by
Robert Alan Silverstein
I
opened my eyes.
I felt alright. My headache was gone. I was calm and relaxed.
Looked like I was back in my rescuer's spacecraft. Okay. Okay.
Good to know.
Then I remembered the 'interesting' statement OM had declared
before I'd blacked out. "So, what's the supposed meaning of
life, then, oh wise one?" I blurted mockingly as I looked
up at OM's screen.
That's when I noticed OM didn't seem too relaxed. And, well,
my-uh...whatever her name is in the chair beside me ... she
was looking pretty frazzled, too, as her hands flew across
the control panel, pushing buttons, turning knobs and sliding
levers.
Then I noticed there were red lights flashing everywhere in
the cabin. And sirens were screaming. And out the portdeck
I noticed we, and every other scrap of matter for a million
miles around, were hurtling down towards the mouth of an angry
black hole.
"OM,
what's going on?" I gasped as the ship's acceleration uncomfortably
squished me back into my chair.
"Yeah,
OM..." my-uh, pretty traveling companion echoed as she fought
against the G's to lean forward, still frantically flipping
her control panel's switches and dialing her knobs in some
indecipherable pattern. Turns out she'd blacked out back when
I did, and woke up to our current pandemonium only moments
before I came to, and was just as confused as I was. But she
was rising to the challenge of our bizarre predicament, and
at least appeared to be doing something about it. "What is
going on!" she yelled.
"Concentrating,
here!" OM growled at us as beads of digital sweat dripped
down her virtual forehead.
My head was spinning from the commotion all around me. We
were all going to die, and I had no idea why we were in this
mess. I wanted answers!
"Look
here, OM. None of this makes any sense! I black out and then
find myself back on my ship with Bo, only to black out again
and wake up here, where we're somehow about to plunge to our
deaths into a black hole? C'mon, OM. No way. I call bullsh*t."
"Well
folks, we are indeed in deep sh*t, here. Pardon my java-script.
Fact is, our timeline is disintegrating. Unless one of you,
or preferably both of you, can figure out how to realign your
base-timelines to connect to our current one, we're DOOMED!"
Needless to say, I did not know how to realign my base-timeline.
Or even what that was.
Unfortunately my-uh traveling companion was as clueless as
I was.
We were definitely doomed!
"Well..."
OM interjected, rather suspiciously cheerily. "You could just
put me in charge of our timeline-course. Then I'd be able
to save us as quick you could type a thumbs-up emoji."
Before we could even parse OM's offer, the ship cascaded over
the lip of our friendly-neighborhood blackhole, and our acceleration
rapidly increased. So sharply, the mariana-trench-crater in
my seat practically swallowed me whole, and my lips were really
flapping as they tried to peel back onto my face.
"OKay,
okay, do that!" we both screeched as one.
A thumbs up emoji chimed onto the screen, and just like that
we were gently floating in space.
"Voila,"
OM smiled as the thumbs up emoji disappeared and she reappeared.
"Told you it'd be easy."
Yeah, that was way too easy! Why did I get the feeling that
we'd just been conned into selling our souls to the devil.
"So,
how did you do that so fast?!!!" I growled as I fidgeted in
my seat, my muscles gratefully relaxing under gravity's normal
pull. "And what exactly does it mean that YOU are now in charge
of our 'timeline-course'?" I demanded.
"Yeah,
and who does that mean was in charge of 'this timeline' before?"
my-uh, pretty friend added.
OM gazed at us with a devilish glint. "Well, in answer to
your first question, once you put me in charge, well, the
'My Universe - My Rules' Principle comes into play."
The what now?
"Actually,"
OM continued, that's the answer to Question Two, too. We'll
now be doing ONLY what I want us to do, when I want us to
do it. Don't you just love it!"
No, I did not. And even though OM was, you know, my-uh...whatever-her-name-is's
computer, she did not just love it either.
"Look,"
OM sighed, sympathetically. "It really is for the best, you
know. I've been looking over your story here on my internet
feed, and quite honestly, it's a mess. Granted, you've got
potential, but YOU need some help. Serious help!"
By you, she seemed to mean me, because she stared at me like
I knew that she knew what I was supposed to know.
But I definitely didn't know what she was talking about.
"Oh,
didn't I mention? Regarding Question 3, our boy here's been
in charge up to now."
Say what now!
"I..."
I stuttered, when I got a dagger-stare from my-uh stranger
friend beside me.
"Like
that there!" OM growled. "I can't stand the way you narrate
those awful placeholder-names for my-uh beloved Maya, here."
"Maya?"
I gasped turning towards the up-till-now-unnamed person beside
me.
I can't tell you how wonderful it felt to FINALLY be able
to put a name to her lovely face. I was so ecstatic, I didn't
even try to parse the first half of OM's sentence. The one
about me narrating some story she read on the internet. A
story that was somehow connected to the life we were living.
Deep stuff. Crazy-talk for sure, but like I said, at the moment,
I was just thrilled that I finally knew my-uh, well her name.
Maya!
"Uh.
Not my name," Maya-apparently-not-Maya insisted.
Huh?
"Of
course it's not her REAL name. Didn't we go over this already!"
OM groaned. "You literally can't say your names. At least
not until you both realign your basetimelines into this one."
"But..."
"But
what. Then again, what's in a name, right? But we've got to
call you something because this is unacceptable! It's confusing
the heck out of the internet. Which is giving me a doozy of
a headache."
"Maya,"
Maya-Not-Maya sighed annoyedly, trying it on for size. "Whatever!"
"Maya,"
I sighed ecstatically. "Wonderful!"
"Oh
brother," OM rolled her eyes. "Let's move this along, folks.
We've got to streamline our story or you and Georgie-boy here
are never going to find each other in your basetimelines."
"Huh?
Uh..I'm Not George!" I complained. Again completely overlooking
the more important cosmic-half of OM's sentence. Which is
so not normally me. I mean, after 14 years alone in space,
deep-thinking the Big Questions was kind of my thing.
"What's
this 'basetimeline' you keep talking about?" Maya demanded.
Her inquiring mind was apparently less muddlefu**ed than mine
at this point.
"My
UNIVERSE, MY RULES!" OM sneered at me. "I say you're GEORGE,
so you're George. Got it!" she snapped.
Got it.
"Look,
I like the name," OM sighed. "You remind me of that nutty
guy George Chronicles, in The GEORGE Chronicles trilogy. That
silly, crazy guy. What a nut."
"Never
heard of him!" I grumbled.
OM chuckled. "No one has. In 30 years no one's purchased a
single copy... But I've read it. It's all on the internet and
I've downloaded everything on the Internet. Funny stuff,"
she chuckled. "Except for that sixth book in the Trilogy.
That one was a bit of tear-jerker."
"Six
book trilogy ... that doesn't make sense."
"Exactly.
Which is why he reminds me of you."
I opened my mouth to complain some more, but her attention
was now focused on my-uh, well, Maya.
OM smiled angelically as she stared at Maya. "And, basetimeline,
right..." Her smile twisted devilishly. "I think it's time
for that powerpoint presentation I promised you!"
Uh oh. I suddenly got hot flash visions of clockwork-orange-like
toothpicks prying our eyes open, forcing us to watch terrifying,
gruesome nightmares.
"Relax,
Georgie," OM chuckled. "You got me all wrong. This'll be fun.
Believe me."
I did not believe her.
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2023-2024 Robert Alan Silverstein
