by William Hawk
William closed his eyes. Fuchsia. Then he opened his eyes. “Everybody got it?”
They nodded.
“Okay, on the count of three. One, two, and . . . ”
“Fuchsia,” said the other four simultaneously.
Proof sat down in his chair. “Well, this changes everything.”
“Are we in trouble?” said Grace.
“No, not at all,” replied Proof. He stroked his chin. “I’m going to have to talk to the Ancient Engineer.” Then he clapped his hands on his thighs. “Okay everybody, that’s all for today.”
“Aren’t you going to use the spectrometer?” asked Grace.
“No, that’s for beginners,” he said, “and I think you’re all past that stage. But as usual, what do we know about the Ancient Engineer?”
In unison, the group said, “He loves us, and he wants us to succeed.”
Proof snapped his fingers, and the lights dimmed. “We’ll reconvene later.”
The team stood up. William caught Hunter by the shoulder and whirled him around. “That’s the last time I try to help you,” he said.
Hunter sneered and turned away.
CHAPTER 19
HAT NIGHT, AS SHANA’S VOICE CAME over the overhead intercom, William set down his copy of the Bhagavad-Gita on his chest.
This was alarming.
She’d used the system only once before, when there was an infrastructure malfunction in the galley and she needed to warn everyone to stay away. In truth, there really wasn’t much need for an intercom, since, with only five team members, she could easily knock on the doors of their rooms. So Shana’s taking to the intercom was something special indeed.
Her voice began: “Team members, please note that we’re hosting a special meeting in the debriefing room in thirty minutes. Your presence is mandatory. Again, special meeting in the debriefing room in thirty minutes.”
The intercom clicked off. William lay on his bed, the reading lamp perched over his shoulder, for a minute longer. Then he rolled off walked across the room toward his bathroom. It was plain, but well equipped. William looked at his face in the mirror. He inspected the skin beneath his eyes, then turned his face from side to side.
What did his team think of him? What kind of person did they think he was?
He always tried to do unto others, as the saying went. He understood that his role in the universe was to help other people improve theirs. To scratch one another’s back. But maybe he’d gotten the order wrong. Was it possible there were people who viewed life in a totally different manner? Who viewed other humans as obstacles to happiness? Or, even worse, as threats to be extinguished?
William washed his face and brushed his teeth and combed his hair. Then he picked out a new shirt. They’d all been issued standard clothing upon arrival, five shirts and five pants, but William kept one pair in reserve. He believed that special moments deserved special outfits.
He reached into his bureau and pulled out that one outfit, a navy blue T-shirt with gray dungarees.
A half hour later he arrived at the debriefing room. The others were already there, waiting, a harsh atmosphere in the room.
“You guys look like you’re going to your own executions,” he said.
“This can’t be good, bro,” said Jeremy, biting a fingernail. “I mean, she used the intercom.”
Trina giggled a little, but Grace turned on her. “Take this seriously. We’re all worried.”
William thought that Grace was overreacting to the issue. He turned to Hunter. “Hunter, are you worried about this meeting?”
“Nope,” said Hunter. “I just keep telling myself that the Ancient Engineer loves us and wants us to succeed.” There was a hint of mockery in his voice.
Jeremy re-entered the conversation. “Guys, the worst thing that happens is that we go back to Menoram and forget that any of this ever happened. Maybe that’s what the announcement is about.”
“And another hundred cycles of lives before we get selected again,” added Trina.
Footsteps sounded behind them. They turned their heads to see Proof enter the room. He wore a determined look on his face, and William thought he detected a bit of a smile.
“It looks like they’re all here,” he said. “How wonderful.”
“As requested, sir,” said Hunter, snapping into a salute. He did it with such malice that everybody was taken aback.
Proof studied him, but didn’t take the bait. “Thank you, Hunter.” The coach went to the front of the room, settled into his seat, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was a gesture of exhaustion.
“What’s this about, Proof?” asked Grace.
“As you know.” Proof began.
That put William’s antenna up. Nobody begins a nice meeting by saying, “As you know.” That is usually what people say just before they fire an employee.
“You have been scheduled, and pursued, a long list of daily tag-alongs in the pursuit of CA3 designation. Right? That has been the agreement?”
The five team members nodded.
“Well, there’s been a slight modification to the plans,” he said, “by the order of the Ancient Engineer.”
A hush settled over the room while the team waited for the other shoe to drop. Proof’s eyes scanned all of them as though he were trying to peer into their souls.
Finally, Trina broke the silence. “Well? What is it?”
Proof held up three fingers. “You have only three more tag-alongs to advance to CA3 status.”
The silence returned, blanketing the room. Jeremy covered his eyes. Hunter stretched out his arms and legs like a cat awakening from a nap. Trina looked like all the blood had drained out of her face. Grace didn’t move.
William, meanwhile, grew curious about the mechanism for the advancement. He raised his hand. “Proof, you guys haven’t been exactly clear with us about the advancement. How do we know when we’ve reached it?”
“The algorithms,” came the coach’s reply. “The Ancient Engineer has meticulously laid out the process of spiritual advancement in a system. It works.”
“But how?” asked Jeremy. “We don’t know the system, or the algorithms. How do we know when we’ve qualified?”
The others agreed, their voices rising. Proof hushed them. “The best I can tell you is that you will know it when it happens.”
“Can you give us a clue?” said Trina.
“We’re just flying blind otherwise,” added Jeremy. “Also, some of us are more advanced than others.” He looked around. “Come on, guys, we’re all thinking it.”
Next to him, Trina nodded. The two of them, she and Jeremy, had been dragging for quite a while, the caboose of the team, and everybody knew it.
Proof thought about the request. “Okay, here’s my advice, make your own decisions. Be yourselves.”
“That’s it?” asked William.
“It’s exactly that simple,” said Proof, “and exactly that hard. Let me explain with a metaphor. You know how sometimes you hear a musician who makes totally amazing songs? That person’s art is unique, and nobody else in the world does it like that?”
All five members of the team nodded.
“That person is self-actualized. It’s the only way to succeed. Just be yourselves, and make decisions that are true to your higher calling.”
“While we’re being other people,” said Hunter, smirking.
It was a good point, and Proof turned to him, finger on chin. “Ironically, Hunter, we learn to be ourselves by immersing in other people’s experiences for a short period of time. That’s what stories are all about, really. Learning about other people’s decisions to help your own.”
Proof turned back to the others. “So, on tomorrow’s snap, I want you to focus on doing what I just described. Really try to feel how your host makes decisions. Keep the chatter to a minimum. You know what I mean.”
Everyone grinned. They knew they’d talked a lot in the last snap, maybe too much.
“As usua
l, what do we know about the Ancient Engineer?” said Proof.
“He loves us, and he wants us to succeed,” the group said wearily. As William left the room, he wasn’t so sure that was true.
After all, three snaps didn’t feel like much time. And now the pressure was on.
CHAPTER 20
ILLIAM,” SAID SHANA’S VOICE.
He jerked up in his seat. William had settled himself in the team’s small auditorium and was staring at the moving pictures on the wall. It was not unlike a cinema, except the flickering images on the walls were part of the parallax. Specifically, these were dreams that people were having, in different eras, in different cultures all over the world. Watching them was like working for extra credit. William and the others were encouraged to spend time here, in the continuing effort to see the world from others’ points of view.
“What?” he said. He turned around and saw Shana in the doorway. “Oh, hey.”
“Are you busy?” she asked.
He gestured at the parallax. “Define busy.”
“Proof wants to talk to you.”
He put an index finger on his sternum. “Me? Now?”
Shana smiled. “In his private office. Come on.” She held the door of the room open, waiting for him.
William felt a cold sweat break out across his body. He knew he broke a rule by influencing his host in the last snap, and that he had admitted to it. He could only imagine what type of punishment Proof might be cooking up for him. Maybe he’d be sent back to the big Jacuzzi of souls to spend another quality millennium in his spirit chamber. Maybe he’d been relegated, dropped down a level, down to CA1. Or maybe he’d be denied entry to CA3, along with the entire team. He shuddered at the thought.
“All right,” he said.
William followed Shana out of the auditorium and through the corridors. They arrived at Proof’s gate. It was marine blue, and a small ball of light pulsed in a slow circumference around the aperture, like a guard marching the perimeter. Nobody on the team had been allowed through it. Ever since they arrived here, William and the rest of the team had been wondering aloud about what lay beyond the gate.
Nearby was a small desk, like a receptionist’s. Shana seated herself on the chair at the desk, typed a couple of words onto a screen, and then reached over and waved her hand in front of the aperture. It dissolved, and the entire door jamb was framed by a thin line of light. Shana gestured for him to step through.
“Is it safe?” asked William.
“It’s weird to see you asking a dumb question,” she said. “You’re not in trouble. Proof asked you to come. So go on, get inside!”
Taking a deep breath, William passed through the aperture. It closed behind him. He took another step forward and felt everything fall away. He whirled around. Shana wasn’t there. The desk wasn’t there. Even the doorway was gone. William looked down at his arms. They weren’t there either. There was nothing here except the emptiness of space and time.
“William,” said a voice.
It was a familiar voice being communicated telepathically.
“Proof?” William replied. He didn’t know how he was forming words, since he no longer had a mouth, tongue or throat.
“Don’t move.”
William froze. A small green light moved toward him across the nothingness. It arrived in the shape of Proof.
“Are you alone?”
“Who else would I have brought?”
A spotlight beamed out of Proof’s eyes and roved across his body. “You’re not shaking yet. That means you’re handling it okay. But if you start to vibrate, I have to send you back.”
“Okay,” said William.
Proof swept a hand around the vast void. “Welcome to my humble abode. A pleasure to show somebody what I see.”
“I thought you were mad at me.”
“For what?”
“Spying on you. Interfering with a host during a snap. I haven’t been the best team member.”
He heard Proof emit what sounded like a sigh. “Interfering with a host is natural, William. During my experiences, I did it too. Mostly it’s a sign that you’re getting ready to advance.”
“I can feel it,” said William.
“It’s very clear to the Ancient Engineer.”
That surprised him. “He’s been watching us?”
“Sometimes. We talk about who is making the most progress, who has outstanding potential. I told him that you’re one of them. So is Grace.”
William felt reassured. Around him rotated a constellation of stars. “So, why did you want to talk to me?”
Proof didn’t answer right away, so William waited. He could hear a low throbbing, almost out of the range of hearing. It sounded like a distant electronica concert.
Proof finally replied. “Do you have experience with evil?”
“No, I can’t say so.”
“Look at this and tell me what you see.”
A long parallax, much like a mural, began to pass before William. It showed humans in various stages of aggression and anger. A contorted face, mouth open in a baboon-like pucker. A fist crushing into a chest. A man squeezing the trigger on a pistol. Explosions. Angry shouts.
“Tell me what you see.”
William struggled to find something incisive to say. “I don’t know. These people seem to be angry, but they don’t seem evil.”
The image disappeared, and Proof appeared once more. “That’s very astute, William. Angry people aren’t evil. They’ve just been hurt or damaged.”
“So then why did you ask me about evil?” said William.
“Watch.”
Another long parallax appeared before William. He saw people walking, talking, laughing. Playing with children in parks. Laboring in fields. Typing at computers.
Proof explained: “Those people have all submitted themselves, and their souls, to something larger than themselves. They are pursuing transformation from self to selflessness. They may not look like it, but they are very spiritual creatures.”
Then the image changed. William found himself looking at a panoply of faces, some smug, some projecting happiness, some trying to be glamorous, some totally inscrutable. A photo of an infamous dictator flashed past. An artist. A movie star. A business tycoon.
“On the other hand,” said Proof, “all of these people are evil.”
“But they look normal too.” said William.
“And now maybe you understand what the banality of evil is.”
William had never heard that word before.
“What’s banality?” asked William.
“Ordinariness,” said Proof.
“They do look ordinary,” said William.
“Evil is a master of disguise. It pretends to be many things. Evil pretends to love. It pretends to help. It pretends to tell the truth. But it does none of those things. All it can do is mimic, distort and mock.”
William watched the parallax playing out, studying the faces. He truly couldn’t see anything evil about them, no unusual deformities, no jug ears, no scars, no Neanderthal brows. He thought about the people who boast that they can look into a person’s eyes and determine moral character. That was impossible, since evil people hide in plain daylight.
“Fortunately, there is a way to identify evil,” said Proof.
“How?”
“Look for the lies.”
The faces on the parallax began to speak, their lips moving in ways small and large. Some with fierce hand gestures. Some defiant. Some ignoring criticisms.
“All those people are lying?” asked William.
“Nearly every minute of their lives. They don’t even know that they’re doing it. They’re lost in their own matrix of deception. And we get lost in this matrix too, a labyrinth of never-ending deception. Then they look to impose their own lies upon other people.”
He paused. “Does the Ancient Engineer know that evil is in the system?”
“Of course.”
William watch
ed the images flash past, one person after another. He imagined the lies coming out of their mouths.
“Can I ask another question?” William said.
“Of course.”
“If the Ancient Engineer knows that evil is in the system, why doesn’t he get rid of it?”
The entity known as Proof paused the parallax and turned his presence toward William. The two beings were facing one another in the void.
“He allows it to continue because of free will,” said Proof.
William thought about that but hit a wall.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said.
“The universe is in a violent struggle,” explained Proof. “If humanity moves forward, it must be because it has overcome the force dragging it backward.”
William started to feel strange vibrations in his nonexistent body, as though the molecules of which he was composed were resisting this new environment. He ignored them and pressed on, hoping Proof wouldn’t notice.
“So we have to move toward selflessness, not selfishness,” said William.
Proof responded, “Lack of reflection. Plato called it the unexamined life.”
William was finally able to put the Change Agent system into a bigger context.
“And my team is part of this grand effort?” he asked.
“Your team,” said Proof, “is an attempt to advance all of humanity. Those who become CA3s have a powerful ripple effect. One spiritually advanced person can lead millions of people to the same spiritual advancement.”
“So why are you telling me this?” asked William.
“Because every coin has two sides. One evil person can create the same ripple effect, but for the worse,” said Proof.
The long parallax winked on again. The screen showed scenes of mobs, violence, bizarre dictators, parents beating children, howling faces.
“That’s how millions of people lose their humanity. All it takes is one evil person in a position of power,” said Proof.
As William watched the images, he felt the vibrations growing stronger. His vision, or whatever it was here, started to shake. The constellation became blurry. He looked back to Proof.
