Sunday, July 19, 2009

Novak's Last Theory, Part 6: The Nascent and the Ancient

Today I start my search in the maintenance corridors behind central processing, based on a hunch I can't explain. I'm hoping to find the boy earlier in the day. I carry a light to navigate the narrow, unlit passages. Crossing through an intersection, I hear a voice call my name. I freeze.

It's not one of the crew. Or the boy.

"Who's there?"

The sweeping beam of my light catches movement. A hunched figure steps out from behind a black web of coolant hoses, shielding his face with a gnarled hand.

"Turn the light away," he growls, "you're blinding me!"

I stand staring at an ancient, shriveled man wearing a dark suit. His bald, pale head is mottled with liver spots, and a long, sparse beard stretches below his waist, like vapor spilling from a freezer.

I lower the light, recover enough to speak. "How... how do you know my name?"

"We've met before."

"Who are you?"

His rheumy eyes roll in their sockets. "Why should I tell you again? I grow tired of repeating myself."

"How did you get on this ship?"

He shrugs. "How did any of us? The better question is, how will we get off?"

I reach for my com.

"Don't call them," he says, frowning. "I won't waste my time on your petty validations."

"I'd like one of the crew to confirm your presence."

"Since when do they matter? They would forget their own names if they didn't have badges."

I take a breath, trying to collect my thoughts. "You said we've met before. How is that possible?"

"Wheels within wheels, Mr. Novak. Like days within years."

"Why don't I remember you?"

"You won't yet allow yourself to. But all in time." He shuffles closer, leaning heavily on a polished cane. "Let's talk about your theories. How are those coming along?"

I begin to accept the strangeness of the experience. I humor him by outlining some of the more prominent periods in my study and thinking. He interrupts with occasional questions; seems vaguely amused by it all in a way that disturbs me.

At length, he holds up his hand, nodding. "You have searched and studied, yes. But are you entirely sure that you want to discover the truth?"

"Of course I do."

He gives me an appraising look. "What if I told you that you stopped coming up with new theories long ago? What if I told you that your final theory was the correct one, but that you were unable to accept it?"

I swallow. "I would consider all the evidence."

He makes a croaking sound, like laughter, showing a mouth full of crooked, yellow teeth. "Would you?"

"Yes," I say, with growing uneasiness. "What is the theory?"

"Your mind is beginning to return to it, even now. That's why I'm here."

"The central assertion?"

His face goes dead serious. "You are not the real Arik Novak."

I stare, confounded.

He leans forward, lowering his voice. "I am."


[Jump to part 7: Every Loop Has its Hole.]

2 comments:

  1. I know where your going with this. LOL
    Eric

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hahaha... do you? I expect a full report at the end of the month!

    ReplyDelete