by G. L. Argain
“Actually, it’s a measurement of distance. A year is equal to twelve months, but a light-year is used to describe the distance that light can travel in one year.”
“Why use light as a basis?”
“…Because as far as us humans know, light is the fastest thing in the universe.”
“We believe trechens are the fastest particles so far, and they’re several times faster than light. Although, none of our interstellar vehicles can go faster than light.” Andrew had no idea what trechens were—he guessed that maybe they were an alien term for some weird subatomic particles.
“That’s enough, Lee,” said Juvir, “I know you wish to ask plenty of questions and tell him everything about ourselves, but have you considered how much information a being such as Andrew can take in so quickly?”
Andrew was slightly amused to hear that this guy had a familiar-sounding name such as Lee. Even so, Andrew’s paranoia boiled up again as he said, “Why? Are you afraid he might slip some secret out? That you know something that you don’t want me to know?”
Lee’s countenance had then added a hint of guilt and denial as though he would know some secrets, but Juvir responded without any reaction that would show: “Even if we did retain some secret—that we would not tell you, obviously—it would be very difficult for someone such as you to comprehend anyway.”
“That doesn’t exactly prove your words.”
“Then you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
Andrew bent his head down and rubbed his forehead. Multiple ideas from and beyond the conversation were running through his mind. He needed a break, and everyone could tell.
Juvir announced, “Alright, meeting adjourned. I will take full responsibility of Andrew from here on out.” All the other people left by walking through the sliding doors and into some teleportation caches—one for each person—in the hallway.
“I’ll leave you here to give you a quick break. In the meantime, take this.” Juvir pulled out a pill and added, “You are low on nutrients, so this will restore your body.” The human had been out of the pod for five hours.
“So, it’s just some kind of food pill?”
“Precisely. Judging by the size of your stomach, I will give these to you four times per ceth.”
“Okay, what? You’re flinging all these weird terms around and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“My mistake, how would you say this…oh, six times per day.”
Andrew thought that if these pills were supposed to be his meals, then he wouldn’t need them as many as six times per day. Then again, these pills were the size of any other pills on Earth, so there could be no way that one of these could suffice in terms of size.
“Once the pill hits your stomach acid, it will expand to a size large enough to sustain you for about…four hours.” The human’s worries fled as fast as they had arrived. “I’ll be back soon.”
Just as Juvir walked up to the doors that opened at his presence, Andrew interrupted him to ask another question. “Hey, who are you people, anyway? I know this has got to be part of some sort of organization, considering how you just had a ‘meeting.’”
Juvir turned his head around to answer: “We are the Alliance Of Interstellar Beings, or the AOIB, for short.”
And so, Andrew was left alone in the room with nothing but a pill. He still wanted to know what happened to his sword.
Chapter 3
Andrew Lockeford stared down at the pill he had in his hand, pondering for several minutes whether it would be a trap or not. It was a small white sphere that felt heavier than lead. From a distance, it appeared bland like any other pill, but when he brought it up to his nose to smell it, he jerked back without a moment to hesitate. The pill smelled strong and unusual; it had a mixture of sweet smells and fried food smells and even some sour and bitter smells that altogether smelled absolutely inconceivable, both good and bad. Now he was less likely to take the pill, knowing that it would taste even stronger than it smelled, and his gag reflex would not let it slide unnoticed. Eventually, however, Andrew decided to ingest the pill—and no water to go along with it. He didn’t care what the aliens were planning to do to him. And as he swallowed the pill as though he was committing suicide, he discovered that his gag reflex did not react, but his taste buds reacted violently. He had chills down his spine, his entire mouth almost felt cold from the sensation, and he could feel the pill every step down through his esophagus.
“Holy…shit, that was more than I expect—BRRUUAAAAAAAAAAAAP”
As the pill contacted his stomach acid, it expanded to the size of a baseball and forced all the air out of his stomach. He instantly felt full as though he ate a meal.
He couldn’t deny the alien was right, but the experience was more than unsettling. He was shaking at this point, the adrenalin running throughout his body even though the danger was well over. Then it occurred to him: Oh God, what if they’re just gonna torture me here until I die from absolute stress? What if they’re really just like those other freaky bastards?!? It was then that Andrew’s primal instincts took over and he ran for the doors. Unfortunately, the doors didn’t open and he slammed straight into them, bouncing back like from something out of a cartoon due to the doors’ physical reaction.
One should remember Newton’s Third Law from science class: “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”
Andrew barely escaped a concussion, yet his head throbbed painfully. Juvir came back in after mere moments with a smart remark: “Too bad the doors didn’t open for you.”
“Yeah, yeah, just tell me what you came here for. But first: where’s my fucking sword?!?”
“It’s right here in my hand. How can you be so silly not to see?”
Andrew looked at Juvir’s hand and, indeed, the sword was there. He was amazed to see it back, but that amazement was overshadowed by embarrassment. First he fails to see what happened to his clothes, now this. He thought, Either I’m having a hard time getting this alien environment into my head, or I hit my head really hard into the wall of the pod during the trip. Could be both.
“Oh, wow, I can’t believe you actually got it back for me. Doesn’t look like it’s been damaged, either…Thanks a lot! I really mean it! I had gone through a lot of work to get this in the first place…”
“The scientists and I saw it laying beside you in the pod, and we kept it until we were sure you could have it back. It seems very old, almost as though your species had created it. And yet it seems so familiar.”
“My species had nothing to do with this sword—I had found it and, well, took it while I was on an alien ship.”
The sword definitely did not look ordinary. The blade was divided into six segments, one being slightly smaller in width and thickness than the next; the segments collapsed into each other, similar to a toy lightsaber. The cross-section of the blade was shaped like a sideways teardrop rather than a rhombus. The safe end of the blade—the rounded curve of the “teardrop”—was made of a different material than the steel of the sharp end. The handle and the hilt were very familiar to Andrew, however, since they looked the same as most other handles and hilts on Earth swords. The steel on the sword had rusted from old age, but not so much that it would lose most of its sharpness. There was another feature to this sword, one that was activated by a button on the handle, but Juvir had permanently deactivated it.
“By the way,” Andrew continued, “you mentioned something about scientists, right?”
“Two scientists watched your escape pod land onto our planet and they decided to take you in for analysis. We debated whether we would even keep you here, considering you’re one of the forbidden species.”
“What? How am I forbidden?”
“Your planet, Earth, is still young and full of natural life, and we were worried that if any of us from the AOIB had gone over there, we would corrupt the natural development of your species. Planets ought to develop at their own pace.”
“…I don’t know what this planet looks like, or what anything looks like outside of this room. In fact, maybe you should just tell me everything about this place so I can get up-to-date.” Andrew wanted to command Juvir to his will, though his tone did nothing to make the alien respond. All he had to do was ask.
“Well, alright then. I’ll start with myself. I am Juvir, Vice President of the Alliance of Interstellar Beings, and this planet you are currently on is named Ku-an Doel. The president of this alliance is out momentarily, but he should be back in a couple of days.”
Man, Juvir really got the hang of Earth time, Andrew thought.
Let’s take a moment to discuss Juvir’s physical appearance: he was nearly eight feet tall, with his legs making up about three-fifths of his overall height. His head had no neck beneath it, making it appear as though his head was directly attached to his torso. His eyes and lips were wide and thin, and he just had holes for ears and a nose. His hands looked similar to a human’s, but his feet looked just like his hands; each of his four “hands” had seven fingers rather than five. He had no hair at all, his skin looked like crimson leather, and finally he wore a belt with a button in the middle that no one else from the AOIB meeting had on.
“I myself,” Juvir continued, “am part of a species called the miweri, but you should note that miweri are not native to this planet. You’ll see many intelligent species spending their time here on this planet. Ku-an Doel is one of hundreds of millions of planets that supports intelligent life, and one of trillions that supports life at all. The AOIB represents three hundred planets and therefore about three hundred intelligent species. And, well, on about all of the planets that intelligent life is found on, there is more civilization and urban area than natural wildlife. I mentioned before that we didn’t want to ruin your planet, and that facilitates mostly from the fact that we have done poorly maintaining our own. Ku-an Doel is under strict law to keep the amount of wildlife areas to no less than ten percent of the planet’s surface composition. That includes deserts and oceans, as well.”
Andrew was absolutely shocked by the “less than ten percent” part. If the facts were true, then this planet would just be one big city. He rashly asked Juvir to see the outside, hopefully from a high place.
“We’ll use the teleporters. I’ll show you where you’ll stand at.” Juvir opened the doors for Andrew and the two of them stepped onto a pad. The coordinates were set, Juvir pressed a button, the area around them flashed with light for two seconds, and they then found themselves on top of a skyscraper. There were two teleportation caches on top of the skyscraper, and the roof was made of a porous metal. Andrew threw up from such a quick change in altitude. He looked towards the horizon, leaving his bottom jaw hanging down with some stomach acid still dripping from his mouth. The acid had quickly disintegrated after touching the metal, but Andrew didn’t notice that. As far as he could see, there were shades of gray and not a spec of anything natural. There were vehicles both on the ground and in the sky. The atmosphere was clean and natural looking, but it was hot and heavy as if he was under sea level elevation. Or that the air on Ku-an Doel was simply more dense.
Andrew stared into the distance, taking everything at once for as long as he could. But it was not a gaze of wonder; instead, it was one of horror.
“This is what nearly all the planets are like. This is why we did not want to tamper with your world, because if we did, we might have influenced your people to become just like us, overwhelming the planet with artificial materials and waste for our own convenience. Even so, your world may end up like the rest of the universe anyway within a few thousand years or so.”
Andrew realized just how great he had it on Earth. Just the idea that he could drive his car fifty miles away and find himself in a natural, well-kept spot was a gift—a blessing. Earth’s urban areas took up only 1.5% of the world’s surface area. Compared to Ku-an Doel, Earth could be called the most preserved yet inhabitable planet in the universe.
“Everyone who lives under the name of the AOIB is civilized and united in this way. We all have food pills but no organic food. We all have people that we follow and respect, even if they’re not right for us. And though there are so many species living on this planet that work together without prejudice, we still treat newly-found beings such as yourself as freaks or animals or simply less than intelligent, civilized beings.” It was as though Juvir had read the human’s thoughts.
Andrew began to struggle to control his breathing. He was surprised to acknowledge he was keeping up with what Juvir was saying.
“We are so different, yet so alike at the same time. Civilizations have always put technology and society over nature. They have always had people who wanted change and others who preferred traditions. They have always treated outsiders as outcasts or even as monsters. I’m sure your species has always thought of extraterrestrials as monsters, no?”
The human was trying and failing to hold back tears at this point.
“There are two things that I shall tell you in conclusion. First, the only monsters that exist in this universe are ourselves. Secondly, you can bet that your planet is going to end up like this one here eventually.”
Andrew let out a half-bawl, half-scream: “SHUT UP!!!!! I’ve had enough already!!!” He fell down onto his hands and knees, crying without restraint. Juvir looked down to see the pathetic state that he had caused. The human had missed his family, his world, even the society that he had lived with that was at least somewhat real.
Juvir remarked, “I suppose I’ve given you well enough information.” Then he finished with one last statement that stuck with Andrew forever: “Welcome to your future.”
Chapter 4
Going back a few months, Andrew resides in a suburb in Los Angeles, California—the place where many American ideals are established, the kind of which that cannot be achieved because of their artificial nature. Women wanting to become so scrawny that the space between their ribs look like canyons. Men trying to gain so much muscle mass that people start to guess that they’re compensating for something. Andrew didn’t have much muscle tone, let alone muscle mass; add that on to the fact that he wasn’t fat and thus he’s a skinny person. American culture tends to imply that men either look skinny, buff, or fat—not much else in between.
Celebrities are the representatives of popular culture and its ideals. The very definition of “celebrity” comes from the word “celebrate,” showing that the person has supposedly made a major contribution to the public that’s worth celebrating over. While there are many celebrities who do not fulfill the stereotypes, who really have made a positive contribution to society and culture, many others neglect to do the same. They’re the ones that people look up to because of how they’re portrayed in the media, and whatever comes out of their mouths or results from their footsteps is bound to appear justified by others.
Many of these “representatives” are found here in L.A., telling people indirectly that they’re not good enough, that success means making more money regardless of how it is done; “the ends justify the means.” Aside from that, such people welcome the excitement of drug use, sex, and other antics that everyone else remembers the next day. Some do it out of pressure from fellow peers and celebrities whereas others do it out of their own free will. So what exactly do they have to say to makes these things OK?
“We all need fun once in a while. You ought to live life to the fullest.”
There’s a difference between escaping reality for a moment and escaping it as much as possible. If somebody doesn’t face the consequences after doing something the first time, then they may do it over and over again up to the point of desensitization, turning life into an empty, inescapable dream. One must think about all the other people that gave celebrities their privileges. Without their managers, their staff, their fans, and even their fellow celebrities, they would be the same as everybody else, struggling to achieve whatever it is they want in life.
Of course, thi
s isn’t the only place where artificiality comes from. Food advertisers make their food seem more appealing by spraying paint onto them, replacing ice cream with colored mashed potatoes, glue for milk, etc. Consumer products leave some person’s pocket a few hundred dollars empty each year just to end up as decorations that have no concrete use anymore—or had never been useful. People all over the nation argue over which of two candidates they want to win for the upcoming presidential election; usually, neither candidate is the better choice, as they ignore the issues that ought to be taken care of the most. People trust their leaders because they expect them to make changes and solve the problems that people won’t resolve themselves, but with such a polarized political system, unanimous resolutions are all too rare. As time goes by and as artificiality in the world increases, it becomes difficult for many to ignore.
Andrew is a young adult who has grown tired of this; he wants to see all the artificiality disappear so that he can drive to a small town and not have it feel similar to a large city. Presumably, people in small towns are more relaxed and content than those enduring the havoc of the big city. In a way, that still remains—but not entirely. In both towns and cities, one will find billboards, television, Internet, and other sorts of media in which society’s representatives can make their influence. Not everybody looks at a given advertisement and says, “I WANNA BUY THAT,” but the message still gets through unconsciously, almost like osmosis. And it can add up over time, one way or another.
Andrew took his place in Los Angeles so that he can get his college education at Cal Poly Pomona, where he studies for a high-quality engineering degree. He was never as interested in engineering as he was in art and philosophy, and he had the skills to do whatever he chose, but many people know that a philosophy student is not as likely to be successful. The former may wish that he or she didn’t have to sit in a cubicle several hours per day, but the latter will more likely wish for a steady job in order to put food onto the table. There doesn’t seem to be a single place in the modern world, no method of traveling or living there, that doesn’t require money in some way.