by David Larson
“Whatever,” Mike said impatiently “how do you do the gravity thing. That would really help out at home.”
“Yeah,” Bob said, “you’d think that wouldn’t you.”
“We picked a guy up a couple of hundred years ago, ummmm…” Bob snapped his fingers to help materialize the name in his head. “Fig, no, shootin’, no…” Bob’s eyes lit up “Isaac, that’s it. Isaac Newton.”
Mike crossed his arms to show distain for the little floor show.
“So we bring Isaac on board and this guy is like a real dyed in the wool genius. We were explaining thigs to him and he’s taking notes and asking all the right questions. And we were all thinking like wow, this guy is really going to shake things up down there. There were high fives all around, and the crew hung back to see where this all went.”
“Where did it go?” Mike asked.
“You tell me Einstein.”
“He discovered gravity.”
“Do you have even the smallest,” Bob held his thumb and forefinger close together, not quite touching as he looked at Mike through the gap, “infinitesimal idea of just how ignorant you sound when you say that?
“That,” he went on, “is like saying that Christopher Columbus discovered America. Like all those people that had been living on that continent since the dawn of time never noticed what they were standing on?”
“No dude,” he continued through Mike’s distant irritated stare “gravity was always there. The simple fact that Adults on your planet are perfectly comfortable running around saying stupid shit like hey an apple fell on this guy’s head and he discovered gravity is one of the most disappointing things you dudes have going. Isaac discovered the relationship of mass of objects and their attraction to each other. He wrote all of this down in a book called Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica. But you all just accept the moronic apple horse crap.
“He had the answers Mike,” Bob said, “he was just too enlightened for his fellow fellows.
“Of course, all of that information didn’t just go away,” Bob continued “you use it every day. But do you know what the majority of all that amazing knowledge goes into?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” Mike said.
“Weapon systems and ‘national security’,” Bob said.
Mike turned his head back toward the beautiful exterior and clamped his mind firmly shut about the plight of his compatriots back home.
“If we’re underground, how am I seeing all of this?” Mike asked as he stared out the side of the car. “Is it just a scenery loop?”
“Nope,” Bob answered, “it’s a direct feed from a kind of a camera above us. I could tell you how it works, but your head would explode, and I’d be covered in Mike parts. Let’s just say that we’re seeing the same thing we’d be seeing even if we were above ground right now.”
Mike continued to watch the beauty passing and simply nodded his reaction to Bob’s explanation.
Mike was certain of one thing. He never wanted to go home. There was nothing there for him anyway. Both of his parents were dead; he was an only child with no siblings. Sure, he had a few friends. But no one was really going to miss him anyway. He was getting the sinking feeling that the people that populated this planet were never going to let that happen. Hell, they couldn’t even let him walk around outside by himself. How were the ever going to let him live here permanently?
He thought that maybe if he were able to show them that he was capable of controlling his more basic animal instincts, that he was able to act more like them. If he could show them that he wasn’t in any way dangerous to their very existence…
Maybe they might let him stay. He had to work on that very, very hard. He had to be on his very best behavior at all times and show them that he was capable of being a very positive addition to their world.
The scenery stopped sliding past the car and the door made a light whooshing sound as it slid open. Mike was amazed that the view outside looked just like it had from the inside.
“Here we are space man,” Bob said winking at Mike. “After you.”
Mike stepped out of the capsule car and onto beautiful lush grass. In front of him was a fairly nondescript, two story building with a plain glass entry way. Just like the place he had started from, the flora engulfed the building and made it an amazingly beautiful addition to the rest of the landscape.
Several people were in front of the building. Some of them were chatting as they waited for their capsule to appear from under the ground, and others sitting on benches as they took in the view. Bob led Mike into the entry way, and toward an unremarkable set of wooden double doors.
“Don’t we have to go through a metal detector or something?” Mike asked.
“For what?” Bob said.
“To make sure we’re not taking weapons in to see your dictator, or facilitator, or whatever the hell she is.”
“We don’t have weapons on this planet Mike,” Bob said. “We have tools that you clowns would use for weapons…but we don’t have weapons.”
“So what, we just walk in her office and say hey?”
“Pretty much,” Bob said as he politely smiled and waved to a neatly dressed woman walking past.
“That was the head of our news department,” Bob said off-handedly.
“Wait, the government controls all your news?” Mike asked. “I guess you people really are communists.”
Bob stopped walking and turned to Mike. “You really need to rethink your idea of ‘government’ buddy,” he said. “We don’t necessarily ‘govern’ here. We deal more on the logistical end of things. This is a big planet here and somethings need to be coordinated. I’ll let Serilda explain most of that, but remember we are talking about the planet here. It might be easy for you to assume we’re talking about this ‘country’ or this ‘province’ but this is the way the whole shittin’ shootin’ match works.”
“Good point,” Mike said, “you’re telling me that this simple two-story building contains the government, or ‘controlling authority’ or whatever for the entire planet?”
“Like I said,” Bob answered, “that, in a very tiny uniformed nutshell is about it. But seriously partner you need to get your head out of the ‘government,’ ‘rule,’ ‘control,’ and ‘law’ areas. We really don’t have …or want I might add, anything the even comes close to translating to that here.”
“I’m getting that,” Mike said, “while at the same time I’m not getting that at all.”
“So do we have to make an appointment,” Mike said, “or has that already been done?”
“Appointment for what?” Bob asked.
“To see the queen, or prime minister, or president, or whatever title she has that is going to be pretty much meaningless to me.”
“Look,” Bob said making sure he was looking directly into Mike’s eyes, “we don’t have titles here, and we don’t have ornate monuments to our countries virility from which we control the population. Like I said, I’ll let Serilda explain all of that to you. As for an appointment, Serilda pretty much has an open-door policy. We simply walk into her office and say hello.”
“And she’s the one in charge of ALL this.” Mike said blankly.
“This is going to take some time isn’t it,” Bob said. Then he added in a high screechy voice, as he rubbed his hands together, “These things need to be handled delicately.” Then he turned and made a sweeping motion at the doors, “now fly, FLY!”
“You’re a dick,” Mike said.
Six:
Bob and Mike walked through the open door, and into a moderate-sized office. On one wall was a floor to ceiling bookshelf that surprisingly was only about half full of books. The rest of it contained various forms of plant life growing in beautifully crafted clay pots. Opposite to that wall was a floor to ceiling window with, what on Earth would be an amazing view, but here just more of the same thing. Mike noted with fleeting sadness that he was already viewing the sight of a large, bright red
tree interspersed with yellow flowers, that were in turn being visited by bright flamboyantly-feathered hummingbirds the size of beagles as an everyday occurrence.
At the desk sat a woman, possibly in her late thirties or early forties. Her red hair was pulled back into an all business ponytail that curled back from behind her head and rested gently over her right shoulder. She was wearing what appeared to be a raw silk shirt, although Mike was pretty sure it was something entirely different. She absently tapped the end of a pen on a sheet of paper she was examining. The Stones ‘Gimmie Shelter’ was softly playing in the background.
“Hey Serilda,” Bob said as he stepped into the office,
She stopped the tapping and looked up from the paper, “Hey Bob,” she said.
“Awesome tunes,” Bob said pointing to the ceiling.
“Thanks,” Serilda said, “I put it up to make our guest feel more at home.”
She stood up from behind the desk and Mike could see she was wearing what looked like black Viet Cong pajama pants.
She smiled at Mike. “Welcome Mike,” she said, “why don’t we move into the conference room, so we can be more comfortable.”
Serilda motioned both men into an adjoining room. As she walked out from behind the desk Mike noticed that she was wearing sandals. He also noted that he hadn’t seen one single piece of jewelry or a watch on anyone since he had been ‘abducted’.
“I guess it’s all about comfort here,” he thought absently.
The Stones melted into ‘Baba O’Riley’ by The Who.
Serilda passed her hand toward a pair of comfortable looking chairs inviting them to sit, and she sat in an identical one across from them.
“How are you finding your stay here so far Mike?” she asked. “Comfortable I hope.”
“Very much so,” Mike said smiling. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you,” he added.
Serilda smiled broadly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
“I had an entire presentation ready to give you when I first learned that you were on your way here,” She said pleasantly, “but I think it would be better to just start right off answering whatever questions you might have.”
“Hey,” Mike said, “thanks. Let’s start off with your title. What is it that you actually are…or for that matter…do.”
The music melted into CCR and ‘Suzie-Q.’
Serilda looked at the ceiling. “Would you mind terribly if we were to cancel the music? I find it a little distracting,” she said.
“Sure,” Mike said.
Fogerty fell silent.
“I, for the lack of a better word, am a facilitator,” She said.
“Yeah,” Mike said “I got that from Bob over here. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that when I asked him who was in charge, he tells me it’s the planet’s ‘facilitator’.”
“The explanation of that is pretty complex Mike,” Serilda said. “On your planet there is not one segment of society that doesn’t have some type of law and accompanying leader. No matter if it’s a block captain, or tribal elder or national president, king, or despot. We have an elder group here, but their entire reason for being is to provide guidance to our research teams operating the region you identify as Earth.”
“Teams?” Mike said. There’s more than one?
“Well, yes,” she said, “We have quite a mess that seems to just be getting messier by the day out there.”
“At any rate,” Serilda went on, “Here, for all practical purposes, we have no laws. Hence we have no real need for a dedicated group to enforce/enact these laws.”
“No laws at all?” Mike asked wide eyed.
“No,” Serilda said, “but I’ll get more into that in a minute.”
“You see, when you have a species that realizes its own intellect, but has no natural intellectual boundaries you have a real mess on your hands. Then add a serious dose of greed, jealousy, and unfortunately rage, and that problem is almost uncontrollable.
“Let’s say you were locked up in an institution that houses people that slam their heads into things for no apparent reason, knocking themselves unconscious every day at noon. How do you think you would perceive the one person in that group that simply sits in reverent silence as the midday head smashing begins and hums to themselves?”
Serilda cocked her head in an obvious gesture beckoning Mike to answer.
“I get your point,” he finally said “But not everyone on Earth is affected the same way. We’re not all head smashers. In fact, we do hospitalize people that have serious afflictions.”
“Oh, I know that,” Serilda said “and if I were to ever tell you who people with Down’s Syndrome really were, it would blow your mind.”
“Wait…” Mike said raising both eyebrows.
“Not now,” Serilda continued. “We absolutely don’t have time for that and it would completely bog down your progress here. Let’s just say that sometimes the crazies single out the sane.
“Back to where we were. All people on Earth are born with an inherent knowledge of what is right or wrong, they simply choose to ignore it in most instances for personal gain, or security. Nearly every religious sect on your planet has a caveat written into their holy books as a sort of divine disclaimer conveniently explaining how this is simply free will that the one true creator has instilled in his creation in beautiful all-knowing insight.
“If you think about it, any ‘creator’ that would actually create a being, give them the ability to do things that go directly against that creator’s will, then punish them for the rest of eternity for acting like they created them to act in the first place is more than just a little insane. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course I would,” Mike said. He was in the midst of a great internal struggle as he listened to the facilitator. He knew she was right, but he wanted to scream out that people controlled their basic animal instincts every single day.
“Have you ever wanted to kill someone Mike?” Serilda asked.
“That’s a pretty tough question,” Mike answered.
“The fact that it is, is pretty telling,” She said.
“No,” Mike said searching for words to explain himself. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re talking about actual murder here. Of course I’ve said the words ‘I could kill you’, everyone has…”
“Every Earth person has,” she corrected him.
“Ok, fair enough,” Mike said “but I don’t think I ever really considered taking another life.”
“Haven’t you?”
“No,” He said slowly. Then he remembered the day as a young man he watched his neighbor shoot his dog for crapping on the guy’s lawn. He could have easily grabbed that gun and turned it on the asshole that shot Butch for dropping dog turds on the wrong side of an imaginary line. His father had called the police, and the jerk was taken away, but murder was certainly on Mike’s mind at that instant.
“Ok,” He said. “I guess there have been fleeting moments when killing seemed the appropriate things to do.”
“Of course there were,” Serilda said as she leaned back into her chair and crossed her legs.
“In your own country, during your life time, how did you feel on September 11th of 2001? Didn’t you crave to be able to personally murder every single person that had any part in that horrible, unspeakable event?”
Mike just nodded.
“Throughout the history of humanity on your planet unspeakable acts have been answered by equally unspeakable retribution. The act exacted on one group or subset justifies the acts that are then exacted on the other group. ALL of these actions are connected, justified, and continued in horrible destruction, incredible loss, and unending misery. All of this brought on by yourselves and seemingly unstoppable.”
Mike had nothing to add.
“Let’s look at the more personal aspect of this,” Serilda went on. “Let’s say someone wronged you in a way that was heinous enough for you to consider actually killing them, or at least
inflicting great personal harm. If you think back on that, what was the one thing that kept you from carrying out such an act, no matter how bad you wanted to do it?”
“I didn’t want to go to prison,” Mike answered matter-of-factly.
“Exactly my point Mike. You didn’t want to be punished. Even though your own holy book preaches ‘an eye for an eye’ and sets every individual free, wrapped in a cloak of God given free will…you didn’t want to get in trouble.
“From the time that you are children to the time that you die, people are answering to some higher authority that keeps them in comfortable check. There have been hundreds of studies on Earth gauging the effect of not having anyone to answer to. And the findings were that people absolutely must have a controlling authority or they become psychotic.”
“That seems pretty sad,” Mike said.
“You have to admit,” she went on “that some of your very first questions along your present journey have been ‘who’s in charge’.”
“Right again,” Mike said.
“I’m not simply trying to sit here and chastise you like a child, Mike. You absolutely must understand the workings of the human mind, and the mental gymnastics that you all go through to justify your affliction before you can ever even come close to understanding the way things work here.”
“I get all of that,” Mike said “and I want to learn, I really do. It’s just a lot to get past.”
“We understand that,” Serilda went on, “and believe me when I tell you that everything you just said was hashed over and rehashed before the decision was reached to let you come here. You showed an amazing aptitude for opening your mind when you were aboard the ship. And that, my friend, is the only reason you’re here right now.”
“And believe me,” Mike said, “you can never know how much I appreciate the opportunity.’
Serilda smiled and nodded.
“All of the above has been a path to lead to the dramatic differences between how you as a species perceive life, and how it’s perceived here.
“Let me start off with government. On Earth you have laws to control the masses. It’s a simple fact that religion is one source of complete control over human failings. Your Ten Commandments, or five pillars of Islam, or the Hindu purusharthas all are meant to control an otherwise uncontrollable population. People read these things and say, ‘wow, God/Muhamad/Brahma is brilliant. That – insert name of divine ruler here – really understood humans to give us those laws’. And everyone smiles, does a few hail Marys, or prayers to the east or whatever and goes about their lives. These laws keep piling up because people keep finding ‘legal loopholes’ to get past the divine word. I’m sure that you know of some yourself. In one part of your very country there is a sect of Jews that have a divine rule that says they are not allowed to leave their house on the sabbath. In modern times this became untenable, so they simply put a string around the entire town. Then they convince themselves that this in fact is their ‘home’, lie themselves into believing that this is ok with their divine leader, and go on about their lives.”