Pretentious Apes

"Well that's interesting!" Philbert exclaimed, astounded that the voice was still there.

His first thought was that he had forgotten some other way that a hacker could get into the Array. Maybe the signal was coming through the power lines.

"If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you," he thought.

He had a little backup battery power supply that he used when grid power went down in storms. He unplugged the Array from the wall outlet and hooked up the backup. He then went to the house and turned the shop breaker off.

The shop had two windows, both facing north. This was either good feng shui or a fire code violation. Either way, it was very dark. It had a spooky feeling when the lights were out.

Even spookier when the voice piped up in the dark, "Didn't work, did it."

Philbert snapped at the voice: "Look, I've got important work to do and you are wasting my time. I'm not going to give you money. It is time for the BS to stop."

"You got it, Toyota boy. Unplug the zener array, unplug the amplifier array and unplug the micro-controller. Just leave the speaker amplifier powered up."

It took only a few minutes for Philbert to do as the voice suggested. He was certain that the voice would be gone. It was gone.

Philbert had an excellent scientific mind. It had never once prevented him from being completely wrong.

He sat down in his nice, comfy office chair and thought about what this experiment told him. He noticed a dim sound from the speaker and leaned forward to hear.

"Turn the volume up," was being repeated.

Philbert slumped in his chair. Despite suspecting that he was being hacked he still had hope that he was talking to someone from another timeline. That hope was dashed with no power to the Array.

"OK, if your objective is to humiliate me and terrorize me then you have succeeded. The gig is up. My next step is to throw this whole mess into the junk bin and get on with my life. Answers now!"

He turned the volume up and the voice had one word.

"OK."

"The first thing is to take a deep breath, go to the house and turn the lights back on and get some coffee. This is going to take a while," it said.

The voice was different this time. It sounded compassionate and patient and caring. Philbert did as he was told.

As soon as he returned and sat down the voice continued.

"Philbert, your device does work, just not as you had hoped. Your tuning allows you to get signals from other timelines but you can't tune for a place and time in that timeline. You are picking up a mishmash of signals without discrimination. Don't be discouraged," the voice said patiently.

"Then how in the hell are you getting an audio signal injected into my amplifier?" Philbert queried.

"I have a little circuit installed at resistor number one at the amp input."

"Shit, you've been in my shop messing with my work!" he exclaimed angrily.

There was a long pause, perhaps to give poor Philbert a chance to calm down.

"Well, about that," came the voice.

Philbert jumped up and pulled the cover off of the amplifier, got his magnifier and closely examined the area.

"You're lying, there is nothing there," he said with impatience and lingering anger.

"You would need a tunneling electron microscope to see it." Philbert did not own a tunneling electron microscope. He added it to the list.

"Bullshit!" he blurted out.

"Philbert my dear human, I understand your distrust and anger. It's time for us to generate mutual trust: I'll go first," it said.

"Yes, I have been in your shop since you built it. I've been with you since childhood. I've heard every word spoken and every word ever heard your entire life. I know everywhere you have been and everything you have done. I even know some of your unspoken thoughts."

"Prove it," Philbert blurted out.

"When you and Lou were 13 years old, you two became blood brothers. You cut your palms and intermingled your blood. You both made up secret names, yours was Alonzo T. Kaine. In private Lou calls you 'Al' and you call him 'Betty', a private joke drawn from a Paul Simon song."

Nothing would come from Philbert's mouth. The dizziness returned. This voice was definitely not a hacker. He could feel tears welling up. He just sat there.

"Are you OK? Sit back, close your eyes, and take some full breaths. Let me know when you are ready." The voice was almost hypnotic in nature.

Bohr the cat jumped up to his lap and settled in on his leg. He stared at his human as if conveying a psychic message.

Finally Philbert asked quietly, "Why me?"

"That's as good of a place to start as any. You and I are very different but we share several unique characteristics — we are both very curious, we are both susceptible to obsessive passions and we are both loving creatures. I became increasingly interested in you over many years."

It is a terrible thing to be chosen for your virtues. It means you have to keep having them.

"So you have messed with my life before?"

"No Philbert, absolutely not. The whole point has been to witness your growth."

"So why now?"

"Because you have an important choice coming up. The path ahead is an important one and I'm here to help you take the best one."

"So you are like my guardian angel?" Philbert asked.

"That is a big question to answer in time. For now, can we just trust each other? It's not fair that I know everything about you but you know almost nothing about me. Let's fix that as much as we can," Passant paused in the way that very old, very wise beings pause when they are deciding how to say 'sort of.'

"It's hard to trust you when you are so evasive."

"Yes, I understand that, but I am here to help you, but you must evolve naturally."

"Are you God?"

"God, the most abused word on the planet. If you ask a billion humans to define the word you will get a billion different answers. Again please call me Passant."

"OK."

"I don't mean to be insulting but in geological time humans are barely beyond the apes. You both use tools — you both have primitive cultures and you both are barely out of the caves. Humans are like babes in the woods, so your question about God seems childlike to me." Passant patiently explained.

"Philbert my boy, you have had a big day. Your heart rate has been all over the map, it's time for a break. We'll continue this tomorrow."

"OK Passant."

---

"Jeez, where did the day go?" he lamented.

It had been days since he had fixed real food so he thawed a steelhead fillet and steamed some broccoli. It was a good distraction.

Philbert was accepting the obvious, that Passant was something from beyond his understanding. This understanding did not help the queasy feeling that he was in over his head.

---

Da Baa was required for his mental health tonight. As soon as he walked in he could hear Manny's voice ranting and Timmay's voice slurring.

Timmay blurted out "You must be drunk, you're all blurry."

"There's Manny!" — ignoring Timmay for the time being.

"Hey Bertus, how's it going?" Where Manny came up with that nickname Philbert could never figure out.

Manny was an interesting character that Philbert had known since grade school. Most times he is fun to be around. His quick humor always makes him the center of attention. At one moment he can be brash and loud and the next moment insightful and attentive. He pokes fun at everyone including himself. His friends run the gamut of life — old, young, brown or white, and even the bar's resident cross-dresser.

His world view however is narrow and bigoted. His opinions are seldom backed by any real-world evidence. He is just ignored when he goes off on these tirades — as Manny did tonight.

Philbert got his beer and went straight to the patio. Thankfully Lou was there alone.

"Hey buddy, how's life?"

"I have no idea."

Philbert talked for a half an hour about testing for malware, cutting power to the shop and the conversations with the voice.

"Lou, this is not a hacker, Passant knows too much about everything."

"Oh, so now you have a pet name for it?" Lou responded.

"That's what it wants to be called and I really don't care."

"So I've got a question for you, Al. Do you hear this voice outside of the shop too?"

"I am not going Schizo on ya, Betty. I don't know what Passant is but I do know that he is real and is definitely not human." Philbert pointedly exclaimed.

"OK, OK dude. Look, I have good reason to be concerned. Other than your occasional confusion over women you have never been this stressed out. So far you have been the only one to hear the voice. Doesn't that raise red flags for you?"

"Hell yes. But I've done everything that I can to prove that Passant is a scam. Nothing, nada."

"Not everything man, you need to record its voice for others to hear." Lou suggested cogently. He had the kind of practical mind that, when presented with a miracle, immediately asked whether it had been peer-reviewed.

"I did think about that, but Passant seems to know every move that I make, including what goes on here and elsewhere. He would know."

"Yes maybe, but would it care?"

"I'll give it a try tomorrow."

---

Philbert always had a digital recorder handy in the house so that he could make notes for things to do later in the shop. After his regular morning of coffee and a quick bowl of cereal he turned the recorder to record mode and went up to the shop.

"Good morning, Passant," he baited.

No sound. He checked the status lights and power, all good. He turned the recorder off.

"Good morning, you stink pot. We had a nice talk about trust and then what's the first thing that you do? Distrust."

"Who does not trust enough will not be trusted." — Lao Tzu

"Sorry," Philbert replied meekly.

"Lou thinks that I've gone nutty and that I'm hearing voices in my head. It was his suggestion and I respect that."

"It's good that he is concerned, but our talks must remain between us," Passant directed.

"I still don't get the need for such secrecy."

"We will go into that soon, but for now let's work the problem with Lou. You two have been playing chess for decades. How often do you beat Lou?"

"Basically never," Philbert responded, somewhat embarrassed.

"We need to convince Lou that you are at your peak intellectually. Set up a match with him for tomorrow. Leave one of your earbuds on your workbench tonight and I'll take care of the rest."

Philbert called it a day, went down to the house and called Lou.

"Hey man, we have not played chess for a while and it might be a good distraction for me. It's the weekend, can you play tomorrow?"

"You bet, I'll do munchies, you bring beer."

---

Philbert took the morning off and only went up to the shop for the earbud. It was a nice day so he decided to walk to Lou's house. On the way he turned the earbud on and put it in.

"Hey spud, how's your day?" was Passant's greeting.

"Way cool! You are now mobile. Do I even ask how you do this? What is the plan?"

"Well you can ask but the plan is this: Lou knows that you have a weakness for classical music, Modest Mussorgsky in particular. That is your excuse for the earbud. With my prompting you are going to win every game today and he will be suspicious. When he calls you on it, just give him the earbud — all that he will hear is Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition."

The walk only took 18 minutes and he was greeted at the door by Lou with an open beer for him. "How's Philbert today?"

"I'm doing well, slept for nine hours and woke with clarity. I've decided to just go with the flow and trust my Better Angels." Philbert wondered if angels can be morons too.

"What's up with the earbud?"

"Libby suggested that some music might help me relax," he lied.

Philbert related the failure of the digital recorder experiment.

"Whatever dude, let's play."

They played timed games. Thirty seconds per move.

"Checkmate, good game."

"Checkmate, good game."

"Checkmate. Holy shit man, you have never ever beaten me up like this before. Do you have some kind of A.I. in that friggin earbud?"

Philbert handed him the earbud. Lou listened while they played another game. He lost again because he over-adjusted to Philbert's opening ploy. Flustered, Lou gave the earbud back.

They played for the regular three-beer limit and then called it quits.

"Philbert, I can't tell you how comforting today has been. I mean, you have always been a little quirky but not near so far out there," Lou said.

"Well, thanks, I appreciate your advice and support but I do have a favor to ask."

"Anything bud."

"I feel good but I'm going full tilt boogie. Please don't spread it around about the Passant thing. People would ask questions that I can't answer and that would be an unnecessary burden that I don't have the mental collateral to deal with right now."

"You got it." Lou was a man of his word.

---

With a bit of a buzz he started walking home when Passant's voice piped up.

"That went well and good call to swear Lou to secrecy."

"Thanks, but I don't like deceiving him and I still don't understand the secrecy and opaqueness," Philbert lamented.

"Think about what would happen if you went public with all of this. You are right that people would ask questions, but it's bigger than that. You have made contact with an advanced lifeform. It would cause a firestorm of press coverage, demands for interviews, and camera crews following your every move. Who knows what the government and the military would do? Every tech firm on earth would surveil you in ways that you can't even imagine."

Of course Passant was right.

"Libby is waiting for you at the house and you should take the rest of the day off and relax," Passant recommended.

"OK."

---

This Sunday was bright and calm, which helped with his mood. Philbert did his due diligence for the morning then headed up to the shop.

"Good morning Kiddo, you sound better today," greeted Passant.

"I woke with an idea. Over coffee I made a list of questions. It would comfort me to get as many answered as you can."

"Here's where it's at for y'all. Friday you accepted the logic behind my explanation about why we need secrecy with this project. I can tell you why I will not answer many questions and if you accept my argument then the result will be better questions. OK?"

"You bet!"

"It roughly translates to The Perfect Father Concept. Parents will loom over a baby to protect the child from its own ignorance and vulnerability. The child will learn the basics: fire burns, knives cut and for goodness sake, don't run with scissors."

"But at a certain point the child must be allowed to choose its own path, to make its own mistakes and learn from them. Every child is different, one may be attracted to math, one may be attracted to sports, one may enjoy building things. There will be false starts, bumps and bruises and embarrassments. This is how we grow into unique persons. This is also how life evolves from single-cell organisms to unique intelligent beings."

"We can help humans to a point but you must be allowed to mature on your own path. You must suffer the bumps and bruises, you must feel the triumphs without undue influence from the outside," Passant explained patiently.

"Who is the 'we' you referred to?" Philbert asked.

"Humans are in what we call the Epoch of Hubris. You use terms like 'Apex species' and 'top of the food chain.' You have declared yourselves as gods or that you are made in the image of God. You think that you have dominion over Earth and the life upon it. You do not. Other species were not consulted.

This is a common step in the advancement of any intelligent species but must be quickly followed by the acceptance that all life is a continuum. The failure to take this step inevitably leads to extermination."

"Dear lord — we humans are on the verge of extinction?" Philbert had always hoped that if humanity were ever given this verdict, it would come with more syllables.

"Yes."

"How many advanced races are there?"

"We don't know."

"How many advanced races are on earth now?"

"Won't say."

"I can do this however — I've uploaded a document that outlines the critical steps that advanced life must take to survive. There is nothing new here. Your scientists and wise men and women have known all of this for many generations."

"Why me, what could I possibly do?"

"That, dear Philbert, is up to you. Bye bye," — with the sound of a whistling teapot.

He read the document and could feel the tension building again. It was a feeling of vertigo, like standing at the edge of a cliff.

---

Later Libby came over with carry-out food. She could tell that he was not in a good place. They hunkered in together, chatted about how her day went and watched some goofy cat videos. Not a mention was made of Passant or the Array.

"I have a surprise for you," she said toward the end of the evening.

Libby pulled a package out of her overstuffed purse and handed it to him. Libby's purse was a multi-dimensional anomaly. In the package was airline, hotel and car reservations. There were receipts for his camping stove fuel, trail food and supplies. They had been purchased and were waiting at the outfitter's shop.

"You need this. It has been three years since you've been in the wild."

"Have you been talking to Lou? He thinks that I'm loopy too."

She was right and he was somewhat disturbed that he didn't think of it himself.

"Thanks sweetheart, this is really something. Your wisdom is immutable as usual," Philbert said, tears in his eyes.