Entry 9: An eerie letter

Hey everyone,
It's pretty late here. Been a long day. It's been a while since I've posted, though, and I don't what you guys to get bored. So here's a creepy letter from Thomas during his stay at Boston Corner.

And a transcript:

"Barnes,

God, they’re here! The phantoms have followed me! I woke up in the middle of the night and knew they were at the window. I didn’t even have to open my eyes. I could sense them. Three? Maybe more. I didn’t want to look. Didn’t want them to know I was aware of them. I tried to go back to sleep, but I could feel their eyes (do they truly even have eyes as we would understand them?) upon me. I got up, staring at the floor, and closed the curtains without daring to look up even once. I doubt that really did much good, though. I could still feel them watching me. At some point, though, I must have fallen asleep. It was morning when I next opened my eyes.

I still feel their presences everywhere. It’s so hot out today, but I feel cold. The Astarapomp has told me they are attracted by the energy of the portals. He implied that they were just animals feeding off the energies of the doorways.  But I know that is not true. They are sentient. They seek out the portals- they seek out me!- for a reason that has the clear feel of intelligence behind it. I do not like that the Astarapomp is keeping something secret from me.

I need to clear my head. I’m going to walk to the drug store to get that film, then I’ll head back to the hemlocks and take some pictures of those bog plants. Write more later.

. . . . . . . . . . . .    .

It’s evening now.

The bog plants were gone. Not a trace remains. It’s as if someone pulled up every single one. Did the black phantoms take them? Why? So much for photographing them.

I found something better, though. I finally located that roof gable from the other world. And more! I found workers from the machine race. The ones I saw in the intergalactic hub. Their biological parts had rotted away, but the mechanical portions were still intact. At least I was able to get some pictures of them. I’m collecting their remains this time. Don’t want them vanishing like the bog plants. You can look them over when I return and tell me what you think.

The gable is in a weird location. There aren’t any trees nearby that I can climb to get a good picture 

of it. But I’ll see what I can manage.

I’ll be staying a few more nights, I think. Not sure what I’m going to do here. But something tells me I should remain in the area. I have had this feeling before. Perhaps the Astarapomp will contact me again. Perhaps the portal will open. I do not know.

At the very least, I can use the down time to catch up on my reading and edit this brochure I’m writing about the Townsend Lighthouse Library for the display going up. You know I was finally able to get access to the Katherine Whig Collections? God, they keep that thing locked up so tight. Luckily I knew the Collections clerk from that piece I did on the Voynich Manuscript exhibit a few years ago. I was able to chat him up enough to let me take a look.

I just looked out the window. Night is coming. Will the phantoms return? God, I won’t be able to sleep at all tonight.

                                               

                                                            Tom"

Entry 8: Two letters and some strange drawings

Happy New Year everyone! I've got a little downtime between scanning sets of slides, so I figured I'd post some more letter's from Dr. Barnes' file. I'm starting to wonder more and more about what's really going on here. Maybe there's more to this than just an elaborate science fiction story?

Here's the transcript:

"Dear Barnes,

It was so nice to see you at the conference last week. I’ve missed our little get-togethers. I think the pub afterwards might have been the best time I’ve had in months. This job really gets to me sometimes, you know? People think artists have it easy, but it’s like any other job. I hope Ellen returns that stuffed blue jay she swiped, though.

I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to ask.  Has the committee approved your grant yet? I hope they do.  Sillman can be a real lazy bastard, though.

I’m heading back up to Boston Corner for a few days next week to investigate the connection that place has with my dreams. And to investigate that weird floating roof gable in the forest. The connection is stronger there. The dreams more vivid. I see the Astarapomp so much clearer there.

God, I hope I don’t see the phantoms again. I get such an aura of cold malice from them. They do not like that my dreams take me to those places out beyond the pull of Earth and the familiar planets.  I do not know why it angers them so much. They stayed far far away last time, but I’m afraid to contemplate what might happen. I would like to see another Bubble-Comet, though. My sketches really don’t do them justice. They’re like ghosts flickering with St. Elmo’s fire. I need to do at least a watercolor of them.

I’ll send you more letters once I get there. I found a nice little bed and breakfast. Really, the only hotel in the place. I don’t think the town is more than a dozen buildings, plus the railway. I hear the views from the Taconic Mountains are spectacular, though.

I took your advise with regard to the soldiers at the Schenectady Stockade. I’ll show you the changes I made when I get back.

Thomas

P.S. Sorry- that book on the microbialites is still checked out. I’m beginning to wonder if the borrower stole it. I’ll keep checking."

And here's one of his letters from Boston Corner

"Dear Barnes,

I arrived at Boston Corner this morning. Still getting settled in. Like I said before, it’s a small town. Not even a town, really. A hamlet would be more accurate.

The place I’m staying at is lovely. As the name says, it’s a preserved colonial saltbox house. I was surprised at first at how young the owners were, but the manager told me she’d inherited the place from her great aunt and had turned it into a rental to keep it from falling to pieces. The places is full of artifacts, and little plaques everywhere like a museum. I’ve always wanted to sleep in a museum.

Went for a walk up into the foothills, looking for that piece of gable roof up in the sky. Couldn’t remember where it was. Most of the area around the town is hemlock forest, which makes the woods dark and brooding. There is a feeling of presence. As of something waiting. Watching. Holding its breath expectantly. I tried not to think about the phantoms.

I was going to take some pictures on my walk, but the film in my camera is all used up. I’ll have to check at the drug store tomorrow to see if they have any on hand.

I came across a little peat bog nestled in some boulders and I swear I have never seen some of these plants anywhere else. There were the usual cranberry bushes, cat-tails and sundews, but these others I could not place. I admit I am no botanist, but I feel I have a pretty good grasp of New England flora, and these were unlike anything I’ve run across before. Yet I could not help feeling a strange sense of familiarity. As if I have, in fact, seen them somewhere. As drawings, perhaps? But where? I do not for the life of me know.

I took a couple samples so I can look them up at the library when I get home. I also did some drawings of them and made some ecological notes.  One that I’m calling the Fig Flower gave off an audible buzz and a distinct pungent smell of rotting meat. When I cut open a pod, I found it was absolutely filled with flies. But I don’t think they were food. They were dusted with pollen. I’m assuming the rotting smell must attract them. An amazing find. I’ll have to locate some more later in the season and see if I can get some seeds to plant.

Had an odd incident while coming back to the bed and breakfast. I saw a black bird soaring overhead. A turkey vulture, maybe? Didn’t really pay much attention at first, but gradually I noticed something didn’t seem right about it. The way it flew was. . . off. I can’t describe it very well. I don’t know why, but I had this odd impression that the thing was not comfortable flying. As if moving through air was a strange new sensation for it. At times it almost seemed like a paper cutout moving against a screen. The weirdest part was when it flew into a cloud bank. At least, I’m assuming that’s what happened, because it just sort of faded into the gray sky. But I swear, it didn’t so much fade as come apart, as if it were a stuffed toy and someone pulled its stitchings out. Just before it vanished, it appeared to fall apart into several pieces. I don’t want to start jumping to supernatural conclusions. But considering all the strange things that have been happening to me lately, I just don not know what to think.

Anyway, it’s getting late here and I’m tired. I’ll write again tomorrow evening.

                                                                Sincerely,

                                                                 Thomas"

I think these two pictures are the strange plants he was referring to. Anybody have any ideas what these are?

Here's the front of one.

In case you can't read Thom's handwriting, these are the notes from top to bottom:

"Devil's Cupola

 Asteroidean name: "single wave of three longest tube feet on arm 4. Double wave of three longest tube feet on 5th arm."

"Flower is red. Perhaps to attract a hummingbird analog?"

"red cupola" 

"devil horn leaves"

"minute hairs on stalk"

"I have seen no bees, nor bee flies, nor beetles enter the flower"

"Dead leaves around base. Ground under leaves remains moist even when surrounding soil is dry. Perhaps to retain water?"

I'm guessing "Asteroidean" is his term for the starfish-creatures he's been seeing?

Here's the back of this sheet.

The writing says:

"Modular rhizome"

"Could not grow plants from tubers" 

"Devil's cupola leaf"

"Perhaps related to the Aristolochiaceae?"

Based on his comment about not being able to grow from a tuber, I'm guessing he found some more at some point maybe?

Here's the other mystery plant.

"Fig Flower

Asteroidean name: Three waves of three longest tube feet on arm 1. Simultaneous triple wave of one long tube foot on 3rd arm"

"Large, wrinkled, purple pods."

"Small white flowers around lip"

"each pod has several holes eaten in it, perhaps by wasps?"

"young leaves are stiff and spiney (sic)"

"Plants are surrounded by an audible buzzing from all the flies trapped inside."

"mature leaves have numerous feather-like lobes."

"base is bulbous. The base of every fig flower pant had mushrooms growing around it. Possible in the family Strophariaceae. Perhaps a symbiote?"

And here's the back

"Interior of Pod"

"Possibly related to the Araceae?"

"Many pods have holes eaten in them, possibly by wasps. Are they eating the flies?

"The pods are pollen traps similar to an Arum or Ceropagia rhyncantha. Flies enter the narrow opening, which is surrounded by white flowers that smell of rotting meat. Inside, the walls are covered with hairs that push the flies deeper. The center of the pod is filled with a gigantic pollen-covered stamen, which thoroughly coats the flies. After two days, the pod wilts and cracks, releasing the pollen-covered flies. I have not seen any female pods yet."

"What will be the effect of this pollen getting into our world?"

I'll have more updates coming soon, so keep watching!

Entry 7: A letter and some strange photos

Wow, finally got some free time again. Sorry about the wait. We found a whole bunch of microscopic photos in this old supply closet buried behind a bunch of prep lab equipment. I still smell like dust and formaldehyde.

So I dug out some pretty amazing photos from Professor Barnes' filing cabinet. I don't know how old this stuff is, but the cut-and-paste is pretty amazing.

I think I must have missed a letter somewhere because Thom talks about some "notes" that he hasn't mentioned before. He also drops all these names- Asakili, Thorn Moon, T'talatch- as if Barnes already knows what they mean.  I'll hunt through the cabinet again and see if I can find something else that talks about these notes. In the meantime, enjoy.

First, the letter:

And a transcript:

"Barnes,

Here are those pictures we talked about.  The notes I found were a huge help in identifying the scenes through the Window. 

I took these on June 15th and 16th in Boston Corner.  I wish I'd taken a few more, though.  When I came back to the swamp on the 17th, the Window had closed up.  Although the notes say that Windows cycle to a different arm on the Hub every 34 days.  If I have correctly identified the path that connects to our solar system, then the Window should cycle back to Earth in about 5-6 months.  I will see what headway I can get with these notes before it's return. I’m still trying to decide whether I want to share my discoveries with the Astarapomp. The notes seem curiously hostile towards him, though I do not yet know why.

Here are my interpretations of the photos:

1.) A view of one of the Watchers in the solar system on Arm 3.  Two large moons or planets in the foreground.  I think the larger one may be Asakili.  I believe the two brighter dots in the upper left are also planets at a greater distance.

2.) A view under the arm of the Watcher, looking at a Long World. Possibly T'talatch?  Along with two moons in the lower left

3.) A view of the Thorn Moon from above the surface of the Watcher.  I believe the rounded, white objects may be the Sleeping Mountains the notes referred to.

4.) A view from the upper atmosphere of the Long World, T'talatch, looking at the Thorn Moon.  Taken three hours after the other pictures near dusk on the 16th.  I am unclear why this is the only time where the Window has actually entered the atmosphere of a moon.

5.) Several Phantoms in what I believe to be the Valley of Il-tho. I didn’t see them when I first took the picture. God, those eyes haunt me.

6.) A view of the Window in a swamp near  Booston Corners.  Have I told you the theory about why Massachusetts really gave up Boston Corners to New York? I’m still gathering information, but we can talk about it in more detail when I see you again.

                                                                                               

                                                                                                Thomas"

And here are the photos:

Note that Thom calls these dark figures "Phantoms" in this letter and others, but on the back of this photo he calls them "Revenants".

I'll have some more letters to post soon. In the meantime, enjoy!

Entry 6: A letter

Hey everyone,
It's pretty late and I've had a long day at the lab. But I wanted to post this last letter from the first batch. It gives a little more insight into that starfish-man Thom has been talking about.

And here's the text (with Thom's corrections edited out):

"Dear Barnes,

The old typewriter is back today. Lowercase g is still off, but I guess I can deal with that.

I got a better look at the Asterapomp in last night’s journey. Before he was smoky, phantasmal. But now I can see him with good clarity.  When I asked him about this, he said something about synchronizing his pattern more in line with my time and space dimensions.

He’s a starfish-man, Barnes. That’s as close as I can come to it. The mosaic scales covering his body look like starfish ossicles. Those four fat tentacles on the bottom are clearly starfish arms now. As are the wizard-hats on top. The wriggling things I saw inside it are tube-feet. I don’t know if this makes him less or more bizarre.

I’ll admit right now I know almost nothing about my host who has been leading me through this nocturnal phantasmagoria. The Asterapomp’s appearance raises some intriguing questions. He is echinoderm, but there are obvious human elements to his anatomy. The five faces set around his center, for one. The overall features are quite human-- particularly the noses. But, I don’t know, they seem more like someone’s impression of what a human face looks like rather than actual human features. And those strange gecko eyes. The mouths clearly do not have even remotely hominid mandibles holding them up. The way they move, they seem more like teeth-shaped plates embedded in the body wall- specially modified dermal ossicles, perhaps?

His five hands have thumbs on both sides like Clarke’s Overlords. The fingers are jointed, but they do not seem like human hands. I have the distinct impression they are starfish that have been modified into hands. Perhaps for my comfort?

I have not been able to get much of his history out of him. He is quite evasive on the matter. It is clear from his name-- like psychopomp- that he is meant to be a bridge.  He did say that there are other beings that I will meet soon. Beings like him, but not like me. More like his echinoderm half, perhaps? Am I going to met gigantic starfish?

On occasion I have seen him bearing a staff that resembles a Khakkhara or sistrum. He would jangle it lightly as he walked, the sound of which apparently caused other beings at the hub-station to move out of his way. Is it a staff of office? Or is it’s resemblance to the Buddhist monk’s instrument more than coincidental. I thought perhaps it was a control key to open the world-gates, but I have witnessed him opening them when he did not have this instrument.

 I’ve noticed that it bears decorations that resemble the Bubble-Comets. I have also seen representations of these creatures in frescoes around the hub stations. They are clearly important to the Asteroideans in some way. As incubation vessels, perhaps? I recall seeing a few embryonic starfish inside the “ghosts” at Boston Corner. But the Comet’s seem to be more important than just brood chambers.

Also, I finally got around to drawing some of those ships I saw in my dream where I went to the gate-hub. I’ve included them on the back of this sketch of the Asterapomp. My meager sketches don’t do the real ships justice at all, but at least they’ll hopefully give you some idea of the bizarre diversity of interplanetary vehicles and visitors that came to the hub.

I anticipate more dream journeys tonight. I’ll send you another letter with my findings.

 Thomas

P.S. I’ve finished the Schenectady Stockade piece. Though, I’d like your opinion on the accuracy of the British soldiers. Do you know where I can find a good portrait of Colonel John Bradstreet?

P.P.S. I tracked down that book on the Pavilion Lake microbialites. It’s checked out now, but I’ll grab it as soon as it’s back in."

Also, I noticed this interesting little doodle on the back of the last page:

Make of that what you will.

There are still several more packets of letters to go through. I'll upload some more stuff soon once I get a free moment.

Entry 5: The Watcher drawing

Hey everyone,
Just a quick update here. I finally found that Watcher drawing that Thom mentioned back in entry 3. It was folded up inside a copy of Invertebrate Zoology in Dr. Barnes' desk. Man, she was a bit of a pack-rat. I must have tossed out at least twenty used sandwich bags from that drawer. And a couple paint jars that must have been decades old.

Anyway, here you go.

This one also has a better depiction of those "bubble-comets" he keeps talking about. Not that this drawing helps clarify what they actually are.

I'll try to upload some more stuff soon.

Entry 4: Another Letter and A Drawing

Hey everyone.

It's the middle of the night, but I'm having trouble sleeping. Not really sure why. I have insomnia sometimes, I guess. But this feels a little different. For some reason I keep thinking about this strange guy I met outside the museum. Short dude dressed in this cream-colored suit that seemed a size too short for him. Smiled a lot. He said he was with a survey board and he wanted to ask me a couple questions. I hate surveys, but I also have a hard time being mean to a guy who's just doing his job. Anyway, he started asking me stuff about Dr. Barnes. But it was odd stuff, like how many shoes had she owned. And what colors. What were her favorite drinks. How many people were in her family. Nothing actually substantial.

And here's the weirdest thing- he had a clipboard, but he didn't actually write on it. Just kept rattling off questions. Eventually I asked him if he was going to write anything down, and he just sort of looked at the clipboard like he had no idea what it was. Like someone had just put it in his hand and sent him outside.  After a moment he pulled a pencil out of his pocket and started scribbling on the page. It broke in the middle of our conversation so I offered him my pen. And again, he looked at it like he'd never seen a pen before. He stared at it with this almost child-like look of wonder in his eyes. And then he just put it in his pocket and kept asking me about the age of Dr. Barnes' siblings, and at what time had she normally eaten dinner, without bothering to write on his clipboard.

And he smiled the whole damn time.

I humored him for a while, but finally told him I had to leave.  I don't know why I keep thinking about this guy. I mean, I've run into plenty of eccentric people on the subway in New York. Not sure what's so different about him.

Anyway, here's another crazy letter from the Dossier.

And here's a transcript in case you can't read it:

"Barnes,

My typewriter broke yesterday. I brought it into the shop this morning, but I could not wait until tomorrow to buy more before I write this down. I don’t want to lose it from my memory. So I’m using a typewriter at work to type this.

Tonight the Astarapomp took me through a gate. A swirling pool floating in the air. Inside it was- well I can’t say exactly. So much was flying at me as I went through the door. I saw lights glowing in an undulating sea. Or maybe they were stars? I got the impression that they were alive, somehow. Like those bioluminescent copepods we found in the water at Smutty Nose. I saw streaks of light. Nebulae of super-heated gas? We flew towards one. A tower of glowing smoke, like a storm cloud.  And streaks of darkness passing before it. I got the impression that it was a tower bigger than our solar system, though I couldn’t fully wrap my mind around the size. There were little fingers-- I don’t know what else to call them. Fingers reaching out from the glowing cloud. Embryonic suns embedded in their tips. We approached one of the fingers. Towards a sun white like a pearl. There was something like a starfish floating there in space. Black against the luminous tower. A starfish of featureless obsidian. Seven arms, trailing off into nothing like wisps of smoke. And a heart glowing blue like lightning. At first I thought it was a strange new kind of Watcher. But no, that didn’t seem right.

Then I saw the cloud of gnats all around it. At least that’s what they looked like at first. But as we drew closer, I realized they were ships. Crafts from other intelligent races, Barnes!

I can barely even conceive of their shapes. Even now, trying to picture them hurts my head. None of them looked like the spaceships you see in the pulps. Not like airplanes designed for space travel. They seemed organic. Alive.

 I saw one like a torus covered with needles that were constantly rotating in towards the center.

There was a spindle covered in barnacles. Somehow the sweeping of their arms propelled it through space.

One was a polygon that kept folding into more and more complex shapes.  It must have been nearly the size of Jupiter! There was something like an ammonite at the center of it, orbited by tiny moons. I think they were moons, anyway.  Gray and covered with craters. I wonder now if the whole structure might have been an entire planetary system encapsulated within a shifting crystal shell.

As we slowed, we passed close to a veined, transparent egg about the size of a large dog. Inside were hundreds of what looked like snail shells suspended from thin silk strands all pointing towards what seemed to be an elongated, luminescent worm hovering in the center of the structure. Spider-looking things as big as a thumbnail were crawling in and out of the shells and around the vessel.

There were so many more, Barnes! So many that I can’t even describe. I’ve sketched a few of them, and I’ll try to make a few more detailed drawings later to send to you.

We continued to approach the center of the odd Watcher thing. My memory gets a little hazy here, but I recall being enveloped in a thick, crimson mist. Then my feet touched a glassy plain. We must have been inside the heart of the thing. there was red light everywhere, produced by what I at first assumed was a ring of eight crimson moons in the sky. I thought it odd that the moons were arranged in two separate rows of four. I couldn’t see them clearly, for there were huge castles of vermillion cumulonimbus clouds obscuring most of the sky. But I swear I saw both sets of moons move slowly, the satellites staying in sequence as if they were linked. I couldn’t help thinking of them as bioluminescent spots on the backs of immense caterpillars.

The Astarapomp told me this was a gateway hub. That this was a place of doors to other worlds. Other universes. His creators have many of them scattered throughout the multiverse. A highway across space and time. The arms fading into nothing are the paths, bleeding into the other places.

After a while I saw the Living Machines. They were everywhere. Floating through the air, crawling on the ground, swimming beneath that glass floor.  They looked like animals. Many looked like protists. I consulted a book from the library later, and I swear some of them were like ciliates and amoeba and things called “Chrysopyxis”, “Stichotricha” and “Dictyostelium”. There were bigger animals too, like some of those weird fossils we saw at the museum in B.C.

They seemed alive, and yet their insides were gears. Tiny, intricate gears finer than those of a Swiss clock. Gears held within matrices of silver filaments-- perhaps those were the mechanisms that moved them? They were everywhere! The Astarapomp said they’d built the hub. That they controlled it. His people found them on a distant world and used their technology to create the doorways.

I want to study them in more detail. But it’s hard to study such fine detail in dreams. Or are these actual travels? I can’t tell the next morning. Perhaps I can persuade him to let me take one of the Living Machines home to examine.

I’ll keep you updated.

Thomas"

I looked for these sketches he mentioned, but could only find this drawing of those "Living Machines":

Also, this was on the other side:

I have absolutely no idea what this is supposed to be. Some kind of robot? And what the heck is a "New Motive Power"? I'll keep looking to see if he talks about it any more.  And I'll try to dig up those other sketches he talked about. They've got to be around here somewhere.

Anyway, it's super late and I'm finally starting to feel sleepy. Goodnight all.

Entry 3: Another letter, Another Weird Drawing, and Some Hasty Notes

Finally got some time away from scanning Dr. Barnes' slides. Here's another letter from the portfolio. It's a longer one. Three pages. After reading it, it looks like there's a missing illustration about something called a "Watcher". I'll look around her office and see if I can find it.

This "Eye of the Awakened Sleeper" is intriguing. I'm guessing this must be one of those gravitational lenses that Thomas' previous note hinted at.

I found the envelope he talks about in his letter. The sketches are pretty crude, but I'm assuming Thomas will elaborate on them in the rest of these sketches.

Here's a transcription:

"Barnes,

I had a dream. I know what was under that black mask concealing my memories.

 It all came so fast. So many images flashing by. I feel as if I was being thrown through space. Past world after world after world. Each one passing in seconds. And maybe I was, if I was indeed passing through one of those multi-armed hubs. The Astarapomp said he would show me the-- but I’m getting way ahead of myself.

After the dream, I woke up with my mind overflowing. I grabbed an old envelope on my nightstand and tried to get everything I could think of down at once. I’m afraid it’s all rather scribbled, but I was trying to get it all out fast as I could before it vanished from my mind, you see.  I can show you the original next time we meet if you really want.

After I had a chance to sit and process what I’d seen, I started making drawings to better describe the things. Those I’m including with this letter. I’ve labeled each page so you can follow along with my notes. There are still some things I don’t understand about what I wrote. What are living cogs? What is the Machine God? What of Boston Corner? I know it’s a city on the border of New York, but what is its importance? Who is Spears? So many questions. I wish I’d written more notes.  I’m hoping that meditating will reveal more to me. Perhaps a trip to Boston Corner is in order.

But for now, here are the parts I can recall.         

One.

 The Watcher. I glimpsed these before, in those dreams I told you, Susan and Ira about. The Astarapomp wouldn’t tell me exactly what they were. He seemed oddly hesitant about them. Just that they were The Watchers.  Giant starfish. Big as Jupiter. I figured out they’ve got a central eye made from dozens of interlocking photosensitive lenses. Kind of like an OSO telescope.  I got a sense-- like I was gleaning the Asterapomp’s thoughts (I felt as though I was standing on the beach of the Astarapomp’s mind and the waves were his thoughts lapping at my feet. Or my own mind, rather). Anyway, yes, I got a sense from his thoughts that the Watchers are looking fr for something. The Eye of the Awakened Sleeper, perhaps?

There is life on the surfaces of the Watchers. Their own ecosystems amongst the spines and bumps and pedicillariae. I couldn’t get close enough this time to see what that life was, but I distinctly recall seeing movement as we flew over the giant’s pebbled surface.     

I’ve seen more of those Bubble Comets near the Watcher. I think they’re attracted to them for some reason. Though I’ve never seen one land on the surface, or really interact with it much at all.

Two.

Eye of the First Awakened. I saw a star circled by a broken ring. The black night behind it speckled with more stars like mica dust. The Astarapomp claimed this is the eye of their first ancestor, watching its children. It is imperfect, though. A damaged eye.  He said it was damaged while trying to consume a Celestial Mussel? I don’t know what that is. Though, do you remember that stele Ira showed us at the museum? With the starfish? Remember that odd, bean-shaped structure attached to the starfish’s foot? Susan said it looked like a Mytilus edulis, complete with byssus threads anchoring it? I think she may be right. I’ll contact her and Ira soon. What an odd coincidence.

The Astarapomp referred to the broken sections of the ring as tide pools. There was the Tide Pool of the Nemertean, the Tide Pool of the Ambulacral Garden, the Tide Pool of the Glass Echiura and The Tide Pool of the Larval Sea. He also said the star at the center was the Gate to the First World. My head is spinnign as I try to understand what all of this could mean.

 I believe the Astarapomp, and whomever he serves, may be trying to find an undamaged eye. The Eye of the Final Awakened Sleeper. He showed me a model of it on some sort of floating screen. I thought it was a hologram display, but the floating lights were actually made of tiny worms no bigger than a hair. They emerged from something like an Edrioaster. What astounding technology.

Anyway, the Eye of the Awakened Sleepr is a complete circle of light surrounding a star. I have been trying to figure out what the objects are. Are they actual colossal eyes out in the depths of space? From a titan looking into our universe from elsewhere? Are they giant superstructures surround stars? Clouds of super-heated gas? Some unknown phenomenon? I refer to them as lensed galaxies on my envelope notes. I have no clue what that means.

I should note I dreamt about the Sleeper’s Eye a few times since before I met the Asterapomp. Even before I saw the Bubble Comets. It’s been in my dreams for about a year now. Sometimes broken. Sometimes a solid ring. Don’t know what it means.

So many mysteries. I await the coming of the Astarapomp in future dreams. I’ll keep you updated.

On an off-topic note, what did you think of the bacterial adhesion book? Sorry about the weird marks at the back. I asked the librarian about it. She said some pedantic student was trying to correct the grammatical errors. The publisher really should hire a better copyeditor.

I’m glad to hear Ellen is doing better. I’ll make some time in a week or so to come out and visit.

Thomas

P.S. It just occurred to me as I was looking back over this letter. I wonder if that stele Ira showed us somehow drew the Astarapomp to me. It seems odd that I’ve started having these visions now. But why no one else? Have you been having any dreams? I’ll ask Ira and Susan.

P.P.S. got another art commission. More from the Historical Society. A piece on the Schenectady Stockade. Hopefully they’ll pay me on time this time. I’m going to take a trip to the Mabee House for references. Would you and Ellen like to come? We can stop at Watkins Glen."

And here's that envelope he took notes on after he woke up

Here's one of the illustrations Thomas referenced in his letter.