She’s sure that there are people out there who profit from those who believe in that metaphysical nonsense, who want to think that this life is a second chance to fix what they couldn’t fix before, because after all, what’s the point of life if they couldn’t. She’s seen the offers as she wanders through the streets on her way home from work, toting the skills of experts who could read into your past life and repressed memories, see what you did wrong last time, and tell you how to change yourself now so as not to repeat the cycle. As far as she’s concerned, it’s a pretty heavy crock of bullshit.
Then Apollo 22 set down on Mars, and a collective shiver went down the world’s spine.
Jamie still remembers the way it made her skin crawl, this forced feeling that someone was touching something they weren’t supposed to, disturbing something they shouldn’t have disturbed. It doesn’t make any sense, because even if it were what the psychics were claiming, how could this have happened?
They say that when you shiver, it means that someone’s stepped on your past life’s grave. Jamie never believed in that sort of thing, but how does that work. How did her past life live on Mars if she’s spent her entire life on Earth?
And how did all of them feel it all at once?
She’s currently burrowed herself in her office at the University of Cincinnati, stacks of books on the various interpretations of past lives over the years. Her archaeology skills are limited in this particular form of research, and she’s not sure she believes, exactly. Still, she can briefly entertain the notion, at least for now, until she understands the why and how.
A short knock raps on her door, and her head pops up from the paper with a frown. She pauses to adjust the glasses on her nose before pushing up and straightening her desk, putting the offending texts away for later.
“Yes?”
The door opens, and two men in suits make their way inside. One has the stature of an academic, hunched shoulders and worn patches on the elbows and other suits’ areas. The other has the size of an agent, broad square shoulders, eyes scanning the rest of the room as though threads were hiding in her preciously preserved fossils and relics.
“Dr. Adder,” the academic begins, holding a hand out to her. “My name is Dr. Anthony Muller. I work for NASA.”
Nagging familiarities about the man click into place with that introduction. “You’re the man in charge of the Apollo 22 mission.”
“Yes,” he smiles, relieved. “And this is Agent Cordon from the FBI.”
The FBI is a little more worrisome. She glances between the two men as she shakes Muller’s hand, hoping she seems more curious than concerned. “What can I do for you, boys?”
“If you’re familiar with who I am, I take it you’re familiar with what happened after Apollo 22 touched down?”
“I experienced it, same as everyone else, if that’s what you mean.” She gestures for the two men to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Muller takes her up on the offer; Cordon doesn’t. “I’m curious what you think this has to do with me.”
“You’re not in trouble if that’s what you’re worried about.” Muller holds up his hands in a placating gesture, while the look Cordon gives her silently adds a yet to that statement. “I’m a big fan of your work. I just finished reading your paper about the discovery you made in Death Valley.”
“Really?” Muller certainly knows how to flatter. “Then I’m glad someone enjoyed it. But it still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, in my office.”
Muller sighs. “I’m sure you, like us, have a lot of questions about what happened on Mars that would generate that kind of reaction. The metaphysics of past lives are complicated, from what we understand, but we didn’t think that they were interplanetary.”
Jamie raises an eyebrow. “You believe in past lives, Dr. Muller?”
“I’m open to anything. Especially if it’s something that might lead to a discovery unlike any we’ve ever seen.”
Jamie straightens in her chair as she starts to connect the dots on what he’s saying. “Wait. You’re not …”
“As I said, I’m a big fan of your work.” He leans forward, clearly invested. “And I would love for you to run this project.”
Jamie pushes her glasses up her nose again as she leans in closer. “Let me get this straight. You want me to run an archaeological dig on Mars to try and find the collective past lives of the human race.”
“Think about it this way,” he says with a small shrug. “Whatever’s up there, it’s gotta be pretty cool, right?”
She’s finding it hard to argue with that line of thinking. Jamie’s eyes float up to Cordon, raising an eyebrow at him. “So what do you get out of all of this?”
“Just here for security, ma’am.”
“Uh-huh.” Jamie runs a hand through her hair, her brain spinning with the possibilities. “You know I’m not an astronaut. I’m not going to be able to hop a ride to Mars on the next flight.”
“We have time to get you up to speed, but I think you’ll be just fine.” Muller’s hand goes into his pocket and pulls out a card, reaching forward and placing it down on her desk. “Think about it. And give me a call when you have an answer.”
She nods in agreement, and she can’t guarantee her answer will be yes. But she can’t deny something is intriguing about the opportunity. She reaches for the card, pulling it into her chest so that she can study it, before looking up at the two men as they go to exit her office.
“Hey, Cordon. What do you think about past lives?”
Cordon turns back to look at her as he reaches to pull out his sunglasses, and he shrugs. “I’ve got enough troubles in my life, ma’am. I prefer to stick with this one.”
She smiles as he disappears out of the room, and she turns her chair to face the windows. “I think I like you already.”
#020 ~ as we rest here alone like notes on a page ~ original ~ 1,058
Jamie had never put much stock in past lives.
She’s sure that there are people out there who profit from those who believe in that metaphysical nonsense, who want to think that this life is a second chance to fix what they couldn’t fix before, because after all, what’s the point of life if they couldn’t. She’s seen the offers as she wanders through the streets on her way home from work, toting the skills of experts who could read into your past life and repressed memories, see what you did wrong last time, and tell you how to change yourself now so as not to repeat the cycle. As far as she’s concerned, it’s a pretty heavy crock of bullshit.
Then Apollo 22 set down on Mars, and a collective shiver went down the world’s spine.
Jamie still remembers the way it made her skin crawl, this forced feeling that someone was touching something they weren’t supposed to, disturbing something they shouldn’t have disturbed. It doesn’t make any sense, because even if it were what the psychics were claiming, how could this have happened?
They say that when you shiver, it means that someone’s stepped on your past life’s grave. Jamie never believed in that sort of thing, but how does that work. How did her past life live on Mars if she’s spent her entire life on Earth?
And how did all of them feel it all at once?
She’s currently burrowed herself in her office at the University of Cincinnati, stacks of books on the various interpretations of past lives over the years. Her archaeology skills are limited in this particular form of research, and she’s not sure she believes, exactly. Still, she can briefly entertain the notion, at least for now, until she understands the why and how.
A short knock raps on her door, and her head pops up from the paper with a frown. She pauses to adjust the glasses on her nose before pushing up and straightening her desk, putting the offending texts away for later.
“Yes?”
The door opens, and two men in suits make their way inside. One has the stature of an academic, hunched shoulders and worn patches on the elbows and other suits’ areas. The other has the size of an agent, broad square shoulders, eyes scanning the rest of the room as though threads were hiding in her preciously preserved fossils and relics.
“Dr. Adder,” the academic begins, holding a hand out to her. “My name is Dr. Anthony Muller. I work for NASA.”
Nagging familiarities about the man click into place with that introduction. “You’re the man in charge of the Apollo 22 mission.”
“Yes,” he smiles, relieved. “And this is Agent Cordon from the FBI.”
The FBI is a little more worrisome. She glances between the two men as she shakes Muller’s hand, hoping she seems more curious than concerned. “What can I do for you, boys?”
“If you’re familiar with who I am, I take it you’re familiar with what happened after Apollo 22 touched down?”
“I experienced it, same as everyone else, if that’s what you mean.” She gestures for the two men to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Muller takes her up on the offer; Cordon doesn’t. “I’m curious what you think this has to do with me.”
“You’re not in trouble if that’s what you’re worried about.” Muller holds up his hands in a placating gesture, while the look Cordon gives her silently adds a yet to that statement. “I’m a big fan of your work. I just finished reading your paper about the discovery you made in Death Valley.”
“Really?” Muller certainly knows how to flatter. “Then I’m glad someone enjoyed it. But it still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, in my office.”
Muller sighs. “I’m sure you, like us, have a lot of questions about what happened on Mars that would generate that kind of reaction. The metaphysics of past lives are complicated, from what we understand, but we didn’t think that they were interplanetary.”
Jamie raises an eyebrow. “You believe in past lives, Dr. Muller?”
“I’m open to anything. Especially if it’s something that might lead to a discovery unlike any we’ve ever seen.”
Jamie straightens in her chair as she starts to connect the dots on what he’s saying. “Wait. You’re not …”
“As I said, I’m a big fan of your work.” He leans forward, clearly invested. “And I would love for you to run this project.”
Jamie pushes her glasses up her nose again as she leans in closer. “Let me get this straight. You want me to run an archaeological dig on Mars to try and find the collective past lives of the human race.”
“Think about it this way,” he says with a small shrug. “Whatever’s up there, it’s gotta be pretty cool, right?”
She’s finding it hard to argue with that line of thinking. Jamie’s eyes float up to Cordon, raising an eyebrow at him. “So what do you get out of all of this?”
“Just here for security, ma’am.”
“Uh-huh.” Jamie runs a hand through her hair, her brain spinning with the possibilities. “You know I’m not an astronaut. I’m not going to be able to hop a ride to Mars on the next flight.”
“We have time to get you up to speed, but I think you’ll be just fine.” Muller’s hand goes into his pocket and pulls out a card, reaching forward and placing it down on her desk. “Think about it. And give me a call when you have an answer.”
She nods in agreement, and she can’t guarantee her answer will be yes. But she can’t deny something is intriguing about the opportunity. She reaches for the card, pulling it into her chest so that she can study it, before looking up at the two men as they go to exit her office.
“Hey, Cordon. What do you think about past lives?”
Cordon turns back to look at her as he reaches to pull out his sunglasses, and he shrugs. “I’ve got enough troubles in my life, ma’am. I prefer to stick with this one.”
She smiles as he disappears out of the room, and she turns her chair to face the windows. “I think I like you already.”