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INTERVIEW WITH AN IMMORTAL: (A short story by Jose Diaz)

“Squee-click! Thud! Shuffle, shuffle!”

Luis Diaz: “December fourteenth, Session one, Luis Diaz, interviewing Vox.”

“Prologue.”

“Vox is the leader of a group of four humanoids who arrived on Earth nine months ago today. Their flying stages create captivating performances of light and music. After surprising the human race in several small cities they went on to battle most if not all of the earth’s military forces. Those who opposed them now lie in defeat across the globe and the benevolence of these visitors has finally become apparent to any and all who would call themselves defenders of this world.”

“Shuffle…Click.”

Luis: “Where do you come from?”

Vox: “Everywhere.”

Luis: “Can you elaborate?”

Vox: “There is little that elaboration can explain to you Luis. We were there when your ancestors uttered their first sounds. We were there when they first screamed, slapped their hands together, stomped their feet, and beat sticks together or on fallen logs, rocks, or themselves.”

Luis: “How old are you?”

Vox: “Time, for us, is for the most part an irrelevance. We only have to give it attention when we must deal with you or any other worlds. It is an annoyance that crawls along at a rate determined by locality of mass. Outside of its constraints possibilities become infinite.”

Luis: “How many of you are there?”

Vox: “Five.”

Luis: “We’ve only seen four. Where is the fifth?”

Vox: “She is currently three billion light-years away watching a hoard of black holes collide.”

Luis: “What is she called?”

Vox: “When she arrives, you will call her Synthia.”

Luis: “I see.” “scribble, scribble, scratch, plick!” “Female?”

Vox: “The last Female.”

Luis: “What happened to the others?”

Vox: “This universe is unforgiving of weakness. In the beginning there were trillions of us. We were born along with existence. We evolved with the early universe and learned to exist in harmony with it. Our perception is a thought of totality. From the singularity that ruptured in the past, to the singularity or the dimensional evolution that might occur in the future, we see all that has happened, all that is happening, and all that will happen, in infinite possibility, as one moment with no passage of time. In the process of forming our own wisdoms many of our kind fell into battle with each other. Those simply expended their energies and cancelled one another out. Others thought themselves’ indestructible and found out too late that they were not. Their essence is evenly distributed into all five of us.”

Luis: “So, would you admit that you are a violent race?”

Vox: “You have seen our capacity for it just as well as we have seen yours. We take no pleasure in the billions we destroyed, yet your military leaders took certain pleasure in throwing their best against us. Violence is a capacity shared by many forms of life.”

Luis: “Are you alive?”

Vox: “I have near infinite control of the matter that sits before you. You have limited control over the matter that you are made of. There are energies animating us both. Life cannot exist without energy. Yes, I am.

Luis: “Your music is now listened to around the world. How and why did you come here? What is so special about us?”

Vox: “That you exist is what is so special first and foremost. We don’t know how long you will last but we intend to learn as much as we can about you. You have existed for such a short time thus far and like so many others before you, you will cease to exist at some point in the future.”

Luis: “I don’t suppose you can tell me the future of our world?”

Vox: “The possibilities are endless and thus, your lifetime multiplied a trillion-fold is not long enough to disseminate it all. I will tell you that along some bifurcations you may do great things.”

Luis: “So there is hope for we humans?”

Vox: “There must always be hope.”

Luis: “I agree. So, how did you find the human race?”

Vox: “You were never lost so we were never looking for you. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Vox/Luis: “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

Vox: “There are only a few electronic transmissions that we’ve missed. They never really decay to zero energy so we might pick them up along some line of the future you could say. Piezo-tectonic noise was all we had from this world until you came along. When you developed your sciences and started fiddling around with stones we noticed. Even two small stones in a person’s hands hit together produce enough static for us to notice.”

Luis: “So, even a task as simple as starting a fire with flint-stones, you can hear?”

Vox: “There are ripples across the electromagnetic spectrum and beyond that translate into sharp images for us. For example; Errga is crouched over a pile of sticks and grasses. It’s snowing and he is shivering with cold. He is striking the two stones together. With each impact I see a few seconds of him in motion. Between each strike he is an image frozen. He tries to start his fire until the stones are too small to use. Then the snow turns into wet sleet. He throws the stones into the wood pile one at a time and walks away to find more stones. That is the last walk he ever takes. I never see him again until an earthquake shows me his petrified bones in southern Siberia. Right now there is a partial mandible and a trio of phalanges of Errga in the collection of an amateur archeologist in Moscow. ”

Luis: “A failed ancestor?”

Vox: “By all means no. He was proliferating enough to have some DNA still active today. You have a few snippet’s from him.”

Luis: “When did you decide to come here?”

Vox: “Even after your first true electromagnetic transmissions went out, we waited. We watched and listened until you reached the point at which you could easily destroy yourselves. We came here to prevent you from shortening your existence.”

Luis: “To save us then?”

Vox: “From yourselves.”

Luis: “I guess we kind of looked the gift horse in the mouth?”

Vox: “Yes, an act repeated quite a few times throughout your history.”

Luis: “No doubt.”

Vox: “We never doubted you would reach epiphany.”

Luis: “How does your music work?”

Vox: “We control the flow of energies thru manifested matter. What you hear is what we are thinking. My voice is as much my thoughts as it is sound. My stage simply amplifies what I think and say.”

Luis: “I guess what I meant to ask was how you make music with so much emotional impact?”

Vox: “From the first note so long ago in your past, to the last note a moment ago, we have listened to your music. It is a treasure trove of your emotions from which we can pull inspiration for what we do. Every song we have given you was given with a clearly defined set of purposes. There is no one song that will unite your entire world but we aim to have as far reaching an influence as possible. The more of you we can have an effect on with a song, the better. Since the future is an infinite array of possibilities, we are simply trying to guide you along the safest route with music. If our work is successful, your world might enjoy a long existence.”

Luis: “, and if you fail?”

Vox: “We can only try our best not to fail.”

Luis: “I can hear the band striking up Vox. I extend my thanks to you for this interview and to your companions for their patience as well.”

Vox: “You are most welcome. Our patience with your world will never run out.”

Luis: “Epilogue.”

“scoot! Scoot! Rustle, rustle, rustle. Clop! Clop! Clop! Pap! Plump, plump, plump.”

“Vox is leaving the room now and boarding his flying stage. He and his group will give a show this evening over Central Park here in New York later today. Before our interview I met with the entire band and learned that this evening’s show would debut a handful of all new songs.”

“Clop. Clop. Clop. Clop.”

“I am now looking out the window over Manhattan towards Central Park as the five stages drift in that direction. I can feel the music thru the window and hear it in my head clearly. Searchlights are slicing through the dusk sky.”

“Boom! Boom!”

“A fifth stage has just dropped out of the sky and joined the formation. If I am correct, Synthia has arrived. Guitar, Bass, Drum, and Vox are now believed to be joined by keyboards.”

“Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Shish! Shish!”

“I need to transcribe this for the Post A.S.A.P.!”

“Squee-clack!”