Profusion

by Stan C. Smith

  Quentin pocketed his copy of the talisman. “We’re ready to go if you are.” He then helped Lindsey adjust her pack to better fit her shoulders. Samuel kicked over the temporary shelter and scattered the sago fronds, leaving little evidence that the spot had been occupied for three days.

  Just as they started hiking south, a movement in a tree above caught Quentin’s eye. It was a tree kangaroo.

  “Is that Mbaiso?” he asked.

  Samuel looked up. “The mbolop you call Mbaiso was otherwise occupied. This is another I recruited to accompany us and help with collecting food. If you wish to call it by a specific name, you will have to create one, as I have never been inclined to do such things.”

  Four

  Bobby’s head hurt, especially behind his ears. He wanted to touch his scalp and feel for a wound, but his arms were restrained. And so were his legs. It seemed like hours since the man with red glasses had left the room, and Bobby hadn’t been allowed to get up. The three doctors—or whatever they were—continued working with their computers, talking to each other about technical stuff and occasionally asking Bobby to do things that didn’t make sense. To speak a certain word, for example, or to think about something that made him mad. Every time he tried to say something they hadn’t asked him to say, he would black out. Then he would wake up, and the process would continue. He was scared, and it was taking all his willpower to hold back tears.

  Now he had to pee and take a crap, and if they didn’t let him up soon he would have to do both right here on the bed.

  Finally, the windowless metal door opened, and the man with red glasses stepped in. He asked the others how things were going, and they all answered by nodding. He gazed into Bobby’s eyes.

  “I would like to speak to this young man,” he said.

  One of the doctors typed something on his keyboard and then said, “Go ahead, sir.”

  Bobby felt a sharp pulse behind both his ears.

  The man said, “How are you feeling?” When Bobby didn’t answer, he said, “You may speak freely now.”

  Still, Bobby was afraid to speak. He cleared his throat, but nothing happened. “Where am I?”

  “You are in a research facility. A rather remarkable one, actually. My name is Hugo Helmich. You can call me Dr. Helmich. Or just Hugo, if you prefer.” He spoke like he was an enthusiastic tour guide.

  “Where’s Hattie?”

  “We know her real name is Ashley. No need to pretend.”

  “Where is she? And where are Peter and Robert?”

  Helmich smiled. “They are here. Ashley and Peter are perfectly fine. Robert, unfortunately, is recovering from a gunshot wound. We have hopes that he will recover fully.” He pushed his glasses further up on his nose and smiled again.

  Bobby closed his eyes and swallowed. He couldn’t wait any longer. “I have to go to the bathroom. Right now.”

  “I am not surprised,” Helmich said. He began undoing the restraints on Bobby’s legs and nodded to the woman doctor. She got up and left the room. She came back in immediately, pulling behind her a strange toilet on wheels. She shut the door and parked the toilet next to the wall. Helmich finished releasing Bobby’s legs and started on his arm restraints.

  “The floor here is very hard,” Helmich said, with a look of real concern on his face. “If you do something unexpected, you will of course be rendered unconscious, resulting in a head injury when you fall. That would not be good for you or for us.” He finished the last strap, stepped back, and held one hand out toward the toilet.

  Bobby stared at it. “You expect me to go in front of all of you? I have to take a crap.”

  Helmich didn’t move. “Do you like films, Bobby? Motion pictures, I mean. Movies.”

  Bobby frowned at him. The question made no sense, and he had to go so bad it hurt.

  Helmich lowered his hand. “Hollow Man, with Kevin Bacon. Bacon’s character develops a way to become invisible. An intriguing idea. Even more intriguing, he finds that he is willing to do many things while invisible that he would never have done otherwise. Interesting concept, don’t you think?”

  Again Bobby just frowned at him.

  “I suggest you imagine yourself to be invisible,” Helmich said.

  Bobby wasn’t happy with this response, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He got out of the bed and then wobbled on his feet for a moment. He realized for the first time that he was wearing a green shirt and pants, just like those the doctors were wearing. The only things he had on that were actually his were his shoes. He walked to the toilet and turned around. All four of them were watching him. Probably at least one of them was ready to press a button that would knock him out. He closed his eyes, pulled his green elastic pants to his knees, sat on the mobile toilet, and did what he had to do.

  As soon as he stood up, the woman wheeled the toilet out of the room and shut the door with a clang.

  Helmich said, “Perhaps you would like to stand for a bit, stretch your legs. You have something important to do today. Need to be in tiptop condition.”

  Bobby paced the floor. His head still hurt, so he rubbed his scalp. Both sides of his head were shaved bald around his ears. He moved his hands backward. Behind each ear was something solid. They were small boxes, a few inches across, made of hard plastic or metal. He pulled on one of them. It wouldn’t budge. It was actually attached to his skull. He pulled harder, and this made him wince from the pain.

  “What are these?” he said. His voice cracked a little, and again he fought to hold back tears.

  Helmich spoke calmly. “Wireless receivers, solid state lithium-ion batteries, neurostimulators, implanted electrodes.” He shook his head. “You don’t really want details, do you?”

  “I can’t pull them off. Why won’t they come off?”

  “They’re well-anchored. But you could certainly hurt yourself if you try too hard. Again, that would not be good for you or for us.”

  Bobby looked at his hands. His trembling fingers now had blood on the tips. “I want to go home now.”

  Helmich approached him and put a hand on his shoulder. “And we would like to send you home, Bobby. But first we have some very important things to do. Will you help us out so you can go home?”

  Bobby looked at him. He wanted to believe him. But there was nothing about this situation that suggested he would ever be allowed to leave this place.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well, you can begin by telling me exactly what you would say if you were to ask your friend, the Lamotelokhai, to do something for you.”

  ∞

  Bobby was back in the bed, his arms and legs secured. For at least an hour Helmich had told him to explain again and again how he would ask the Lamotelokhai to do different things. It wasn’t like there was a trick to it. Bobby would just ask, and the Lamotelokhai would do what he asked. But asking it to do things was dangerous, which he had tried explaining to Helmich. Bobby had asked the Lamotelokhai to do something to help them at the hospital in Jayapura, and it had created rampaging dinosaurs that killed at least seven people. And that was just one example. Helmich had seemed fascinated by these stories, but Bobby doubted he really understood. No one did.

  Finally, Helmich had stopped asking questions. Now he sat next to the bed, reviewing the video he had taken of Bobby’s answers. He had just heard Bobby say these things, and now he was watching it all again. Bobby couldn’t imagine his answers were that interesting.

  The door burst open, startling them both. A woman Bobby hadn’t seen before stepped in and said, “We’re ready just outside, sir.” She then retreated.

  Helmich went to one of the other doctors and whispered to him. The man nodded and started typing on his keyboard.

  Helmich came back to Bobby’s side. “I’m afraid we need to ask you to not speak for a little while again. And you know how that works, don’t you?”

  Bobby felt a pulse behind his ears as the devices on his head were switched back on. He nodded to Helmich
, afraid to make any sound with his mouth.

  “We would like to reunite you with your friends. So that you will know we are taking good care of them. Does that sound nice to you?”

  Bobby nodded.

  The woman came back into the room, this time pulling a rolling bed. Lying in the bed was Robert. Bobby hardly recognized him because his neck and one side of his face were covered with bandages. He seemed to be barely conscious, his eyes half open.

  The woman waited for a moment, then left the room and came back pulling another bed. Peter was sitting up on the bed. He looked around the room, and his eyes met Bobby’s.

  “Good Lord, what have they done to you?” He pulled at his restraints, but they held him to the bed. He turned to Helmich. “You wanking idiot! You have no idea what you’re doing. If you think my people don’t know where we are, you’re delusional. They’re probably on their way now.”

  Helmich ignored this. He looked at the doctor he’d whispered to. The doctor nodded.

  The woman parked Peter’s bed beside Robert’s. She left and returned with a third bed. Sitting on this one was Ashley, her eyes wide with fear. When she saw Bobby her fear transformed into rage.

  “You assholes, who do you think you are?” She yanked at her restraints. She then let out a fierce, piercing scream.

  Even Helmich seemed startled by this. He looked at her with his mouth open.

  “She’s the one,” the doctor at the computer said.

  Helmich eyed him. “You’re sure?”

  The doctor glanced at Ashley, who was now glaring at them. “It’s not even close.”

  Robert was then wheeled out of the room, and the woman returned and began wheeling Peter’s bed out.

  As he passed through the door, Peter cried out, “Bobby, try to hold it together. We’ll get out of here, and they’ll pay—”

  The door slammed, cutting him off.

  Helmich gazed at the closed door. “That is an optimistic man.” He turned back around. “But honestly, if you folks simply cooperate, you will have nothing to fear.” He looked at Ashley. “Ashley Stoddard. It seems you are the winner. Bobby’s cognitive activity indicates he is very emotional when you are near him. Did you know that?”

  “My name is Hattie Grayson,” she said. “That’s Wyatt. He’s my brother. You’ve kidnapped the wrong people. Don’t you feds ever get anything right?”

  “Feds.” Helmich said this like he was thinking about what it meant. He smiled. “Do you like films, Ashley? Motion pictures?”

  She glared at him without answering.

  He went on. “Consider Tarzan films. Do you know what Jane’s purpose is in every Tarzan film that has been produced?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Jane is there because Tarzan loves her. He will always endeavor to rescue her. Perhaps Margot Robbie’s Jane in The Legend of Tarzan stated it best: ‘An ordinary man will do impossible things to save the woman he loves.’”

  Ashley’s glare began to give way, and Bobby knew she was afraid.

  “Your name is not Hattie,” Helmich said. “We all know who you are, Ashley. But perhaps we should call you Jane.”

  Helmich waved his hand at the doctors, and one of them carried some kind of headset over to Ashley’s bed. The other two doctors followed him. When he tried to put the device on Ashley’s head, she pulled away. The other two then held her still. She squirmed and cried out. She even spat at them.

  Bobby instinctively pulled at his restraints. Everything went black.

  He opened his eyes. The device was now on Ashley’s head. The woman doctor was wiping away a trickle of blood that had run down Ashley’s temple.

  “You’ll be fine,” the woman said. “Just hold still so it won’t tear your skin.”

  “What is this?” Ashley said. The fierceness was gone from her voice. “What are you going to do?”

  The woman patted her shoulder and then returned to her computer.

  Bobby’s eyes met Ashley’s. She was terrified, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even speak to her.

  Helmich moved a stool to the side of Bobby’s bed and sat. “Time may be of the essence. We will begin immediately. Bobby, I am an advocate of showing, rather than explaining. Very soon you will know exactly what it is that we need you to do.” He held up a digital tablet. “Based upon what you have told us, these words represent what you would say to the Lamotelokhai in order to request something. Please say these words aloud, exactly as they are written.”

  Bobby looked from Helmich to Ashley and back. He had no choice, so he read the words.

  “Addison, I need your help. Please just do what I ask, okay? I will explain later. I need for you to divide yourself into ten smaller but equal portions. Can you do that?”

  Helmich smiled at him. “Very good.” He put the tablet down so Bobby couldn’t see it. “Now, please say it again.”

  Bobby brought up a perfect image of the tablet and repeated every word.

  Helmich blinked at him. “Impressive short-term memory. Well, let’s take a different approach. Repeat the sentences again, but change one or more of the words.”

  Bobby didn’t like where this was going. “Addison, I don’t need—”

  Everything went black.

  Bobby awoke to the sound of crying. It was Ashley. She was sobbing and trembling.

  “You assholes!” she cried. “That hurt!”

  Bobby was enraged. “You f—”

  His world turned black.

  This time he awoke to desperate screaming.

  “Stop! Stop it, please!” Ashley’s back was arched and she was thrashing her head back and forth, trying to dislodge the headset.

  Bobby wanted to break his restraints and trash everything in the room. He wanted to kill Helmich and the other doctors. But he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t speak. Instead, all he could do was stare at Helmich, his gut wrenching tight and his heart beating so hard he felt it in his ears.

  Helmich leaned closer to Bobby. He spoke over Ashley’s cries. “Quite astounding, isn’t it? It’s all automated. A fraction of a second after you say or do anything we have not asked you to…” He nodded toward Ashley.

  Bobby felt cool streaks on his burning cheek as his tears began to evaporate. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Helmich’s smirking face.

  “Now that you understand,” Helmich said, “it is time to move on from learning to doing.”

  Five

  Quentin helped Samuel fasten the last sago fronds to the frame of their crude shelter by tying them with stringy fibers of sapling bark that Sinanie called khol. An afternoon rain had already drenched them, so the shelter’s purpose at this point would simply be to prevent rain from pelting them as they slept.

  In spite of having bodies enhanced by alien technology, Quentin and Lindsey were worn out from the first day of hiking. Quentin let out a groan as he folded himself into the shelter and sat next to her. She was holding two grapefruit-sized stuff sacks and handed one to him.

  “I’m not inflating both of them,” she said.

  Quentin opened his sack and pulled out a tightly-rolled sleeping mat. Judging by its paper-thin fabric and negligible weight, it was a top-of-the-line product. At one end, surrounding a one-way valve, was a thickened pad that served as a hand pump. Following Lindsey’s lead, he twisted open the valve and started pumping.

  Samuel and Sinanie tucked themselves into the shelter. Sinanie glanced briefly at the slowly-expanding mats and then turned his attention to a raw spot on one of his feet. Samuel, on the other hand, seemed fascinated by the inflating mats.

  “We’re not as accustomed to sleeping on the ground as you two are,” Quentin said. “Unfortunately, we only have two of these,”

  Samuel caressed the shimmering green material. “That is remarkable. There was a time long ago in which simple comforts were much more important to me. I fear that I have gradually descended into a rather savage state.”

  Quentin noticed Sinanie shoving some leaves
into his mouth. After chewing them briefly, he pulled the wad of pulp from his mouth and spread it over the abrasion on the side of his foot. Quentin felt a pang of guilt. If he hadn’t taken the Lamotelokhai from the village, Sinanie could have simply spread some of its clay on his wound, and it would have healed in a few hours.

  “The indigenes have reverted to many of their old healing practices,” Samuel said, apparently perceiving what was on Quentin’s mind. “They are generally healthy, however they no longer have the means to heal deadly wounds, or to restore to life their companions who have recently died. If warriors from another tribe were to attack the village, the results could be grievous. Only thirteen of them remain at this time.”

  Lindsey said, “My god, only thirteen?”

  Quentin stared at Sinanie and felt cold inside. Addison had killed half of Sinanie’s tribe. Quentin had to remind himself that during the last eight months the Lamotelokhai had provided humanity with effective cures to several devastating diseases, including AIDS and diabetes. Far more lives had been saved than had been lost.

  “Samuel,” Quentin said, “can you tell Sinanie we are sorry, and we did not mean to do his tribe any harm?”

  Samuel spoke to the Papuan, although he hesitated a number of times as if he did not have full mastery of the language.

  Sinanie finished spreading the chewed leaves on his wound and then blew on it as if helping it to dry. He looked at them and spoke. “Gu finop. N-mom-él nggé khil Lamotelokhai-alingga. Nokhu nggul-lekhé nokhu khokhün nokhu-amo-ba-lé laibo. Õkhu khatakh.”

  Samuel considered Sinanie’s words for a moment. “He says that you, Quentin, are a compassionate man. His uncles and friends, meaning his tribe, are healthy, even without the Lamotelokhai. But they are discontented because they have abandoned their purpose—the purpose for which they were born. And thus they are ashamed.”

  Quentin looked at Lindsey and then at Sinanie. “Their purpose? You mean to hide and protect the Lamotelokhai?”