Further than Before- Pathway to the Stars Read online

  She had written many scientific journal entries, had made amazing discoveries that pushed physics into the palpable, with astronomical, quantum, and particle physics subjects and a more profound grasp of dark matter and the Cosmic Microwave Background (CMB).

  Together with her late and beloved husband, Ralston, she had taught, mentored, and loved her children until they too had expressed their own doctoral expertise. Ralston had been an incredible tennis player, a mathematician, and a physicist in his own right, and had passed away at the age of eighty-one. “Oh, how I miss him, and I’ll never forget how heavy it was for me when he closed his eyes for the last time,” she thought, with a tear running down her right cheek and a smile which was evidence of how proud of him she was and how much she loved him.

  Vesha had provided instruction to countless fellows and many more students; she had been honored by the Washington Academy of Sciences, and together with Ralston she had even taught their grandchildren about the many wonders of the Universe. “Your grandmother was an astronomer, because there is always so much to learn and appreciate about our Universe, and that is something that she loved deeply,” Vesha thought as she contemplated the time she spent with the generations of family she would soon be leaving behind, for the next great journey of the unknown. She hadn’t thought of her dream angel for decades, until those years when her dementia started to kick in. “Sky, she visited me when I needed her most. Lately, she has visited me more. She reminded me that together with Ralston we successfully balanced our family and personal lives, even our magnificent careers, and while whispers of the Nobel Peace Prize were just that, whispers, I ought to be pleased with the notion of simply having helped people out.”

  She looked up as her eyes adjusted to the darkness assisted by the dim flicker of the night light and slightly smiled as she faintly made out the seemingly glowing mural of Andromeda on her ceiling above. She closed her eyes to sleep that eternal sleep, as the tug of the Universe began to take its effect. It was as if Sky was there with her, to help her on her next big journey. With knowledge solely of a beginning and an end to every turn and twist of fate, Vesha would become one with it again, her memories, her particles, and her dreams would now be a part of a future life.

  Chapter 02: Vesha Celeste, Section 2

  After Vesha sighed, felt at peace, and closed her eyes, she blissfully lost herself in her dreams going with Sky on journeys of daring-do, honor, love, and shared understanding between one civilization or another, and then she began to feel young and vibrant, and with a unique and sudden clarity of mind. Vesha realized she could hear just as clearly as when she was ten; she no longer felt the need for sleep. Something was different about her surroundings, but she couldn’t quite place what it was. Instead, she started to enjoy everything she had contemplated as beautiful as if it were music that was playing in the air around her. “Where am I?”

  She decided to lie there for a while. She felt young again, and she imagined the sounds of arpeggios as if they were finely tuned pianos playing away harmoniously, a symphony of waves, the chiming of the clocks, and the knocking of the door that had hummed synchronously as if a beautiful tune were permeating throughout her entire living space.

  The door knocked again.

  The music seemed that it had quieted to lower decibels; her friendly and lovely dream angel seemed to fade away with an understanding farewell and a wave of her hand, and then she smiled before looking down. It seemed as if the music were still playing within the background of her mind. And then she realized that she had indeed heard another “tap” at the actual door.

  “Oh my,” she thought. “I must be losing my mind. Do I have a visitor?”

  As soon as Vesha realized someone was at the door, she sprang from her covers like she did when she was in her youth, unaware that things had changed. There was a slight glow emanating from her skin, but she did not notice it as she rushed to flick the light on. When it seemed to be the switch was in a different location, she stopped. “That’s odd.” She thought.

  She saw her mural of Andromeda still on the ceiling above, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and then she saw her Van Gogh of “A Starry Night” on the wall near the doorway, but something was wildly different about the environment she was in.

  “There is something up with and unusual about this,” Vesha then dismissed it and gathered herself together, not wanting to keep her visitor waiting. She managed to find and place her fluffy warm slippers over the socks on her feet, and then recovered and wrapped her robe around her black and silky nightgown and felt a vibrancy she hadn’t felt in decades. A tingling sensation reverberated throughout her body as if her skin were radiating a beautiful light accompanied by a more intense euphoria on her left side. Upon finding the light switch, she turned it on and headed to the door.

  “Vesha,” she could hear a gentle and beautifully recognizable voice, followed by a softer tap at the door, and then a pause. The visitor was ever-so-patient and persistent.

  Vesha called back through the hallway door toward the plausible entrance, from whence came the knocking, and noticed a younger timber to her own voice as she, in a kind and urgent manner, responded, “I’m coming! Sorry to make you wait. I seem to be a little confused, but I am on my way, and I’ll be there in just a second!” After uttering those words, she knew something was indeed different about her own situation, and she could not yet figure out what it could be.

  Vesha arrived at the door, looked into the security display above it of a video image of her visitor. On the other side of the entryway was an angelic face beset with a familiar, peaceful, and serene smile. On the porch was a most interesting, feminine, and exquisitely framed, beautifully dressed, nicely busted young lady, with medium-length hair in an up-do, a rainbow of highlights through her professionally groomed brunette hair. It donned on her that on the other side of the barrier was a recognizable young lady, and with no desire to keep her waiting any longer, she opened the door and greeted her lovely visitor.

  “I’m Yesha Alevtina,” said this entrancing, somewhat familiar emerald and hazel-eyed, beautiful brunette, who appeared to be a petite young lady, and with a mind-catching intellectual delivery of her speech. As she spoke, her words twisted like ageless and confectionery perfection in the air through her perfect and pouty lips. “How are you doing? You’re Vesha Celeste, correct? We met more than twenty years ago for the first time, and you visited us as an honorary member of Pathway several times. I hope you remember me? May I come in? We have a lot to discuss.”

  “Of course,” said Vesha Celeste, making motions to enter her dwelling and wondering what they were going to chat about. At first, she thought that her dementia was confusing her perception of reality, but she let that concern dissipate as she opened the screen door further to politely let her come in. Yesha gently brushed by her, giving Vesha a gentle sensation as if life outside of her own had made contact and provided her a living reference point beyond her own mind. Directing Yesha to a comfortable couch, certain aspects of her reality and the setting she was in came to her all of a sudden. Her living facility resembled more of a home, and aside from the essential aspects of her main living quarters, things had changed rather drastically. She wasn’t in a senior citizen’s center anymore; she was in an actual home, or so it seemed. Yesha was right, there just might be a few things to discuss—she was confused.

  Vesha looked down and noticed, although her hands were slightly balmy and shivering, they were also glimmering and young. Gone were the wrinkles on the surfaces of the skin visible to her, gone were the places that too much sun had kissed for too long or too often, and before her, her hands and wrists were smooth, of pleasant scent, and silky—cleared away were the marks of age. She felt an unusual tingling sensation on her left shoulder, the left of her chest, and on her left arm and down past her left hip, thigh, and down to her foot, and she ignored it.

  She offered this dazzling beauty sitting on the couch before her some naturally sweetened and war
med herbal hydration—a favorite of hers—a dried hibiscus from Asia.

  In a soft yet very assertive, attractive, yet serenely excited voice, Yesha accepted, “Of course. I love the wonderful varieties of tea, and Asian hibiscus is among my favorites. They have so many natural and good qualities for our bodies. It’s a shame that herbal teas are all-too-often overlooked and under-appreciated in many places throughout the world. Thank you, Vesha,” and Yesha smiled as she sipped her tea.

  “I’ve felt the same way for years as well,” agreed Vesha.

  After a few moments of quiet retreat, Yesha smiled with appreciation toward her pleasant agreement and continued, “I am so glad to see you. You can’t imagine my excitement. First of all, it’s been a while. I am curious, how do you feel? Do you know where you are? Have you seen yourself, yet? Because sitting here with you right now, you look amazing. Please humor me? We’ve sipped some tea, so could you please head past your kitchen, and then head just one room further than your bedroom to your bathroom on the right? Once you do, can you please take a look at yourself in the mirror? When you do, please tell me what you think?”

  While Vesha appreciated the compliment, questions about where she thought she was and if she had seen herself in the mirror, seemed quite unique. There was no ridicule or sarcasm in her voice, yet she knew something was up. Vesha was pretty sure she was in a senior citizen’s living facility, within her own domicile, and with her private balcony, at least that’s where she had been earlier. Or so it seemed. Vesha hadn’t looked at herself since the previous morning. She hadn’t showered since the day before, or before the seasonal celebrations, and she still thought of herself as a finely-aged eighty-eight-year-old lady. Despite Yesha’s sincere tone, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she was just trying to be polite. Perhaps Yesha was pointing out that she was in all reality merely a mess. Vesha calmly rushed to the restroom to check. When she looked into the mirror, she couldn’t believe what she beheld.

  “Oh, my…!” Vesha exclaimed standing in her pajamas and robe, so used to the expressions and mannerisms of someone who had lived the eighty-eight years she had. The young person on the other side of the mirror gazed at her in disbelief. She liked what she saw; it reminded her of an amazingly artistic and spectacularly youthful, curvy, slender, and perky version of distant memories of something resembling herself. However, on this particular occasion for as much as she tried, she only vaguely remembered each of her youthful features from so long ago. It was rare to consider, but Vesha was, in fact, beholding a reflection from her twenty-two-year-old days.

  Yesha smiled as she sensed Vesha’s excitement and well-given wonder and felt giddy for the first time in a very long time, relatively speaking.

  “I look… different! What exactly happened? Wait, you asked where I thought I was, and now I am at a loss; what is this place, and where am I?” Vesha had thousands of questions as she stood in baffled amazement at what she beheld before her looking back at her from the mirror. Instead of working herself into a dither, however, she found herself even more excited by her newly perceived reality. Enchanted and in awe, she thought out loud, loud enough for Yesha to hear. “I won’t lie, Yesha, I thought I was dying about twenty minutes ago. “Putting the pieces together, I had some pretty deep and fleeting moments of memory as if my life were playing before my eyes, and a bit of a headache.

  “Afterward, I started heading off into dreamland.

  “The second I sighed, breathed out, and thought I wouldn’t breathe in again, it was then and quite precisely when my pain was gone, I felt vibrant and like I could reach the stars! Yesha, it’s starting to become clear now, and no, you’re not just a familiar visitor, you’re a long-time friend!” Her neural nanos were working hard and she saw herself glow as her physiology and neurology were connecting all the sectors of cells and neurons in an optimal way, “But, I must have died, and you brought me back. How many years went by?”

  Against every prudent aspect of the nature of personal expression that she was used to—one of humility and calm reserve, she began to ogle her reflection in the mirror divested of shame or narcissism, but filled with excitement and wonder, “Wow! I think I might actually like this! It dons on me now with quickened clarity that for years I was a bit more, how should I put it? I was too prudent during the last few decades of my life! However, to my credit, I was lost in noble pursuits, not to mention I’d been suffering from dementia. Oh my, I wonder what my friends and family would think if they saw me now. What about my surviving children, Daniel, Chris, Avery, and their and Jillian’s families, what would they think? How would they react?”

  A subtle yet fleeting moment of terror passed through her as she thought about their reactions. Perhaps feelings of anger would surface and maybe even a sense of jealousy would boil through their blood, fester within their minds, and flow to freedom through their actions, but then her mind grew clear, and she realized how her family had always been kind and understanding.

  The more her neural nanos created additional healthy links in her mind, the more Vesha realized how wonderful this entire experience was. It was clearer to her now, she had raised her children to respect noble pursuits, to love life, and appreciate the splendor of shared time. Vesha then thought how anyone of a healthy mind would be overjoyed and gracious, especially if they had been given this set of circumstances.

  As more memories of her mortal life surfaced, she found herself thinking out loud, “I loved my family then, and I still do now. Nevertheless, I suppose this is my life and my reality now to choose whatever whim and detail I wish with reckless abandon and with no more doubt of self-expression; there’s much ahead. Wow, Yesha!”

  With an immediate sense of guilt that hung over from Vesha’s previous life and her commitment to her values and doubts, it was as if pulsating waves of thoughts about her parents, her husband, and children had crept in and her concern arose again. This time she was worried that she was merely justifying her current reality, simply because she was happy with it. It took Vesha a moment to find a sense of clarity with this new wave of thoughts.

  The constraints she put on herself were hers alone to deal with. They were not sourced in from any other direction. As the neural nanos cleared the areas of her mind that were capable of taking an outside view of experiential relativity, as if it were a game on the field, she shook it off, “I abided by the values my parents espoused throughout my life and I still appreciate everything I was taught, learned, and subsequently shared with my children. They grew up to be wonderful people. They were individuals who I still respect and love, no matter how they expressed themselves. It’s now my turn to live and be free to express myself how I desire, and to be loved while living free and by my own whims,” she voiced out loud.

  As Vesha coached herself, she felt the freedom of her new reality sweep in and then she rejected her concerns and worries, because they were her very own critical views of herself, ones she had deemed the judgments of others, but they instead were perceptions she had of yesteryear, “Now is a new day. I have slept for some time, and I have no memories whatsoever of that timeless slumber. I can remember my life as clear as day now, before this moment that I am currently experiencing, and I can see who I am. I mean, I can’t help it, look at me, there she is before me. My inner and outer beauty are connected and sharing the same message!

  “Here I am now, and though I thought I had died, I’m quite alive, and, Wow! I feel more alive than ever, with potential oozing from every pore. My reflection tells me I’m ravishing! I can’t stop looking, I’m so amazed! Who am I? Wait, I’m myself, but younger, yet with all of my memories coming in as if they were yesterday, or a few minutes ago! What’s the breadth of the changes? What can I do? What are my limits?”

  “Fancy you asked,” said Yesha, smiling and proud of Vesha’s first responses. Yesha understood Vesha’s reactions, because she had been in her shoes, at least to a certain degree before. Although she had never actually died, she remembered how it fe
lt as every cell quivered into some sort of euphoria before releasing her inner will and finding the immensity of joy that comes with an optimized body and mind. On the day that she and Eliza had used the biopods for the first time, she too had had her mind racing with questions she never thought to ask before, and then like that, a surge of answers streamed in moments later with complete clarity. Fortunately, she was not alone in that experience, because both she and Eliza had pioneered the first biopod trial ever, and together.

  Yesha was pleased with all aspects of Vesha’s reactions to everything she beheld and felt.

  Vesha showed depth in character, even signs that she indeed was the woman Yesha had grown to admire for more than two decades. She admired the fact that Vesha was embracing her new and wondrous reality so quickly.

  Bringing Vesha Celeste back from the dead required a lot of science, a lot of care, and a lot of hard work, and as a result, Yesha Alevtina was glad that her heavy involvement in the full spectrum of results was reciprocated through Vesha’s excitement.

  “You are still the amazing you that you always were, Vesha. You are now a magnified and miraculous result of a collaborative effort of science, of love, and of dedication. You are a twenty-two-year-old version of you, with some extra, pleasant, and optimum aspects to your entire range of abilities and aesthetic, your physiology, and your physical and neural capacities.

  “In theory, your limits are few, but your nature is benevolent to the core. I’ve seen you, known you, and appreciate everything about you. Since you are innately capable of benevolent actions and virtuous internal character, your abilities will multiply with little chance of losing them. Someone would practically have to hurl you into the Sun to harm you to any effect, and I’m sure you might even be able to endure that and come out okay.