Mind the errors. I did this shotgun style. This is subject to further editing, but I just couldn't wait to get it out there:
Hear
me, O Death, whose empire unconfin'd
extends
to mortal tribes of ev'ry kind.
On
thee, the portion of our time depends,
whose
absence lengthens life, whose presence ends.
The
nightmares still haunt me, nearly three hundred years after I took it
too far. Three hundred years. Yes, I wrote that correctly. You might
be surprised to learn that I, above and beyond all of the geniuses of
science, found a way to live forever. Well, not necessarily forever.
The universe will eventually run down and become a lifeless and cold
husk of its former self, strewn with black dwarfs and black holes. At
that time, I will still exist, but will likely be floating through
the endless void of space, unaware of anything, in perfect stasis.
Thermodynamics be damned. But I digress. I needn’t worry about that
eventual fate for oh, probably several trillion years or more. In
other words, I have time. Whether I like it or not.
As
I’m sitting now, I’m looking across the tarnished landscape that
my height affords me. Mount Rainier is the third highest mountain in
the United States. Well, in the land formerly known as the United
States. The elevation and wind patterns here keep me from feeling the
effects of the fallout.
I
anticipate your questions, esteemed reader. Wait a minute, Why would
I try and avoid the fallout if I’m effectively immortal? Despite my
immutable form, I am still subject to experiencing the maladies of
the average human. Radiation can still make me sick. Incapacitated
life is not a life to live, unfortunately. On the bright side, I am
much hardier to temperature and pressure changes. You wouldn’t
believe how much experimentation it took to figure that out.
Right,
far too much information without some proper context. My name is
Timothy Mcbride. Born and raised in a little area known as Texas.
Science, both fact and fiction captivated me as a child. I remember
watching Star Trek with my uncle, my childhood inundated with
fantasies of space travel and aliens. I did exceptionally well in
school, and eventually pursued a degree in biochemistry at UT Austin.
Above and beyond all other disciplines, I found my calling in the
subtle and seamless orchestra of chemical interactions in our organs,
our cells, and our DNA. Somewhere deep within the fundamental pieces
of our universe, life emerged as a result of these small bits and
pieces. Furthermore, these interactions made us what we are. Our
minds, our bodies. Our longevity. Do you see it now? The key to
continuing upon the mortal coil of human existence was in the
chemistry. That seamless orchestra.
I
studied with the fervor of a madman. My peers and my professors were
in awe at my understanding of metabolic pathways, protein formation,
the processes of telomere shortening and lengthening. By my fourth
year of undergraduate education, I had participated in the publishing
of no less than fifteen papers on these subjects. I was a shining
star and a promising graduate career was inevitable.
Alas,
fate, the universe or whatever enigmatic powers that be had other
plans. And it began the second year into my PhD program. Her name was
Camilla. What an odd name when I think of it. You don’t hear it
very often. She was unique, a woman that despite my aloof nature and
busy schedule had somehow decided to pursue me. I would later learn
that this was unusual behavior; I never quite caught on the the
subtleties of other people. She would catch up with me while I walked
between classrooms. She would friend me on social media and send me
messages asking how my day was. She was persistent, but not in a bad
way
like some might think. It surprises me in hindsight that I didn’t
perceive her a stalker. She was endearingly beautiful, and that
likely helped to assuage any fears of being the subject of an
unhealthy obsession. Despite my dedication to the discipline, I am
not an alien or some sort of emotionless monster. I found quickly
that I wanted her for my own, something that I could classify in my
life as “normal”. One day, while Camilla walked with me to my
office, I stopped in my tracks, and looked ahead. I was about to do
something I never had the audacity to do before.
“Timmy,
are you alright?” she asked.
I
gulped, feeling nervous while simultaneously annoyed. I hated
it,
but I tolerated that infernal nickname only from her. I had never
actually asked a woman out before. Against my better nature, I failed
to research the issue in time. However, I knew if I kept staring
forward any longer, She would likely become distressed. Maybe
confused.
I
slowly turned and looked into her wide, blue eyes. Her face was
round, and well shaped. That sounds ridiculous as I write it. But
that’s the only way I know how to express it. Her face was
something that ineffably attracted me.
Her
lips turned up into a great toothy smile. “What’s up with you
today?” she asked.
I
opened my mouth, then closed it. I forced my lips to form words
through my paralyzing anxiety.
“Camilla…
I uh… like you a lot…”
She
smiled even brighter and took a step closer. “Oh really?”
Her
positive response steeled me. At the time, the relative uncertainty
of the situation had me nearly shaking. A thousand doubts and few
encouragements coursed through my mind in an instant. I decided to be
bold and took a step closer to her.
“I
assume, judging on your behavior the past two months… you feel the
same.”
Her
countenance glowed with affection. “What possibly gave you that
idea?”
“I’m
not sure really. Sorry I brought it up-”
“Yes.”
Camilla said, “I return your feelings.”
Right.
Sarcasm. Thank God, I thought. I hadn’t made a fool of myself by
committing some obscure social faux
pas.
I
felt an odd shift in my mind as the anxiety of rejection turned into
the less excruciating but equally terrifying anxiety of getting close
to somebody. I slowly placed a hand on her shoulder. Her smaller
frame gave slightly to my touch, and I could see her breathe ever so
slightly faster.
“Then
maybe you’d like to go out-”
She
leaned in fast and pressed her lips to mine with a fervor I had never
expected anyone to feel toward me. My mind melted in lockstep with my
body into hers, feeling a euphoria I had never experienced in my
life. For the slightest amount of time, I forgot about my life’s
work. I forgot about my clandestine goals. I stopped completely and
felt the cool winter air upon my face, warmed by her immediate
presence. This woman meant everything to me.
We
carried on, going to movies, and dinners. We shared each other’s
lamentations as well as our triumphs in life. We finally became
intimate, and I grew more attached to her than I could possibly
imagine. Just as I felt better than I ever have in my life, things
took a completely unexpected course.
I
had worked long and hard on a research path that I was certain would
open up a world of results and applications. I was almost certainly
on the precipice of a breakthrough! The machinery of life, like
everything else was subject to entropy, and the ultimate goal was to
prevent that specter of Death from affecting those crucial
intricacies. It’s far more complicated than that, mind, but suffice
it to say this serves as a proficient explanation. But it was wrong
somehow. The numbers didn’t add up, though they most certainly
should have. All experiments performed on the mice test subjects gave
a null result or thoroughly ended them. How? Why? I had no idea.
My
fascination with the project slowly evolved into a morbid obsession.
I approached it from every angle and ran every possible computer
simulation. I worked long hours into the early morning on most
nights, forgetting about sleep and making calls home to Camilla. The
chalk boards were nearly white with calculations and chemical
pathways. Some of the research led me into the foundations of quantum
interactions between molecules and their net effect. My mind reeled,
and one night, due to exhaustion I passed out. I awoke in what felt
like an instant, bleary eyed and with a pounding headache.
Through
my blurry vision I saw someone standing over me. It was a man. I
couldn’t make out his features, but I could tell he was wearing all
black. He was a living shadow in stark contrast to the bright
fluorescent lighting of my office.
“Timothy,
I’m quite impressed with your work.”
I
rubbed my eyes frantically, pulling myself from the floor. My vision
cleared and focused upon the face of my guest. His eyes were sunken,
his cheekbones visible through thin pale skin that made him look
nearly skeletal. His jet black hair was parted fashionably,
complemented by an immaculate three piece suit that - as my blurry
vision earlier suggested - was all black.
He
watched me patiently as I composed myself. “Who… are you?”
The
man chuckled slightly, and turned to look at my blackboard. “Oh,
just an admirer of your your research. Engineered negligible
senescence is your specialty, correct? The field is… tangentially
related to my industry.”
“And
what is it that you do?”
He
continued inspecting the blackboard, ignoring my question. “My
favorite uh, ‘term of art’ in your published works is how you
refer to entropy. It really is the Specter of Death, isn’t it?”
I
stretched my neck slightly, working out a crick that worked its way
in during my time on the floor. “Out of order comes disorder. All
of aging is reducible to that, but it’s nothing more than a
metaphor.” I said.
The
man laughed heavily, in an almost undignified manner. “Of course it
is Timothy! Artistic, nonetheless. What if I told you I had a very
personal interest in your work, and that I am a man that has the
capability to generously finance your endeavors?”
That
last part caught my attention. Money had been the largest roadblock
to realizing some of my more ambitious experiments. Despite all the
prestige I had garnered for myself, getting my research paid for was
the thorn in my side. There was so much red tape, grant proposals,
and rubbing shoulders with troglodytes who only had an interest in
anything that would inflate their egos. If their name wasn’t on a
building or a plaque, they cared little for it.
I
had thought the prospect of life extension would be more appealing.
However, my research until that point was nothing more than long term
goals, things that would take time to see real results. The ironic
thing is, those who hold the power to get things done often have a
foresight that ends at the tip of their nose.
I
studied the man closely for a moment, considering. “You have my
attention, clearly. What do you stand to gain from it? Well, besides
the obvious?”
The
dark suited man looked hard at me. “Death has for all of human
history, been a part of life. The cycle continues generation after
generation. It is the works of humanity that have finally come close
to seeing that the cycle is broken! Your ideas are severely
overlooked and I believe that is in no small part to your… asocial
proclivities.”
I
would have felt indignant if I what he said wasn’t true. “Well,
those who have the money lack the vision. It is difficult to explain
to them.”
The
man smiled. “That is where I differ, young man. I want to be a part
of something revolutionary, even if I’m merely the man behind the
curtain! I have searched long and hard for someone like you Timothy.”
His
demeanor was strangely disarming. Despite my inquisitive and often
skeptical nature, I found myself falling for it.
“What
do I have to do?”
The
man walked toward me and offered his hand. “I hear in Texas, custom
dictates that two folks seal a deal with a handshake. I’ll take
care of the funds, you won’t go hungry and you’ll have every
scientific device needed at your disposal.”
This
was a deal of a lifetime. I took his hand in mine. His grip was cold,
and strong. That should have been my first warning.
He
released my hand and walked towards my office door. As he opened it,
I heard him say, “See you on the other side, Timmy.”
“What
did you-”
My
eyes turned away for an instant, and he was gone. I thought for a
moment that I had dreamed the whole thing up. I thought I must have
been hallucinating. It is very much a rare thing to see
Over
the next several months, I saw that my mysterious benefactor was
indeed more than some exhaustion inspired figment of my imagination.
My bank account was replenished weekly with twice my normal salary.
How he got my information was beyond me, but in my astonishment, I
failed to question such minutiae. It seemed every month, he somehow
anticipated my needs. A new Raman Spectroscopy device, test tubes and
other fine accoutrements necessary for a functioning lab.
Despite
having the best equipment a scientist could ask for, I found that my
researched twisted and turned and inevitably found its way back to a
dead end. It was as if I was climbing a mountain, and just as I
pulled myself over the edge to flat ground, another mountain was
placed before me. It almost seemed like things were going in circles.
My mind reeled at the the effort, and desperation transformed into
anger. One night, after a particularly arduous direction led nowhere,
I swept across desk in an uncharacteristic rage, breaking glass and
shattering samples.
Then
there was a knock at the door, then Camilla’s sweet face showed
from outside. My anger was quenched in an instant.
“Timmy,
is this a bad time? I was worried for you.”
“I’m
fine my love,” I lied, “just slipped. What are you doing at the
lab so late?”
She
looked unconvinced. “Just wanted to see if you were hungry, maybe
we could go out?”
As
my heartbeat settled, I realized that I actually hadn’t eaten in a
day or two.
I
looked around my lab and then smiled at Camilla. “Of course, dear.
I’m sorry, I have neglected you for far too long. We can get
dinner, but I have an idea. Why don’t I take a week off so we take
a small trip someplace?”
I
scarcely believed that my benefactor would be upset if I took some
time off. In hindsight, I think that’s exactly what he wanted.
Camilla
and I took a flight to Cozumel. She wanted to go there for a long
time, and her eyes lit up when I told her. Warm beaches, water as far
as the eye could see. Even a workaholic like myself felt solace in
the bright Mexican sun.
A
couple days into our trip, I took Camilla to a bazaar in a nearby
village, not far from the city. She had pleaded with me to go there
and as per the usual, I’d never imagine telling my love no. In the
village, Trinkets of every type lined the main thoroughfare.
Sombreros, little guitars and other tourist related wares were
peddled by the locals. It was definitely different; the cornucopia of
colors and sounds stood in stark contrast to my customary artificial
lighting and chalk dust. I felt relaxed for the first time in what
must have been years. As we walked to the village square, a small
booth caught my eye. There was an old Mestizo woman sitting in front
of a table. Marionettes of human skeletons rested on either side,
crafted in appearance of the iconic art seen during the yearly Dias
de las Muertos festivals.
Among other items rested a thick weathered book.
Naturally
I picked it up and immediately noticed that is felt heavy in my
hands, far beyond that which it should have been. It was bound in a
dark leather, and the cover had nothing upon it except what looked
like a structural formula for some organic compound. I did a double
take. That was definitely the formula for…
“Adenosine
Triphosphate” My mouth said. The molecule of energy used in cells.
I
opened the book, and was met with gibberish. Someone had scribbled
various things that on the surface looked
like
metabolic pathways, but it was nothing I had ever seen before. I
flipped through the pages and was met with things vaguely resembling
religious iconography, pentagrams, and symbols that looked like
nordic runes. My interest nearly faded and as I moved to set the book
on the table, my eyes caught something.
Equations
for the very fundamental quantum interactions I was researching.
I
froze. Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt a sickening affinity
for this book. It was something I wanted. Something I needed.
“What
did you find?” Camilla asked.
I
snapped the book shut. I felt paranoid. I knew that she
should not know what this is.
“Ah,
it looks like an old university textbook for organic chemistry.
Pretty cool! Can’t read the Spanish but I think I’ll buy it for
my collection.”
Camilla
smiled warmly. “A thousand miles from home and you still find a
science book!”
I
returned her smile. “You know me love, it’s always in the
background.”
Satisfied,
her attention caught something on an adjacent table and I turned to
the old lady. I rifled through the files of my mind and returned with
some seldom used Spanish.
“Uh…
Cuanto Cuesta?”
She
looked up at me with scarred, milky eyes. “Take it. He
will
compensate me.”
Startled,
I stepped back, nearly knocking over a table behind me.
“Ex..Excuse
me?” I asked.
The
frail woman struggled to stand with her cane, turned her back to me
and walked into the shack directly behind her. Unnerved, but grateful
to have my book, I caught up with Camilla and wrapped my arm around
her..
As
we came home and life again returned us to its banal routines, I
spared every waking moment I could reading through the text. I
couldn’t get enough of it. Though my scientific mind saw nothing
but nonsense, I felt
the
wisdom that this book exuded. Every page was a cavalcade of
realization. I saw where I had gone wrong the entire time! The
physical science was merely a tiny facet
of
the problem at large. Beyond my quant little equations was a world of
profound understanding that my closed mind never tried to grasp.
Camilla
had become increasingly worried. I ate little, and slept even less. I
spent far too much time at the lab. I went days without saying
anything to her beyond “Good morning” as I poured through the
enigmatic words. I became thinner than I was usually accustomed to,
and my skin turned lighter as my sun deprived body changed.
In
a gleaming moment it all made sense.
I
heard a shrill female voice and blinding lights engulfed my vision.
“TIMOTHY!”
Startled,
I looked up from my book. I was on the floor in the corner of the
lab. Camilla was standing at the entrance of the lab, looking around
in disgust and in sheer terror.
“My
love-”
“What
the hell is happening to you?” She pointed to one of the walls.
There was a mess of symbols that I recognized as something…
alchemical? It made no sense in that moment. My attention was
squarely on her. “What is all of this?”
She
was nearly to tears. I had to do something. I knew she wouldn’t
understand. I had to do something. I pulled myself up from the floor
and came toward her. I was telling her about how what we call
supernatural and natural are but two sides of the same coin,
something about how energy could never be created or destroyed. All
transforms, and all transformations required sacrifice. She looked
increasingly terrified as I approached her. She would never
understand what I needed to do. In order transcend that dreaded
Specter of Death, there had to be sacrifice.
I
don’t remember much after that. When I sleep - if what I do can be
called “sleep” - I see flashes of memory. My hands around her
tiny throat. Blood painted on the walls. On my hands. On my face.
It
must have been hours later when I finally clearly beheld the horror I
had committed. There she was, her round beautiful face, neck
contorted in an unnatural position. Her naked body had a waxy pallor,
her midsection eviscerated. Symbols upon symbols drawn in caked blood
surrounded her lifeless body.
I
think I cried, or maybe I was simply too numb from the experience to
have any outward show of emotion. I didn’t want to live without
her. For all the time I spent striving towards preserving human life,
I no longer wanted any part of it. I ran to the roof of the building
where my lab was housed. Five stories high, I wagered that it would
be enough. This was the atonement for my crimes. I stepped onto the
ledge and looked down. The vertigo and involuntary survival response
filled my veins with a cold adrenaline. Ignoring it, I closed my eyes
and let myself fall.
If
you are still with me at this point. I have a question for you. Ever
been under anesthesia? It deadens the mind so much that even
unconscious awareness is dulled to the point that our ability to keep
track of time is shut down. With a snap of a finger, you fall asleep
and awaken with hours passed, asking if the surgeons have started
yet. It makes me think that if I were to truly die, the trillions of
years until the universe ran through its motions would pass within an
instantaneous moment, were I fated to awaken once again. In some
fashion, my ultimate fate could be something like that, when whatever
eldritch machinations that steer the cosmos to its inevitable ends
makes conditions such that I can finally resume consciousness.
Honestly, I think eternal oblivion would be the better option.
My
first memories after falling was cold. Bitter, deep cold that I have
never felt before. I heard the sound of metal screeched in my ears
and light came to my vision as I was pulled forward. Someone was
standing over me.
“Congratulations,
Timmy. You’ve made it.”
I
tried to sit up but a thin hand kept me down.
“Not
so fast, you’ve been through one hell of an ordeal.”
My
eyes resolved and I saw the man. My benefactor. He smiled at me wider
than I thought possible. That neatly parted hair. That perfect black
suit.
“Wha…
Camilla…”
The
man laughed. “A very unfortunate loss on your part. But to meet
your goal, it was necessary.”
For
a split second I thought it was a dream. My loss bubbled up from me
and I felt tears stream down my face. I sobbed wretchedly. He ignored
it.
“I
didn’t lie to you when I said I was interested in your work, but
not in the way you thought. It would have kept me from mine and I
can’t have that.”
“Who…”
“Ah
yes, I never told you my name. Through your flowery language that I
so loved, you know me as Entropy.”
I
was far too delirious to understand what he meant. He continued on.
“You
see, Your fervent goals would have kept me from mine. I couldn’t
have that, Timmy,” He tsked a few times, “Not at all.”
I
shifted my weight on the cold steel. “Bastard…”
A
mock frown played about his face. “Oh come now, after all I did for
you? You’re free! My presence shall no longer be a thorn in your
side.”
“Go…
to hell…”
The
Specter of Death laughed. “Oh if only I could. Then again, looking
at you right now, I think that
place
is probably closer than you think!”
My
breathing became less labored, and I coughed several times, bringing
oxygen and warmth to my extremities.
“I’m
running out of time, and I have another great adventure to attend, so
let me tell you about yours.
You will live. You will not die. All in accordance to your grand
plan. And all it took was for you to sacrifice everything.”
“Why
are you doing… this?” I said.
“Because
I hold open the door for others. And you tried to kick my foot out of
the way. Your hubris really pissed me off, Timmy.”
I
tried to say something, but I couldn’t. He leaned over me, applying
more pressure to my chest. His face leaned in, inches from
mine.
“Good
Luck. And you might want to get out of this morgue before somebody
sees you. But give it time and they probably won’t matter anymore.
I looked ahead and whew!
Things
look bad. I have a lot of work ahead of me.”
The
pressure on my chest vanished and I was alone.
I
never saw Death again. And never will.
