Revolver: Writing Contest

GET TICKETS HERE

Josh Garey

“I am not extraordinary in any way,” Jonah said, his Austrian accent giving the statement a sense of irony and intrigue.

“Shape or form? Come now, my dear Jonah, I think we both know better than that.”

It was the least likely place for a top-secret conversation, making it the best place for it to actually occur: a nice little café on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley, California. As hippies, punks, vagrants and beautiful college girls drifted by, the two incredibly normal looking men in their forties sat staring at each other across their little Italian-style coffees.

The stockier, black-haired man Dimitri breathed an exasperated sigh and hung his head in frustration. Then, as if inexplicably refreshed and upbeat, he looked back up with a cheerful smile and said, “OK, then how about you explain this?”

He stabbed at Jonah’s hand with a fork. It made no mark, left no wound whatsoever. Just went right through, as though his hand wasn’t there. Jonah didn’t react much, just continued looking at Dimitri with an alarmed brow.

“That is not extraordinary, my dear friend, only hidden to most. It is, in fact, as common as the air we breathe. Besides, if you’re going to be so rash and violent, you are not likely to get much out of me.”

Dimitri’s expression softened. “Very funny, but how did you find out? I mean, we know that you were hanging out with the Obsidians for a while in Belize, but we thought it took decades of training or an extremely rare natural disposition to achieve total or even partial immersion without technology”

“I think you have just answered your own question, Dimitri.”

“What? You are using technology?”

“No, Dimitri, I’m just a fast learner. And very lucky. As for the “Obsidians”, you of all people should know that I can’t really go into that, Mr. Top-Secret Research Man.”

“Fair enough,” conceded Dimitri, “and I’m sorry for stabbing you with a fork. Can I buy you lunch and keep this conversation going?”

“Dimitri, I don’t know what your research is, but if you are involved I’m sure it is interesting, technical and highly proprietary. You were always far more technically inclined than I, and to be honest, a little less spiritually inclined than many, so I would imagine they have you pulling apart recovered technology and backwards-engineering it. At any rate, you are correct that I agreed to this meeting because Burgess helped me once several years ago, and it was all the more agreeable when he told me it would be you.

I can’t really tell you much about how I got to where I am. Understanding that is important. I am here to tell you what I think I have discovered thus far. I will do my best to stay away from the word, ‘believe’ because I think it is misleading. My only belief these days is that anything is possible. What I will share with you is what I currently think is most likely.

“OK,” Dimitri said as he took the menus from the waiter’s hand, “fair enough. How about we start with soup?”

“There is no mystery to soup. But yes, that sounds good.”

“And while we wait, maybe you could start with telling me how you avoided injury from my fork without a visitor’s device.”

“Let’s get to that later. First, I’d to ask you a question: have you ever had a dream where everything was pretty much the same as in your waking life, only it was all different at the same time?

“Sure, I know what you mean.”

“I think that when we dream, we are getting a glimpse of the life of one of our parallel selves. Many of them are very similar, occasionally some are wildly different. I think the ones closer to us on the dial, so to speak, are more likely to be similar, and occur more frequently”

“Interesting concept. What leads you to think that?”

“Mostly it’s the realization that we are far more powerful beings than we have been led to believe. You must know that, Dimitri. Technology isn’t the only way to bigger and better things. And the fact that I can cause a fork to pass through my hand without incident and without a device should be sufficient evidence for you to give it credence, no?”

“Yes, by all means. I am at heart a logician, so when the evidence points somewhere, I do my best to be unafraid to follow it. I have to admit that when Burgess suggested that I try the fork thing with you, it took some convincing. Especially since I was certain we were the only section with the ability to do that, and even then only with inanimate objects.”

“I am learning new things every day, Dimitri. One thing that has always perplexed me was the discovery that we, as human beings, are only using something like 10% of our brains on a consistent basis. That has stood out to me as incongruent. Why on earth would God create, or cause to evolve such an extraordinary biological computer, only to have it function at ten percent? It makes no sense.”

“I agree completely, Jonah. That is one of the most taboo subjects among the bio-scientists at the research center, and I think it’s because either nobody has a clue, or some section does know, and the answer is a touchy subject. Hell, they monitor us 24 hours a day, and make sure we don’t talk about specific research with anyone outside our section. We are so compartmentalized at my level it’s ridiculous. I could be helping to create a giant, time-travelling robot penguin for all I know.”

“Well, let’s hope not. And let’s also hope there are no giant squids involved. Squids give me the creeps. Anyway, back to the brain. I think what I have done is found a way to dramatically increase the amount of brain I’m using. And I’m not talking anywhere near 100%. I’m probably using 30% now, if that much.”

“And this is why you can phase-shift?”

“I think it’s the most likely explanation. I have come to suspect that we human beings were biologically manipulated, either by ourselves or by others, to forget some very important things. I think that to this day, there is an extra chromosome or an extra rung on the DNA strand, or something in our blood, that should not be there. Something that hinders our brain functions down to ten percent.”

“Atlantians? Olympians? Greys? Dare I say it, Reptilians?”

“Who knows? But I will say this: the moment I learn to travel in time, I’m going back to find out.”

“Since you have clearance, I’ll tell you: the Reptilians are real. We did a presentation for some big brass one time- cabinet members, senators, generals, the whole bit. We turned on this high-frequency device we had recently recovered, and bam! I shit you not, half the people in the room turned into fucking lizard people! The other half? Acted like it was no big deal. Didn’t bat an eye. Calmly asked us to turn the thing off, and went outside to confer in private for a moment. Hell, we thought they were debating whether or not to kill us! Turns out they just came back in the room and asked us to continue our presentation. When we turned it on again, nobody changed. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen, and that’s sayin’ somethin’. So, you can’t time travel yet, huh?”

“No, no no no…that, I think, is something for much more powerful beings than myself. And yes, I’ve met some Lizard-folk too. By and large, I find them very distasteful. They are advanced, but far more clever than wise, in my opinion. It’s sad, really. But there are a few good-hearted ones out there. I even worked with a couple who were trying to stop the rest from perpetrating 9/11. Sadly, they were discovered and murdered. They tried to kill me too, but have thus far been unable. The ones in charge must have really wanted that to happen, the sick, wicked creatures. And what’s worst about it is that they know they don’t have to feed off fear and anger, they just prefer it.”

“Yeah, that’s a cluster fuck, to be sure. I don’t know who could prove it was all a staged event, but I sure hope one day they do. Anybody who was knowingly in on it should rot in jail for the rest of their miserable lives. I’m still vehement about it; the moment I saw the planes go into the buildings on TV that day I recognized hologram technology that I had worked on! But since they monitor me all the time, I could never go to the press. Or write a letter. I’d be discredited or dead before I walked out again or put the pen down.

Bastards. Anyways, what else can you do?”

This submission has been entered into a contest to win 2 premium tickets + $500 for travel to see David Icke at Wembley Arena, London — October 27, 2012. If you like this article, please share it far and wide, as the winner will be determined by the total number of pageviews acquired before the end of the contest on June 15th. For additional details about submissions, please visit our Contest Page.