The Simpleton: An Alien Encounter Page 9

  “That’s basically it. You throw it … he brings it back. For some reason, dogs find it fun. People do too.”

  Tow reached down for the stick but Rufus grabbed it first and ran off.

  “He wants you to chase him,” Cuddy said.

  Tow stood tall and held Cuddy’s stare. “Tell me about you, Cuddy. Tell me how things have been since you were here last.”

  Cuddy figured Tow would ask him something like that, and he had questions too … many questions. He felt bad for how he acted the last time he was here. That he had yelled at Tow. He had been scared and unprepared for his increased mental abilities. He had so many new thoughts now. Thoughts he’d never had before—different kinds. Part of him already missed the old Cuddy, the one that lived a far simpler existence. Living an unquestioning life, for the most part. Perhaps because he knew, on some level, that he wouldn’t understand the explanation anyway. He understood better now, and he remembered things too. Not just events happening now, but also those in his past … as if all the broken wiring in his head had magically reconnected. But his new access to old thoughts and memories had come with some humiliation and embarrassment. Not knowing for sure if his mental disability was now a thing of the past, he only knew he never wanted people to look at him the old way again. With either annoyance or tolerance or, worst of all, pity. He’d come today for a reason, so it was important to say what needed to be said.

  “I’m glad you are still here, Tow, and that you hadn’t left in your spaceship.”

  Tow nodded at that, seeming to find it humorous, for some reason. Cuddy continued, “I want to thank you. I don’t know exactly what you did, or how you did it, using that chamber thing, but you’ve given me a different life. A life I didn’t know I even wanted.”

  “Is it a life you want now, Cuddy, or have I pushed you into some sort of new existence that was never meant to be yours? Does my question even make sense to you?” Tow asked.

  Rufus was back, again dropping the stick at Tow’s feet. Cuddy watched as the stick slowly rose into the air—all the way up to eye-level—then remained midair for several seconds before flying off. It was as if an invisible hand had tossed it into the trees. Rufus chased after it.

  Cuddy could hardly believe what he’d just seen. He knew the alien was an amazing being, but this … “How did you do that, Tow?”

  “The Pashier … have the ability to move matter with their minds. For two thousand years, my people—the Pashier—had continued to manipulate what is called our genome code, by enhancing a once-thought useless tiny organ, buried deep within the right section … what humans would call the parahippocampal gyrus. The Pashier have a very similar organ found, strangely enough, to influence psychokinetic abilities. What followed were thousands of subtle tweaks—over millennia—by the Kartinals. Revered—they were more like Gods than scientists to the Pashier.”

  Cuddy could see the sadness on the alien’s face. “What happened to them?”

  “The last of the Kartinals are gone. Massacred many years ago … but their essences were added to the heritage pod. At least, that is something.”

  “Well … maybe you can you teach me to move things with my mind, too?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think your physiology would support …” he cut himself short. “We’ll see, Cuddy. But now back to my question. Do you feel I have gone too far … repairing your disability?”

  Cuddy could see that the question was important to Tow by the concern on his face. That he was having second thoughts—some doubt. “You have done a good thing, Tow, I promise. A really … really … good thing.” Cuddy smiled and Tow smiled back.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course, Cuddy, anything.”

  Cuddy looked up at the colorful sky. “Does what’s happening up in the sky have anything to do with you?”

  Chapter 16

  “Indirectly, yes, Cuddy,” Tow said, gazing up at the beautiful spectacle above the treetops. “I did not come here alone. I was pursued by three other spacecraft. By other aliens.”

  “Do they look like you … or maybe like me?”

  “Neither. They are larger and covered with fur … like Rufus over there. And they are not friendly. In fact, they want to destroy the Evermore, me, and what lies within the lower deck of the ship.”

  “How come?”

  “Their beliefs are complicated, Cuddy. For them, there is no room for both the Pashier and the Howsh to exist together in the universe. To exist anywhere.”

  “That is what they are called … the Howsh?”

  “Yes, that is right.”

  “Then we should figure out a way to strike them first.”

  “That is not our way, Cuddy. It’s not the way of the Pashier. We are pacifists. Do you know what that means?”

  “No … not really.”

  “It means we do not use violence to resolve issues.”

  Cuddy seemed to consider that, then said, “Well, I’m not a Pashier. I’m a human and I’m pretty sure it’s always been our way to fight back when others are out to hurt us.”

  Tow, for some unknown reason, found that funny. He laughed out loud, and the more he thought about it the funnier it became. There was so much this savage human didn’t know—didn’t understand—but in an off-handed remark he said something fairly profound. Soon the Howsh would no longer be Tow’s problem for he would be dead, like all the other Pashier. That was inevitable, and the Earth humans would be left to deal with the Howsh alone. He wasn’t justified—passing over a particular ethical reference to pacifism, which was a conscious decision made by his people over millennia. One they were willing to adhere to even though it led to their eventual demise. The humans were free to act as they saw fit in their own world.

  Tow, after regaining his composure, said, “I apologize. You said something that struck me as funny.”

  “It’s fun to laugh. I laugh all the time,” Cuddy said, looking at something over and beyond Tow’s shoulder.

  Tow turned to find the AI orb hovering within the open hatchway and his first reaction was immediate irritation. Until then, Tow hadn’t shared the outside world with this hovering artificial intelligence orb, and he didn’t wish to do so now. He didn’t want to corrupt this beautiful place with the cold, calculating machine.

  “Proceed no further, AI. Tell me what you want.”

  Tow listened to the orb’s reply before dismissing it with the wave of a hand and turning his attention back to Cuddy.

  Wide-eyed, Cuddy asked, “Was that a robot?”

  “Of sorts.”

  “I heard you talk to it but I didn’t hear it talk back to you.”

  “Yes … well, that was another ability the Pashier developed over many years. The capability to converse or command non-organic beings by using only our thought … like I just did with that AI orb. Based on Earth’s evolutionary progression, the same ability will probably present itself to humans over the next one hundred years.”

  Cuddy only nodded.

  There was so much for this human to digest in such a short period of time. But Tow did feel less guilty now since Cuddy seemed surprisingly well adjusted to his new, altered state of beingness.

  “Will the Howsh hurt us?”

  “Maybe. I am truly sorry. It is my fault … I led them here.”

  “But when you leave, they’ll follow you. Right?”

  “Cuddy … I am sick. I am dying. I have a terrible disease caused by the Howsh. I may not live long enough to—” Tow stopped speaking, seeing tears stream down Cuddy’s cheeks. He was taken by surprise; causing the human such distress was the last thing he wanted, and guilt over what he had done returned. “I am sorry, Cuddy. I probably shouldn’t have informed you in such a casual manner.”

  Cuddy wiped his runny nose on the back of his sleeve, then lowered down to the dog and wrapped his arms around him. Burying his face in the animal’s fur, he seemed to find comfort there. The sadness of the entire situation became less abstract to
Tow at that moment and he too felt himself become emotional. Placing a comforting hand on Cuddy’s shoulder, he said, “I’m so sorry, Cuddy.”

  Tow watched the dog lick tears off Cuddy’s face and thought about the brief time Cuddy had spent within the wellness chamber. Though some remarkable things had been accomplished, this human, clearly, still had farther to go. Remembering Cuddy’s actual age was nineteen in human chronological terms, Tow surmised he was now, both mentally and emotionally, somewhere around twelve or thirteen years of age, up from age seven.

  The orb roved back into view within the open hatchway and hovering there, said, “The humans have a saying—in for a penny, in for a pound. I suggest the human spend additional time within the wellness chamber.”

  * * *

  Cuddy wanted to bring Rufus into the wellness chamber along with him, relaying the fact that Rufus, too, had recently been injured, but Tow would not allow it. He also said he would not be joining Cuddy this time since there was a limit to the amount of time anyone could undergo such treatment. So now Cuddy sat in the chamber alone.

  Cuddy’s thoughts wandered back to early that morning when, eating breakfast, he’d purposely acted dumb—like how he was before meeting Tow. Why did I do that? He suspected it was because he felt he’d done something wrong. That he was not supposed to be like other people—wasn’t intended to be smart—and wondered if Momma would still love him in the same way. Cuddy’s thoughts then turned to Jackie, who’d spent the night. Momma had put sheets on the family room couch and Kyle gave her a big T-shirt to sleep in. Cuddy didn’t like the way Kyle looked at her. Has he always looked at her that way? He suspected so, but Jackie had ignored Kyle—was looking at him instead with the same narrowing of eyes. Like she was trying to puzzle something out. Jackie was the smartest person he knew—next to Tow.

  Ten minutes into the session, Cuddy was thinking with far more clarity than he could ever remember. He looked about the curved enclosure—the soft surfaces within the sterile chamber—and took in the blinking, multi-colored lights on the control panel that were positioned midway up and to the right of the entrance hatch. Wondering what parameters Tow had set for him to undergo, he then puzzled about the word itself … parameters. How he knew what that word meant. It occurred to him that he’d heard Tow use the word earlier and now Cuddy made the mental correlation that it meant something similar to the word settings.

  He then thought about Tow—that he would be dying soon—and the thought made him sad as he looked across at the three vacant seats within the chamber. Why did Tow bring me into the chamber for a second session? Tow would soon be gone, but he had mentioned something about a mission … about returning some kind of pod to a distant planet. Would this ship then need a new captain or would the hovering robot be sufficient for that? Cuddy didn’t think so. He may not be as smart as Jackie, but it didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Tow was making him smarter for a reason.

  Another five minutes’ time elapsed before the wellness chamber hatch slid open. Tow, standing in the opening, said, “Tell me, Cuddy, how much did you figure out in the last fifteen minutes?” Cuddy saw Rufus, standing at Tow’s side.

  “I think … quite a bit of it.”

  “Are you angry with me?” Tow asked.

  “No … not really. But you’ve made a few assumptions. Namely, that I would agree to help you. That I would risk my life to further your cause … or the cause of the Pashier.”

  “They are one in the same, Cuddy. You, your family, Earth, are now entangled in this drama. Again, I apologize for coming here but one fact still remains … this planet is in grave danger.”

  “I know that.”

  “I want to show you something. Something no one else … no other race of beings in the universe has ever witnessed before. Please … follow me.”

  Cuddy stood and instantly regretted he’d risen so fast. He felt dizzy and somewhat nauseous. Tow put out a steadying hand, and said, “I apologize, I extended your session slightly longer than the recommended timeframe. It may take several hours for your equilibrium to fully adjust.” Equilibrium—another word Cuddy was fairly certain he’d never heard of, or used before, yet he knew its meaning just the same.

  Tow guided him through several lower deck passageways, moving forward toward the bow. With Rufus by his side, Cuddy felt the dog’s warmth press against his leg. They entered what seemed to be a storage hold area. Until then, Cuddy wasn’t aware the flying robot—what Tow referred to as the AI orb—had followed them in.

  Tow said, “AI … open the sub-level hatch.”

  “Captain Tow, the human is not authorized. I am tasked with protecting—”

  “Update your authorization list so that it includes Cuddy. Do so now!”

  The orb went quiet. Cuddy had the distinct feeling the orb did not trust him, and the feeling was mutual. A hidden section of the hold’s deck paneling suddenly descended several inches, then slid to one side. Staring into the blackness below, Cuddy could barely make out the first few steps that led downward.

  Chapter 17

  Tow coughed several times into his hand and, seeming to be in some pain, cleared his throat. Composing himself, he said, “Please respect the space you are about to enter, Cuddy. No loud noises—whisper instead of talking—and you may need to duck your head somewhat; vertically, the ceiling’s height is limited.”

  Tow walked toward the opening, then halted before heading down the stairs. “Cuddy … you may not fully understand yet, but bringing you down here is a great honor. An honor and a responsibility.” Tow continued to descend the stairs until he was out of sight. Cuddy heard him say, “You may bring Rufus along with you.”

  Cuddy hesitated as the AI orb silently hovered around him before it too descended into the blackness below. He looked around the hold area, unsure if proceeding forward would be such a good idea. He had the uncomfortable feeling that this moment in time was somehow important. A crossroads of sorts, and he wondered why him? Why was he, someone who, until a few hours ago, could scarcely read or write, or remember his address or phone number—singled out by this alien called Tow? Surely, there were far more qualified people … like Momma, Kyle, or Jackie, who were smart; far better—

  Cuddy heard Tow’s soft voice emanate up from below. “Please … come down, Cuddy.”

  Cuddy, complying, then proceeded to go down. Halfway down the stairway, he felt a breeze gently buffeting his pant legs. Stepping off the bottom step, he leaned forward, hoping not to bang his head, then slowly stood upright to find about an inch of clearance above him. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The breeze down below was cool and smelled fresh—a scent he’d not encountered before that was pleasing. He wondered why it was kept so dark down there; it would be too easy to walk into a bulkhead, or Tow, or the AI orb, if he wasn’t careful. He held out his hands, slowly moving forward, then noticed his two, barely perceptible, glowing hands. Why are my hands glowing?

  “This way, Cuddy.”

  Cuddy looked to his right, hearing Tow’s voice, and saw the glowing alien gesturing for him to follow. The AI orb was all but invisible—only tiny blinking red and green lights, which gave away its hovering location.

  Down there in utter darkness, Tow’s form looked even more beautiful. What Cuddy thought was strictly a bright, glowing-white iridescent form, instead showed subtle hues of blues, pinks, even green. He looked again at his own outstretched hands. Certainly not quite as bright or vivid, nevertheless, the same pastel hues were also present within him. As the orb moved lower, the breeze picked up and a series of sounds—musical tones—filled the space around them. It was beautiful. He closed his eyes and felt something familiar—the feeling he often got when Momma put her arms around him and hugged him tight. The feeling of being protected—nurtured—that everything would be okay.

  He opened his eyes and gasped. A sparkling white light was spouting upward, like a water fountain, but it was light glistening instead of water. Br
ighter and brighter it became and Cuddy could see the outline, just below the light, of what looked like a plant of some sort. He instinctively knew it was the heritage pod, which Tow had spoken about only days before. It looked like a pod—organic in shape and texture—that was slowly opening up at the top. Large leaves curled backward, one after another, then slowly extended outward to eventually come to rest on the lower deck. Layer after layer, the large leaves unfurled and lay flat. The breeze by now had turned into a steady wind. Tiny sparkling lights encircled them, in between them—more lights than he could ever count in a thousand lifetimes. Cuddy had never witnessed anything so beautiful. Kneeling, he put his arm around Rufus, then placed his other palm on his own chest—wanting to feel his own heartbeat. Certain his heart would soon burst. He was barely able to constrain the myriad of emotions springing forth.

  Cuddy felt Tow’s hand on his shoulder. “We will sit now.” Cuddy and Tow sat down, and with Rufus’s head in his lap, Cuddy looked left and right. And then he saw it: they were sitting within a spiraling galaxy of slow-moving stars within a massive universe. By squinting his eyes he could see more galaxies, even farther beyond. It was an infinity of stars. And—like the iridescent hues he’d seen in both Tow’s and his own glowing forms—the dazzling, colorful brilliance emanated from out there.

  Cuddy was mesmerized. He asked, “Tow … is this heaven? Are you showing me heaven?”

  Tow didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said, “I would like you to meet someone very special to me. Would that be all right with you?”

  Cuddy, not understanding why Tow felt it necessary to ask his permission, replied, “Sure.” A minute or two passed before Cuddy noticed it, and Rufus’s head came up. A faint distant star—one out of millions or billions—was moving in the opposite direction of the others. Slowly it grew in size and intensity as it sped toward them. Cuddy glanced over to Tow and watched the anticipation register on his face. Smiling—childlike—Tow’s eyes glistened with moisture.