Chapter One – Bonsai

Bonsai

Chapter One

I can separate my thoughts at times from the others.  At times I cannot remember which memories are mine and which are shared.  I will attempt to tell the tale using whatever memories are available to me.  I will attempt to tell the tale while the pain settles in the valleys, — during the peaks I cannot think, only feel, and though the pain is relentless, I can at least concentrate when it is at its throbbing rest and not screaming into my soul.

We had constructed a special chair from rare and expensive elements for him to sit on; he was that important.  He didn’t want to be surrounded by official government types; he wanted to be surrounded by the more common civilians of planet Earth.  He wanted to embrace our humanity not be cloistered away in the fog of politics.  K’Chul-Kan, from a system far away, sat heavily upon the cushioned throne.

I was the first human being to come in contact with an extraterrestrial, and I had not yet left his side.  Upon our first odd meeting in the middle of a secluded forest, he spoke to me as if he hadn’t noticed finding me strewn back against a fallen tree bawling like a baby, my heart shorn from me.  Betrayal and violence had left me unable to go any farther than I had already traveled.    In my desperate attempt to outrun my pain I thought that maybe Death, standing tall enough to block the evening sky, had come to carry me away from the spot where my running ended and my will had given out.

But he didn’t carry me away.  He sat uncomfortably on the ground, crushing the surrounding brush with his enormous bulk, and quietly began asking me questions.  His voice calmed me so that I could focus my thoughts on what he was saying. I answered everything he asked with the brutal honesty of someone with nothing to lose; having felt already that everything was lost.

We spoke for fourteen hours straight, through the night and into the afternoon hours, before my voice finally gave out, and yet he seemed as alert as when he had first approached me.  K’Chul-Kan listened almost appreciatively to everything I had to say. He spoke with a voice that could have become threateningly loud from a throat as large as my waist, but he kept a controlled quiet to his speaking, and anything he said made me feel as if he was speaking reverently to a person higher than his own station.

He said he was honored by my honesty.  And I was amazed at his fluency in every language of Earth and his knowledge of all of our civilizations.  He did not judge my predicament, and in fact was not surprised by my own personal stories I told him.  They seemed to hold as much fascination as any worldly news I could also tell him.

K’Chul-Kan expressed a great interest in the philosophies of Earth.  His intricate knowledge of mankind and our history and science was amazing.  He seemed at times to know exactly where we stood in line at the evolutionary gazebo.  He knew exactly where our understanding stopped and hit dead-ends.  Ironically, at times he would give me an education about mankind as his conversations could steer completely out of my realm of understanding.  I volunteered to locate people of greater intellect and knowledge than I could muster for these conversations but he assured me that I was a pleasant companion and not to be replaced.  He seemed to regard me and all of humanity with quiet awe and genuine affection.

Within a week, the world knew of K’Chul-Kan.  There was a furor from the self-important leaders of the world that he shunned their presence, but we, the common folk, gathered in droves.  We must have appeared to the world as a cult of ragtag followers worshipping a giant from outer space.  It was as though he were an evangelist that sat upon a fancy chair under a huge tent of fabric and steel and we crowded the pulpit in curiosity and wonder.

The media asked the questions we all wanted answered and he would ration out information between the greetings he acknowledged to visitors from all over the world.  We knew in the vicinity of at least 100 million light years of his point of origin – of which he commented that at least he was born within our supercluster – which meant nothing to me at the time.  He gave us a holographic view of a marvelous intergalactic needle-shaped ship that threaded an orbit between Mars and Earth.  K’Chul-Kan introduced us to his ‘long-boat that had taken him to shore’, — he liked to use analogies familiar to us so that we would feel more comfortable in his presence, though he seemed to have a fondness for the more archaic expressions.   For many it was scarier than if he had come as an alien wanting war or the surrendering of our planet.  We all quietly wondered how long we must have been studied; his knowledge of us seemed limitless.

He was not very open with the details of his ship that sailed in the deep dark of our inner system but he allowed the world media a trip through his lander.

Along with seven reporters from the major world networks, I was allowed to board it as an honored guest of the captain himself.  The interior of the lander was darkly lit, as K’Chul-Kan seemed to shun the brighter lights.  He warned us that his living conditions used a higher concentration of oxygen than we were used to but that it would cause us no harm.  The smell inside was almost clinical without the underlying alcohol scent, merely clean and crisp.  It was surprising that the entire lander was pretty much one open space.

The biggest shock was seeing two baboon-like creatures with metal joints and curious tubing running around and throughout their bodies sitting in two solid metallic chairs.  They were apparently running diagnostics on strange floating screens filled with scrolling lines of information.  The creatures completely ignored us, and K’Chul-Kan reassured us that even though they might look savage to us, they were merely a combination of organic and physical science his race had created as servants.  They were resilient and self-sufficient, he told us, and completely reliable.

I suspected that they were the means for some of our odd travels around the globe.  Whomever K’Chul-Kan wished to travel with him would instantaneously appear with him wherever he had desired.  All that we experienced, besides the shock of simply being somewhere else in the blink of an eye, was a resounding popping noise within our heads, and instantly we were somewhere else.

He gave us a rare smile, and I felt that he was amused at how magical his sciences must seem to us.  As if to amplify that fact, he called out a command and behind where each person stood the floor seemed to turn malleable and raise up in a mound, then dent slightly at the top.  We recognized them as the sort of chairs that the creatures were sitting in.  K’Chul-Kan’s sat on an obviously larger bulge of metal and it slowly maneuvered itself to fit his distinct features.  Everyone then tentatively took their own seats; the amazement on our faces must have been obvious as the hard metal softened to shape itself into the most comfortable mold for each of us.

As to why he had visited our little blue rock, he never gave us a distinct answer.  Instead he would explain to us how he loved our history and culture, his quiet awe at the love we had for each other.  He was amazed at how we could destroy one another.  He had taken quite an interest in philosophy, why we believed what we believed, and why we all believed differently in essentially the same beliefs.  His confusing answers echoed how confusing our behavior must seem to anyone from outside our earthly realm.  He saw us as complicated in our simplicity.  He stated that we pored more over philosophy and governing ideals than some multi-species galaxies governed their own quadrants of space.

After ten days of knowing K’Chul-Kan he surprised us all with a call for a news conference that needed the immediate attention of every single person of the world.  He said he had news to share with us and that he would give us two days to set up all of the media power that was needed to make it a broadcast heard “round the world”.  He would not share anything of his news with me but to tell me that it was good news for everyone.

On the twelfth day of K’Chul-Kan’s visit he stood high above us all as cameras zoomed and microphones bobbed from specially made dollies and cranes.  He was a sight to behold.

“My friends,” he began.  “as you all know, I have come from across the depths of cold space.  I have traveled through places beyond your imagination and knowledge.  I have landed here on this gentle planet.”  He dropped his head reverently as his voice echoed across the miles, through valleys and cities, across fields and skyscrapers.  His speech was carried everywhere on the planet.

“I have come bearing… a gift.  My gift is not a small token.  It is a gift that will change how every single person on this planet will live for all of eternity.  I give this gift on one condition, and that condition I will ask for later.”  I noticed many in the crowd exchanging curious glances.

“My species has discovered and conquered many sciences in our time.  We have made amazing breakthroughs and now we travel through space sharing our knowledge where we can.”  He raised his hand in a warning gesture.  “We also know that some sciences simply cannot be handed over to races ignorant of the consequences.  So, yes, we do not, we will not, share certain aspects of it.  But we can enable you to find that knowledge on your own.”  He paused for a beat.

“I have come to grant immortality to the race of mankind.”

For the first time in what could be millennium, the world was silent, a silence that resonated with anxiety and fear.  Was this a trick?  What did he mean?  But no one could voice their questions.  It seemed that this reaction did not surprise K’Chul-Kan.  In fact, he seemed amused by it.

“You have heard me correctly; I am going to make you, all of you, immortal.”

The cheer that rose from every throat filled the silent void to overflowing.  He had proven nothing but every single being believed him.  He had become an instant savior to billions of people and yet they did not understand how this was to be.  We could not comprehend what immortality was.

“I will not put this to a vote.  I will not ask your permission.”  His voice was giving gruff commands, but no one noticed in their enthusiastic celebration.

“Beginning tonight, in one hour, the spores that will react with your bodies will be released into the atmosphere.  Within 3 hours after that, every one of you will find that you cannot die by normal methods.  You will find that you can sever your hand and it will grow back.  You can be stabbed in the heart and it will heal.  You can and will still feel pain, but you, my friends, will heal.  You will live forever.”

What had been a deafening roar earlier was now made a weak effort, for the cries and shouts of victory over Death were loud enough to chase the specter and his scythe away permanently.

“Now, listen, my young friends,” he continued when the roar finally subsided.  “There are still details of which you must know before this all takes place.  You in the world that are old and feeble, your bodies will clamor with youth again, but you will still look the age you are now.  You are now eternal elders, and this I cannot change.  You worried mothers out there, do not.  The children you carry will grow to adulthood but age no farther than that.  And yes, you can still bear children –I have not stunted the growth of this fantastic planet.”

He stared out sagely at the audience watching through the fisheye lens.  “Has anyone the most important question yet?  Has anyone figured it out?  This is the time when your science will grow in leaps and bounds.  Think of this, my friends: you will not die yet you can still give birth.  Your planet’s resources cannot withstand that level of growth without entropy.  You must find your ways to the planets and the stars.  You must evolve your minds rapidly or you all will suffer.  Look up to the skies, there is your new horizon.  There is your new playground, children.”

The spores fell as he had predicted and we grew immortal as promised.  Of course he hadn’t mentioned the pain that came with immortality.  We suffered greatly as our DNA was enhanced and altered.  We could feel the sickle shape of our blood as it was changed and affected by sciences we could not comprehend.  But we did live through it, and we would forever.

That next morning, K’Chul-Kan approached the cameras again.  “Welcome to eternity,” he said.  His smile was kind but not as robust as the previous night.  “I now state my simple condition for giving you immortality.  I ask for three humans to travel with me as my guests through the voids of space.   I know who I would like to go with me, and I ask for them to accompany me now as I leave.  I would like the accompaniment of Jared Furst, Lorna Clayton and the honorable, Calvin Trimble.”  The other two recruits appeared next to me instantly.

I am Jared Furst.  And I left with K’Chul-Kan.

While waiting for K’Chul-Kan to let us enter for his lander we all became more familiar with each other.   Lorna was a major movie star and one of the most beautiful women on the planet – many young men with dreams of grandeur would mourn her leaving.  Calvin Trimble was a simple man that had made worldwide acclaim through his acts of peaceful resolution throughout the world.  His acceptance of the Nobel Peace Prize had made headlines when he dedicated it to his son that had been lost in the last middle-eastern war.  That area now lived in peace because of Calvin’s eloquence at getting disparate parties to converse in civil tones.

Lorna and Calvin had only seen K’Chul-Kan on television, so they were amazed and frightened to be standing next to him.  Their rage at being taken without their consent withered when his shadow blanketed over them.  K’Chul-Kan was large by any standard available on Earth.  He stood a towering twelve feet tall and weighed at least half of a ton.

He stood next to his ship and the world looked upon him one last time.  His clothing looked more like a uniform or protective suit of some kind that had a military-type lack of character, seeming more suited to function than fashion.  It was a black material that resisted any wrinkles when he straightened from a sitting position.  The collar and sleeves ended in metal collars as though helmet and gloves could attach if he needed to become space-bound.  The pant legs were tucked into massive boots that looked like a soft material with hardened sole.  He gave a wave to the cameras as the entrance way opened.

While we followed his enormous bulk through the entrance I watched the back of his massive head.  From under the suit came a flap that attached to the back of his neck and skullcap.  I could see the faint outlines of pockets throughout his clothing but the openings to those pockets were not obvious.

I stopped in shock; the interior of the lander was different.  Walls and long hallways existed where before there had been open space.  After seeing the wizardry of the morphing chairs, I suppose I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was.  Growing somewhat numb, I followed the rest of the group down the new hallway.  He motioned for us to follow him into a room that opened at the end of the hall.

K’Chul-Kan watched our reactions to his bridge and smiled.  Having spent the most time with him, I had learned many of his non-human mannerisms but most of his actions were very human and easy to understand.  His face, upon closer inspection, looked as though it were chipped from gray stone.  His skin had a crumpled texture to it that from a distance looked smooth but was really finely faceted as if from the work of an artisan with a small chisel that had not found the time to sand his skin smooth.

His upper lip was a lumpy elephant hide of vertical ridges, looking like a moustache of folded flesh.  His ears were dimples on each side of his hairless head but seemed to be able to pick up sounds at extraordinary levels.  Many times since the night I first met him I had been the target of his penetrating, and very human, clear blue eyes.

“Welcome aboard the longboat, my shin-zen-bin.”  He gestured broadly in a very human way, opening of his arms, as if to gather us into his grasp.  “We will be leaving shortly.  What would you like to make you more comfortable as we depart?”

I believe we all stifled flippant remarks of returning back home to enjoy our new immortality.  I was the first to speak.  “What is shin-zen-bin?”  Afraid it would translate to pet or slave.  If only that had been true.  We would soon enough learn that either of those titles would have been a relief.

“I have taken an interest in your philosophies to be sure, but the Asian philosophies have truly attracted my attention.  Shin-zen-bin is truth, goodness and beauty.  You Jared are my truth, Calvin is goodness, and Lorna you are my beauty.  In order to begin mastering the art of bonsai, I should possess truth, goodness and beauty.”

With that he made a small gesture on one of the snaking controls that extruded from the ceiling and all went black.  Instantaneously, we were asleep.  It was a dreamless sleep.  It was the last peaceful sleep of our immortal lives.

We awoke to pain.  We would have pain from now on, forever.

While we slept we had been offloaded to his grand ship and transported to a chamber of sorts.  It was more a garden.  It was a painfully pristine white that glared from the walls, soft sounds of tiny waterfalls could be heard from all directions.  It felt as though we were in a holy chamber, where a dome glass ceiling constructed of intricately cut pieces let heavenly light through in broken rays and beams.

We were bound together.  A steel pole rose from the floor a few feet from the dead-center of the chamber and I was tied to it.  Lorna was on my left, our legs attached by bindings, my left to her right.  Her hip was bound to mine but her upper body was tied out to the extreme left, leaving her upper torso horizontal to the ground.  Calvin’s body was what was giving us our pain.  He had been attached not to the pole but to us, most of his weight resting on Lorna’s outstretched body.  His head rested on my left shoulder and our throats were bound together.  His hands were waving frantically as he awoke, his movements choking us both.  Lorna cried out in pain from Calvin’s thrashing.

“My little ones awake.”  K’Chul-Kan had been standing behind us where we could not turn to look.  He came around and studied us while our fear sent us all into frenzied twisting and pulling, increasing our distress and pain.  “Don’t worry, soon you will not need to be bound as you are now.  Nor will ropes be needed to hold you.”

We had to look ridiculous the way we were tied up, but our eyes were frightened, bulging orbs. A seat morphed itself up from the floor and K’Chul-Kan sat quietly in front of us.  “I have given your kind a gift.  You can heal from nearly anything except a severe disturbance to your complete cellular structure.  Right now on your planet, your people are learning wonderful things.”

“Imagine how much of the medical fields will disappear overnight.  Lifesaving medicines are no longer needed.  What was once ill is healed, what was once feeble is strong, what was once before… is no more.”

I’m sure we could have spoken at any moment, more to the point, I’m sure we still had the ability to speak, but our pain and anticipation of where his discussion was going kept us silent and shivering.

“Your rebellious youth will be the first ones to discover other aspects of your gift.  Piercings and tattoos will be outdated decorations for the body.  Now they can adorn themselves with whatever their imaginations desire.  They can replace their fingers with needle tips, bear spines of steel spikes like a porcupine.  Your government will advance this knowledge to new heights by implanting devices into agents never dreamt of before.  There is no more worry about the body rejecting an organism, so why couldn’t a man carry weapons beneath his skin so that he is always at the ready?”

“Let me show you.”  He arose in one motion and in his large hand carried a stylized clipper like a gardener would use.  He bent over to look me right in the eye.  “Jared, this will pain you greatly.”  He snipped my right thumb off and I made my first vocal sound since awakening.  I remember my head spinning slightly and I was gasping quickly as he casually explained, “When your hand stops bleeding, you will see that it will begin to scab over quite quickly compared to your old metabolism.”  I could crane my neck ever so slightly and see my severed thumb, the blood it released a great contrast on the white floor.

“That scab that grows though, will actually be a blastema, it will be raw flesh that holds the memory of what was lost and will re-grow that thumb.  Your salamanders and lizards have done a rudimentary type of regeneration like this for millions of years.  But you, my friends, have evolved very, very quickly.”  He made an emphasis on the word ‘evolved’, but I couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm or disdain that steered it.

Most of what he had said was sinking in and I needed to concentrate to keep my mind from the pain.  “But what about my thumb, won’t it try and re-grow the rest of my body?”  I had quick visions of clones of me running around and the same happening all over the planet.

K’Chul-Kan chuckled.  “That is a splendid question, Jared.  No, your thumb is dead now.  We won’t even get into your scientists’ flawed ideas about quantum particles and entanglement.  But let us just imagine it as your body is completely covered with tiny flies that talk to each other constantly.  When I cut your thumb off, the flies that were on your thumb fell off also, but they know how to get home.  So once the thumb hit the floor, the flies left it, flew back to their little fly family and said, ‘The thumb is dead, we need another one.’.  Now if you were to explode into tiny bits, the flies would be scattered, but they would keep in constant communication with each other, buzzing back and forth figuring out which parts should grow new parts until you are mended back to whole again.”

I could never shake the image of black flies controlling our healing process.  I could always hear the buzzing as body parts were removed.  The pain was relentless, the cutting relentless, we only endured because we had no other choice.  There was nothing to give up, our lives were eternal now– our pain unbearable, yet permanent was our existence.  As you pass the boundaries of what the mind can endure, the mind compensates through insanity.  There was our escape.  But living as immortals that heal through every calamity, the mind also corrects itself so that our escape from reality was always short-lived.

At times my thoughts lived on a different level than my body so that I could wax philosophical on the strangest of realizations.  You would think that the removal of your genitalia would be the most horrific and painful maiming, and yet, they were removed with a single gruesome slice, but the snipping of my toes were the worst.  The dreaded expectation as each toe was methodically clipped off; these were the exercises that would drive me once again insane, babbling incoherently, crying like a terrified child.

K’Chul-Kan was most pleased with our progress, and pleased too with his own transformation into an artist.  He would stare at us for hours.  In our agony we had become a thing of beauty to him.  Where he would clip us and cut us he would bind us together in distorted ways so that we would heal into a single tree of flesh and pain.

What he did not understand was that by melding our bodies together we had also melded internally.  Before, we had experienced our terror and pain as individuals sharing the same horrific fate, now we were a single organism of mutual feeling, thought and agony.  Even in the times when he would seal our mouths because our blithering and wailing grated his patience, internally we could still communicate to each other but as one.  It was a shared insanity where we would lose ourselves into a single being, and yet still be able to separate our thoughts and stake claim to our individuality when we felt like fighting for it.

Throughout this eternity of pain we have no dreams of rescue.  We know our fate.    In our stoic garden of white we are a testament and witness to the wickedness that one can do to another.  The only consolation that we can take out of this is the idea of immortality for the rest of Mankind.  We hold hope in our people, we dream of their stories.

Shin-zen-bin is truth, goodness and beauty.  We do not possess that here.  But we can hope that the ones we have left behind can find that trinity of enlightenment.  All we can do is hope.

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