by Ryan Notch
It was a miracle he could communicate with it at all. Their information exchange was based on the universality of mathematics. Yet despite the importance of his understanding of the math, he couldn’t discount the effect of playing the sounds of the data sets. The “dark music” as he was coming to think of it. It seemed as if it were creating changes in the very structure of his brain.
As incredible as the possibility sounded to him, he reminded himself that it wasn’t really that far fetched. All learning, even learning a new song, changes the structure of one’s brain. That’s was learning was. It was like the total immersion camps for learning a new language. The more you heard it, the more your brain changed to better hear it.
This seemed like something more though. The dark music seemed to be altering his brain in such a way to make him more like the Dark God. Or at least more accessible to it. There was no question that this music was the bridge that let him communicate with the creature. Knowing the math to the degree he did helped him process what he saw, but the music let him see it. The speakers vibrating the air around him based on the mathematical form of the Dark God itself, he often mused that it was like being inside It.
It was all so exciting, so amazing. No one would believe the things he was learning, certainly no one would believe he was actually communicating with a creature who was beyond the stars through his dreams. He certainly would have called someone crazy if they had said such a thing to him only a few months ago.
Which was exactly what had been bothering Collin lately. He was beginning to question his data, question his own mind. Thinking logically, was it more reasonable to assume he had made contact with a Dark Matter God, or that he had simply gone insane?
It would hardly be without precedent. The percentage of mathematicians and logicians who went insane was several times higher than the general population. Some of the most famous ones in history had gone insane. Georg Cantor, Kurt Godel, John Nash whom they’d made the movie A Beautiful Mind about. There was just something about the work that tended to push the mind in directions it wasn’t meant to go. Or maybe it was about seeing too much of the truth.
Collin had to admit he had been under more stress than ever before in his life. Being in love with Noel had wrecked him, he knew that. Even before the work, he’d begun to wonder about his thoughts and actions. He needed some sort of confirmation, and seeing a psychiatrist was out of the question. Their assumption would be a forgone conclusion, not at all scientific. There was no blood test for psychosis.
What he needed was a control group. Someone he could expose to the dark music who didn’t know the math. And who wasn’t on the verge of insanity already.
He’d thought on it quite a bit. An early idea was to broadcast it over the internet, as an internet radio station. But getting people to listen, then tracking the listeners would be near impossible. He needed something local. So his second idea was to blast the music loud enough to be heard through the walls. Of course then he had the problem of complaints to the landlord.
Then it had occurred to him that they didn’t need to exactly hear it, just be exposed to it. He could raise the frequency of the music to the point where people couldn’t hear it, like a dog whistle. But it would still vibrate the eardrums, still deliver the math into their brains.
And since they didn’t need to hear it, he already had a way to broadcast it to them. Him and Alex had actually come up with it several months ago for a prank. It had to do with the apartment intercom system. Its purpose was to talk to people at the front door and buzz them in. But Alex had somehow figured out that the conduits were setup in such a way that the wires for each apartment’s unit passed behind the unit for the apartment below and above them. Alex had used it to try and talk directly to the musician living below him. An activity that had proved so much more annoying than fun that he had soon returned the wiring to normal.
Once Collin had his own intercom open, the wiring was so simple that he only needed strip the right one then wrap speaker wire around it. Configuring the 4-D sound program to up the frequency took a lot longer, but all told it was less than a day to put the whole experiment in action.
The subjects, chosen purely by their apartment positions, would be a man named Seth and, interestingly, Artesia Rowe. Any ideas about the morality of experimenting on human subjects completely failed to enter his mind, except for right before he flipped the switch to broadcast it. At that moment he wondered why it hadn’t entered his mind.
He didn’t see any possible harm in it, at worst nothing would happen and at best they would be able to see the things he could see. But even if he could think of some way it would harm them, he guessed he would go ahead with it anyway. For whatever reason it didn’t bother him a bit. The only thing that bothered him was the idea he might somehow get caught. Artesia, despite being breathtakingly beautiful, was about as smart as a potato. But Seth he didn’t know much about except that his immediate neighbors seemed to be generally afraid of him. He certainly looked like a man who could do some damage.
Still, the chances of getting caught were small. And it was important to make sacrifices for science. After all, the potential benefits to all of them were great. Even the dark sounds helped Seth and Artesia half as much as they helped him, they’d be tremendously grateful.
And if it worked and he had his proof that the Dark God was real, then he could start the second phase. Finding a way for the Dark God to interact with the world directly. That way It could find who It was looking for with Its own resources. A bit like throwing that hammerhead shark in the same tank as the fish and letting it home in on that heartbeat.
Whether the Dark God wanted to destroy the person or otherwise, he was only to happy to help it. To serve it.
After all, the Dark God had offered to help him with Noel in the most wonderful way. Finally, the perfect solution to the impossible equation would be given to him. And he really did have to have it no matter what. He loved her so much.
He thought about her as he prepared to activate the experiment and send the signal through the intercoms. He wondered idly if he would have been as willing to do the same experiment on Noel.
No, he thought as he threw the switch to start the broadcast. I guess I wouldn’t.
Chapter 22
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Amity and Trinity
Amity sat watching her roommate Trinity do her homework. With the sun shining in through the Brownstone’s sliding doors onto Trinity’s golden hair, she looked just like an angel. Amity often found herself staring at her roommate without meaning too. Sometimes Trinity caught her, though she wouldn’t get mad. She would just smile at Amity. And Amity would smile back, thinking about how sweet Trinity was.
Amity met Trinity at church. Amity hadn’t been going very long, but Trinity had been going all her life. Trinity helped her learn about the church. Trinity was always helping people. She even went to other countries sometimes on missions to help people. Amity had never met anyone like her, didn’t even know people did things like that.
They became good friends and Amity ended up transferring to Trinity’s college. After that it just made sense for them to move in together to save rent. Amity told herself it was so Trinity could help keep her away from bad influences, like a lot of the other people in the building. Trinity didn’t do drugs and didn’t spend much time with people that did. She’d never been with a boy, she was saving herself for marriage.
Amity had been with boys, though she didn’t tell Trinity. Trinity would understand, but she still didn’t want to tell her. Not about how she would get high on meth or whatever was handy and let them do what they wanted. It never felt like she thought it would though. No matter what things she tried, she always ended up feeling empty. Which was why she tried to go to church. And it worked, God filled up the empty part inside her.
Or that’s what she tried to tell herself. Sometimes she wondered if it was Trinity who was the one who filled her with love. Lately she’
d been thinking about it a lot. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. How beautiful and sweet and good Trinity was. Sometimes at night she would crawl into bed with her, sharing her warmth. Trinity had told her it was OK if she slept with her when she had nightmares. Trinity had said it was just like a sleepover.
And Amity was having lots of nightmares. Nightmares about a darkness sifting down onto the world. A darkness that made a sound like the emptiness inside her, always threatening to swallow her up. But when she slept with Trinity, cuddled up with her and breathing her in, her dreams would be different. The darkness would be stopped by a light from a cross.
And when she looked close at the cross, it wasn’t Jesus on it. It was Trinity.
And Amity would wake up thinking about things in a new way, seeing things in all new ways. The darkness couldn’t touch Trinity. She was made of light. People like her shouldn’t be on Earth, they were angels.
Someone like Trinity should be on a cross, so they can shine their true light and stop the darkness.
Yes, thought Amity as she starred at Trinity, her heart bursting with love. There’s definitely going to have to be a crucifixion.
Dick and James
Dick hadn’t been gay before he moved in with James. At least he was pretty sure he hadn’t. They worked together and Dick had needed a roommate at the Brownstone. He knew James was gay but didn’t mind it, so they moved in together. James was never gay in a pushy way, more like a vulnerable way. James always seemed worried he was going to be persecuted for it, and so didn’t tell people and people weren’t rude enough to ask. But just the same, everyone knew.
Dick found himself being pretty protective of James, which grew to a sort of affection. Which lead to drunken experimentation one night, something which Dick found himself surprisingly un-regretful about the next day.
He found being with a man was better than being with a women in a lot of ways. For one it was the first time he’d ever been with anyone to match his sex drive. They’d have sex, then take a shower to clean off, but the shower was so fun they’d have sex in there, and then afterwards with both so squeaky clean they’d do it again.
And not just the sex. They had lots in common he’d never had in common with a women. They’d watch football games together, play video games, go see Brad Pitt action movies (whom they both agreed they’d have sex with given the chance). Soon they spent all their time together. They acted alike, finished each other’s sentences. Even thought alike.
They didn’t tell people they were together, but Dick thought maybe they figured it out. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but when they were alone it didn’t matter. They were so close, but lately Dick had been thinking he wanted them to be closer. He’d been having strange dreams he couldn’t remember, but when he woke he always wanted to pull James closer. Sometimes he squeezed him so tight he accidentally hurt him, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to be inside him, a part of him. To breathe together and feel together. He was in love, but it was more than that. He wanted them to share a flesh.
Which had to be possible. He knew there was a way to make it all right if he could just think of it. He felt like something in his dreams was telling him the way, if only he could remember them.
Yes, he thought as he looked upon his boyfriend James, who lay sleeping naked beside him. There’s definitely got to be a way for us to be together. Got to pay attention to my dreams.
Sam and Shayna Byrd
Sam and Shayna Byrd were talking about how stupid some people were to buy into the Democratic party’s bullshit. She was explaining about how only people who couldn’t think for themselves would buy into a political opinion just because Saturday Night Live and the other liberal media made fun of the Republicans. Sam couldn’t help but agree.
He wanted to agree. When he had first met her he really hadn’t had a political opinion either way. But being married to her, it was just so much easier to agree with her on things like this. She was so sure, and he wanted to be sure to. Wanted to know he was right, and so always checked with her. Always watched her to see what she was thinking. She did the same, it was how their marriage worked so well.
But still, it made him nervous. It was a tightrope act, always guessing at what she liked. Lately he was getting more and more anxious about it. He’d dream that she was saying things in a dark language he couldn’t understand. And the less he understood her, the less in sync they could be. It would be the end of them, such a delicate balance.
He wished he could see though her eyes. He wished it a lot. Sometimes had the silly thought of taking them right out of her head and looking through the back of them, like Descartes had done with the fox to learn how vision worked. He knew lots of things like that, but was afraid to talk about them. She didn’t like that kind of talk.
Still, he thought with a silly grin. I’d sure like to see things like she does.
Jeannie and Billy
Jeannie sat staring at her Billy, who stared back at her. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Probably was sick, the poor baby. She was sick, too. Hadn’t been sleeping well. Had dreams of something in the apartment, of spiders trying to get at her little boy. She’d try and hold him up high, but they were already on him. They would climb from him to her, making a strange humming noise.
Having a baby could be a real pain. It was a lot of work and Sesame Street was certainly not as much fun as a night at the clubs. Still, she loved him so much. She’d never let anything happen to him. She’d try and be a good mother, even if she wasn’t cut out for it.
But lately she was so tired. Couldn’t think, was having a hard time taking care of him. He even looked a little sickly. She’d have to do something soon, something to make him all better.
Just a touch of the flu, she thought as she stared at Billy. And Billy stared back at her.
Chapter 23
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Seth lay in a very very hot, very very tiny space, staring at his hands.
Legs pulled up tight against his chest, sweat soaking into the wallpaper next to his head, he occasionally drifted off to a sleep of jumbled dreams. Flowing no smoother than mismatched puzzle pieces smashed together with a hammer.
They were brief as well, every few minutes he awoke slapping at his arm or leg, watching them for the dark spots. Every itch, every tingle caused by a drop of sweat, awoke him in a panic. A fear that they had come to chew him up piece by piece, despite his hiding place.
The things, the bugs, were very tiny. You couldn’t even see them unless they were moving, and even with a magnifying glass they still looked like nothing more than black dots.
They’d first arrived just after what happened with the pigeons. The pigeons themselves had set up a nest on the ledge outside Seth’s bedroom window above the courtyard, back when he still slept in the bedroom. Seth, like most people in the city, didn’t consider pigeons proper birds but rather a kind of flying vermin. In his words to a co-worker, he was all set to “toss that nest right into the fucking street.”
Then his daughter had spotted the nest. Since the divorce he only saw her once a week. Each visit it seemed he knew her less. Grew further from her; had less to talk to her about. She was seven years old, and a perfect ball of sunshine. But her mom had re-married and she was becoming more a part of her new family - and less Seth’s daughter. Seth wasn’t invited to her birthday parties, her Christmases. In fact Seth couldn’t even come near her step-father Steve, because of the restraining order. One day Seth had decided to, as he explained it to the police, “bust the fucker’s mouth just to hear him stop talking.” At 5’9” and 220 pounds of muscle, Seth was a brute of a man. The kind of man police never gave the benefit of the doubt to after a fight. His violence against “step-father” had been less a result of any one specific dispute than the fact that, despite being a quiet and introverted person, Seth was not a peaceful man.
Except with his daughter. And so when she had said how much she liked the pigeons and couldn’t wait to come
back next week to see if they had had babies, Seth really had no choice but to leave them be. At least they weren’t that loud.
But they were dirty. Seth couldn’t believe how disgustingly dirty the things were. They shit where they ate, they shit where they lived, the nest they lived in was more shit than sticks. Seth thought the fuckers must be as hardy as rats to keep from getting sick.
They had another trait in common with vermin as well-they bred fast. Within only a few days there were two eggs in the nest.
“They always have two eggs dad,” said his daughter, looking excitedly at the nest through her too big glasses. He was surprised to find out she’d been reading about them. “They always have two babies, a boy and a girl.”
The next day they hatched, and Seth couldn’t wait until his daughter came next so she could see the chicks, which despite being pigeons were almost cute. He tried to get his ex-wife to let her come over early, but the bitch wouldn’t give an inch more than the law made her. Seth thought that if he died tomorrow, she’d do everything she could to make sure his daughter forgot him. Still, he tried not to get angry. When he got angry he did things he regretted, or at least things people told him he was supposed to regret. Besides, the chicks would still be there in a week.
Which didn’t turn out to be exactly true. By the time his daughter came over a week later the chicks were already half way grown. Seth was taken off guard by how fast the things grew. No wonder they were all over the city. The disappointment in his daughters eyes at having missed their cutest stage really upset him, even though she put on a brave face and said they were still pretty cute. She even named them and drew a picture of them to put on Seth’s fridge.
Over the next week without her Seth only glanced at them once or twice, beginning to think that they might be the least beautiful of all of God’s creatures. When next his daughter came and they looked out together she asked the question he was already thinking.
