(Just a little fun every author has.)
“Don’t do it.” The voice whispers as I rub my bleary eyes with the heels of my palms.
“Why shouldn’t I?” I ask “It seems like a fun way to get a story going.”
“Because of the ramifications.” The voice warns. “Strong, very strong ramifications.”
Sadie, my yellow lab starts bouncing around and running to the door. She had just been out less than twenty minutes ago, but she acting like she hasn’t been out in a decade. Reluctantly I get up and follow her out the door.
“It’s been years since I’ve had this idea.” I state as Sadie waters the lawn. “Why won’t you let this one grow?”
“It’s too soon.” The voice calls back. “The world is not ready for it.”
I follow Sadie back in and close the door behind me. “Too soon?” I ask. “When is it too soon for Sci-Fi to be written?”
“When it can compel others to act upon the ideas before they are mature enough.”
“Oh now you’re grasping at straws.” I snap back. “Comic books have been out since the Fifties and nobody’s trying to grow claws or bond metal to their skeleton.”
“No but they have mixed animal DNA with plants just to see what happens.” The voice counters.
“Yeah.” I agree, relenting on this point. “”But it was going to happen eventually.”
“Yes, but we made sure it happened at the right time.” The voice comments. “It’s what we do.”
“Sure you did.” I chuckle. “Like you’re not a manifestation of too much Pepsi and too little sleep cause by the time change this week.”
“Are you so sure?” The voice asks. “Maybe I’m from the future communicating to you through your own thoughts inside your mind.”
I take another sip of Pepsi. “Right. Uh-huh. Sure you are. And I’m the Flamenco King of Zaire.”
“I see the Theta waves are getting to you.” The voice replies dryly.
“Theta waves. Yeah sure.”
The voice explains, “Theta waves are what we use to communicate across both time and space. It’s how we can observe different species in different places at different moments in history without interfering with the timeline.”
“Ah.” I comment, “The almighty ‘Time Directive’. Just like in Star Trek. But one thing. You’re breaking that directive by talking to me. In essence, you are changing the timeline. That is, if you were real and not a figment of my imagination. Overactive imagination.”
“Interesting that you would bring up Star Trek” The voice says. “The Star Trek era of exploration only happens after the population of Earth comes joins together over their political, economic, and religious differences.”
“Yeah.” I counter. “But that only happens after a nuclear war and the influence of Vulcans.”
“Imagine what would happen if that unification never happened.” The voice offers. “What untold misery would it bring onto others? Disease? War? Genocide? The wholesale slaughter done to innocents by the thoughtless acts of humans too immature to even conceive of the risks they pose just by stepping onto alien soil? Is this what you would have?”
My mouth tightens before I swig down more Pepsi. “Dude. Lighten up. They’re just stories.”
“Yes they are. But they can inspire people with degrees or dreams to build the platforms to leave without humanity being ready for it. That is why you must stop before doing this.”
“Is this why you had Windows do an ungodly long service package to my computer tonight? Because if that is so, it was not cool! That damn thing took a half hour out of my writing time. I hated that!”
The voice rises a little in my head; instinctively I know that’s the best it can do to yell. “Listen! If this goes forth, whole planets will die out including Earth.”
“Why would the Earth die?” I ask.
“In retaliation to all the deaths and suffering on other planets caused by humans.” The voice replies. “Surely you didn’t think our actions wouldn’t have consequences.”
I sit blankly at this.
The voice implores. “You must wait until humanity has evolved before sharing your ideas. They must lay dormant for now. Let your treasures lie buried until discovered at the proper time.”
I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath.
“Nah.” I decide. “I’m going to go through with this. It’s going to be fun. It would happen eventually anyway. Besides you forgot the biggest Star Trek theory of all. There is a dimension for every choice to be made or not made. A dimension for when I turned left and one when I turned right. For all I know this dimension is the one where I write these stories and nothing happens other than entertaining people. Beside, for all I know, you’re just a creative play of words used to aid in me filling this story.”
My head is silent as I post this up to Word Press and go to bed.