Authors: Doug Vossen
“I think I get it,” said Callie. “But I guess what’s weird for me is that you’re so Zen and he’s a drunk who somehow operates weapons while drinking and kills people. What the hell?”
“I don’t know, Callie. I wish I knew. The more I learn about how my brain works, the less I feel comfortable trying to figure out how other peoples’ brains work. Full disclosure – I’m not qualified to make any sort of professional judgment.”
“OK, and?”
“I think a lot of people blame the war, or abuse, or whatever, for their hang-ups regardless of the circumstance, because it’s convenient and easy. It’s like, ‘HEY, I’M AN ASSHOLE, BUT IT’S OK! I HAVE A SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE EXCUSE!’ People don’t like looking within. Trent is still externalizing blame and rationalizing his drinking, thinking that his particular crazy isn’t his fault.”
“Does he know that?” asked Callie.
“I tried to bring it up once, but he wasn’t having it.”
“What happened?”
“He was too drunk and started lashing out.”
“You think maybe you should try again after this blows over?”
I can’t believe I’m cock-blocking myself.
“No, I think you should. I don’t have that kind of relationship with him.”
“And a stripper from Ohio does?”
Karl came back on the radio. “Jack, this is Karl, over.”
Thanks, Karl.
“What’s up,” Jack said.
“We found them. You’re gonna love this shit!”
Fuck. What now?
“Remember how the dude’s son is mentally ill?” Karl asked.
“Yeah, man.”
“He’s got Tourette’s!” Karl sounded giddy.
I’m so tired.
“OK, so you found them? Let’s get the fuck out of here!”
“Of course we did! You didn’t think we would?”
“Why is Tourette’s awesome?” Jack asked. “Is he going to blurt out dumb shit while we’re trying to be quiet?”
“Jackie, he called me nigger like three times already! Hughes is dying!”
“Great. I love it,” Jack said sarcastically. “Get them down here ASAP.”
“You got it!”
“Green Dragon 1-3, keep us apprised of the situation in the park, over,” said Jack.
“You got it, sir,” said Chief Rudich. “Just so you know, it’s getting weirder by the second. I keep seeing flashes of light when the thing over the trade center pulsates.”
“Yeah, we’ve been seeing those flashes all night. Just let us know what route is best,” Jack said.
“Sir, I don’t think I’m being clear. The flashes are coming from the ground now, in the mosh-pit crowd. I can’t tell what it’s doing, but it’s creeping me out, man.”
Fuck, why is everything I get involved in a tail spin of horseshit?
RONAK
“This is fascinating! I cannot believe there is a real extraterrestrial here! Cock-fuck-tits-in-my-ass! I’m so s-s-s-sorry! Please, I have a c-c-c-condition that makes me – shit-on-my-fucking-chest! – m-m-makes me say awful things when I am stressed.” Rag Kapur was a heavyset man in his early twenties with a virtuoso knack for mathematics. Unfortunately, he was also completely incapable in most social situations.
“Raghu, do not apologize for your mental illness,” said Aditi Kapur, Rag’s mother. “You have no control over it. We’ve spoken about this. You inform people and then allow them to accept you, should they so choose. It is the only way to gain equal footing in terms of respect.”
“M-m-m-mom! I don’t care if you’re a psychiatrist! You don’t know what you’re talking about! Put-bananas-in-my-delicious-cum-hungry-ass! In the real world, when you say these things you need to apologize! How are you a psychiatrist if you can’t even understand what your own son has to deal with?”
How unfortunate that terrans have not managed to eradicate mental illnesses. Everything I’ve studied shows that there is a stigma associated with treating mental health issues as one would treat physical ailments. This illness could have been solved before this man was even birthed into existence.
“Mr. Kapur, please do not worry,” said Ronak. “I am completely aware of the impact of your condition, and I completely respect you regardless. At a later juncture we can discuss options to resolve your mental health issues, but first we must focus on the task at hand.”
“T-t-t-t-that sounds a-a-a-awesome, Legate Ronak. Thank you so much for your understanding.” Rag was clearly intelligent, but also extremely embarrassed by his condition.
“I hate to interrupt this man-love fest, but can we please start the part where we get the fuck out of here?” Trent was nervous, as if he knew there was much more to the story that no one else understood.
“I like Hughes’s idea,” said Karl. “Dr. Kapur, are you ready to go?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” It was clear that Mahesh Kapur was not enamored with the idea of going anywhere with anyone in uniform. He was dressed like a hippie and seemed to have an odd sense of the esoteric for someone so entrenched in the scientific method.
Karl had no patience for such people. “OK, you woo-pedaling hippie, we can do this one of two ways.”
“I invite you to use any methods you think might work in forcing me to do anything,” said Dr. Kapur. “You will not succeed. Everything you do and say is ensuring I would rather kill myself and my family than do anything with you or for you. Get out.”
“Tough words, doctor. Why are you being so cunty?” Karl asked.
“Leave us. You are not welcome here. We may not be safe here, but I know for a fact we are safer here than anywhere with you.”
“Fair enough.” Karl grabbed the frail man, threw him against the wall, and mashed his face into a board of sheet rock. He then twisted Kapur’s arm behind his back and slapped on a set of flex cuffs. The Kapur family was horrified.
This one is a hammer. Everything is a nail to him.
Trent walked up to Karl and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Karl, no. Please. Can you just let me?”
“Goddamn it Hughes, we do not have time to play fuck-fuck games with some arrogant fucking hippie! Let’s bag his ass and get moving!” Bagging meant literally putting a canvas sandbag over his head. It was easier than a blindfold.
“First of all, no, asshole. Second, why the FUCK would we bag someone in their hometown when they’re clearly going to recognize where they are? Furthermore, you fucking meathead twat, why would we EVER treat these people like this? They aren’t the enemy, man. I know it’s been a few years, but what the hell happened to make you like this?”
“Fuck you, Hughes,” said Karl. “You’re such a fucking pussy. You always have been. No wonder all your old soldiers called you a hajji-hugger.”
“This isn’t a goddamn hajji, dude! We’re all just people! Don’t lose yourself. You’re fucking close, man. Once you do, I don’t think you ever get it back.”
“You can’t treat people like this!” said Raghu. “Get away from my dad! This is not the w-w-w-way, NIGGER! N-n-n-ot the way you are allowed to treat people!”
“Good god, everyone shut the fuck up!” Trent took control. “Karl, stop being a fucking asshole! These are good people who are probably terrified not only of us but of the fact there’s a goddamn… What the hell are you again?” Trent gestured to Ronak.
This one tries.
“I am Ætherean,” said Ronak.
“Karl, please fucking stop. Just pull security outside. Talk to those Puerto Rican guys. Ask the dude I worked with about the time one of the people from my client’s moving company got drunk and took a giant runny shit against a wall on move-in weekend - at Bill Clinton’s new office in the financial district.” Trent put his arm on Karl’s shoulder. “Please, man. I got this.”
“While I am fascinated by the prospect of interacting with this being, I am not going anywhere with you, either,” said Kapur.
I would love to see how Trent turns him. On my home world this man would automatically know what I know, and that I did not have ulterior motives. My information and rationale would simply become his, and his mine. Our perspectives would coalesce into an optimized, mutually-beneficial decision within moments.
Kapur’s wife and daughter remained silent, diligently working on what appeared to be data analysis by candle light. They were almost carbon copies in terms of appearance and intelligence, separated by thirty-five years.
The laboratory was nothing more than several workstations covered in used candles, flashlights, and papers. For such a brilliant man, there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to what he was trying to achieve.
“I am Trent Hughes. I am not a soldier. I don’t have a horse in this race. I just want to help fix this situation so I can keep looking for my wife. Doctor, that brute over there is my friend; I’ve known him for many years. He is good for some things. Being nice to people in the middle of a mission isn’t one of them. He gets caught up in the moment and looks at everything as a variable he can adjust to solve his problem. He does not much consider the consequences. I am sorry for this. I will keep him under control.”
“I appreciate this, but I cringe to think what the military would want from me,” said Kapur. “I am an academic, not a fighter. I analyze and interpret the natural order of things that will one day benefit society.”
“Dr. Kapur, I appreciate that whole-heartedly,” said Trent.
“S-s-said the man covered in blood holding a rifle,” blurted Rag.
“Raghu - can I call you Raghu?” Trent asked.
“S-s-sure. My friends call me R-R-Rag though.”
“This man is not your friend, my son!” Aditi Kapur was opinionated and fiercely protective of her son.
“Latex-fetish-shit-porn-subreddits! M-m-m-mom! I’m not t-t-two years old! S-s-stop it!”
“Ma’am, I’m not the enemy here,” Trent said. “We did so much to come here. I’m so tired.” Trent got choked up thinking about the mental trips he’d taken over the last thirty-six hours. Most of all, he thought of Emma. “If you knew the risks we’ve taken to come for you guys, you would never deny us the opportunity to bring you to safety.”
“There is no safety,” Aditi said.
“Ma’am, I promise I will keep that man away from you. He’s extremely rough around the edges, but he means well. Can you please just hear us out? I’m not the enemy here, and neither is Legate Ronak.”
“How can you be sure?” Mahesh Kapur wiped flecks of gypsum from his face after tasting the wall board.
“Because if he wanted us dead, or even wanted to force you to act in a particular way, there is nothing we could do. All I ask is that you hear us out. Cooperation between us is the only way we can begin to understand what’s going on. It seems like an insurmountable task, but I’m truly confident that if we break this problem into bite-sized chunks, take it one day at a time, we can figure it out.”
The Kapur family remained silent. It was hard to deny Trent’s logic. Two types of people thought in such a way, engineers and military officers. Trent was both.
He’s turning them.
Devi broke the silence. “You’re a very charismatic speaker. It almost made me forget that there is blood all over your sweatshirt and what appears to be human flesh stuck to your bayonet. Who uses bayonets? Is this the Civil War? How can you expect us to leave a place where we can work in relative safety?”
“I know I look like a butcher right now,” said Trent. “This is not something I expected when I woke up two mornings ago. I don’t leave the house wanting things like this to happen. In fact, I never want to fight ever again, but it’s apparent that I have no choice. The reason I look like this now is because I know in my heart the only way for us to move forward is to cooperate. It starts with leaving this place, getting back to the Army’s firebase, and formulating a hypothesis. This hypothesis is heavily engrained in both your research and in what Ron’s people have known for a long time.”
“What could you possibly offer our family that would make us think going out THERE would ultimately be better than remaining here until this blows over?” Mahesh asked.
“I can offer you one thing no one else can. Something you want more than anything.”
The Kapur family scoffed at such a bold assertion. “And what would that be?” Mahesh asked.
“You’re primarily a theoretical physicist, right?”
“I utilize experimental and observational data when it is available and base new potential principles on the theories I derive mathematically,” said Mahesh.
“I can provide you with validation of those theories, advance your knowledge by centuries, and provide the opportunity to fully satisfy any curious scientific itch you could ever have,” said Trent. “You can take your work to levels above your wildest dreams. What you have discovered already is the just the tip of the iceberg.”
The family rolled their eyes. “And how will the man with biomatter on the edge of a knife connected to a gun be able to do such a thing?” Mahesh asked.
“Not me,” said Trent. “Legate Ronak, care to step in?”
I am impressed with this man’s charisma. He’s fixed a good deal of what his overly aggressive friend ruined. He did so with minimal understanding of anything that was discussed prior to his arrival. He is, as his people say, a very good bull-shitter.
“Doctors, Devi, Raghu - if I may?” said Ronak.
It looked as if Mahesh’s wife was beginning to relent. “Please, go ahead,” said Aditi.
Everyone seemed a little calmer. Trent politely excused himself and stood outside with Karl and the three survivors.
“As you already postulated years ago,” explained Ronak, “the correct, paradox-free interpretation of quantum physics is only capable of producing material waves of possibility for consciousness to choose from. Consciousness has the ultimate power, called downward causation.”
“You have regurgitated my own research to me,” Mahesh snapped.
Academic types have frail egos. As brilliant as they are, they seem to seek validation as both intelligent minds and individually creative people capable of looking at things from unique perspectives. Whether this is actually true, such arrogance is a variable to consider in my interaction with them. Yet I must not pander to them. If he feels patronized, this conversation will end quickly. What a fascinating exercise! Everything is dependent on my own abilities. THIS is why I am a Legate. I would never have this opportunity back home working for the galactic trade consortium, providing our AIs with new data to produce more efficient trade algorithms.
Legate Ronak was aware that he had drifted off in thought. “We have come here utilizing this fundamental assumption that drives the majority of our technology. Your baseline assumption of consciousness being the underlying field in which we all exist, Dr. Kapur, is the basis for everything. You are on the right track toward vaulting your species into the next technological age. Given the current circumstances, I find it prudent to assist you in your efforts so we can identify why this phenomenon, for lack of a better term, has chosen to affect this region of the galaxy.”
“Are you telling me we are the only ones in the galaxy to experience this mess?”
“That is unknown, but Earth is the only inhabited planet we have found in the charted galaxy that is experiencing this,” Ronak explained.