by Mark A Labbe
After they departed I returned home, and for the first time in days, checked for messages on my communications device. I had more than I could count, but one stood out.
“Sorry about Clive,” it read. “Hope you are okay.”
I responded, “Who are you?” No response.
Three days later, two hundred thousand, nine hundred, ninety-nine people across the globe exploded.
Five days after that, scientists in Norway found microscopic rectangles in the remains of one of the victims. Imprinted on the rectangles were the words, “Made in Canada, you infidel pigs!”
Not long after, the same scientists found trace amounts of radioactive particles in the remains of that same victim. Then the word “pnuke” emerged in the media.
A pnuke is a personnel nuke. Millions of these devices had been deployed into the bodies of the victims and detonated. The scientists believed they had been constructed by nano-bots, although they had not been able to find any nano-bots in the remains.
The world turned its eyes toward Canada. Canada’s response was simply, “It could have been worse, you hosers.”
The world responded swiftly, condemning the Canadians. Sanctions were put in place, and US troops started massing on the US, Canadian border.
I wasn’t so sure the Canadians had done this, although I had to admit, they probably didn’t love Clive. After all, he had written terrible things about them and had wreaked havoc on their computers and networks. What if they knew about the viruses? That could have been cause to go after him.
Still, something didn’t add up. Why would the Canadians leave those little rectangles behind? Why would they announce their involvement?
Clive’s death really pissed me off, and I had little faith in the people investigating the matter, people I believed were more interested in the technology behind the pnukes than in capturing those who were responsible for this atrocity, so I took things into my own hands. I wrote a virus that when deployed would search through files on host computers and send back files that contained certain keywords. Using a wide variety of illegal methods, I deployed the virus and waited for information to come in.
At first, I received too much information, so I modified the virus and redeployed it. The new information proved much better and I soon found an email originating from Barrow, Alaska, to some guy named Doug in Toronto. It read, “Doug, Great first test of the nano-technology. Pnukes (I love that word) appear to be effective. I just want to say, I heard Bob say we should kill everyone, and I have to say, that was not the deal. Three million must remain for the plan to work. I don’t want to have to pull the plug on this operation, but I will if Bob doesn’t get his head on straight. Aputi.”
I looked up the name Aputi, an Inuit name. I then identified the location of the computer from which the email originated. I believed this Aputi character was the one I was after. Not long after, I saw a response from Doug, “Aputi, don’t worry about Bob. He’s a hoser. Three million will be spared, as agreed, but Bob and I don’t want to be in that list. Doug.”
Aputi wrote back, “Yeah, I know. I don’t care if you guys kill yourselves. Just save three million.”
I considered going to the authorities, but thought that would land me in a heap of trouble, given my highly illegal activities. However, if I could get more evidence, maybe the authorities would forgive me for my transgressions.
I deployed new viruses to Aputi and Doug’s computers and waited. After a few hours, I had the entire contents of their hard drives. I found the plans for the nano-bots and the pnukes. I also found the list of the three million people who would be spared. My name was not on that list. Then, I found something that startled me, a file with my name, Kev_Pryce.txt. I opened the file and read it. “Kev, we should talk. Come to Barrow, Alaska. Meet me at Singularity Bar. Aputi.”
I traveled to Barrow, and, as instructed, went to Singularity Bar, a strange dive with an otherworldly vibe. When I arrived I was the only one in the bar, so I sat on a stool and waited. A woman (she might have been an alien) came out from the back and said, “What are you having?”
“I don’t know. A beer, I guess.”
“You look like you need a green tea,” she (it) said.
“No, thanks, a beer is fine.”
“Suit yourself.”
Green tea stirred a memory, but one I couldn’t recover.
“Do you know Aputi?” I said, as the bartender placed a pint of beer on the bar in front of me.
“Yeah, he’s sitting right behind you.”
I turned around and saw an old, wrinkled man wearing a parka, shorts, and flip-flops, sitting at a small table. He looked up at me and motioned for me to sit with him.
I sat down across from him and said, “Why are you going to kill everyone on this planet?”
“Settle down, Kev. Actually, can I call you Kevin? Kev is such a stupid name. Were your parents mentally challenged?”
“My name is Kev,” I said, more than a little annoyed.
“Whatever. Look, before you assume the worst, hear me out.”
“I’m listening.”
“The universe is going to end if I don’t save it.”
“Really?” I said skeptically, although part of me accepted this.
“Really. The only way to save it is to get rid of most of humanity, then get rid of all of the things humanity has created and re-engineer the minds of the ones who remain. Those re-engineered humans will save the universe.”
“You know that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. What does killing billions of people and wiping out all traces of civilization have to do with saving the universe?”
“It has everything to do with saving the universe, lad.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said.
“Well, you don’t have much choice. There is nothing you can do to stop me. Further, if you don’t help me, you won’t be on the list of people to be saved and re-engineered.”
“I could go to the authorities right now. I have enough evidence to bury you.”
“Kev, all of the nano-bots are already deployed. All I have to do is press the button on this cube five times and everyone other than those three million who will be re-engineered will die, including you,” said Aputi, showing me a little brown cube with a yellow button.
“I don’t believe you,” I said.
“Tell you what, Kev. I can tap the button twice and another three hundred thousand will die, if you need me to prove my point. Maybe you will be one of those three hundred thousand. Who knows? I don’t keep track of these things.”
“Well, it sounds like you don’t need me if you can already kill off most of humanity.”
“But, I do need you. You see, Kev, I need something, something that will allow me to re-engineer your minds. It’s a little yellow cube. Only you can find it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll still kill pretty much everyone.”
“Yeah, but you won’t save the universe,” I said, wondering if that would make any difference to this deranged man.
Aputi paused before saying, “You are wrong. I can find it without you, but it will take much longer than it would take for you to find it. Of course, the universe will expire in about three years, so hopefully I can find it before then.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Do you want to live?”
“Isn’t there another way?” I said.
“Well, you could prevent the destruction of the universe, but you clearly don’t know how to do that or you would have done it already.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Kev, you have some serious memory problems, and those memory problems could get us all killed. I have found a way around your memory problems and I can save the universe, but you have to help me.”
“So, I have to help you kill billions of people?”
>
“It is for the greater good, Kev. You’re a utilitarian kind of guy, aren’t you?”
“What do you need me to do?”
“You need to bring me the yellow cube.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, how am I supposed to find it?”
“You have to find the girl.”
“What girl?”
“How should I know? All I know is that you can find her.”
“You’re not human, are you?” I said.
“Absolutely not. I am a Bladrithian, a shape changer.”
“Oh yeah, well why don’t you change into a hot blonde?”
“Look, you shit-nosed punk. Are you going to help me or are you going to die?” Aputi briefly changed into a gorgeous blonde, wearing a red cocktail dress and a string of pearls.
I agreed to help Aputi, but only to buy time while I tried to save humanity and possibly the universe, if his claim was true. He agreed to hold off on killing more people before I found the cube.
By the time I got back home, I had forgotten everything that had anything to do with Aputi or the pnukes. I remembered Clive’s death, however, and I remembered my communications device. Further, I remembered the plans for the black cube. I knew I needed it for something, but didn’t know what. Of course, had I remembered Aputi, I would have known that I needed the black cube to go back in time and stop him.
Looking around my family room, I realized I needed to clean things up. I needed someone to come in and get rid of everything, clean the walls, replace the carpet and do something about the horrible stench.
I made some calls and got everything lined up, and then checked my messages on the communication device. There were thousands of messages, far too many to read. I did my best to scan through them.
One read, “Loved Cat’s Cradle. Can you send more books by Vonnegut?” I dug up a couple of Vonnegut’s books and sent them over.
Another read, “Are you sure you’re not lonely? Don’t you think a little intercopulation would cheer you up? Ruby.” I ignored that, not knowing what intercopulation was, and not really liking the sound of it.
A third read, “I hear you’re looking for me. Maybe we should hook up. the girl.” I stopped there. I wasn’t looking for anyone, or was I? Had I forgotten something important? I isolated the source of that message to a star some thirty-seven billion light-years away. I was pretty certain I didn’t know anyone who lived thirty-seven billion light-years away, but suspected I might. I wrote back, “Who are you and why am I looking for you?” She wrote, “Don’t answer the door.” I heard a knock on the door, but ignored it. “Are you messing with me?” I wrote. “Maybe, but I was serious about not answering the door.” “Who are you?” I wrote. “I’m the girl, dummy.” Again, I felt memories stirring, but couldn’t attach to any of them. “Where are you?” I wrote. “I’m on Uthio Minor. Does that ring any bells?” It did, but I didn’t know why. “Go have a green tea,” she wrote. “Do you have a little, yellow cube?” was my response, wondering why I asked that. “Indeed I do. Now, go to the bar and have a green tea. If I can break free I’ll meet you there.” “Are you really thirty-seven billion light-years away?” “Yes. Now go.”
My mind reeling, and forgetting the girl had instructed me to go to the bar, I went to the fridge to see if I had any green tea. Finding none, I went to the market. They were out. I didn’t feel like driving ten miles to the supermarket right then, so I went to the bar to have a beer, having completely forgotten being instructed to have a green tea.
“Hey, Kev,” said Max, the bartender, an enormous, barrel-chested man with a gray beard and mustache.
“Hey, Max.”
“What are you having?”
“I don’t know. A beer, I guess.”
“You look like you could use a green tea,” said Max. “What’s on your mind?”
I didn’t know what was on my mind other than some girl and a little, yellow cube. “I’m not sure.”
“Tell you what. I’ll fix you a green tea. Maybe that will help you.”
I looked around the bar, seeing the usual crowd of regulars, most of whom I barely remembered. One of them--I was pretty sure his name was Barry--walked up to me and said, “Did you hear the news?”
“What news?” I said.
“The Canadians killed another three hundred thousand people,” said Barry.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“You’ve forgotten, haven’t you, Kev? Do you remember me?”
“Yeah, you’re Barry, right?”
“Do you remember when the Canadians killed Clive?”
“The Canadians killed Clive?” I said, not remembering the Canadians’ involvement in Clive’s death.
“Oh, brother. Look, the Canadians killed Clive and then days later they killed another two hundred thousand, nine hundred, ninety-nine people. Now, they’ve killed another three hundred thousand. We’re about to go to war.”
I hadn’t been paying any attention to the news, so this was all new to me. “Why did they do that?” I said.
“Who knows? There all a bunch of nihilists, every last one of them.”
“Here’s your tea, Kev,” said Max. “Drink up. Maybe you’ll get your memories back.”
“You travel in time too much, Kev,” said Barry.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“You know, you really shouldn’t do that, Kev. You’ll get time lag,” said Barry.
“What?” I said, forgetting pretty much everything that had just happened, including the part about the Canadians pnuking another three hundred thousand people.”
“Nothing, Kev. You’ll figure it out. Anyway, it’s against the rules to tell you.”
“What rules?” I said.
“I’ve already said too much,” said Barry, walking away.
I took a sip of the green tea and heard children laughing and playing. I looked around the bar, seeing no signs of children. Max noticed this and said, “Don’t worry, Kev. It always starts off that way.”
“What starts off that way?” I said.
Max laughed.
“Welcome to The You Have Some Work to Do Experience, Kev,” said a woman’s voice.
“Hello?” I said, realizing the voice was inside my head.
“Now, pay attention, Kev. We have some things to go over,” she said.
I listened carefully as the woman explained at least part of the current situation. Of course, she didn’t clue me in on most things, but gave me enough information to know that there was a mad Bladrithian named Aputi trying to wipe out humankind. She also told me I needed to find the girl, but not so I could get the yellow cube. Instead, I had to make sure Aputi never got the yellow cube, regardless of whether or not the universe would end.
The woman finished and I found myself sitting next to Clive on the couch in our family room. He had a bowl of cereal in his hand and was laughing.
“We’ll see if he figures it out,” laughed Clive. “I wonder where he left the black cube? I bet he lost it years ago. Probably has totally forgotten about it.” Clive chuckled.
“What are you talking about?” I said, looking at him.
Clive ignored me and continued, “And what happened to the red cube and the clear cube? Too funny. Ah, well, it is clearly a patience game now.”
Clive exploded, and then I found myself sitting back at the bar, my head spinning. I looked at my glass and then at Max, wondering if there was some sort of hallucinogen in my drink. Max looked at me and winked.
I remembered the girl, and vaguely remembered she had said she might come to see me at the bar. I looked around, but only saw a bunch of guys hanging around. Maybe she said she would meet me at my house.
“Hey, Max,” I called out. “What do I owe you?”
“Nada,” said Max. “Sponsored drink.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, not really processing what Max had said. I dropped a five on the bar and returned to my house. I waited
for the girl to show up, but she never did.
The next day, two guys from a neighboring town came over to take away all of the furniture from the family room. I let them in and they started hauling the stuff out.
The whole house reeked, given that I had not yet made any attempt to clean up the blood and remaining human matter on the walls, windows, ceiling and floor. I made a note to myself to have someone come in and clean the place up, having forgotten that I had already done just that and that the cleaners would be there later that day to clean up the mess.
I noticed the blue cube, which I had forgotten, sitting on the coffee table and picked it up, wondering what it was, not remembering the pale blue alien that had delivered it.
“Why hello, Kev,” said a voice inside my head. “We didn’t think you’d come on The Show. Thought we were going to have to pay you a visit and convince you to be a guest.”
“Uh, who is this?” I said.
“You talking to me?” said one of the guys who was now taking out a chair.
“Um, no,” I said.
“I’m your host, B24ME,” said the voice. “You remember me, don’t you?”
“No.”
“You don’t need to talk out loud, Kev. People will think you are crazy.”
“Am I crazy?” I thought.
“That remains to be seen. So, are you ready for your next challenge?”
“Next challenge?” This reminded me of something from my past, a game I used to play with Clive.
“Oh, come on Kev,” laughed B24ME. “How could you forget The Show? How could you forget me?”
I wondered if I was dreaming. “I don’t know. What is The Show?”
“You should know, Kev. By the way, do you mind if we give you another name for the duration of The Show?”
“Like what?”
“Turd Fondler has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“No, it does not. Just call me Kev.”
“But, that is a stupid name, Turd Fondler.”
“Just call me Kev,” I said.