The Hallucigenia Project

by Darren Kasenkow

  The spotlights were extinguished and Klementina disappeared in the sudden darkness that spilled across the stage. After a minute or so of uncomfortable silence a strange blue glow began to appear like a swirling morning mist that crept up from the floor, illuminating the vague outline of her body and beginning to fill the room.

  An audible gasp broke free somewhere behind John, and as he peered back over his shoulder his eyes were suddenly transfixed with awe. For a second he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Floating above the tables with a slow grace and brilliant blue features that lit up the ceiling, a large whale gently explored the mist. Its tail gently lifted up and down and belly turned orange above the flickering candles that now appeared as strange moving coral. He was more than impressed with the life like quality of the hologram, and from the corner of his eye he could see Joey smiling like a kid looking at exploding fireworks for the first time.

  It continued its elegant journey across the room until coming to rest above Klementina with large curious eyes that looked back at them all. The haunting notes of whale calls emerged from the shadows to compliment the ambience. John looked into the creature’s eyes and had to remind himself that he was still seated in the middle of a casino. As a general rule he considered his ability to read a situation as better than average but, considering what was taking place, he was no longer so confident. The night was quickly proving to be as unpredictable as it was strange, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what he should expect next. All he could do was sit amongst the glow of the light show and wait for the next injection of surrealism as Klementina closed her eyes for a moment and moved her head to the rhythm of the whale cries.

  “In order for any type of love to be true and pure, to come into existence and move through time, it requires one essential element. I’m talking about communication. Dig down deep enough to the tangled root system of love in all its forms and you’ll find communication fuelling the machine. If we cannot communicate with another life form we have no opportunity to love. Whatever the medium, we strive to share our experience and validate the fact that we have slipped into the energy field of the universe ready to explore. The very act of communicating is the announcement of life itself. Now, it’s easy to appreciate the act of sending and receiving on a one to one basis, but what about the human race as a whole? What kind of message are we sending to the stars? Only twelve human beings, remember, have stepped on a terrestrial surface other than our home planet. Communication wise, beyond orbit the silence is almost deafening. As a race we have so far chosen to ignore love as a representation of our global consciousness, yet we have no problem in sending smoke signals from the fires of war.”

  The sound of the whale song began to fade and a strange coldness seemed to replace the absence. The beast continued to float however, with eyes still looking out across the tables as the blue mist swirled and ebbed as though the room were drifting through clouds.

  “You probably can’t see it yet,” Klementina said with conviction, “but we’ve reached the edge of a very long and dangerous cliff. In fact, it’s a little trickier than that, because now that we’re standing on the edge the only two options available are both difficult. Turn back and you’ll be walking straight into a storm so powerful it might split the Earth in two, blind to the truth and unprepared for reckoning. Step forward to jump and the world you know will be turned upside down. You will have crossed a threshold of no return and will have no choice but to come face to face with a new reality.” With a blinding flash every light in the room came back to life. The whale and blue mist dissolved into the air and the candles seemed smaller somehow than they had in the dark. “Now before we take the next step and jump off I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

  For the first time since she had taken the stage there was the sound of fractured conversation across the tables. Finally visible in the stark white of light the faces of the guests presented a spectrum ranging between confusion, sparked interest and agreement. If John had to guess he figured most of the people in the room were in the same age range as him, though in far corner he could see an elderly couple that appeared uncomfortable with the proceedings so far, judging by the way they both looked at their watches and back over their shoulders to the elevators. It was no surprise then that as he watched their hurried whispers they stood and hastily made their exit. As for the other guests, most were becoming more and more animated with the volume of chatter rising as he scanned across the faces.

  Several tables away a young man raised his hand. The action issued a hush to the scattered conversations and all eyes turned to him.

  “I think you make some excellent points,” he began with a slightly wavering voice, “and no doubt we’ve got some serious problems to deal with, but I have to wonder if people in general are as blood thirsty as you seem to suggest? The majority of wars are spearheaded by governments and it’s usually not what the people themselves want. I mean sure, you need soldiers, but a lot of the time it’s because it’s the only job they can get to feed their family. I guess what I’m trying to say is maybe the problem of war isn’t a human one but more a political one, which means it can be changed.”

  Murmurs of agreement could be heard as Klementina smiled and patiently waited for it to die down. It almost looked to John as though she had expected the question, and probably had. She took a sip from her water bottle and used a napkin to dab her lips.

  “There are two points that need to be addressed in answer to your question, which I’ll do as quickly as I can. The first concerns the idea of government. We have created this illusion, this false sense of perception, that the government is some sort of separate entity. The sad reality is that the political system is created by the people, regardless of the ideology. The government is made up of human beings just like you and me, only with certain traits that have the ability to become magnified. The problem we have with governments around the world isn’t a political one, it’s a people one, a human problem. That’s the bottom line, and it’s why the cycle continues. Every generation begins with a movement determined to bring in change, to bring a sense of what is right into the equation, and yet once the next generation of strong minds begin to taste the power that comes with responsibility the ideals quickly began to fade away. They fade away because the allure of war and control is far too enticing for an animal such as us. The government, I’m afraid, is us.”

  The slow rumbling murmurs returned for a moment but this time the agreement wasn’t so obvious. John watched Klementina take another sip, and again was sure she somehow expected the response before it had even begun.

  “Which leads me to the second point,” she continued. “We don’t like the idea of having to admit that the governments around the world aren’t separate to us, that they are us. I think it’s safe to say it’s easier to throw a tag that says evil on the neck of the system that we ourselves created and wipe our hands of any connection to the blood, then point with nice clean fingers and say there, there’s the monsters. But a look behind the curtain shows us that things are so very different.” She lifted her hand and displayed three fingers to her audience. “Three days,” she said called out. “Or for those who want to make things sound a little better, seventy two hours. Give or take, that’s about how long it takes for bad things to start happening. Sometimes it’s a lot quicker, but never usually any slower.”

  She tapped at a switch beside the microphone and the room was instantly engulfed in darkness once again, broken only by the orange glow of the candles that were edging closer and closer to wick death. John used the moment to gulp another mouthful of wine and wait for the next holographic surprise but this time it didn’t come, as Klementina remained in the shadows and lowered her voice to ensure captivation.

  “I want you to imagine stepping through the darkness of this room and stumbling down to the city streets, only to find the same darkness waiting for you. No flashing neon signs, no street or traffic lights, no trains, no broadcasts
of any kind. The traffic will be in chaos so you make the decision to walk the streets back to your hotel or apartment. Do you feel safe? When the sun finally breaks and the power is still absent, the city is forced to grind to a halt. It’s hot, and you look in the fridge that isn’t working and realize there’s nothing to eat. You need to go back onto the streets, where hundreds of thousands of people are finding themselves in the same position. I’ll ask again, do you feel safe?”

  The question cut through the air and brought a sinister element to the shadows. The beautiful memory of the floating whale drifted away as she began to speak with a growing urgency.

  “For the first twenty four hours, perhaps. But it won’t take long for things to break down in the worst possible way. Once the idea of law and order crumbles against the tide of panic and emotion, violence and chaos will begin to grow. I guarantee that you will no longer be safe. The only reason the carnage may take up to seventy two hours to explode is the want and belief that things will be restored at any time. But what about if things aren’t able to be restored, and the population knows it? At a base level, there is violence in our blood. Not all of us of course, but in a city strangled with chaos those not willing to participate in violence will have a hard time surviving. Tender hooks hold together the façade of structure and harmony, and when they snap so too do the restraints that keep quiet the urges in us all.”

  Slowly the light in the room began to return and John quietly admitted that she might just have a point. He knew that the line between law, order and chaos was a whole lot thinner than most people probably realized, that it was only basic cause and effect that kept most people in line. More often than not they chose not to do what they wanted to do only because the cost was too great, whether the currency was cash or time locked up in a cage. Once the cost was removed, well, the things people wanted to do weren’t always so good.

  Another rising arm vied for attention, this time a woman with clothes that would have suited a gym workout rather than a night at a casino. She was alone at her table at the back of the room and though she appeared a little nervous her voice managed to carry strong.

  “I get that us human beings sometimes find it hard to agree on stuff, just about any history book will tell you that. And you’re right, when push comes to shove most of us probably don’t care too much about anyone that isn’t close to us. But look at the technology we’ve developed, the diseases we’ve beaten. Surely that must mean we’re doing something right? I mean, from medicines that save lives to launches into space, that doesn’t come about without working together.” The woman frowned for a moment, more than aware of the quiet that accompanied her pause. “I guess my question is,” she began again nervously, “isn’t there a chance that as technology becomes smarter, we become smarter? Won’t we reach a point where changing things for the better becomes the obvious choice? Surely the good that we can do means we should still hold out hope?”

  Klementina slowly nodded as the guests at the tables turned back to the stage, eager to hear what she had to say. Joey, meanwhile, leaned forward and whispered across the table to John.

  “The only hope any of us have got went out the window a long time ago if you ask me.”

  “Sure seems that way sometimes,” John whispered back.

  “If you’re asking if technology brings with it hope the short answer is yes,” Klementina responded to the woman, quickly ending the table chat. “Not because of what we can create, but because what is created will force us to take a long hard look at who we are and why we’re here. But let’s look at what technology means for us today, right here and now in the twenty first century. It’s easy to think that, when compared to times long gone, we are enjoying so many new and wondrous things. Surely if we could transport someone from, let’s say the sixteenth century, they would have to be amazed at all they find. On the surface of things that might be true, but once again, if we pull the curtain back a little the glitter begins to wash off and it soon becomes apparent that it is the method of delivery that has seen change.” For the first time since taking the stage, she stepped from behind the lectern with arms slightly raised at her sides. “Let’s start with music. As far back as we can see music has been with us. From the beating of drums to exotic symphonies, we have enjoyed the endless compositions that can arise from simple notes. Over time we’ve developed ever increasing technology to capture songs so that they can be experienced at any time, from gramophones to radio, compact discs to devices you all have on you right now capable of carrying literally thousands of symphonies. The song, so to speak, remains the same. The method of delivery has changed, but the result is still the enjoyment of sound. The music was always there.”

  For a brief second her eyes found John, accompanied with a small knowing smile that said she hadn’t forgotten who he was, before lifting her arms up higher, palms out as though offering something to the room.

  “We can apply the same lens to our transport needs. It was animals that carried us for so very long, but over time we developed the engine. There’s no denying it changed the way we travel, but the very act of travel has always been with us. Now we can cover long distances so much quicker, though for most of us it simply means being able to get to work on time. It’s also, by the way, a very efficient method of culling a growing population, but we won’t go there.”

  She smiled and lifted her phone for all to see, rotating it as though it were a strange and delicate artefact.

  “So what about the technology that the majority of us consider essential, the mobile phone? It’s a marvellous invention to be sure, but what is its fundamental purpose? To talk, to share information. It’s a method of delivery for a behaviour that’s been with us since the dawn of our time. And when it comes to information, what a day to be alive! Just about anything our hearts might desire to know is literally seconds away for so many of us. All the knowledge that has been collected by those who have walked and questioned before us and yet a quick analysis brings strange things to light. The internet has become a stage to create distorted images of ourselves while a continuous stream of fucking and killing dominates the soul of the machine. Don’t believe me? Every one of us here tonight is carrying a phone, and in seconds you can be learning about heart health or browsing pornographic libraries. So is technology making us smarter or better? Judging by the state of the world, consistent themes keep emerging. We’re connected like never before and yet we still can’t get along. As for the growth of technology building a better future, the answer rests upon research and time and, unfortunately, that window is closing faster than you can imagine.”

  Joey’s arm lifted firmly into the air, catching Klementina’s attention and lifting John’s eyebrows. He cleared his throat and shifted forward in his chair.

  “I think you’ve hit a few nails on the head. You ask me we probably are becoming a race of spanking monkeys that love weapons and anything that glitters. What I want to know is, what exactly are we doing here? What is this Hallucigenia Project?”

  Excitement charged whispers broke out from the tables. Finally, John thought, someone willing to ask the right question. The whispers quickly faded and Joey looked up to the stage with expectation. Klementina indulged in a deep breath and shifted long hair across her shoulders.

  “You’re here because the Hallucigenia Project is ready to extend its family one last time. The days that lay before us are numbered, but I can’t really tell you why until we’ve learned a little more about you. As far as tonight’s concerned, what’s more important is that you ask yourself what sort of purpose your life, the only one you’ll ever have, will carry from this moment forward. Work, pay taxes to a government you hate, make a baby or two and dedicate thirty plus years to pay off a house or apartment to protect you from the rain, all the while wondering when the next war will break out? There’s no judging those desires, but if that’s the kind of purpose you’re searching for then sitting here listening to me is the wrong place to be. When it comes to our fami
ly we’ve chosen to seek the kind of person that is ready to look behind the curtain, ready to leave their current life behind to embark on a dangerous journey that is vital for the way human beings reach out into space and time. We have so much to show you and so little time to do it in. The Hallucigenia Project is the only hope we’ve got of bringing a true sense of purpose and change to a world that is about to be turned upside down.”

  An overly tall man with an expression that was made for poker and a nose that looked like it’d been broken every year began to make his way through tables, stopping by each one to place a single sheet of paper and silver pen for each guest. John’s table was the last to receive the items, and he wasted no time in reaching for the paper to scan through the text. It seemed to be a legal document, and at the top of the page was a small emblem that appeared to be a fish of some kind. At least that’s what he guessed it was. Either way he’d never seen anything like it.

  On the stage Klementina returned to the microphone with a clinical edge sharpening her voice. Guests at the tables alternated their attention between the document they’d just received and the softly lit stage.

  “Under normal circumstances,” she explained, “there’s more than one session before presenting you with this contract, but unfortunately things are far from normal and that means we have no choice but to accelerate things. What you have before you is a disclosure agreement, nothing more and nothing less. If you choose to sign it, you agree that anything that takes place from this moment forward is not open for discussion with anyone outside of the project. It’s for your protection just as much as ours, and in the spirit of transparency you should also know that we have a team of some of the best lawyers in the city to make sure those pieces of paper carry weight. The Hallucigenia Project isn’t some sort of experiment or game. If you pick up that pen and sign you’ll have the right to begin your journey but I have to ask you to make your choice with a clear mind.”