The Viewer

Empty your mind.
I heard it. The thought. It near freaked me out enough so as to cause me to lose that state of noneness I took myself into.
Empty your mind.
It was speaking again, only not so scary the second time. Was that my mind talking to me? Was I making the words up? I wasn’t sure, but it also wasn’t the usual voice I heard in my head when I thought about things.
Empty your mind.
I decided I’d go with it. I returned to the noneness and floated there a bit.
Twenty-two degrees forty-one minutes South, fourteen degrees thirty-two minutes East.
Images flashed in front of my eyes. They were too quick for me to see, so I went back to the noneness and slowly repeated the co-ordinates to myself.
An ocean met the land. Sand dunes shimmered in the heat. I saw a town dotted with German architecture. And then I saw an elderly woman eating soup in her kitchen. A signpost on the side of the road. And a tiny shopping mall.
Wait.
I pulled back to the signpost. White text on a green background. SWAKOPMUND.
Congratulations.
I opened my eyes. Doctor Dierkson offered me a glass of water. I felt disoriented, like a part of me was still in that town I just saw.
“So, how’d it go?” the Doc asked.
He looked more relaxed than… how long was it since we started?
“How long it take?” I asked.
“Thirty seconds.”
“What!” I spluttered on the water. The Doc laughed at me.
“Either you screwed up real bad or you’re a natural,” he said.
The door to his room opened. Captain General Wilkinson, as he liked to call himself, entered and walked right on over to me.
“Marshall Henry Peters,” he ordered, “you are now the property of the Namibian Defence Force. Get your ass up outta that chair and come with me.”