(Continued from 4D (Part 1): Metropolis Dreamscape)
4D is traversable.
To get there, I am either instantly transported there via dreams or someone transports me there by various means. If, however, I need to get there without dreaming, I have to find the locations that will allow me to slip in between space.
Let me explain it as I experienced it.
Imagine the in-between as a barely concealed covering over a square cut hole in a wall in some poorly lit hallway of the utilitarian areas of a shopping mall. This is my entry point. I cannot simply walk through the mall to get to 4D, you see, because I would still be walking within the 3D world. I cannot even fly above the mall (or go under the mall) to get to the other side, because it is not on the other side.
It is on the other side.
I only need to find those openings (and they are very predictably placed, in designated spots that are clearly marked to make it easy for workers and travelers). I can see its placement by simply looking for the shimmering veil-like edges which don’t quite match the actual wall. To go through, I reach out, part the covering (it’s made of some type of rough drapery material that matches the color of the paint on the wall) and climb through. Once I am inside the hole, it is tall enough so that I can stand up. I usually find myself in darkness, but it’s not an absolute darkness. There is ambient light everywhere.
Under my feet is dirt, but everywhere on top of that dirt is shiny glittery objects, lying scattered, as if they had fallen off transport vehicles inside mines, on their way to be processed. They look like precious metals in blues, greens, pinks, and golds. I pick one up to inspect it and find that it feels like a smooth, flat river rock, except that it is metallic in nature, and very, very light. I am tempted to take one of those rocks so I can examine it better in a brighter area. Alas, I cannot get past my honest-ometer that determines this to be theft of another’s property, so I put the metallic rock back where I find it.
Looking past the short alleyway, I see a cavernous opening ahead and walk forward. There are two nondescript guys, driving something that looks like transport vehicles. They are obviously working in the mine, and they see me, but ignore my presence. They obviously do not find it odd to see me there.
I move past them and continue my trek in the direction that I remember I have to traverse to get to where I needed to go. I had been shown how to make this journey many times in the past by Old Dude. It was supposed to have been memorized, but this particular instance is troublesome as I keep getting lost. I would find the opening to where I think I need to exit, climb through, and pop right back into 3D. I would clamber back in and continue wandering around, trying to find my way back, but once I get lost the first time around, it is nearly impossible to regain my sense of direction.
I have a sense of why this is so.
You see, I have to retain in my mind, the crow’s direction, no matter which way I turn in the dark alley. It’s always as the crow flies. Add to that confusion, the space in between the wall is not always filled with oddness, not always dimly lit.
Sometimes, that hole in the wall takes me into a sun-drenched cobble-stone rue with a Parisian cathedral as the backdrop. Still, I have to know the general direction that I must take, to get there and then find the exit point, which is another fabric-draped hole in the wall.
In this instance, I got lost. But before I go into the experiences of being lost, I need to explain, in less vague-fantasy terminology, what 4D is and how it can be mentally processed.
(continue to4D – 3: The Topology of Pastries)