THE GALA PARADOX. Chapter 1: The Morph
“What did you see?” Captain asks.
I exhale.
This is too stupid to explain.
Captain Rey gestures to the chair in front of his desk.
I sit. The chair is squishy. I sink into it. My new junk suit squeaks.
Captain sits in his solid chair behind the desk.
“I…I…”
Captain tilts his head.
Just say it.
“I saw this guy that looked like a male version of me.”
Venessa walks over and sits on the desk and crosses her legs. “What do you mean?” She asks.
Captain’s face looks grey and sallow against Vanessa’s deep brown skin.
My eyes fix on a loose buckle on Venessa’s black leather boots. They are real leather. Not fake leather. Not lab grown leather. A family heirloom? They reach her thick thighs and meet the hem of her tight red dress. Unlike the boots her dress is made of the same space junk we all wear. But it is well designed space junk and very bright.
“He looked like me according to a face morph I once did.”
“A face morph?” Her voice cracks before a rise in pitch. She has no LALKA tech.
JONES TECH insisted everyone travelling beyond the solar system install LALKA, but protests erupted. Organismo accused JONES TECH of experimenting on humans. A militant sub group of Organismo accused JONES TECH of using LALKA to destroy the natural voice frequencies of humans. They assert that natural voice frequencies have power and destroying them strips humans of power.
I don’t have LALKA either. The captain does.
“Yes. A face morph.” I nod.
Captain stands up. “The morphs are toys…”
“They are pretty accurate though,” Venessa interrupts.
Look at the captain not at Venessa.
I look at the captain. “He looked exactly like the morph.”
“You saw him in the entertainment district?”
“Yes, by the Ugly Theatre.”
“Where is this man now?”
“I don’t know.”
Venessa points up and finger spins. “Well we can do a scan and find out who was in the area.”
Captain shakes his head. “I am not doing a scan over this.”
Vanessa raises her eyebrow.
My suit squeaks again as I struggle to sit straight in the chair. Is the purpose of this chair to make people uncomfortable?
Captain locks eyes with me. “I haven’t seen anyone with a startled look on their face in a while. I had to question.”
I nod.
Captain leans over his desk. “You know maybe take some of your own advice and meditate more.”
“Yes.” I nod.
Captain feigns a smile. “Have a good day.”
I rise out of the chair. My suit squeaks. It is decent space junk, but not bright like Vanessa’s.
I look one more time at Vanessa’s boots. She smiles. A feeling emanates from her that I can’t recognize.
“Bye.” She says.
I walk out without a formal gesture. The strangeness of this strikes me at the doorway. It has been a while since I saw anyone salute the captain.
I meander through the great hallway and look through the Safaro doors. They are beautiful. The Neurodome artist Ven Qua gifted the magic tech to Forcika but they didn’t have the space to run it. His fans voted to install it on Gala, the ship we are on. It looks and feels like Earth on the other side. You can touch the grass and pet animals. You can ride an elephant.
Do you know what else is strange? How calm and collected everyone is. Not long ago we were on course, passing by markers and rejoicing. We were streaming every minute for fans back on Earth. Fans sent messages, 3Ds, and morphs. We ran them 24 hours a day.
Then one moment all contact ceased. Not a single star or constellation appeared familiar. Nothing matched the maps. But no one freaked out. I didn’t freak out. My son didn’t freak out.
Did my meditation training work this well? I self promoted my courses as top “Jedi” training. I got the term from the old Star Wars movies. I watched all 50 of them.
Everyday people gather at the domes and point to stars and invent names for constellations, yet no one expresses concern. Shouldn’t being lost in space invoke a strong emotional reaction?
How odd it was for me to be startled today. I forgot what the feeling was like. So there is a person on the ship that looks like a male morph of me. So what? Over the years I saw many people that look like someone else.
I was 65 when I made the 3D on Deka declaring that esoteric ideas hide in plain sight and all books and media express hidden truths. It went viral and moved up the Valhalla corridor. Instant fame. My son was a toddler at the time and clapped every time mama appeared through Dimensions.
My son is the first generation of kids born to Wu parents. Wu has doubled human life span for over a hundred years but was only available after middle age. It extended life but often failed to extend fertility. This resulted in many families seeking old world methods to have children. I got Wu at 18. I was one of the first to receive it this young. I am 75. According to the Wu chart this is comparable to about 35 in old world age. The fine print says that there really isn’t an actual accurate comparison. It varies between people. My son hasn’t received Wu yet. He is ten.
I ride the belt into the hovels. Alphiątko should be by the fountain waiting for me. I will tell him about mama’s day.
This is a rough draft of Chapter 1 of my sci-fi novel: The Gala Paradox (working title).
I am fascinated by technology and enjoy theorizing how it will influence our future. For example, I believe that tissue engineering will revolutionize healthcare in spectacular ways, as well as the way we see our human physical existence. I wrote about the accomplishments of tissue engineering in my book Lifting Weights and Growing Organs.
I also think that science fiction will serve as a fantastic vehicle for exploring and giving depth to philosophical and esoteric ideas that have been brewing in my mind since my club days*. I am excited about it.
*Someone recently asked me if I am going to write about those club days. The answer is yes. It is coming.
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