The Schrödinger Enigma

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The Schrödinger Enigma Page 8

by Greg Krojac


  “Who are you? Come out and stand up so I can see you properly”

  The stranger understood Jason’s gestures and did as he was told. There was nowhere to run to anyway, and he was unarmed. Jason looked at him again.

  “What’s your name?”

  The stranger said nothing.

  “You must have a name. Everybody has a name.”

  Again, no response. A thought crossed Jason’s mind. Perhaps the man was deaf or dumb, or perhaps he just didn’t speak English. Jason asked the question in Spanish but got the same response.

  “Can you hear me?”

  The man looked puzzled and gestured towards his right ear, behind which was located something that looked like a hearing aid.

  “So you’re deaf then.”

  Jason was confused. The man opposite him was a man, but yet not a man. He wasn’t a man like any that Jason had come across, anyway. He stood about five foot five tall, and was obviously very strong; his arms and legs, although they appeared to be a little shorter than normal, were very muscular. His head, however, seemed elongated and his brow was more pronounced than anyone’s that Jason had ever seen. His nose was broad and seemed to project quite a lot from his face, but his chin was almost non-existent. His eyes were unusually large, but just the right size to fill the evidently larger eye sockets of the man, although slightly obscured by the size his brow. Was Jason face-to-face with an alien? Perhaps, but he didn’t think so. This was definitely a human, albeit a rather strange looking one. The man didn’t seem to be threatening, although he was obviously feeling nervous, which was hardly surprising really, considering his present circumstances Having got over his initial shock, Jason continued.

  “My name’s Jason. Jason Green.”

  The man pointed at Jason’s mouth.

  “That’s my mouth.”

  Jason felt like he was having a conversation with a two-year-old. Jason resisted the temptation to speak in broken English. The man might look like a caveman, but he was still human. The stranger opened and closed his hand, like someone might do to signify that somebody is talking too much.

  “You want me to stop talking?”

  The man became agitated.

  “Oh. Sorry. You want me to keep talking?”

  The stranger opened and closed his mouth several times, all the while pointing at Jason, who was unsure what to do.

  “I don’t know what you want, so I’ll keep talking. If you’re deaf you won’t hear me anyway, so it won’t matter.”

  Jason was pleased to have someone to talk to, even if the conversation was all in one direction. It didn’t explain why he didn’t seem to be able talk though. Jason had met a few deaf people in his life, and most were able to speak to some extent or another. Maybe, the stranger had been deaf and dumb from birth. That could explain his silence.

  Jason told his new companion his life story. He told him about his schooldays, about his dating experiences, about the jobs he’d done in his life. He told him about his family, and about his divorce. He wasn’t really sure why he told the stranger so much personal information, but the man had a kindly face and seemed to be listening intently, even though he couldn’t hear Jason. The autobiography ended with Jason explaining how he had ended up in the warehouse.

  “And that’s my story. I wish you could tell me your story, but I understand that you can’t.”

  The man nodded and Jason nearly jumped out of his skin when he spoke to him.

  “Thank you, Jason. I will tell you about myself, but now is not the time. We have company.”

  Jason’s pursuers hadn’t given up. The metal door opened and two figures stepped through the opening, silhouetted in the glare of daylight, before advancing into the darkness of the warehouse. Jason put a finger up to his lips to gesture to the stranger that he should remain silent but was surprised to see that the man had disappeared. He was on his own again.

  He ducked behind a packing crate and tried not to even breathe, lest the men hear him. He watched as they made their way along the aisle between the racks, peering between the spaces, looking for their prey. Suddenly, one of the tall racks started teetering at an angle, until a dozen boxes slid off the racking and landed directly on top of the intruders, knocking them out cold. Jason emerged from his hiding place and joined his stocky saviour who was looking at the two unconscious men.

  “Obviously those boxes weren’t full of diapers.”

  He grabbed his new friend by the arm.

  “Come on. We’d better get out of here. There were others who’ll miss them.”

  Sitara had cried herself to sleep the previous night, and she was grateful that her mind had allowed her to do so, for she couldn’t have taken any more stress that day. She felt like giving up and letting go of life, but clearly that wasn’t what Allah had planned for her. She’d slept right through to the next morning, waking up exactly where she had lain down in the playground. She dragged her body up off the asphalt and looked around her, hoping that yesterday had been a bad dream, but the little girl was still dead on the swing, and her mother was still dead on the ground behind her.

  She started walking, driven, looking straight ahead, to avoid making eye contact with anything that wasn’t within the scope of her forward vision. She had no desire for peripheral vision; peripheral vision merely magnified the horror of her new environment. She walked for hours, like a woman possessed, ignoring the pain in her legs and the exhaustion that was creeping back into her body, lack of food taking its toll. She strode out of downtown Bethesda, through the suburbs, and onto a highway. She didn’t know where she was going, but she didn’t care.

  Jason wasn’t sure that he could trust his new companion fully, but was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt - after all, the stranger had just saved his life. The most pressing problem at that moment was to get as far away from the area as possible. There were a number of vehicles parked outside the warehouse, and it didn’t take too long to find one that had been left unlocked. Jason could never understand why so many Americans still seemed to leave their cars unlocked, but he was grateful for the owner’s lack of judgement. He jumped into the driver’s seat and beckoned the stranger to get in the SUV too.

  “Come on. Get in. We can’t waste time admiring the car.”

  The stranger was checking the car over and seemed particularly taken by the wheels, which amused him greatly. Jason was becoming impatient.

  “What’s so funny? We have to get out of here.”

  Jason’s saviour climbed into the passenger seat.

  “The vehicles of your planet have wheels.”

  Jason put the Chevy SUV into gear and its wheels span for a second or two before finding traction and propelling the vehicle out of the parking lot at speed, snaking a little before settling down and accelerating along the highway. The passenger shook his head.

  “We do not have that problem with our vehicles.”

  Jason had so many questions to ask but waited until the car was on the freeway before interrogating his passenger.

  “So…I told you my name back in the warehouse. What’s your name?”

  “I am Enak.”

  “Why didn’t you answer when I started talking to you back there?”

  “I had nothing to say. Not because I did not want to talk to you, but because I could not. I did not understand what you were saying.”

  Jason pointed towards his own ear.

  “I thought you were deaf. You’re wearing a hearing aid. You seem to speak good English now. How did that happen?”

  Enak laughed.

  “It is a universal translating device.”

  “A translating device?”

  “Yes. It looks for patterns in speech and uses them to infer the construction of the target language. That is why I wanted you to keep talking to me. It never stops learning and updating its database. It is doing so as we speak.”

  “OK. I can see how that would help you understand what I’m saying, but how are you able to tal
k to me?”

  “It is connected directly to the left cerebral cortex of my brain and delivers the translation directly, so my mouth and larynx operate accordingly.”

  Jason was impressed. His next question could be tricky.

  “So, Enak, I don’t mean to give offence, but what are you?”

  “I am human.”

  “But you found it funny that the vehicles on our planet have wheels. You said, and I quote, the vehicles of your planet have wheels. Are you from another planet?”

  “I am, but I am still human.”

  Jason was trying to be tactful, but it was no easy task.

  “You look human in some ways, but in others you don’t. I mean you’re basically like us; two arms, two legs, but to be honest, you look like the pictures of Neanderthals that I’ve seen. No offence[a18].”

  Enak looked confused.

  “What are Neanderthals?”

  “They were another species of human that used to live on Earth, but became extinct thousands and thousands of years ago.”

  “Ah. I think I understand. We are Argon, but perhaps you call us Neanderthal. We originate from this planet.”

  Jason was stunned. Was he really driving a car along the freeway, with a real live Neanderthal sitting in the passenger seat?

  “Enak, but if you’re a Neanderthal…”

  “Argon.”

  “If Argons and Neanderthals are the same species, you became extinct about forty thousand years ago.”

  “Not extinct. We left. In fact, we were taken.”

  Jason’s mind was abuzz. What Enak was saying filled his head with more questions.

  “But Neanderthals were the dumb ones.”

  He immediately wished he hadn’t said that. You don’t insult someone you’ve just met, by calling their race, or species, or whatever, dumb. Especially if they look like they have the strength to snap your bones like a twig.”

  Enak laughed out loud so hard, that he was forced to hold his belly in an attempt to control himself.

  “We are the dumb ones? You are still using wheels. We have perfected interstellar travel. You are still sending unmanned spacecraft to explore the universe, and you have only just got one of them to leave your solar system. I think we both know which one of us is the dumb species here - and it is not mine. I will answer more of your questions later, but now, I need to get some sleep. However, before I do, I have one question for you.”

  Perhaps pushing that racking over took more out of Enak than he was letting on.

  “OK. But please tell me more later on. What’s your question?”

  Enak yawned.

  “Where are we going?”

  Two miles into a twelve mile stretch of Branch Avenue, the MD-5 S, Jason thought he spotted someone walking along the hard shoulder. He slowed down to take a closer look as he drove past, remembering his close escape at the warehouse and not wanting to take any unnecessary risks. As he passed the person, he looked to his right and saw that it was a young woman, unarmed and looking totally exhausted. He had a very brief debate with himself - Enak was still sleeping - and stopped the car. Putting the vehicle in reverse gear he backed up until he was alongside the woman, who by now looked fit to drop. He wound down the driver’s window.

  “Hi. Can I offer you a ride?”

  Sitara’s initial instincts were to refuse. Her mother, like mothers the world over, had drilled into her as a child that you shouldn’t accept rides from strangers, but these were extraordinary times. The fear of infection didn’t cross her mind, as she was obviously immune. She really wanted to jump into the car and lock the door, to be with living human beings again, but hesitated.

  “Where are you going?”

  Jason thought that that was a strange question to ask at a time like this. She didn’t look like she was deliberately going anywhere, but rather was leaving somewhere.

  “To Mechanicsville. Well, close to Mechanicsville. An Amish settlement on Route 236. Where are you going?”

  Sitara shrugged her shoulders.

  “Nowhere really. I just knew I had to get away from Bethesda. It’s full of dead people.”

  Jason unlocked the right-hand rear door of the car.

  “You’d better get in. It’s too dangerous to walk along the highway like this. [a19]Especially now.”

  Sitara ignored her mother’s warnings and got in the car. She knew it would be difficult to survive on her own, her feet were hurting, and she had nothing better to do. Sure, this guy and his sleeping friend could be rapists and murderers, but for some reason she had a feeling that joining them in the car was the safer option. The driver looked like a good man - whatever a good man was supposed to look like, that is. She couldn’t see his friend’s face, but chances were that if the driver was a good man, then his friend would be too. Jason turned towards his new guest and offered his hand.

  “Hello again. I’m Jason. And Sleeping Beauty here is Enak.”

  Sitara accepted the handshake.

  “I’m Sitara. Pleased to meet you, Jason. Sorry to be so direct, but do you have anything to eat? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten for hours.”

  Jason took two packets of Oreos from the glove compartment.

  “Not exactly a square meal, I’m afraid.”

  He handed the packets to Sitara, who gratefully started to eat. She continued eating while she thanked him, something that her mother wouldn’t have approved of. Talking with one’s mouth full was a definite failure of etiquette in her eyes. But Sitara was far too hungry to worry about observing the niceties of table manners.

  “Thanks for the cookies, Jason.”

  “No problem.”

  “Your friend’s name is Enak? That’s unusual.”

  Jason accelerated off the hard shoulder to continue driving along the road.

  “Strange name, strange man. I’ve only just met him, but he seems ok. He saved my life back in Bethesda, so that’s a good start. I’ll introduce you properly when he wakes up. We can get something more substantial to eat too.”

  Sitara fastened her seatbelt, and suddenly realized that she was sharing the rear seat with a semi-automatic rifle. She told herself to ignore it, it shouldn’t be a surprise that these men have armed themselves - nobody knew what dangers may lay ahead. In normal times she was fervently in favour of strict gun controls, but these were no longer normal times. Jason looked in the rear-view mirror and could see that Sitara’s eyes kept glancing towards the rifle.

  “There’s a coat on the parcel shelf. You can cover it up with the coat if you like.”

  “Sorry?”

  “The rifle. Cover the rifle with a coat if you like. There’s a coat on the rear dash. I can see the gun’s bothering you. I don’t like the idea of civilians having guns either, but these days you need something to protect yourself with. Not all survivors are going to be nice people.”

  Sitara covered the weapon and immediately felt more relaxed.

  “You’re a Brit aren’t you?”

  “My accent gave it away, yeah?”

  “I like the British accent. Kinda sophisticated.”

  “The accent may sound sophisticated to you Americans, but we’re like anyone else.”

  “I’m actually from Pakistan originally, but I came to the States as a child. So why are you here?”

  “I came over here a few years ago to work on an engineering project, liked it, met my wife and stayed.”

  “Where’s your wife now?”

  The delay in answering made Sitara wish she hadn’t asked the question, but it was difficult to suddenly eradicate normal everyday questions from small talk.

  “She died. The plague.”

  “I’m sorry. It was insensitive of me to ask.”

  “It’s alright. It’s not your fault. The disease has taken so many people.”

  Sitara suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She could well be the reason that Jason’s wife was dead. She and the crew of the Alaskan Mermaid had almost certainly brought the virus back to the main
land with them. But how could she have known?

  “What about your friend, Enak? What does he do?”

  “I’ll let him explain. As I said, I only met him this morning. I’ll tell you one thing though. I think he’s got one hell of a story to tell us.”

  Sitara was feeling more comfortable now, and she was glad that she had ignored her mother’s advice. As the vehicle turned left onto MD-5 S/Mattawoman Beantown Road, Jason handed Sitara a bottle of Gatorade.

  “Sorry, I should’ve offered you something to drink earlier.”

  Sitara took the bottle from Jason’s outstretched hand.

  “Thanks. I could do with that too.”

  “So, what were you doing in Bethesda? You live there?”

  Sitara saw no need to hide anything. The two - three of them now - were obviously in the same boat, immune to the disease. She’d rather that her rescuers know that she wasn’t a danger to them.

  “I was at the Institute of Health. They were studying me, doing tests and what-not, to try to find out why I was immune.”

  “I’d like to know that too. Everyone around me died, but not me. I reckon I must be immune too.”

  “And your friend?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I assume he’s also immune.”

  “Anyway, I was in an isolation room, helping them try to find a vaccine, when suddenly I realized that I was on my own. I was locked in the room and couldn’t get out. I thought I was going to die of thirst and starvation. Suzy - one of my nurses - let me out.”

  “Where’s Suzy now?”

  “Dead.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I managed to get out of the hospital but all I found outside were sick people dying and corpses all over the place. The city smelled like death. I had to get out of there. So I started walking, not caring where I was going. I just had to get away from there.”

  Jason spotted a petrol station alongside a small outlet centre a couple of hundred yards further up the road.

  “I’m going to pull in at that petrol station to see if there’s any food there. We don’t need fuel yet, the car already had a full tank when we picked it up, but we could do with more food.”

 

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