. But it
was doomed.
Without a suitable cube - our created aid; our shelter; our definition we are exposed. We
are a reckless freedom and weapon in the world. And we are like the darker cubes, wrongly
aligned; those that fan the flame too greatly and will not last but will burn themselves out...
He could see in the flame a glittering of particles that looked like mini solar systems as they
rose and then fell in a fountain. But a gust of wind soon came through the street and
extinguished it, leaving their faces darkened in shadow again.
Her voice was more hushed as the trees about them creaked slightly. However, new cubes
will rise around the flame again for it is embedded in us. We need systems to function.
Once again the flame grew back in her palm and consequently a new, much smaller cube
grew slowly out of it; they nurtured each other in a mutual exchange and it was clear to him.
The flame is the drive and the cube is the mind.
The animation dissolved as her small fingers closed together around it, snuffing it out. Im
going to show you more Get ready for a teleport. Her other hand moved out from her
cloak and made a brief motion, beginning from him and ending towards her. The red
fingernails left trails of amber glow in the smoky air. Then her arms parted decisively and
quietly the dark, snowy London scene around them vanished with a slow grace and was
replaced by a new one, equally dark. But bleak and noisy

They stood now on a cliffs edge in a great storm with rain and thunder. Their coats flapped
in far stronger variables as their appearances got rapidly wet. Sylas hair strands glowed even
brighter in the darkness, and were tossed randomly about under her cap like a crazed webwitch she seemed to be. Her arm raised, pointing and where his gaze followed the sharp
edge of the cliff fell away to a deep abyss where an ocean raged with its waves far below.
I think I preferred New London, he said lightly, but the words struggled through the
realistic impression of strong weather.
She smiled, only the second time she had done so, and he noticed brilliant white fangs in the
gloom. Was she Fallen, like him? Maybe shed also acquired them from one of those
beautiful worlds of the undead, as he had. What was she really like? He considered their
compatibility level high although she was older, and wiser.

Remember this scene. she spoke loudly through the noise and the deep crashing below
them. Then her hand opened onto the ground as if dropping something. A small flower
sprung up and opened in a dash of bright blue. Immediately it began to battle with the wind.
It looked very small and vulnerable, but it clung to the soil and glowed determinedly.
All this together is Life, and Love, and Death
A huge wave battered into the rock far beneath and spray washed upwards and over them,
watering the soil and their forms; their dripping, virtual attire. This time suddenly - the
ground actually shook and he was thrown to the grassy earth and left to gaze over the edge;
down into the darkly rendered foam and the inky motion of water. He felt dizzy and not free
from fear at the realism. This place must have been made with acute skills to compel and
convince.
Then, a clear voice; rich; hoarse; recited lines from a play. It was Shakespeare, Hamlet The
words actually appeared next to him and tumbled down into the breakers. He watched as the
letters were spread about; cast into the wind and the waves; an incarnation of language torn
up in a maelstrom.
The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain
That looks so many fathoms to the sea
And hears it roar b e n e A T H !
And indeed, the churning mass roared in its deep darkness. Her voice spoke again with a
sharp edge. Down there Ben, is desire, energy; the drive of the world. Heat that is hot and
heat that is cold. She pulled his avatar back up to its feet, her hands lightly on his arms and
she looked closely at him. It helped to steady his senses, focus them on her. She still had to
speak over the deep booming in his ears.
The waves are the flames, the flower and the tree of life.
The cube is the cliff the land
He was shaken by the quality of the revelations she had so far shown him. These visions were
so clear and so powerful. Turning him away from the sharp drop there was now a large tree
springing up where the blue flower had been. What next?
Hold steady the next vision is coming Soon the tree towered above them and they
stood beneath it where a dim fire enveloped its limbs, but where the flames didnt appear to
be burning up the wood, but burning through it. The effect on the texture of the tree was
slimy; like treacle. She pointed towards it.
In the tree there is Life and all species. Man is merely a branch at the reaches, connected to
all living things. Without wood there is nothing for life to keep burning without us... For it

burns through us to spread, to grow larger, to diversify And everything we create are
leaves, assisting lifes struggle on a burning planet...
She swept her arm upwards with an open hand and a whole spread of golden leaves broke
out on the tree The shining light from them was very bright. The flames grew large with the
wind and the leaves and at the top, a whole crinkling and crackling sound could be heard and
seen, like tiny creatures lived there, swarming.
Its always changing Ben And you must know what you are Connected to life and the
vicinity to a chaos where all these interactions come together in a fragile, beautiful
balance
The first part of this reached him through the volume of sound, but her hand moved again
and the visions faded so it was quiet again. Her voice was still hypnotic and it was only when
shed finished speaking that he saw that the ground had fallen away. He had to reach out
into the realworld to steady himself. Everything was now gone and replaced by
nothingness void. And then stars, appearing. They were suddenly in open, inky space and
his stomach turned as planet Earth beneath his feet, zoomed outwards slowly; hugely. Syla
was surrounded by a haze of faintly pulsing stars Their avatars were floating. And it was an
awesome sight, to see how vibrant the earth glowed, from within almost; brilliant against the
black. Using both hands, she moved their position so that the burning sun appeared over its
rim, and both were seen together.
He looked down at the vibrant planet; the blueness and the swirling cloud structures that
were luxuriously detailed. Home. It was so calm now. He had felt so displaced.
She continued. This simulation moves in approximation of Earths actual, current position in
space. He noticed that her cap was gone; her ginger hair flowed freely; superbly around her
face in the black space backdrop. She smiled in a casual flash of exhilaration that was mutual.
For the stars were so clear and so myriad.
Systems within systems, she said in the silence. Silence except for a faint sound, the
frequency of celestial bodies; the filtered music of the spheres, he assumed. Her red
fingernails glowed again as they spread down at their source; their blue and white
homeworld.
What are we? Her voice was a projected whisper, close in his earphones. In relation to all
this? They looked down together and around at the scatterings of constellations. In the ball
of the sun, he could see random slow-motion explosions of fire, like the tiny ones hed
glimpsed in her eyes. Had she made this? She resumed her normal, lucid tone.
Again I will say what science reveals for us All those at Firecube know of these findings.
That we are a balance of interactions within a balance of chaos through which, a life force
takes hold and feels out for the sun. We are a slowly evolving code containing imperfections
and tendencies, so that we are forced to work with and through our environments. We are

our environment and upbringing. We are brain chemistry. We are new aspects of lifes
ongoing evolution and somewhere in this we are ourselves, selecting for some connection,
some separate power, worship and autonomy We belong to an economy expanding itself,
running itself, and where no one has complete control. So what we do is what we can or
must, as a group organism of individuals struggling to co-operate with each other for survival.
We process information and store knowledge to adapt and evolve as much as our resources
allow. We are fluid to what is in flux around us, expanding and contracting, as our certain,
living, ape-based clay - through selection - moulds to the surface of the cliff face. What is our
function? Merely to serve and to ride the storm, to tinker and wrestle for some peace and
order until we slip this universe and our energy is pulled into another or into nothingness
This we have learned about ourselves It has taken the work of many to reveal it; this
simplicity. The beautiful simplicity in all this complexity. That our lives no matter what they
give, serve only the function of living or to live! Any other form of value we attribute it is
merely our own.
As the words came fast visions of many types of lifeforms changing and merging on the
planets different landscapes appeared and disappeared. His mind reeled at the truth of
these words; the systems configured before him to generate and sustain the magic of
existence. He realized something too and he couldnt stop himself uttering, Then Im so
free! To live without ideals and without guilt Just to live simply like any animal in harmony
and quiet economy with his resources.
But what of good and evil? He asked.
Yes? What of them? Easy terms. What do you know of them from the Lore?
Well, he said. It shows that good and evil are both part of nature but that there is no
good or evil that has much consequence to nature. Both are just human terms with great
subtleties when applied to reality, action and consequence. That goodness is more
something like wisdom about desire and need; collaboration and an ability to correctly align
ourselves to our natures. He hadnt realized he remembered so much.
He remembered the situations hed faced in the Game of Being, and the ways theyd
demonstrated to him the purpose of the Lore of Being. Hed made many mistakes in it, as he
learned of the value of living and depending on others. It taught by scenario; and he saw the
sense of it; it had proven to help people understand themselves better.
Syla nodded. The earth below requires only our presence and reproduction, but it benefits
more from our happiness. Its true; light and darkness are part of the imperfect system we
live in. And it is this imperfection that enables adaptation. It allows for change, where good
feelings are those that co-operate and live with better chances. Because it is the co-operation
between each of us, working well or working poorly: the needs of the group, or the needs of
the individual It could be said that evil is poor co-operation or communication
breakdown where an individual places himself above others, without the understanding of
the organism he is part of and depends on. Such individual concentrations of power are still
co-operative in some ways, but they also have nearly been our undoing as a species.

Syla gestured again and triggered a deep, resonant music; strange and haunting. With her
hair flaming and her black cloak billowing, she turned her head towards the flaming ball of
sun, just an average star in an ocean of stars.
Her eyes glittered. Here we must hold ourselves up against the light Ben She moved their
positions closer to the magnificence of the sun and her voice echoed in a new tone, husky
with a controlled passion.
To grow through our thoughts to the reaches
For we shall be cast from the limbs where our minds document the activity of their own
documenting; their struggling in the grasp of the shell of their bodies and in the flow,
blueprinting cold marvels in the fresh leaves that grow further and in flight from the lifegiving fire; the slow, pure rising in the one trunk of this worlds source and all its shapes and
their dark breathing
As the words flowed, Syla moved the universe further to reveal its more spectacular features
such as nebulae and supernovae manifesting in clouds all about them.
We are the blind mediums peering more clearly at their mystery but struggling still onwards
up its stark face. The fluidity of the world that seeks in our race to flow free. And with the sign
of the cube of all knowledge to enclose this vast and functioning chaos, the world is more ours
to interpret, to marvel at, and to carry on through us. Everything is temporary, all our art and
all our constructions but only through them will the flame burn through and brightly on
beyond us in its beating balance.
The planet Earth re-appeared and they drifted again in a slow orbit.
The rush of words increased a feeling that his mind was opening to fresh connections and
meanings of the sign. And it was inspiring, for the moment where they floated and he knew
more of where his feelings had come from and where they might flow.
Know your code within, so your chutes grow strong and intertwined.
For here, as new worlds of light and darkness unfold online, there is much work to be done to
protect the Source from our own misconceptions, and to reveal this reality to ourselves.
She turned to face him, and he was aware of how good it felt to partake alongside her in the
ageless spirit of united purpose. That he could contribute through a greater awareness and
understanding. Knowledge is power, do you see? Knowledge of this system and our roles
within it.
Yes, I see. he said. He had been more narrow in his own perspectives. His individuality.
Then you can accept yourself as an organism, inside humanitys collective consciousness
our culture - that we feed directly or indirectly, with our art? All these systems to contain our

delight, our connections, our discoveries, growing onwards each one of these suns blinking
on and off, on and off, our codes re-writing, evolving, and always a music, a health, a
happiness and a power to feel for power. Its a great processing. But the cubes must flow
with the flame.
He was not sure if she was talking or if the words were coming from the pre-created vision,
because she seemed to be mouthing something different - a command or spell - that might
conclude the scene. Together they looked down at the elucidated globe of the earth. The
new union of art and science grants us the power to discover, master and accept for
ourselves a good place in the universe. While with Firecube we can always keep open to new
ways of scientific seeing; new theories about the mystery of our being. For the specifics of a
system either work and are suited, or they will not shelter us.
This is some meaning we think of, in our present Age. Some meaning of our being. My task
as your teacher will be to show this to you. For to harness the forms of life, you must first
know life.
Her cap re-appeared as the Earth and the sun and the stars faded in a sudden reversal of a
silent Big Bang.
Everything for a moment was dark...

4. THE INNERVATING WAY

A voice spoke the words of a quotation in the blackness:

'We have constructed pyramids in honour of our awaking.'
... And then the scene surrounding him opened up again; was re-filled with sound and colour
and form... The next sim was green with nature. A jungle, thick but where ruins and old stone
carvings lay scattered or embedded in them. He knew it as Mexican, Aztec or Mayan
possibly a reconstruction of the ancient ruins at Tecal.
I know those words. That was Jim Morrison, of the 1960s band The Doors.
Thats right. Syla stood nearby with her black birds again. They took flight and flew up
towards trees on the edges of the wide clearing they stood in. He thought she would shed
some light on the quote, but perhaps this place was the light. He could see ominous shapes
of pyramid-like sacrificial temples rising through the fine mist that lay all around. Syla
seemed more familiar now, but this place made her look a tidy figure again, standing quite
still in the setting. Controlled. Her head turned towards him and the impression was spooky,
reminding him that she was also still a mystery, despite the charm of her voice.
The last stage is just to show and tell you a little of the Innervating Way; it is the feeling of

forms and their powers. What do you see around you?

I see jungle and ruins of an ancient culture. Mayan I think.
The Mayan signs are faded now, where once they stood as a single style that aided the
cohesion and unity of the people.
She pointed to where Hieroglyphs appeared before them, glowing in a silent, powerful
mysticism from long ago.
This is art as it once was; a spiritual guide, a chronicle, a comfort, a marvel of power where
now their meanings have faded and evolved with change and with new knowledge. Perhaps
the artists were not flexible enough to serve to meet those changes. But they passed away.
Though they knew something of Time.
The inscriptions broke up and faded to become part of the white mist that drifted as though
breathed out from the jungle surrounding them.
Youve already seen how today we humanity - are some of the latest assumed forms of
the living clay of a life at work in the world. New branches from the old, seeking an easy,
surviving harmony with the spaces of the earth. This process continues within the artistic
urge within us; to adapt and to tinker with our given settings and those around us. It is
diversity; it is colour. And in every moment our minds are processing or searching for signs
relevant to our purposes. And it is up to us to find them, to manifest them and to serve the
present age with care; a careful but effective selection and manifestation... in a greenwise
harmony
We do this through Innervation, that is the concentration of desire towards a vision. It
comes with balance but also with pressure; when a need is pressing. It feeds the group
consciousness of our race. It binds and inspires men to one another through their crafts. For
it is we who must make the leaves that are shed in the seasons and renewed.
To be part of Firecube is to become a medium, through potent use of the medias. Image,
shape, sound, text, you will harness these and learn also how they can be interwoven to form
seamless interfaces to experience. In the Academy we teach the techniques of these tools to
manifest the realms of our thoughts, the signs that guide and that aid the information flow
between people. The forms that make the signs - and the flow itself - are eternal. So too are
their effects; both positive and negative.
Her cloak broke open for a moment and a slender arm cast itself over the scene. A whole
sim like this one may be deemed a sign, containing many forms, but it can lose its meaning;
its pertinence, try as we might to recapture it. Her hand cast a ball of light that swept
around the clearing, parting the mist and illuminating the texture of the old stone ruins. The
signs made here were dominated by fear and mystery; too much mystery perhaps; the
mystery of life and death. Men grew powerful through their theories about it. But they are all

gone
He could see the sacrificial stone at the top of a nearby temple, where, hed heard, captives
were killed to keep the suns heart beating through the sky. Today, many of the signs are of
scientific knowledge, wherein our faith is placed to maintain our certainty, our sense of
progress but mysticism, superstitions still remain, alongside a growing reverence for
nature and our functional mystery.
But there will be more time for this She turned towards him. The music around them was
ambient, spiritual, deeply chilled and bewitching
You must know something of the feeling of forms and their powers. Though they bind and
inspire they can blind and misguide and be abused Our eyes have adapted to see only what
the worlds flow would have us see, immediately, where the mind must learn to filter or
interpret."
"Do you desire me Ben? My appearance?
For a moment he was too surprised to form a reply, so immersed in the trail of her words had
he been. He still felt so impressionable it took him a moment to react.
She approached him slowly, walking stealthily, like a cat. Say what you feel. Her finely
modelled face loomed closer into his viewing space.
Im sorry, but I do yes.
She smiled slowly, beautifully; revealing clear white teeth again, in a radiant female face.
This is because Ive assumed a form of power, that of a healthy female figure. Such a figure
is a form that controls men I chose this because I knew it would give me an advantage over
you, and more of your attention. Her fiery eyes burned magically at him. Health, beauty,
perfection. Its what we strive towards and are attracted by.
He was feeling vulnerable now. And maybe deceived. Are you not a healthy female figure
in reality? Who are you really?
Her expression resumed its seriousness and she backed off slowly. It may be that I am not so
unlike this. But I show you something of who I am and this must be enough. For you can
judge me by my voice cant you? And the content of my words?
I try to. He felt he was in love with her voice, and her manner. He was sure that he
wouldnt mind the form that matched the voice.
Then, you have a power and a strength. To see through one of the forms of power to the
real nature of it. Others believe me - are less able. She smiled more normally. Im glad you
do.

He felt he could say the truth to her, even after such a short time. I think Im in love with
your voice, he said, not looking at her.
She laughed softly. Im ok with that too. But it will keep at this if you are to be my student.
She paused and when he looked at her it seemed shed been waiting for him to meet her
gaze. Her eyes and expression even virtually were able to soften. I am not the one who
can show to you love and desire, for to distinguish one from the other is not simple, even
here. Both can lead to a pair-bond that is the confining contract of our species, built on trust
and to withstand much hardship in the Source. I cannot wish for such a bond in my life at
present. When your training is over there may be one who would be proud and happy to
enter into such a one. But this must all be left for some future. And you should be ready."
Yes I think. But he did; he remembered this was also in the Lore.
She turned away with a swirl of black cloak magnificently - towards a nearby stone carving.
Where was I? The Forms. Yes, let me say only a little more for now
...All art starts as a signal unleashed into a system; to evolve into a full sign that lights a way
for mankind, or darkens it. Science is the functioning law of the Universe. Art serves science,
in the way the fire does the cube. Art may serve religion, but all at Firecube agree to abide by
no religion and regard it only with a great wariness. "
...Of the forms it is those closest to the flow - evolution that are the most potent. Desire
for perfect food, love, strength, home, security, and the freedom to organize or survey
these. Tranquil, idyllic landscapes that are visions of freedom and health. Visions of belonging
and of power and expertise; the thrill of the hunt And of course, desire of the body. All
these tempt people into experiences or purchases they may or may not benefit from.
You will learn to subvert these forms, to aid the appreciation of reality, science and our real
selves and to always be wary of the forms; their harmful magnifications and distortions.
This is the darkness we face above many. No, its not always a simple task. And for there to
be light there must be some darkness also.
As she spoke a small, white horse appeared on the dusty looking earth at their feet a statue
- but it shone with a subdued radiance. Suddenly a horn appeared in front of it, brighter than
the horse and moved through the air to fasten itself to the crown of the horses head. It burst
into life and reared violently backwards neighing loudly, violently. But then it grew
magnificent wings, galloping upwards to fly off with a power and a freedom.
The time is here where we, as secret artists must herald the Convergence, refine the chaos
further towards fresh dawns of knowing, to breathe greater platforms for their celebration;
for more real seconds where we contemplate an aspect of our living selves, admire or
recognise our own behaviour the shy horror at our tragic beauty its force and its vision

within us transcending the space out from which it has evolved. We must correlate the
large quantity of knowledge to move towards a higher, global vision of ourselves,
transcending all ideas irrelevant to the present age through a new age of accessible
education focussed art and understanding.
He felt strange extremely so towards this woman stranger and her quick, amazing talk
glinting with impressions of an intense wonder. And yet it felt natural that this should have
happened; that someone should have come to him to define the direction for his dreams and
his conception of his role within the worldHis thoughts raced along with his passion that
was crisp through the possibilities that had affected him with a power already.
For today is a time of high communication and conservation, where everything is known
through art, where there are no boundaries to the reflective experiences that will come,
where minds reach out more completely to one another.
How his mind was rushing, he suddenly realised to be a designer of worlds a wizard in
the virtual
Rushing with new revelations like a great awareness and an imminent mastery to explore
through ones own powers and show to the world the glories and the joys to be found in
inspiration that he alone or with colleagues could plunder for prestige and for mankind. He
felt so young and yet could feel too the weight of living up to its light, the need to be so
focussed in so many sessions in order to bring ones hands up from the depths, cupped and
brimming with the new light of medias. The new worlds that could be forged
He pushed his passion away and brought himself back to the moment. The jungle and the
temples from a lost world. And to the figure and her beautiful burning eyes, still glowing in
her hair and hands, features being stolen by diminishing virtual light, the shape of her eyes
amused and glinting.
She spoke again softly, casually. To be of the Academy is to learn many things personal
and professional. It is to learn balance and confidence. For without these it is hard to
proceed. It is to know solitude; to understand Time and patience, which only comes with an
appreciation of Time. We are filters; we refine our impressions and our dreams until the time
arrives where we must forge new and more suitable ones
So she said. And these words she actually spoke again, in the moment, where he wasnt
sure if many things had been recordings, tied in with the revelatory virtual insights hed
witnessed. And her voice was still something he remembered even today. I will be your
tutor and your friend, if you will be bound to me in learning. It is the ancient contract
between apprentice and teacher. The rooks left the trees nearby and landed roughly at her
feet. It is not often you get the chance to meet someone in whatever experience you are
sharing who offers you their time to change you, beyond measure. Unlock you, might be
more accurate. Even make you a Demiurge one day

...But I hope you feel that you have need of us as likewise, we have need of you.

Yes how hed changed. His mind had been opened to the world by the work of many
previous lives, and now he could take part in its continued flow. How complex it all was, but
how simple it seemed. He would serve a balance. He had wondered at the path before him,
but trusted that it would open up.
When do we begin? He said.
We already have, with these Introductions. I should leave now, but soon I will send you the
location for the Academy. There is an Innervation Oath that we are bound to take. I will also
mind-share with you then, if youll agree. Mind-sharing was a virtual form of intimacy. It was
also called melding and was a mutual avatar-exchange of personal dreams and memories and
influences.
Id be proud to, he said warmly. And he bowed a parting. Thank you for finding me.
She nodded in response, but with a half-smile.
My birds have recorded this whole session. Let me give you the recording, so you can play it
back if you so wish, choosing your camera angles. It will only work for you, so spreading it
would be useless.
A glowing card appeared before him, on his interface, requesting acceptance of the item. In
his palm a small, shining Firecube appeared, and he supposed that opening it would play
back their meeting, from a literal birds-eye perspective. It went into his inventory.

For now Ben, I bid you a welcome and farewell

Her figure dissolved in a tranquil disintegration that blended into the mist, leaving him alone
in the eerie, deserted jungle. A faint insignia of a black rook hung in the air after her.
What have I got myself into now? But he jacked-out of the system still feeling elated, and

returned to the Source, where the real world, and his family awaited. He would tell them
now how he would be a virtual artist and designer, for he had agreed to become a member
of Firecube, the emerging demiurges of the Virtual Web.
Later that night, he would lay awake listening to ambient Embient music, on his
headphones, thinking over the Introductions she had shown him, that he would have to replay to his avatar. Firecube Insights can only be experienced, and he didnt know how
different the existing ones in use today were. But for him they were the beginning - as they
have been for many a lost, online wanderer of knowing how connected to the Source he
was, to nature and to the world. So much would he come to understand
And one day, long after Syla had virtually disappeared, (and he had given up looking), when
he had left Firecube for the Division, the new, far more powerful, resonant insights would
flow into the minds of many, deep in the heart of the Spiral, in Fountellion. They would affect
billions of players. And it would be he who would envisage them.

Written in 2007.
with some new revisions 2015

This is a background story in the Spiral Gameworld series, an ongoing set of speculative VR Future
stories featuring a mystical nature game-world online.
So Please follow on Twitter @ademcocampbell
or search Ades Greenwise Designs on Facebook to show support/ideas for a work in progress.
Also Available on WATTPAD (Ademc77)
Further reading: The Lords and the New Creatures, by Jim Morrison. Romantic poetry of Keats, Byron,
Shelley etc, Shakespeare Hamlet and any books on Evolution.
Another background story to write describes the reasons for Sylas disappearance. She is hunted by
someone mysterious but Ben is able to pass and preserve some of their work and their relationship
in the fabric of his new virtual Gameworld. Your ideas are welcome.

[Any digital illustrators interested in making artwork please get in touch. Also, comments and feedback
may influence future Spiral stories!]