Intergalactic Summit

I am afraid we can't understand each other until we define terms that we are using. You still haven't give a definition for an 'extra-sensory perception', but rather told where it is situated, even more confusing me, since I have no idea about parapsychology, how mane realms does it have and where they are.

Since it is related to pod pilots, well, I have counted five sensor types a pod pilot can operate. If it is 'seventh', than it is definitely not multispectral. So, what are sixth and seventh sensor types? And, if it is 'seventh', why it is 'extra-sensory'? And this picture of blood-covered eye-swollen pilot, is it what happens after pod depressurization?

And what has wool and string to do with it?

Radar, ladar, gravimetric, magnetometric and multispectral?

You know, almost every technology ever discovered (at least, majority of them) have found their first application for military purposes. New energy sources, new electronics, new data transfer technologies, etc etc. So, there's really nothing wrong in trying to apply something new in combat situation.

But, well, I can understand you, some people see this as uneasy, dangerous, and as a thing they don't want to be associated with. Ok, let's don't talk about it as a military application. Imagine that I'd like to try it more like for finding anomalies, hidden complexes, some pretty civilian stuff, and sh... stuff like that.

Mr. Caviar -bless you -you've touched upon an important point, coming, as you do, from Villore -the scene of the last year's Yule-loggers' Convention (who believes in co-incidences? Not I!)

Wearing the psychic sandals for a moment, I put the following emaciated prose to you. Please bear with.

*

In an averagely healthy, unmodified human:

-The skin can easily detect the most gentlest of caresses of a lover , the sudden onset of scabies or a grain of sand between the toes.

- The ear can as easily detect the caw of the single grave-side raven as it can the commotion of a faraway rotten suburb. The last sense to leave us when passing over to "the another side" as we true psychics like to call it.

-The eye can see 7,000,000 colours. Some of these are eyesores.

-The taste-buds can detect both sweet and sour or a combination of sublime nutritional components such as the fish and chip. (Insects have the most highly developed sense of taste. They have taste organs on their too-numerous-to-count feet, antennae, and nippers).

-The nose is the ultimate warning system, alerting us to danger signals such as a gas leak, spoiled food, or a troll. Any loss in our sense of smell can have a negative effect on our quality of life.

*

However, I put it to you, that before we examine the extra-sensory perception that your great-grandmother wisely alluded to we must explore the truest sixth sense.

Can you guess what that might be?

Sincerely,

Dr. G.S. php

Kenntt -may I call you Kenntt?

"I am enjoying the reading."

A lot of people say that to me before they leave my tent, or in the many messages -some flattering, some less so -that shower my data-links.

For example, one 'Alete' (we in the business (lower-case) use pseudonyms to protect identities) writes in:

"... bloody following me around Modlen (sic) Heath. Nut-job."

And so on.

But 'Alete' is clearly unsure of the concept of Astral Travel, even after many consultations.

Kenntt -if I may say so, you have a look of the angry skeptic about you -and there's nothing wrong with that. You grimace, yet you seek psychic wisdom with your eyes wide-open. (Unsurprisingly, your ancestors tell me they approve -but beware of snow-drifts).

"Or maybe what most perceive as their conscience."

Kenntt, now that we're friends, I put it to you that this question may best be answered by Lyn Farel, another summitter, whose tent is far, far, bigger than my own -and who often -and at great length -to the point of her own exhaustion -discusses matters of this nature. I wish you well.

No. Before we move to the paranormal instinct, we must identify the sixth sense -and it's clearly physiological.


With all best wishes,

Dr. G.S. Ph.P, Dr. I.P.

A group of horse-men approach, too numerous to count. A vibration beneath a dead landscape can be felt in the solar plexus many seconds before the eye registers them upon the ruddy, hazy horizon. They are as animated motes in the far distance but ride with desperate purpose. An opaque cloud of crimson dust follows them like the foam-wake of a sea-faring ship.

Within seconds or an aeon, some small detail is revealed. Their steeds are predominantly pie-balds or chestnuts but their riders remain as an indistinct focus. Featureless, they form part of the blur at the periphery of the dream. At the spear-head a man is hunched forward upon his own mount and she is of blackest dark, almost a vacuum beneath his boots. Thus, there is contrast where none should properly exist.

We see his face, now.

Above his head, his sun is in its death-throes. It casts his world in deep scarlet and he is utterly repelled by it. No calming greens to soothe, no blues to drown in -there is only a palette of reds left in his world that has so scant a time remaining to it. Nor are there shadows left to be formed in this world to provide respite. He had mourned their passing whilst he had the strength to as a young man, long ago.


The riders have ended their long journey.

Before his final breath, their leader nocks his single remaing arrow from his quiver and shoots it towards the sun. His teeth are cracked, broken. His tongue is parched.

But his aim is as true as it is useless.

Immediately the red star consumes him and his world and the dream is over.

*

That'll be one Million iskies, please.

Except Pax Amarria. Its cover is as dire as its contents.

Chirrup, chirrup,

"G.S" Ph.P etc.

Wow, a threatening "fortune" after I call you a nutter. How absolutely unforeseeable.

.....right.

That could be fun...

Especially if you hav'nt payed the lady her 1 million isky for the fortune.