7. Plop ‘ik’s Dream
“Seventh son?” a gentle voice was asking me.
“Yes, Third Father?” I answered.
“Do you know why I have brought you to the pyramid?” We stood on the steps of the pyramid that our ancestors had dedicated to Time and Forgetfulness, two of our ancestors’ most revered gods. In the sky, a flock of glowing air-worms floated over our heads toward the coastline. The sun blazed blue and green as it set behind the ocean world that occluded the blackness of space above us. Our primordial homeworld, Igz Nomex.
My First father was one of the first of the Plos, of our people, to come to this moon and begin to build a perfect world. The magnificent blue planet, so much larger than my home moon, served as a pleasant reminder to our people of our roots. Once we swam among the cephalopods and cetaceans, now we build temples and sail out among the stars.
“I do,” I told him. “I am to meet the One God, Elotiel. Commander Kli Truip has selected one from each of the nine moons to commune. I am to bring honor to our people.”
“Yes,” said my Third Father, something of sadness in his voice and in the colors that streamed from the tips of his plolorium. “Plop ‘ik, do you believe that the One God is kind?”
A strange question, yet one never discussed by the missionary commanders who had come to Plos Lodril to tell us of the coming of the Elotiel. “He is all powerful and all knowing,” I said, slightly unsure of how to respond. A warm breeze blew from out of the forested canyon below us, seeming to try and sweep us up the steps of the pyramid toward the temple above but we remained on the lowest stone platform.
“So it is said by Commander Kli Truip, but is the One God kind? Is he good?”
I remembered what the missionary commanders had told us, “He is the everything and the nothing. He is to be obeyed and given tribute. He is the devourer of worlds.”
“So,” said my Third Father. As my teacher he always lead our conversations this way. He asked the questions and invited me to postulate which would lead to more questions.
“I imagine,” I said, now speaking with my own words. “That The One God is too vast for kindness. A being that lives outside of time, one with the ability to grant his followers the powers of the gods, one like this defies conventional judgement.”
“Perhaps, but is there not a universal morality?”
“I...” as a Plos I had been taught to avoid prejudice when it came to other races. We lived on only one of nine moons and we were only one of many intelligent races orbiting the oceanic world of Igz Nomex. Even though our culture believed in the reservation of judgement and empathy and understanding above all things I had always held to the personal belief in what my father now called a universal morality. “I believe there is, Third Father. I empathize with and value all life, but the highest forms of intelligence are love, compassion, and peace.”
“Yes,” he said and blinked his eye. “Yes, Plop ‘ik, I believe you are ready to commune with the One God, and I believe you will have much to teach him.”
His eye gazed into mine, my teacher, my guardian. In that moment I loved him and respected more than anyone else on Plos Lodril. He had tutored me, taught me everything he knew about life and nature, about the gods and all of the aspects of the mind. He had been preparing me for today. Now I would join the Consortium and represent the Plos and our way of life to...
The thoughts faded into muddled rhythms of sounds that made no sense to me. I saw bright white light that stung not one but now my two eyes. Had I been dreaming? But it was so real... All of the details of the dream were gone by the time I came down from the moonmoth wings. When I was fully awake we were on the sea. Without any idea how I got there I struggled to think back on the events prior to blacking out. I remembered pain and fear. I remembered the priest, Norton, who had to be another of Plop ‘ik’s agents. Just like Ana. There was something about a pyramid too, but it was too hard to recall. None of it seemed real. All that felt real was the cold wind sweeping off the water as the boat bounced along.
I was standing on the deck of a small pleasure cruiser, about 30 feet long with a hydrogen powered jet engine, there would be enough power to take us almost anywhere on the west coast of Canada or the Northwest United States. I assumed we hadn’t traveled too far but then again I really had no idea how long I had been traversing the innermost pathways of my own body. I could see nothing from the deck of the ship but the blackness of the night and the stars above my head.
If I had my Omniphone I could use the StarGazer app to pinpoint my location but I think I left it in the goddamn truck. Pooping is going to be so boring now! I thought to myself, realizing just how dependent I was on the little rectangle of glass and microchips. I brushed the thought away and looked for my alien kidnapper.
Plop ‘ik was on the elevated cockpit platform that sat above the cabin which contained a living quarters, a kitchen, and a cubby-like bed. I joined him at the helm and laughed when I saw he was wearing one of those silly orange life-jackets, four sizes too small of course. He looked like the progeny of a one-eyed shipwreck survivor and some kind of phosphorescent octopus.
“Nice life-jacket,” I said, still feeling a little hung over. Strangely my collarbone and ribs both felt fine.
“I cannot swim. Yet I keep my home in the sea. Strange, yes? Humans are not the only creatures capable of being enigmatic,” the alien said and smiled at me with his tubular mouth. At first I found Plop ‘ik’s appearance off-putting, verging on grotesque, but I was starting to see him as soft-natured and polite. I wasn’t sure about his motives, but at least he didn’t freak me out that much anymore.
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“It’s November,” I informed him. “The water’s about forty eight degrees fahrenheit. A life jacket will only help the Coast Guard find your body. Unless you have some kind of magic alien resistance to the cold.” I wasn’t being facetious, I genuinely had no idea what the creature was capable of, or what could kill him, if anything.
“I can exist in a vacuum, but I also sink in water. Hence the flotation device. I am glad you are awake, Isaac. We are only a few minutes away from descent. Have you ever traveled in a submarine?”
“At Disneyland, when I was like ten. So you really have a submarine? Like a nuclear battle sub? Or is it one of those little ones they use to look for giant squids on the Discovery Channel.”
“More the latter. It was designed by a friend of mine. It has limited combat capabilities, but its primary purposes are travel and observation.”
I was still wearing my blood and vomit stained clothes from the two days before. The boat had no clean clothes but there was a brand new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste in the head. There was also a box of stale crackers that I dumped into my mouth greedily. After eating, washing my face, and brushing my teeth I felt a little better but I needed a nap. My body was still trying to recalibrate itself after the moonmoth wing trip and I was as tired as I had been since my twenty-four hour rotations back in Afghanistan. Oh yeah, and I had a broken collar bone from being beaten half to death. I descended the stairs and followed Plop ‘ik onto the deck.
Just as the alien had said, there was a submarine waiting for us by a flashing buoy in the middle of the Gulf of Alaska. It was yellow and only about fifteen feet long. The metal hull was a little rusty, which did not inspire a lot of confidence, but other than that it looked sea worthy. The cockpit was a big glass bubble that allowed the pilot and copilot an almost 360 degree view of the surrounding sea. Atop the bubble was an open hatch. Plop ‘ik pointed to it.
“Shall we go then?” he asked pleasantly.
I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick, and I was right. Between the cramped little submarine -a two seat observation vessel with enough room for both Plop ‘ik, myself, and a gummi worm, maybe two- and the undersea currents that rocked the tiny ship, I was as sick as I had ever been. There is a reason the word sea is in nausea.
It felt like days passed while we sank into the black abyss. I was barely coherent when the sub dipped into some kind of deep-sea cave, just wide enough for Plop ‘ik to carefully navigate. Then a glowing light shone down from above and we emerged in a strange cavern with a long dock. The submarine would need a thorough pressure washing at some point, I thought to myself as we finally disembarked.
We emerged in some kind of underwater grotto or hollow cave in the depths. We were far out to sea and deep underneath the surface but the submarine’s hatch opened and fresh air fill the cabin. Plop ‘ik unbuckled me and I immediately faceplanted into a pile of vomit on the floor of the sub. In all, the trip had been just one more reason for me to hate Plop ‘ik with a passion. I was like a vomit covered rag doll and Plop ‘ik carried me telepathically from the sub to a large circular portal built into the cave. I glared at him, my anger displacing my pain and nausea.
“I am never getting into that thing again, god damn you,” I muttered angrily and glared at the alien. At that moment his cilia, or flagella, or whatever, were standing straight up and absolutely brilliant with pure white light. Does that mean he’s happy or what? Before I could ask him, a round door, at least ten feet high, rolled open to reveal a large room with metal walls, three glass doors, and one bay window that looked out onto some larger area beyond. It was sparse, sterile, and most of all boring. Not at all what I expected upon getting my first glimpse at an alien’s headquarters.
“Welcome to my home, Isaac.” Plop ‘ik said as he helped me through the portal.
“I hate it.” I said grumpily.
“That is unfortunate, though I am pleased to show it to you. I am very proud of the work we have done here and I look forward to continuing that work with you, Isaac.”
“Before we get to that”, I interrupted him, sneering “Do you have a change of clothes? I’m all bloody... and vomitty. And I think I need a doctor.”
“Yes, of course. Please, remove your clothes.” He walked over to the wall behind the and touched a relieved panel, revealing a small white chamber with enough room for Plop ‘ik. I disrobed and he directed me inside. The glass door slid shut behind me with the obligatory shhht sound. Hot water began to pour down from the ceiling, as hot as I could stand. It felt like I was being sand blasted and then an explosion of air from beneath me removed every molecule of water, or anything else, from my broken, naked body. I stumbled out and Plop ‘ik offered me a stool that I had not seen before.
“So thirsty,” I said. I felt desiccated inside and out. There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than a tall glass of ice cold water.
“I am afraid that you won’t be able to consume any liquids for a little while longer. What we must do will require that you’re stomach is completely empty.”
“Trust me, there is nothing left in there. I promise,” I said and felt another surge of bile ascend my esophagus. “Then I need some answers.”
“A fair request, Isaac. I will do my best to satisfy it but I must admit, I cannot tell you every aspect of our work. For it is possible your brain is being accessed by other minds than mine. Minds that would seek to impede us. Beings that, if they understood your value, would not hesitate to kill you. The Consortium has expelled me. They have discovered my intentions and now Kli Truip will stop at nothing to kill me and my human Retainers.” His flagella were undulating slowly, fading from turquoise to a deep indigo.
“You were part of the Consortium at one point, right. A kind of designer? I think you said you were an architect? They’re trying to kill you now, though? Don’t they need you?”
“They did. Unfortunately that is no longer the case. The Consortium’s mission here on Earth will end soon. The Commander has decided to implement the final phase of their plan.”
“You mean this Kli Truip, right? But what the fuck do you all want with me? Why can’t you tell me why it’s all happening to me? I never asked to help you fight this war, as noble a cause it may be. Though you haven’t told me that either really. You have a knack for dancing around the answer and something tells me that you know exactly what you are doing.”
“I apologize, Isaac. I will be forward. You are the only human on the planet with a brain that can house a mind capable of quantum separation. Your mind can exist in more than one place at the same time.”
“That’s complete bullshit, Plop ‘ik! You said that natural selection made humans what we are and that you just directed our evolution with programmed viruses. How can natural selection work outside the laws of nature? Even if you secretly programmed a virus to change my DNA, how could you change my brain into something that doesn’t exist in nature? I am still made of the same shit as all other humans; carbon, nitrogen, proteins, and... and...” I felt a pang of vertigo and then I collapsed.
Plop ‘ik’s flagella slackened and turned a bright green. He walked over, his clawed feet clicked on the metal floor like rain on a tin roof, and put a warm hand on head. Instantly my dizziness vanished and I felt quite good. Jubilant, in spite of broken bones and a throbbing head. I was hopeful. I was proud. I felt like a powerful animal, just awake, stretching in the sun. Plop ‘ik was doing something to me and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stop.
“You make a very good point”, he admitted. “According to human science it is impossible to separate the mind from its corporeal housing. But did you not astrally project your own mind outside of body last night?” He lifted me to my feet and led me by my hand to a great window, filled with ethereal light.
“Please, come with me,” he said with a reverent intensity. “I want to introduce you to a friend. Well, one of them at least. What you deem impossible, he sees as merely difficult.”