I pressed the wine into the glass, separated the pieces and watched as the wine stayed in one spot.
There are difficult things, and there are impossible things, but they are never the same things. Difficult things are hard to do, with a great effort required, and sometimes you never quite finish them. Impossible things are merely impossible. No effort required. You barely need to think about them. No need to expend any energy attempting them.
The man looked nonplussed, but I was amazed. He led me to the suit. I knew it had been a trick somehow, but I didn’t know how it was done. I got inside. It tingled for a bit, and then flickered. I was no longer in the room.
The only trick is that you must learn how to tell when something is extremely hard and when it is merely impossible. Quite often, what seems impossible is simply a case of not having all the information – even in this age. Sometimes it is just a matter of perspective.
I stood on the water, familiar sights surrounding me, and started to take off the helmet. An alarm went off. Apparently, this was not water, but liquid methane. The suit was keeping me warm and alive, and I was no longer on Earth. I began to worry. A tiny sliver of my mind still sensed a trick. This scene disappeared.
More than you might think, these things we encounter are not impossible – not exactly. They are mutually exclusive. You can see all the possibilities before you, but once you choose something, lots of other possibilities disappear. The more choices you make, the more alternate choices disappear. Much of the time, the choices are irreversible. This can be a good thing – sometimes people get paralyzed by too many choices. Either they try to choose two different things and are unable to fully enjoy either of them, or they sit still, stuck, making no choice at all besides silence.
It didn’t matter to me which way was right in the room. I took off the suit and started walking in the orientation I was in. I sensed no movement, no pivoting. When I changed the dimension in which I walked, gravity followed me, even if I stopped and turned around, or suddenly changed my mind. This was no illusion. I had to believe my eyes and my senses. Questioning them, while potentially worth exploring, would likely only waste time.
He waited at the “bottom” of a set of stairs. “So, does this universe interest you? Is it everything you wished?”
“Yes. This will do. Thank you. Just show me how everything works, and I’ll-”
“The system instructs you how to use it. It is entirely self-contained. I need to be available for other universes, and other patrons. I assure you, there is nothing that won’t be answered or explained, given enough time.”
All systems have meaning, and are inherently consistent. Inconsistent systems unravel relatively quickly unless someone is expending huge amounts of energy to maintain them. Impossible things are easy. They take less time and effort, and have a lasting calming effect. As calming as a sunset on a distant planet, familiar yet strange.
Just like life.