R7

She felt scraping against her neck. Swift, almost instinctive move adjusted the collar, but the discomfort was still there. Aproaching the hull of the subreality craft, she gave it a testing knock.

Indeed, she thought, if the submarine sails under the sea, how else to call the craft that travels under the horizon of physical reality. Do they even move? In the ship engine induced singularity, space didn't even exist. Maybe the better term would be a time machine? Well, no, that would be confusing. Time machine is a machine that travels in time, somehow pertaining to traveling to distant past or far future. This craft indeed sailed through time - just as each of us is sailing forward in time at steady pace of 24 hours a day - but physics involved behind the fact that they will at one point step out of the singularity was, maybe, too mindbending to have a proper name. Maybe time-ship was the more appropriate term... or timejumper... or jumpship?

Comparison to a submarine was, after all, the most apt one. They did dive into the unexplored depths of time-space and will emerge at completely different shores once they've sailed deep under the impassable continent.

Neck stil tingled and itched. As if it was vibrating with minute frequency, as if her entire skin was shivering. Once more she gave the hull a knock and then gently planted her palm against it. Felt odd. As soon as her skin touched the bulkhead, she heared voices. Percieved them, would be the more accurate expression, as they seemed to well from somewhere inside her. She tried to listen, but they were too melded together, too interlaced for her to discern.

Just as reality of existence that was flocking around the spacecraft time machine "Gerald Tonklin".