The Space Between Her Thoughts (The Space in Time Book 1)

by Marie Curuchet

  “My God, how did you create this? Did you do this?”

  “No, well, I was thinking of him and was in watching something else and I thought, I wish Roger would show up, because you know he never has been in here with us, and I was thinking about what he must have been like before his head got hurt, and here he is!”

  Margot approached the image cautiously, as she beheld the specter of the man. Roger, his head held back, almost falling backwards, had his eyes fixated on the sky, his mouth agape. He was standing at the top of a large burning shape. She traced the outline with her eyes in the form of a perfect W. She noticed how neatly the wood and shrubs had been stacked and saw the large saw that Roger had apparently used to cut the brush.

  “More,” she commanded, and the room widened and expanded outwards, providing a view of fifty meters in every direction. They were on top of a knoll in a clearing within a densely wooded area. One side sloped down sharply, but it was too dark to see where it went. The light from the fire filled the clearing. “This clearing must be, I don’t know, a hundred feet wide, wouldn’t you say, Sergio?”

  Sergio didn’t answer.

  Margot turned to see Sergio at the back of Roger, standing behind him almost hidden. She noticed that as she walked a few paces closer, Roger was moving his mouth, rapidly, as if he were talking. “Roger doesn’t talk like that, not in sentences!” she blurted.

  Two dark eyes peered out from behind Roger. “But Margot, Margot,” he motioned to her, “look at this!” He held out his hand and stepped forward to pull Margot to Roger’s back side. “Look. Look!”

  Margot’s eyes followed Sergio’s arm up the short length to his hand.

  Grimy fingernails. How can this kid get grimy fingernails when there’s no real dirt to play in?

  Her eyes continued up the back of Roger’s head, and then up to the sky where Roger was looking. “I see it,” Margot said in surprise. “A star?”

  “Star?” Sergio questioned and jumped up to touch Roger’s head. “Not the star! Look here.”

  “Here?” Margot stopped staring at the bright object in the sky and stepped back to take a better look. “Serge, crap, there’s hair and a, a head. I mean, well, you know, a full head!”

  “I know! I know! Do you think it’s a mistake?”

  “Got me.”

  “Maybe we should get Roger and show him.”

  “Oh, come on, he wouldn’t know. He probably can’t remember anything, given his brain capacity.” Margot moved closer and peered around Roger’s head. At that moment, he began to walk towards one of the ends of the arms of the large burning “W”, and Margot could now clearly see at that angle the complete, oblong head of Roger.

  “I don’t know,” she said, rubbing her chin. “The Wall must have made a mistake. It must be filling in some pieces. You know, Vada, I mean Ralph, he said events are not always recorded perfectly, so the Wall fills in some. But it clearly gave him a big, full head.”

  “I wonder what he’s saying.”

  “I don’t know, Serge, given where he was from, maybe it’s something in French or Spanish. Can you tell?”

  “But there’s no sound.”

  “We can ask the Wall to translate.”

  “Right, let’s do it. Wall,” she commanded, “please fill in the words. Translate to English and replay this.”

  “Sorry, Margot, the Wall cannot comply. This was recorded from some distance,” the Wall’s resonant voice replied, booming from all around them.

  Margot frowned. “Are you telling me you didn’t record Spanish or French?”

  “The extrapolations of Roger’s lip movements indicate that it is not a language that the Das recorded while on earth. As indicated previously, he likely spoke a local dialect of Basque. Multiple factors hamper interpretation. His lips move very little, this was recorded at a distance, and the difficulty interpreting is likely compounded by an unrecorded variant of the language.”

  “Crap. This Basque thing again? And it’s not French or Spanish?”

  “Not that the Wall can determine,” the Wall replied.

  Sergio pulled on Margot’s sleeve. “Let’s go get Roger and show him!”

  “No,” Margot snapped. “What could he tell us? His head is half-gone.”

  “Well, he could tell us what this is about.”

  Margot watched as Roger peered down to the ground, pointed to the odd fire, and looked once again up to the sky. She noticed the collar of his shirt bend down as his long head crushed it against the back of his neck. Roger pulled a large black beret from his pants pocket and placed it carefully on his head.

  Better move away from this fire, Roger, or your whole head will catch fire. You are balding in the back. Jesus, this fire is looking a little out of control now. Looks like the wind just picked up.

  “Margot,” Sergio yelled, “look up, the star’s a ship!”

  She peered up into the sky and saw a bright light moving rapidly down, growing larger in the sky. It appeared to have broken off from the other light, which remained shining in the night sky. Margot had seen enough instances of Das landings from the Viewing room to know the procedures they employed in picking up objects from a planet’s surface, and also how they recorded the events as they occurred.

  Suddenly, the event abruptly ended. The Viewing room resumed its normal, brownish tinge, and the sandpaper walls were once again present.

  “Doesn’t make sense,” she said, staring blankly at the Wall. “I thought he was injured long before they picked him up. Wall, did you record anything else?”

  “No,” the Wall responded.

  “Something must be wrong,” responded Sergio, somewhat unconcerned.

  “I’d sure like to know what he was saying.”

  “Yeah, so would I.” Margot took a deep breath. “Weirdest thing to see somebody’s head when you’re so used to seeing them without much of one.”

  “I think we should bring Roger in to see.

  “What if he sees his head and remembers what it was like? I mean, how would he feel?” she asked.

  Just then, Margot got an idea. “Wall, can you do this for me? Can you play this scene exactly as it occurred from the ship? Without any fill-ins or extrapolations?”

  “The Wall can do that, but what you see is largely extrapolations based on infrared. Visible light was minimal and the enhanced recording mechanisms were not operating.”

  “So is it worth seeing? I mean, if it was only infrared?”

  “You can decide,” the Wall responded.

  “Forget it then, it was just a thought. I just don’t understand why you don’t record everything sometimes!”

  “If you recall, the Wall has attempted to explain to you that physical limitations do exist in the recording of events, those limitations include available light and energy emanating from the event and . . ..”

  “Oh, just shut up!” she demanded.

  “Margot,” Sergio said, “you always talk so mean to the Wall.”

  “Forget it,” she countered, rolling her eyes.

  “You do, you know. Vada said the Wall knows so much that it is basically alive in some sense. You should treat it nicely.”

  “I don’t see it having a naturally-created birth if that’s what you mean. It’s some protoplasmic, mineral-based gunk that makes everything work around here. I don’t care if it knows more than me. That doesn’t make it my equal, nor does it make it smarter or better.”

  Sergio pouted. “My mom always said to give things the benefit of your kindness.”

  “Okay, okay,” she muttered. “We watch way too much of this stuff. It’s worse than television. Much worse. It’s so entrancing. Especially all the things we’ve seen. And if I ever catch you watching some of those naked women shows again!”

  “I can’t help it,” Sergio replied sheepishly. “They recorded most of the TV and movies. It’s not much different than what I used to watch at home.”

  “Sure, like videos with women’s naked bodies. Sergio, I
am so ashamed of you! If you want to see something from earth, you should watch cartoons or something.”

  “I watched a bunch of cartoons before you woke up from your coma. I guess I just got bored with them, and nobody seemed to care what I watched so I just started watching other things.”

  “Sergio!” Margot sighed. “Outta here!” she said, softly kicking his rear end towards the door. “Hey, I think I’m going to see the astronomer today and talk with him. Do you want to come?”

  “Okay! But now you’ve got me thinking about watching the movies.”

  “Sergio, you stinker. You are not doing that! You’re going to come with me instead, so stay here. I have to get you away from this Viewing room and your movies. You’re too immersed in this stuff, and it’s not healthy.” She thought of how she’d preach to Joey to occasionally lift his eyes from his cellphone, that the device was not his life, that much of the content he consumed was questionable, created to addict him and get him to buy or get emotional about something and control him, that he actually should take the time to talk and otherwise interrelate to people. Yet he was learning so much.

  ‘Polymathing’ he’d say. ‘Livin’ the dream. Multitasking is reality. Why talk if I can text more efficiently?’

  Margot took a long look in the mirror then walked to her bathroom sink and turned on the water. She shrugged.

  All the modern conveniences of home. I wonder if my sense of humor has come back, or if it ever will. I went through this phase at first, this crazy phase. Exuberance. My God, I’m the only one left. I’m omnipotent. No death. Never. Of course, that was barring some freak accident like getting crushed by a meteor, or who knows what could occur if I ever left the confines of the Wall. Not all things can be done with genetic twists, as Rovada said. But the enormity and expansiveness of immortality, it had me. It was like an incredible, consistent surge of energy in my gut. It seemed to propel my every step as soon as the reality of its meaning hit me. But at least it became my focus, at least it helped me to forget about my loss. My huge loss. My horrible loss. To forget the pictures of the dried and bloated carcasses. Waves of flies feeding on the stench and waste.

  My temporary elation. I am limitless. I may live a billion years, or ten billion. What are the risks? And the Wall would answer ‘a likelihood of three in six billion’ that I would not live until the end of the universe, whenever that might come. I could be there at the end, or close to the end, and there during all times up to that point. I could travel to so many worlds. And I can have everything. This porcelain sink is exactly the sink that was at my apartment.

  It was all the Wall, whatever that was. It didn’t matter. The Wall had become her friend, in a way. It brought her memories, and everything that she could remember the Wall would willingly resurrect. Margot shook her head.

  Don’t think about it. No Geoff, though, no Geoff. No parents. No Joey. I can’t bear to bring them back. No friends, either, no Facebook. But the Wall did make my car. The smell of the leather seats was close to real, in fact, the Wall said it could make many things beyond itself, that it would recreate the molecules since it knew leather’s molecules. That it would build-in the same imperfections in the grain. Why then didn’t it seem real? Was it something about the rest of the car? The Wall said the rest was true to specifications. Now, why and where would the Wall have gotten the specifications for my Subie? Why couldn’t it get all of the desert plants, the smell of the desert dirt and creosote, the blue of the sky, a full desert moon? Can I possibly live the rest of my life, an eternity, and not know the touch of my desert? Can I ever return there? What is it like? When will it be okay to go back? Do I wait a million years or a billion? Will I want to go back when it’s time? Will I still be alive then? I mean, there’s always a chance something could happen to me between now and then, especially not knowing when ‘then’ is. Would I not care? Will I not care about anything after I have seen everything? Can my brain withstand all that I have seen of other worlds already? Why was I one of the few, in the billions on earth, to live? And not just live, but live forever? Is this heaven? Are these horrible smelling Das actually my angels? Do I have to live this way forever? Will the Wall always be with me as a constant necessity? What happens when I get bored? What happens when all the entertainment and possibility of whatever the Wall can provide finally ends?

  Stop, Margot! Stop yourself! Rovada calls this ‘chain thinking.’ It is my mind going through this endless path of possibilities. A common problem for beings adjusting to the life of immortality. So many paths to take in virtually endless time. Probably the hardest problem to overcome. All possibilities. All time to do them in. Which to choose first? God, it was so very easy before, knowing there would be an end. The paths were limited on earth. Known, like the next tick of the clock. Finite opportunities. You were forced to hurry to get things done in your life. There was one planet. I had seen enough on cable. Too much about humans on cable. Humans and their incapacity to plan for the long-term, to be seated in their theme park ride of daily emotional triggers and reactions. To avoid the effort of thinking. Knowing all horrors of people, seeing it all on the rectangle, the incessant blast from the rectangle. I didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world but my desert. Hell, in the whole universe there was no better place to be. But my desert was so quickly disappearing. Greed. And there was such violence on that planet. A lot of bad people. No morality. Just had to learn to be cautious. Most people did not have their wits about them. At least so many seemed to be crazy, always on the edge, or rude and inconsiderate, which is a kind of craziness. And then the masses of the world, they continued to overpopulate themselves. They continued to recreate their own misery for their children. Didn’t they get what they deserved? I mean, they could choose not to have kids, couldn’t they? Had they ever heard of abstinence?

  “Margot?” she heard Sergio's voice from outside her bathroom.

  Pulled from her train of thought, Margot answered, “Hold on a minute, I’ll be right there.”

  “Are you still looking at your fat?”

  Margot shrugged. “If I had some mountains to climb, then none of this would be here. It’s just that my diet hasn’t adjusted to the lack of activities on this stinking rock.”

  “I’ve heard you say that one before, Gordita.”

  “And don’t call me that name!” she demanded as she picked up a comb and lobbed it at the boy who raised his hands to block the oncoming object.

  “You should do the tai chi with us.”

  “Why?”

  “It will help your weight.”

  “Around here I can be as fat as I please. So who cares?”

  “Yeah, but maybe the Wall will get tired of adjusting the gravity around you. Maybe you’ll get too heavy for it and it will cave-in or something. Then all of the air will be let out and we’ll all die,” Sergio chided.

  “Maybe little boys should learn to speak to their elders with more respect.”

  “And maybe you should stop eating those Napoleons you have at every meal.”

  “I don’t eat them at every meal. I’m just down to three a day now!”

  “You know, Margot, the Das recorded most of the world’s foods. There are other things you can eat. I couldn’t even get you to eat that Vietnamese stuff, lemongrass, last night, you are so stuck on what you eat.”

  “Lemons and grass don’t sound like a good mix to me. Besides, Vietnamese food never even sounded that tasty. I pretty much always stuck to American food – and Mex. And aren’t you the one to talk,” she said, raising her eyebrow. “You are always eating burritos. You eat them like they are going out of style, or like the Wall will forget how to make beans. I’m just glad that the beans are adjusted for their sugars, otherwise, you’d smell worse than Rovada!”

  Sergio, embarrassed at this pun, turned in half anger. “Forget it, I’ll leave if you’re not going to be nice. Now I can see why Penny doesn’t like you.”

  “She doesn’t like me because she’s a woman an
d I’m a woman and she’s got some rivalry against me. Probably thinks I’m going to take her fabulous brother away from her. Like I’m really attracted to him, or something.”

  “He is really strong and nice.”

  “Like I’d be attracted. Funny, I guess I can say ‘I wouldn’t date him if he was the last guy on earth’, because he is!”

  “Hey, I’m a guy too!”

  “You’re a boy, not a guy.”

  “Geez,” said Sergio, shaking his head. “Let’s get going. I want to do something today. Something different. I’m kind of tired of the Viewing room, too. Did you say we could see Fishda today?”

  “Sure. Not that he can tell us anything more than the Wall could. But who knows?”

  Margot and Sergio walked toward the Wall, and the door melted in their path. After three months, she was well-aware of the door locations in this large cavern the Wall created. She knew the entire length and width, and she had seen nearly every room and alcove. She also knew that she couldn’t get out, not to the surface of the planet, at least not without the protection of the Wall. She had viewed much of the planet, looking for life on the surface, knowing that there was none, thinking that the Wall could be wrong. But the atmosphere was a combination of noxious gases, like most planets that even had atmospheres, and most life in the universe could simply not survive on this rock. She was angry that the Das didn’t pick a more hospitable or interesting planet, but the ones that had any life at all were apparently so distant, so far apart from each other.

  God, I am now longing to leave these confines, even if it means traveling in their ships, the Wall, suspended at times for decades, just to be in a more interesting place than this! A planet where the surface is hospitable. More like my earth. Away from these brown walls. Away from walls that can be whatever I want them to be. No risk, no life in that.

  “C’mon, Margot, let’s see if he’s in!”

  “And where could he go if he’s not in? I mean, aside from his own Viewing room or their horrible feeding chamber. It still gives me the willies to see them eat.”