[MUD-Dev] What about drugs?

[Jon A. Lambert]

> From: Nathan Yospe <yospe at hawaii.edu>
> To: Mud Design Mailing List <mud-dev at null.net>
> 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated.
> 

A high-velocity dart waggled its directing fins as it spun at him.  It was, he realized as he watched it descend toward him, a
LSD-tipped dart; the hallucinogenic ergotic alkaloid derivative a unique instrument for reducing the enemy to a condition in which
he was absolutely neutralized.  Sharp, quick pain snuffed at his arm; the dart had plunged into him.  He had now only a few minutes
ahead; that realization alone generally took the target out: to know, under conditions such as these, that very shortly the entire
self-system; the structure of world character which had developed stage by stage over the years from birth on--

His thoughts ceased.  The LSD had reached the cortical tissue of his frontal lobe and all abstract mentational processes had
instantly shut down.  He still saw the world, saw the THL soldier leisurely reloading the dart-releasing rifle....
Color, Rachmael thought as he saw the transformation in the THL soldier's face; the transformation had already set in... He watched
the lips of the THL soldier become bright, phosphorescent, shiny-pink luminosity; the lips forming a perfect bow, then floated off,
detached themselves from the soldier's face, leaving behind the ordinary colorless lips...  The THL soldier, his weapon reloaded,
started away, already searching for the next target.. Rachmael could be forgotten; even now he no longer lived in the shared world,
no longer existed.  Rachmael raced after the soldier; with no lapse of time, with no sense of intervening space, he clutched at the
soldier, dragging him aside and took possession of the long-bladed throwing knife holstered at the man's waist.  Choking him with
his left arm Rachmael yanked the blade backward in an arc which reversed itself.. In Rachmael's hands the knife became something he
did not know.

The thing which he held in his hands ceased its horizontal motion.  It moved, but in another direction which was neither up nor
forward; he had never seen this direction and its weirdness appalled him, because the thing in his hand moved without moving: it
progressed and yet stayed where it was.... His gazed fixed, he watched the shining, brittle, transparent thing elaborate itself,
produce from its central column slender branches like glass stalagmites; in a series of lurches, of jumps forward into the
nonspacial dimension of altered movement, the tree thing developed until its complexity terrified him... And still it grew...  

The soldier smiled. It was amazing he still lived after so many centuries.

"The Unteleported Man" - Phillip K. Dick


JL

I'm the Dragon of Grindly Grun, but my lunches aren't very much fun,
For I like my damsels medium rare, And they always come out well done.

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