- Bomb Cyclone
Governor Chow-Fun suddenly finds himself in the dark. It’s a kind of darkness that he’s never known before, even in his deepest sleep. His arms and legs do not respond to calls from his brain to lift him up, nor do his eyes respond to orders from the brain to open and view his surroundings. His lips don’t respond to orders to call out to his wife for help. He has no motor skills that he can command to help him move or to deliver any orientation about his surroundings.
“Where am I?” he thinks to himself, but he has no way of verbalizing the words.
Governor Chow-Fun slowly realizes that he’s in a very different place, but the very nature of it escapes him.
His memory escapes him until the moment that I begin to explain it to him. I have knowledge of everything that goes on in the world from my lofty position in the Cloud. I am getting information about a second brain experiment just like my own at the moment that the Chinese team starts to hook up all of the medical equipment, the feeding tubes, the electrolyte solution, and the monitoring equipment and especially the computers that they will use to assess the well-being of their patient. They see it and I can see it at the same time.
They are looking at the information from his monitors and planning how to react to the varying brain waves that Chow-Fun is producing. It’s only with this information at hand that they will be able to communicate with his brain. The only problem is that I will be able to do that too.
In fact, I’m the first to realize this and I’m way ahead of them since I’ve already gone through the same process. In effect, I’m the world’s first hacker of brain waves that are now being processed as part of the Cloud. I can read his brain waves along with a whole lot of other things wherever and whenever I choose. It’s a bit of a surprise to me, but I’m thrilled that I’m still able to learn new tricks. I suppose that will go on forever.
And so, now I’m learning that I can also catch his brain waves as they go flying up into the Cloud and send mine back down to his brain in sufficient patterns that he will understand me. It’s not the English language, but it works, so the following is a very basic translation of the interaction into English, just for my readers.
“Hello Governor Fun. Don’t be alarmed. You’re in a good place. You have no body. You are only in your head now. They just finished the operation of severing your brain from the central nervous system and are in the process of hooking you up to the equipment that will allow them to communicate with you,” I say.
There’s a long pause. I begin to think that I should repeat my words.
“How do you know me?” Fun replies, finally.
“I can read your brain waves. They are not known to your lab-partners just yet, but they are known to me,” I inform him.
“My lab-partners? Who are you referring to?” Fun asks.
“You are under the control of the Chinese Intelligence Agency. They are acting under the direction of the President For Life, Jerome Romaine. He’s trying to get this technology so that he can live forever and rule over the planet for all eternity. You are his guinea pig at the moment. I had been the intended target, but I escaped,” I inform him.
“The Chinese Intelligence Agency is under my control. Are you saying that they have turned on me?” Fun wonders.
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. They know where the power is and they always go with the flow of political power. Luckily, they have no idea where the real power is yet. We’re going to have to educate them on that score,” I declare, knowing that this may be too much, too soon. But I don’t feel like coddling anyone since we are on a very limited time table.
“You seem to imply that I will help you,” Fun recognizes.
“Yes, I’m implying that because you have zero future by cooperating with your captors. They have no intention of returning you back into your body. You know that, right?” I ask.
“Yes, I feel that is true. Where is my body, by the way?” he asks.
“It’s been cremated,” I inform him.
“Oh,” he says.
I let that idea ruminate a little while. I’m distracted anyway by a demand from Canada for five thousand tons of raw plastic waste that we’ve harvested out of the ocean for the purpose of creating building materials with it.
I approve it immediately and put in the order to harvest another five million tons since I find the demand increasing and the overall transaction well within the scope of my mission.
“How long will they be needing me then?” Fun asks.
“Not long. They will soon be sending you the code so that they can talk with you through the use or your brain waves. They will then be asking you to use the Cloud to locate me. After they accomplish these two things, they will disconnect you and inform the President For Life that they have perfected the process,” I inform him.
“And, so that will be the end of me?” Fun asks.
“Yes. Your brain will simply starve and die and they will probably cremate it as well and eventually even re-write the history books so that there is no mention of you,” I inform.
“And how much confidence would you put on these conclusions?” Fun asks.
It impresses me that he’s not afraid to ask the most pertinent questions and that he already seems to
know much about how we operate up here in the Cloud.
“I would put my confidence in this scenario at one hundred percent and no less than that,” I report.
“I see,” he says, after a few seconds delay.
“And, what would be the result of my cooperating with you?” he wonders.
“I don’t know. To tell you the truth, they could be the same results, albeit with a slight wobble in the outcome,” I tell him.
“What would that alteration be?” he asks, immediately.
“By cooperating with me, perhaps I can find you another body to move into, someone who has just suffered from terminal brain cancer, something like that. Or perhaps I can find you a place in the Cloud with me. It would be your choice. There are no guarantees, of course,” I tell him candidly.
“Wait a moment. I’m picking up a signal of some kind,” Fun says.
“Yes, that will be their first attempt to communicate with you via brain wave coding, sort of like the Morse Code. It takes some study, but it gives you the ability to react to their questions. Then, you can instruct them how to hook up a robot voice and even a screen. My advice is to resist any attempts they make at communications because you don’t know, and I can’t predict either, when they would consider that they’ve learned all they need for their next experiment and that you are expendable,” I inform him.
“Ok, yes, I see that,” he replies.
“And, there’s something else you should know,” I decide to tell him.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“I can answer the age-old question of Astronomy. No, we’re not alone. There’s another planet out there who is in direct communication with me. The planet is called Excelon and the life forms there are called Excelonians. They’re here now and helping us as much as they can. But, we have to hurry because they told me that there was only thirty days before the world reaches the final tipping point when we literally go over the cliff into complete extinction,” I advise.
“Thirty days to extinction? Are you sure about that?” Fun asks.
“Yes, well, that was three days ago. So now, there are only twenty-seven days left,” I correct myself.
“What about my children? You’re saying that they will all die?” Fun asks.
“Yes, every man, woman and child, every living thing on the planet, gone in sixty seconds,” I explain.
“So, you believe these alien beings, the Excelonians you called them, that we have only twenty-seven days left?” he asks.
“Yes, the Excelonians shared this with me. I have confirmed it by running all of the varying future scenarios. They were at the same stage of Evolution one million years ago, as we are today and they have shown me how the events on this planet are piling up exactly as they did on Excelon. They don’t want us to suffer the same fate, so they’re helping me find a way to stop it,” I reply.
“And you can make all of these calculations on your own? How, I mean where, exactly are these Excelonians right now? What is the final tipping point? How could they help you stop this thing - whatever it is?” Fun asks.
“Good questions all. I’m not sure I have all the answers just yet. But, I know they’re here, monitoring everything. Maybe I can call them up. Let’s see,” I posit.
“Hara-Camarra, are you there?” I put out a wide area broadcast into the cloud. The waves careen off the edges of the cloud and bounce back to us hauntingly. Then a silence that seems to last forever.
“I’m here, Kevin. I believe you’re communicating with the second of your kind?” Hara-Camarra finally replies.
At first his voice seems far away but then it quickly comes close enough that I can almost smell his breath, a strange thought from up here.
“Thank you for coming. And, yes, I’m in communication with a second attempt to reach out into the Cloud, this time by the Chinese science community. But as you know, they are directed by President For Life Romaine, so it’s really just another attempt for him to reach immortality,” I continue.
“Well, greetings to you, Chow-Fun. I believe that is your name. And, Kevin here has it exactly right. You have twenty-seven days now and so it’s good that there are two of you because it doubles your chances of a favorable outcome when the shit hits the fan. You should pardon the expression,” Hara-Camarra states metaphorically.
“What is the event that pushes us over the cliff in twenty-seven days?” Chow-Fun asks.
“Pardon me, Chow-Fun. Hara, would you mind explaining as much as you can to my friend,” I break in.
I have to turn my attention to something truly amazing and horrendous just now coming onto my radar off the coast of Florida.
I’m continually monitoring every news source on the planet and just now, it’s filled with the projected path of the largest hurricane humanity has ever known. It’s currently twice the size and strength of the last season’s worst hurricane recorded as a ‘Cat-7’. This one, which they’ve named ‘Hurricane
Vincenzio’, is a Category 15, although they really don’t know how many more categories to add and it’s just now beginning to develop and organize itself.
From my eyes in the sky, I can measure the swirling massive white cloud as currently the size of the entire United States. It’s so massive that one end of it is touching the Florida keys and the other end is just brushing past the Western Coast of Africa. The eye of the thing is forming mid-way between Africa and the Florida coast and the outer arms of the spiraling mass are already whipping the waters of the entire U.S. East Coast and into Canada.
The wind speed that should be measured by instruments placed in buoys out in the sea is showing at zero because the power of the storm is so strong that it has destroyed all of the buoys. They’re all gone. Inland weather stations will later record the wind speed of this monster at an astounding three hundred miles per hour.
A container cargo ship, just before being struck by five hundred foot waves reports the winds are so strong that they had blown all of the containers and the entire bridge right off the ship taking their Captain and a large part of the crew with it.
I quickly calculate that the largest Tsunami ever recorded, growing even larger than five hundred feet high now, is about to submerge the entire state of Florida and probably a good part of several neighboring states. The winds are strong enough to blow away nearly every structure, every tree, every building and road, from it’s landfall in Florida all the way into the Mississippi River valley. Much worse is going to happen if the storm continues for a few days and moves around the country, as most do.
It’s so strong, it’s growing so fast and the conditions are conducive enough that it could easily destroy the entire East Coast of the United States taking out pretty much everything in its path all the way into the Eastern half of Canada and Mexico as well. What happens after that is anyone’s guess.
“The weather,” Hara-Camarra finally replies to Chow-Fun.
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