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The first thing Miranda noticed was a remarkable lack of pain. No aches. No fever. It felt like she was in bed. A bed with a perfectly firm but giving mattress, and soft, clean, linen-blend sheets. But the temperature was. . . perfectly temperate for her and it also seemed like she was outside, under trees with a gentle cool wind and robust, but not muggy, humidity. She stretched a little bit, with her eyes just cracked.
Everything she perceived was impossible. She couldn’t be in a perfect bed outside. She couldn’t be in her favorite clean nightgown. She was supposed to be tossing and turning in her little bed at home, wearing the dirty t-shirt she'd gone to bed in, ridden with another round of Covid. Trying to keep her family from catching what she had, but also just trying to rest and survive. She loved her family, but there was no way they had cleaned up her room and embiggened the bed and opened the windows, and even if they had, it would be hotter today. . . She gave up on just enjoying the sensations she felt and sat up and opened her eyes.
She was not in Kansas anymore. Nor did it seem that she was in her home in Tallahassee.
She was in a fairly perfect little bed- a queen, probably, and it did seem like it was outside, but as she looked around her at the vegetation of a Florida mesic hammock in autumn, the sweetgum and loblolly pine and live oak and magnolia sort of twisted and faded, in favor of a warm wood-paneled wall like the ones in her grandparents’ old house, with a window out on the landscape and a pair of people seated on stools.
One of the people was Robert Redford, circa the mid 1980s- the way he looked in Out of Africa. He smiled at Miranda and said, in his own voice, “You are correct, of course. All of this is impossible with the technology and developing science that you understand. But it isn’t impossible for us.”
“Nor even is it illogical for us,” said early 1980s Leonard Nimoy, complete with Miranda’s favorite starfleet red naval uniforms from the Star Trek original series movies II through IV. Nimoy was sitting on the stool to the right of Redford.
“Simply put,” said Redford, “We are aliens, and we have abducted you. We are using our technology to read the thoughts you are having as you have them. We read your dreams for a day and a half or so while we cured you of disease and attempted to re-calibrate your parasite load down to something more optimal for you. You humans are complicated creatures, with quite the biome carried around in your guts and skins. Luckily we’re quite good with your particular style of. . . neurobiology, so where we weren’t sure on what to preserve with that biome, we were able to see how different mixes made you feel, and we tried to go with what felt best.”
“We’ve also used these thoughts to put together this room interface where we can talk to you, because we abducted you for a reason,” he continued. “But my colleague is better with sensing your thoughts and emotions, so I am going to let them explain.”
“We do not actually look like you,” said Spock. “Our. . . basic chemistry is different than yours, giving rise to a completely different biology as you would understand it. We actually look something more like one of your shrubs, or large algae, crossed with a rock,” he said, and as he said it, his form sort-of dissolved and reappeared as something like a glistening and fronded red-brown rock, which made some very biological sorts of sounds. Then the fronded-rock being dissolved and was replaced by Miranda’s mother, who said, “Oh, I am sorry Meer, I’m not trying to shock you,” she dissolved and returned as Barack Obama, “I’m just trying to take on a form that will give you. . . maximum confidence to communicate with me.”
“I think maybe you better just pick one human,” said Miranda, “The dissolving and coming back is pretty scary to me. You can stay as Obama, or go back to Star Trek. This all feels pretty star trek-y.”
This time she closed her eyes when they made the switch and found that they chose Bones, also from the movie era, which seemed appropriate enough.
“You’re doing an amazing job of taking this all in, Miranda,” said Doctor McCoy, “Which is good because we need your help. Our kind have abducted 100 different humans from all over your Earth world, because we think your human society, while very flawed and problematic, is worth saving, even though all of you don’t seem able to mobilize yourselves to work on the right problems. There are multiple possible pathways you humans could take to save yourselves from yourselves, and my job is to prepare you to help your fellow humans optimize one of those pathways. Do you feel ready to begin?”
Surprisingly, as she watched Doc McCoy morph one more time into Dr. Samantha Carter from Stargate One, Miranda realized that, in fact, she did.
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Tonithegreat tested positive for Covid this morning after a very rough night of respiratory symptoms last night. She is taking fever reducers now and the right otc meds, but still cannot guarantee that the trippy nature of this little tale is unrelated to fever. She hopes you enjoy it nonetheless!
Everything she perceived was impossible. She couldn’t be in a perfect bed outside. She couldn’t be in her favorite clean nightgown. She was supposed to be tossing and turning in her little bed at home, wearing the dirty t-shirt she'd gone to bed in, ridden with another round of Covid. Trying to keep her family from catching what she had, but also just trying to rest and survive. She loved her family, but there was no way they had cleaned up her room and embiggened the bed and opened the windows, and even if they had, it would be hotter today. . . She gave up on just enjoying the sensations she felt and sat up and opened her eyes.
She was not in Kansas anymore. Nor did it seem that she was in her home in Tallahassee.
She was in a fairly perfect little bed- a queen, probably, and it did seem like it was outside, but as she looked around her at the vegetation of a Florida mesic hammock in autumn, the sweetgum and loblolly pine and live oak and magnolia sort of twisted and faded, in favor of a warm wood-paneled wall like the ones in her grandparents’ old house, with a window out on the landscape and a pair of people seated on stools.
One of the people was Robert Redford, circa the mid 1980s- the way he looked in Out of Africa. He smiled at Miranda and said, in his own voice, “You are correct, of course. All of this is impossible with the technology and developing science that you understand. But it isn’t impossible for us.”
“Nor even is it illogical for us,” said early 1980s Leonard Nimoy, complete with Miranda’s favorite starfleet red naval uniforms from the Star Trek original series movies II through IV. Nimoy was sitting on the stool to the right of Redford.
“Simply put,” said Redford, “We are aliens, and we have abducted you. We are using our technology to read the thoughts you are having as you have them. We read your dreams for a day and a half or so while we cured you of disease and attempted to re-calibrate your parasite load down to something more optimal for you. You humans are complicated creatures, with quite the biome carried around in your guts and skins. Luckily we’re quite good with your particular style of. . . neurobiology, so where we weren’t sure on what to preserve with that biome, we were able to see how different mixes made you feel, and we tried to go with what felt best.”
“We’ve also used these thoughts to put together this room interface where we can talk to you, because we abducted you for a reason,” he continued. “But my colleague is better with sensing your thoughts and emotions, so I am going to let them explain.”
“We do not actually look like you,” said Spock. “Our. . . basic chemistry is different than yours, giving rise to a completely different biology as you would understand it. We actually look something more like one of your shrubs, or large algae, crossed with a rock,” he said, and as he said it, his form sort-of dissolved and reappeared as something like a glistening and fronded red-brown rock, which made some very biological sorts of sounds. Then the fronded-rock being dissolved and was replaced by Miranda’s mother, who said, “Oh, I am sorry Meer, I’m not trying to shock you,” she dissolved and returned as Barack Obama, “I’m just trying to take on a form that will give you. . . maximum confidence to communicate with me.”
“I think maybe you better just pick one human,” said Miranda, “The dissolving and coming back is pretty scary to me. You can stay as Obama, or go back to Star Trek. This all feels pretty star trek-y.”
This time she closed her eyes when they made the switch and found that they chose Bones, also from the movie era, which seemed appropriate enough.
“You’re doing an amazing job of taking this all in, Miranda,” said Doctor McCoy, “Which is good because we need your help. Our kind have abducted 100 different humans from all over your Earth world, because we think your human society, while very flawed and problematic, is worth saving, even though all of you don’t seem able to mobilize yourselves to work on the right problems. There are multiple possible pathways you humans could take to save yourselves from yourselves, and my job is to prepare you to help your fellow humans optimize one of those pathways. Do you feel ready to begin?”
Surprisingly, as she watched Doc McCoy morph one more time into Dr. Samantha Carter from Stargate One, Miranda realized that, in fact, she did.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Tonithegreat tested positive for Covid this morning after a very rough night of respiratory symptoms last night. She is taking fever reducers now and the right otc meds, but still cannot guarantee that the trippy nature of this little tale is unrelated to fever. She hopes you enjoy it nonetheless!
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