clifford_a-_pickover_surfing_through_hyperspacebookfi-org

MIRROR WORLDS 127
"Me too." She places her hand on yours. "But you are sometimes too
intense. It scares me. You need to get more rest. It's late. Let's finish up
our discussion on the fourth dimension."
You nod. "Sally, a single 4-D God might appear as many Gods or
angels as He intersects the 3-D world. We could all be part of some 4-D
entity."
"I don't buy it. How could we all be part of a 4-D creature?"
"Sally, remember Figure 2.18 in which the footsteps of a 4-D creature
appear as two separate humans?"
"What are you talking about? 'Figure 2.18?' We're not in some kind of
book."
You nod. "Here's what P. D. Ouspensky said about it in his 1908 essay
'The Fourth Dimension':
We may have very good reason for saying that we are ourselves beings
of four dimensions and we are turned towards the third dimension
with only one of our sides, i.e., with only a small part of our being.
Only this part of us lives in three dimensions, and we are conscious
only of this part as our body. The greater part of our being lives in
the fourth dimension, but we are unconscious of this greater part of
ourselves. Or it would be still more true to say that we live in a fourdimensional
world, but are conscious of ourselves only in a threedimensional
world.
In another half hour, you are walking Sally back to her car at the FBI
headquarters parking garage. The hard heels of her black shoes resound
hollowly in the large, cement structure.
"Sally, tomorrow, we try to save the president."
"I'll come to your office at eight."
Once back in your office, you hold a handkerchief against your mouth
and nose. The smell of the place is much worse than you remember it.
There is a heavy smell, an odor of putrefaction. Probably the smell of
some of your leftovers or the remnants of some McDonald's hamburger
in the garbage.
You remove a sleeping bag from under your desk. For a moment, you
leave open the door to your office, to listen to any sounds in the hallway.
An FBI agent is often alone. Maybe you should have married when you
had the chance, years ago. But the timing was not right.