KATACLYSM: A Space-Time Comedy (9 page)

“I can’t take you home now,” said Paroophoron as he made the craft veer left flinging the two humans onto the floor once again.

“Well, why not?” Flower stamped as she tried to pull herself up.

“Because I have to get those cookies home to my wife’s dinner party before she kills me,” replied the alien gravely.

Flower pouted.  Then noticing that this was having no effect, she nudged Jude.

“Now see here, whoever you are,” he hazarded, not entirely ungallantly.  “You can’t just kidnap us and take us to some dinner party…”  Jude didn’t quite know where to go with this.  A lifetime of watching films about aliens had taught him that, when humans were gobbled up by UFOs, it involved elaborate schemes for world domination or, at a minimum, rectal exploration, not dinner parties.  Sensing that his guest was perturbed, Paroophoron tried to be appeasing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you home as soon as I can.  I’m Paroophoron by the way.”

“Oh,” said Jude completely ungallantly.  “Pleased to meet you.  I’m Jude and this is Flower.”

Flower glared at Jude and continued pouting.

“Say, Paroophoron,” said Jude.  “We must be traveling much faster than the speed of light.  Is that possible?”

The alien crinkled his forehead.

“What’s the speed of light?”

At the dawn of time, two extraordinary entities set out to inhabit the universe.  They were called energy “E” and mass “m”.  Being new to the cosmos, at first, the two remained separate and spent most of their time exploring the vast expanse they now called home.  Then, one magical evening eons ago, the two met.  The first thing they discovered was that they were related.  This bothered neither “E” nor “m” much since they had no problem at all with relativity.  But something else happened as well, something that neither of them could have ever expected.  They fell in love.  Now some people may say that it’s foolhardy to think that two concepts could love each other and even more foolish to think that it could happen between the two strongest, most stubborn entities in the universe.  Yet, somehow it did.  And not only were “E” and “m” madly in love, but it was the most intense, passionate love that had existed to that time or has existed since.

Not long after, the couple was married to the delight of everyone who knew them.  Upon exchanging vows, “E” and “m” decided that they wanted to do something to cement their connection in a way that had never been done before.  They decided that they wanted to become a single unit, a unique entity with their love constant and enduring.  And so they did, and the constant was called “c” and it represented the breathtaking burst of fireworks that accompanied “E” and “m” everywhere they went.  And their adoration was so strong that they wanted to make their love constant again and again and so it happened that “c” and “c” became “c2”.

For a tantalizingly brief period of several millennia, “E” truly equaled “mc2”, the two were as one.  “E”, “m” and their constant “c” love were known throughout the whole of creation.  Even God gave an awkward wink of satisfaction but then was disappointed to see that no one was watching him.  In spite of everything, today, in some backwaters of the universe, and yes, the planet Earth is most definitely included on that list, there are still remnants of the constant “c”.  Humans have even given it their own name, the “speed of light”.  But while “c” does exist in the distant recesses of planetary memory, alas, it is no more.  You see, “E” and “m” were soul mates, there was no doubt about that, but each was too strong a personality for their bond to remain stable.  During their long and difficult struggle to stay together, the marriage of “E” and “m” had weakened beyond the point of viability.  After one particularly nasty fight that almost left the Andromeda system without any moons, “E” and “m” went their separate ways and their “c” was lost forever.

While the universe has never forgotten or really recovered from this tragedy, it had an interesting side effect.  Since the constant “c” no longer operated, intergalactic travel could be undertaken at virtually any speed one could get to.  As a result, Jude, Flower and Paroophoron arrived at the planet Adnexia within seven hours of their departure from Earth, a complete impossibility had they been traveling at what humans call “the speed of light”.

The silver saucer carrying Paroophoron and his two passengers swiftly navigated a path directly between Adnexia’s two giant moons and entered the atmosphere, gliding down to a soft landing outside a large villa on a hill overlooking a vast cityscape.  To Flower, this new world really did not look as alien as she might have expected.  She could see grass, trees and structures not wholly unlike those on Earth.  Still, she regarded her new environs with some trepidation as she surveyed it from inside the spaceship.

“Are we meant to get out?” she asked Jude anxiously.  He was also staring out the window with a perplexed look.

Before Jude could respond, the large hatch above them opened wide. Paroophoron scurried between them and began stuffing fortune cookies back into the large box from Wu’s.  Jude shrugged and began to help the little alien.  Five minutes later, the three occupants of the ship emerged out of the hatch.  Paroophoron looked at his watch with a satisfied expression while Jude struggled to carry the box to the side door of the residence.

“I hope he’ll at least tip you for this,” whispered Flower.

When they got to the door, which had apparently been left unlocked, Paroophoron took the box and shoved it inside.  Still standing at the threshold, the alien then closed the door and started ushering the humans away from the house.

“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” asked Flower.

“Are you joking?  I can’t let my wife see you,” said Paroophoron as he prodded them to increase their walking pace.  “She’ll murder me.  You don’t know what she’s like.  You should have seen her when I brought the wrong soup home.”

Although it was clearly evening on Adnexia, the two moons shone so brightly that Paroophoron’s garden was illuminated as it might have been in late afternoon on Earth.  Jude and Flower admired the trees which arched in various directions, shielding the dwelling from passersby.  From what they had seen, Paroophoron truly lived in a spectacular home.  An entryway of short white columns preceded the angulated façade which alternated in colour between various shades of peach.  The russet tiled rooftops and awnings buttressed a central cream coloured tower.  At the apex of the tower was a small balcony that struck Jude as almost Romanesque.

Presently, they hurried through a driveway lined with beautifully manicured hedges until they arrived at a large iron gate with two smaller door-sized gates on each side.  Paroophoron pushed a button on the wall whilst in mid-stride and one of the doors opened allowing them onto the road.  Paroophoron rummaged in his side pocket and withdrew several large coins.  He dropped three into the hand of each of his companions.

“Here is some money,” the alien said.

He also withdrew a large, red flashing box which he gave to Jude.

“This will let me find you when the party is over,” Paroophoron continued, “so don’t lose it.  Now, you’re welcome to go wherever you like, just don’t hang around here.  Got it?”

Flower nodded uncertainly.  Jude was looking to the left and to the right, up and down, too preoccupied with his surroundings to respond.  With the fortune cookies still sitting in a crate in his kitchen, the alien decided to finish his instructions anyway.

“Don’t worry too much if people don’t speak English, most folks around here are pretty friendly.”

With that, the tiny green alien disappeared back onto the path towards his home, the iron door clanging and locking behind him.

The two humans were left alone facing the entrance.  On either side of the stone boundaries of the gate was a small plaque with a word written on it.  Jude and Flower were surprised to find that they could read them.  The plaque on the left looked like this

VILLA

The plaque on the right looked like this

EPOOPHORON

Next to this second plaque was the number “15”.

“Where do we go now?” asked Flower.

Jude ignored her, continuing to survey their environment.  Facing the road, they saw a long columned walkway coloured in the same shades as the house.  To the right it led up the hill, to the left it seemed to lead down to the city.  Flower tried again.

“Do we go up or down?”

Again, Jude seemed not to have heard her.

“It’s astonishing.  I almost can’t believe it.  You know what this is Flower?” Jude asked shaking his head in amazement.

“I know what it is.  It’s baloney that’s what.”

“No,” snapped Jude irritatedly, turning to her, “it’s not baloney.  It’s Bologna…We’re in Italy.”

It is a well-known fact on Earth that no two snowflakes are alike.  Each is unique and it is this uniqueness that makes them so beautiful.  Of course, it’s not as though the world would come to an end if two snowflakes were identical, it’s simply a question of probability.  Probability says that it is so unlikely that two snowflakes could form in exactly the same way that it is a virtual impossibility.  And this is a good thing.  One, because it gives people a clever little explanation for the existence of God and for his divine plan and two because it keeps the cloud physicists busy, much to the delight of cloud physicists and everyone else.  The only problem is that it is simply not true.  Complete baloney as a matter of fact.

Sure, God exists.  No one is disputing that, not even God, although there was a scare there for a little while.  The thing is, who ever said that God follows probabilities?  Would anyone call a triceratops probable?  Was the Exodus probable?  Was the artist formerly known as Prince probable?  Of course not.  It would be far less interesting and, incidentally, far more work to make everything strictly probable.  Indeed, the man who stands up during panel discussions at cloud physicist conventions, shakes his fist and says:

“The snowflakes are all the same you stupid idiots.  You’re just not looking hard enough,” is much closer to arriving at the truth, though perhaps much farther from being invited home by a beautiful woman, than virtually anyone else in the room. On any given snowy night, reach your hand out and allow a single snowflake to fall on your palm.  At that moment, rest assured that in the sky across the globe are hundreds, even thousands of completely identical snowflakes suffering from a total absence of dissimilarity.

Given that snowflakes can be alike, certainly one might suppose that other things, as yet believed to be unique, might turn out to be the same as well.  And one would be very clever for doing so, because the expression ‘there is nothing new under the sun’ actually applies to any sun anywhere in the universe.  Why would it be necessary to create a completely new city on any planet when there is already a perfect template in a Paris, a London, a Boise?  Yes, all of these cities can be found, in different incarnations, in thousands of places across the galaxy.  Bologna, a marvelous Italian city, is another good example.  In fact, there are over two hundred Bologna’s within the Milky Way alone and it would be a disappointment to any human from the Bologna on Earth that the Gelato there doesn’t even rate in the top 50.

With no better ideas and no clue how long Paroophoron was going to be gone, Jude and Flower, who were now stranded by themselves in a rather familiar, yet alien city, decided to go downtown.

Dr. Silver had been working on new admissions for three hours when Albert Avery came for him.  He hated the impromptu visits from his supervisor that seemed to happen on a daily basis.

“Don’t worry about this stuff,” he said ushering Silver away from his stack of paperwork.  “One of the other residents will make sure that everyone gets seen.  We have real medicine to do.”

Silver did not like the sound of that in the slightest but, before long, Dr. Avery was lumbering down a hallway in the bowels of Massachusetts General with his resident in tow two steps behind.  Silver had never been this way before.  Arriving at a large, unfriendly door marked ‘authorized entry only’, Avery tapped his access card on the electronic lock and pushed his way in.  The two doctors entered a huge, cold, brightly lit room lined by several metallic tables. Silver started to get nervous.

“You remember that cute little old lady you admitted last Wednesday…you said she reminded you of your grandmother?”

“Yeah, Mrs. James, I thought I might bring her some cookies later today.  Why?” replied Silver hesitantly.

Avery put his arm around Silver and led him to the far side of the room. There, Avery grabbed onto a plastic tarp laying on one of the tables and pulled it off, exposing Mrs. James’ pale, lifeless body from which medical wiring and equipment of all sorts still protruded.  Avery smiled.

“Oh, come on!” said Silver in horror.

“All right, settle down,” said Avery.  “We’d better get going on the autopsy if we want to be done in time for lunch rounds.  Grab the electric saw over there.”  Avery pointed to a workbench by the wall that was strewn with bits of bone and slimy entrails.  “I want you to cut open her skull after I do my inspection.”

“For goodness sakes,” Silver said throwing his arms up.  “The pathologists have technicians to do this kind of thing.”

“Technicians?  I never let them near my patients,” said Avery as he pulled a now-useless ECG lead off of Mrs. James’ chest and made a note on his clipboard.

“Well what about the actual pathologists?  Isn’t this their job?”

“Silver,” said Avery.  “Who do you think you’re talking to?  I teach the pathologists.  Besides, this is the best way to learn.  She’s a cirrhotic right?”

Silver nodded.

“Well then here is your chance to see a real fibrosed liver with splenomegaly secondary to portal hypertension.  As an intern, you should be giddy with excitement over this kind of thing.  This abdomen,” Avery said patting the woman’s belly in a way that Silver found highly disrespectful, “is going to teach you a hell of a lot…and if you keep me in a good mood, I’ll even let you get first dibs on looking for hepatocellular carcinoma when we get that liver under the microscope.  Now let’s get cracking!”

After a good long walk, the two humans arrived at the heart of what appeared, at least to Jude, to be the city he knew as Bologna.  Of course, he quickly worked out that it wasn’t quite the same city he remembered when everyone they passed on the way were tiny green aliens like Paroophoron.  Still, the aliens didn’t seem fazed by their presence, so Jude and Flower were doing their best not to let it bother them.

“Jude? Are you still positive that this is Bologna?” asked Flower.

“Yep, never been more sure of anything,” said Jude as they emerged into the Piazza Maggiore, the city’s grand square.

“Well how can that be?” she said pouting again.

“I don’t know, but I got us here didn’t I?  We just came from up by the San Luca.  It’s a beautiful church.  Maybe I can take you there later.”

Jude actually seemed to be enjoying himself.

“I don’t want to go to the San Luca.  I want to go home,” Flower said unhappily.  “And how do you know so much about Bologna, if that is where we really are, anyway?”

“Oh, that’s easy.  It has one of the greatest universities in Europe.  I spent three months here on exchange from Oxford.”

He was leading her up the stairs of a towering building which, on Earth, sat at the north side of the square.

“Let’s go in here.  This is the San Petronio church; it’s the second largest in Italy next to St. Peter’s in the Vatican.  I wonder what they use it for here.”

Reluctantly Flower followed him in.  On entering, Jude was surprised to find the walls of the building completely bare with none of the beautiful frescos to which he was accustomed.  In fact, the whole place was barren except for approximately one hundred tiny oval saucers sitting on the floor.  Each one was occupied by a single Adnexian who had an unyielding look of focus and determination on his or her face.  For a moment, there was silence.  Then a solemn tone filled the hall.  It became louder and louder and as the sound overwhelmed the room, the saucers lifted into the air.  After no more than a minute, the noise had reached a crescendo.  Then, suddenly, the spacecrafts streaked wildly, smashing into each other, sending smoke, metal shards and bodies in all directions.  Flower and Jude ran out of the building.  Once outside, Flower did her best to brush a clump of spaceship grease off of her blouse.

“Alien bumper cars, huh?” said Jude.

“If it’s all right with you, I wouldn’t mind staying outdoors for the rest of our visit,” said Flower unamused.

Jude nodded.  Looking across from the San Petronio, they saw a café which seemed slightly more inviting.  The two humans walked towards it across the raised stones in the centre of the square.

“I’ll try to get us something to drink.  You can wait outside if you like,” said Jude.

“Are you joking?” replied Flower.  “I’m not leaving you for a second.”  She grasped his arm.  “Besides, at least that place looks harmless.”

The pair entered the café and saw a single tiny green alien standing behind the bar wiping a glass with a towel.  Jude wasn’t quite sure what say, but before he had the chance to think, the alien spoke.  It took Jude a moment to register, but he was certain that the words the alien had just beeped to him were: “Prego, signore?”

The hell with it, thought Jude, why not give it a shot?

“Due caffè, per favore,” he said to the barman holding out the three coins Paroophoron had given him.

“Va bene, due caffè subito,” responded the alien who took two of the coins and threw them into a nearby cash register.

The alien disappeared below the bar for a moment and surfaced with two shot glasses, two saucers, two coffee cups and two spoons.  Reaching behind him, he grabbed a bottle of what appeared to be mineral water and filled the shot glasses before busying himself making the coffee.  Flower was dumbfounded.  Jude shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time that night.  The three stood in silence for a time as the coffee was being prepared.  Jude found the silence uncomfortable.

“Come vanno le cose?”

He decided to make conversation by asking the barman ‘how are things?’.

The alien turned, gestured with one hand and spoke quickly.

“Beh… niente di nuovo sotto il sole.  I politici sono tutti corrotti, i prezzi sono alle stelle, gli stipendi fanno schifo.”

Jude chuckled.

“Eh già,” he replied.

“What’s he saying?” Flower tugged at his arm.  “What are you telling him?  I’m not enjoying this.”

“It’s ok Flower,” Jude replied patting her on the arm.  “He’s just complaining that they don’t pay him enough and that the politicians around here are corrupt.  I just said I’ve been there.”

Looking at Flower’s expression, Jude decided not to continue his conversation with the alien.  A minute later, the two humans emerged from the café.  Sitting on the patio, they sipped at their coffees under the light of two moons.

The primitive sand-hut dwelling lexicographers of Terzia VII define a language as 'something used by people from places'.  As it happens, they define a lot of things using this phrase.  Certainly, few would claim that the Terzian dictionary makers were blessed with an extraordinary aptitude for getting a thought across, though their gift for honesty is evident in their definition of eloquence: 'something that we don't have'.  Still, what their description of ‘a language’ lacks in sophistication is made up for by its real insight.  A person's language is inexorably linked with the place he or she comes from.  Could you imagine the people of Nepal speaking German, the folks in Sweden carrying on light banter in Spanish, Cantonese in Albuquerque?  Language is about environment, about smells, sounds and experiences, period.  So Jude and Flower should not have been surprised to hear their bartender speaking in Italian.  His place of birth destined him to speak that language in some form or another as with all of the Bolognese who live anywhere in the galaxy.

Body language is another matter entirely.  There is something about the way we move that is intuitively understood by everyone.  Human scientists believe in four attractive forces that govern the cosmos.  They are known as strong, weak, electromagnetic and gravitational.  There is, however, a fifth and final force more powerful than any of the others and, no, it has nothing to do with women and footwear.  It is the force that binds people and body language.  So when Paroophoron quietly landed his spaceship in the Piazza Maggiore and approached the human couple sitting outside the café, he immediately knew that something was wrong.

Flower was a mess.  For several hours, she had sat, seemingly content, at the café in the Piazza Maggiore.  Then, without warning, she began to sob uncontrollably.  Jude’s efforts to console her had been utterly fruitless.  Somehow, Flower was still radiant, but her mascara now trickled in every direction on her face which, itself, was obscured by wisps of blond hair that she periodically pushed to the side so that she could dab at her eyes with a napkin from the alien café.  At last, after a very long time, she appeared to calm down slightly.

“I’m sorry Jude…I’m just so exhausted.”

Flower sniffled and looked at her wrist watch.  The time read five past two o’clock in the afternoon on Monday.  In sheer defiance of this incontrovertible fact, or so Flower felt, the moons of Adnexia continued to shine as they had hours ago, though somehow the square had become considerably dimmer.

“I haven’t slept in thirty hours.  I haven’t had a bath.  I had to watch, helpless, through that awful spaceship ride.  I just…I don’t know.”

Flower shook her head despondently.  It was true that life in Boston was boring at times and that Flower could be restless.  She always imagined a more adventurous future and this would have certainly qualified if not for her apparently imminent demise.  She had no desire to spend her final hours stranded on this strange world.  At that moment Paroophoron, who had been watching the couple for several minutes, took the opportunity to assert himself.

“Hello again,” he beeped disarmingly.  “The party is finally over.  May I have that please?”