Chapter 3. A Person
After his fine and gentle fingers went over my eyelids, and over my cheeks, and over my lips, and across my chin, and down over my neck, and up to my ears, and again down from my eyes to pinpoint my nose tip, after all this slow motion finger play, here he goes, pushing the pedal with another well-known (to me) philosophical matter.
“Any person on earth consists of either a man or a woman. I’m not into men, in spite of the fancy trends of the days we are living under. However, I’m truly invested in women, as you already figured that out. But loving you beyond myself brought a breach in my investment: all of a sudden there was YOU – my lifemate; and then all the other women – a fine landscape for the voyeuristic soul of a man. But viewing is not touching. I’m too precious to spill or share my body fluids with another woman. I’m too precious not just for my own sake but for your sake as well. Your body, which is the best half of my body, is too precious for me to taint it with another woman. And because you might have lesbian inclinations – who knows what lays buried deep inside a fragile woman’s soul – I have all the reasons in the world to keep myself from touching any other woman. Can you understand that, my bunny?” He concurrently sounds cute and threatening. I can figure this from his sovereign timbre declaring me what he decides, what is good and what is bad for me.
“Yes, I do. And I heard this for a thousand times so far. Will you be so kind and teach me about your newly acquired alien women? The harem on Jupiter or whatever damn planet out there?” I have a sense that he’s on the defensive with his theories, so I throw at him with all the offensive words that I can grab.
“Those are no women but chimeras! A totally different species.”
“More like a fantasy creature?” Is he driving me to the dark dens of computer gaming?
“You may call it that way, if you want. But I discovered how to materially experience the sensuality of a fantasy.” Damn yes, I was right. Here we go with the latest release of virtual reality crap talking.
“So you tell me that Cron was a hologram? It looked so real, so hard…” Oops, shouldn’t have this last word pronounced…
“See? Your whoring inclinations… How hard did Cron seemed to you, Milady? Ahem…” The mean Don throws back at me with my own grenades.
“Did I stirred your jealousy? Just a little bit? Tell me, tell me!” So I lunge ahead in our battleground of words.
“Of course you did. I don’t like you being alone with any other guy, be it real or surreal.”
“See? Same works on my end, my dear teddy bear. I don’t like you being alone with any other gal, woman or chimera.” Thought that was an armistice, until the next second when I hear him saying.
“But I never was alone with one. I picked two dozens of them, exactly not to be alone with one.”
“Ain’t that worse? Twenty-four times worse than being alone with one?” I explode.
“I would say that was twenty-four times better, not worse.” He replies in tranquility.
“How’s that? Enlighten me!” I must look for ammo in or amongst the words provided by his own response. Good that I’m not emotional anymore. Or really?
“Before the enlightening, you should cool down, Doris. Am I wrong or the whirl of emotions returned to ravage your mind?” He noticed sooner than me: all the drama fear dancing on my face. Guess I blush way too often. And there’s nothing I know to control that.
“Okay, okay, calming down. Breathing… Out… one, two, three, four, five… Hands up! In… one, two, three, four, five… Out… one, two, three, four, five… Go on, I’ll keep breathing to oxygenate my brains… Out… one, two, three, four, five… Hands up! In… one, two, three, four, five… Out… one, two, three, four, five…” He sips me with his eyes and silently initiates another speech. Did he learn to master wizard powers over me? Because there are moments when I get this feeling. Now is one such moment.
“Since the eighties you are The Person in my life. For so many reasons, you are Unique to me and this makes you The Person. If I would decide for a mistress, and if you should give in to my proposal, then she will be the second person in my life, in our lives. And that would grab from you “The Title” of The Unique Person that you are. This, my dear bunny, is the rightful fear rotting deep beneath your mind. And for a very good reason! Now consider two dozens of chimeric Jovian nymphos. If not even one of those is a person, then even less of “a person” would be each among the twenty-four of them. I think that those are closer to Nothing than to Something – let not mention the uniqueness of a person. Remember that saying: ‘cheaper by the dozen’ – does it make sense to you?”
“Yes, it does, and it calms me down. I can stop the breathing exercises.”
“Not yet, bunny. Keep exercising because I’m not done yet. Twists may come anytime and I want you well oxygenated.”
I hoped he will give me a break so I may lay down on the blanket, besides him. But no! He prepared more twists. Anytime I could get hit by one of those right in my face. My only option is standing up and breathing. Nice.
“Don, you are indeed tormenting me!”
“Tell me something that I don’t know, honey… Well, moving on, I told you – time before – that the Universe acts like a huge computational machine. We actually live inside a computer so big that we cannot see its boundaries. Remember?”
“Hm, think so. I never paid much attention at your ramblings about astronomy…”
“It’s astrophysics and quantum physics, my dear.”
“Whatever. And?” I can’t remember anything about his physics mumble jumble.
“And it turns out that each human person in part has the ability to hack into this great computer that we call the Universe.” His voice betrays that kind of fascination specific to the crazy guy who wasted night after night looking for a needle in the haystack and finally has found a person willing to listen about the great endeavors of his discovery – maybe of little echo but definitely of high impact, at least on the long run, according to the teller.
“How to hack in? Aren’t we already in?” I ask thinking of yet another bittersweet aspect that I have to endure in my conversations with Don. On a regular basis, scientists manifest high esteem for themselves, probably too high. This makes them treat ordinary people as mentally inferior, less equipped to understand their jargon and, consequently, to stand a dialog with their narcissistic egos. For that matter, they have the habit to lecture us, which implies that they’ll make a pedant opening to prepare us with pretentious condescending phrases. Like we are the idiots who can’t grasp the sophistication of whatever that prideful scientist agreed to share with us, commoners. This preamble lacks completely when my man carries a scientific conversation with me. Actually he’s not even making the difference between talking about sex or science, for him it looks like if they would be the same, sort of… Don throws it at me like he would serve a tennis ball, from equal to equal, with the conviction that I should know as much on the subject as he knows. Which is, as expected, out of question.
“We’re sort of trapped in, honey, like obeying its laws, such as gravity for instance. But hacking in makes a totally different approach, or entry for that matter.”
“Really?” I love the geek in him.
“When we hack in, then we gain access to the source code – actually to a small chunk of its source code…”
Now I can remember why I have no chance to remember anything about this subject. He combines computer science with astrophysics and quantum physics. Take them in part, one by one, and go figure that each of these frontier sciences are already uncomfortable enough. It’s hard – for me at least – to grasp them separately. Plus, besides computers with their daily benefits, particle physics looks more like sleight than science to me. This is why I have no lust to waste my time with measuring the Universe. Less with hacking its “source code.”