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The Nuremberg Codes

(and saturday blueberry cakes)

Saturdays turned into another zombie fest. Its not enough that I switch off my brain Monday to Friday, but Saturday too...Saturdays I'm sold to the devil. Sometimes I imagine of the Nazi human experiments during world war two. Some flashes of gory mangled human bodies, I imagine, sometimes on the way to work, while watching movies, while eating my customary Saturday blueberry cakes. Some other times I wish I was there to shoot and kill those Nazi bastards who did all this. So after the mass murder, mass euphoria, mass protest and mass trials, came the Nuremberg Code which sets a set of rules for human experimentation. Its an informative read, just follow the link. The rest is fiction.

So a few hundred thousands years after evolution, humans decided to accelerate evolution and experiment on their counterparts. Part of the legalized experiments, in the doctors fraternity was to pluck the eyes off some lonesome tourist on a backpacking trip around the world. It was a cruel day, a sad day, it was a beautiful day for the tourist, who saw the sky slightly dark grey and the autumn leaves falling swiftly following the ballads of the breeze. Then after a few photographs, a sketch and a few pages of travel scribble, the decided to munch on a piece of turkey sandwich. A sudden flash, some smokes, he passed out. He woke up in a room, lit by a dirt, dusty yellow bulb. He was tied to a bed. He struggled to move his head, and the moment he turned his head to the left he saw a metal tray lined with extra polished weapons of mass dissection. Okay, that's cruel, it was surgery tools. He cried. He was told about these kidnappers before he left. He cried, and passed out.

He was in his twenties, supposed to be doing something with his life. But he loved to photograph stuff. The lights, colors, the shades of the evening was beautiful. Once he snapped a pink orange sunset and managed to sell the photo for 5 grand's. He applied for a passport and the next week he was on a flight to some European country. The castles on the hills and mountains after mountains covered with majestic pine trees. He stood there all evening, many evenings just writing stuff, capturing photo's. He befriended some estate gardeners and managed to stay for free at huge estates, in those abandoned castles. Something from the colonial age relic, like some old movie where they fight for women. Romantic, but he was lonely. And then came the rains, torrential, then drizzles and then fog, thick at some places, and thin orange colored at some distances. It was heaven. Extraordinary, how could this ever be natural. But now it was all gone.

He woke up and saw a few masked faces starring at him. They said something in German. And then there was sharp sting on his arms, slowly his eyes blurred, like water washing down mirrors, many mirrors he witnessed from his warm castle room, then fogs and then darkness. It was ages, if not eternity. One day, he woke up, it was a room with a bed and table, and a small window. Something is amiss, his eyes still blurred. He was supposed to be in a castle, in a 15th century medieval castle, but all around him where equipments of many kinds. Then the sharp pain, something tugging his eyeballs. Fear seeped deep into his stomach, then spread all over him. Could it be, that his eyes were taken out. But how could he see then? He walked slowly around the room, then to the table. There was a mirror on the table. He picked it up, and reluctantly brought it infront of his face. To his ultimate horror, one of his eye sockets were empty. Just a round, empty hole, like some golf hole. He fainted.

Years went past, days grew older, castles degraded. Mountains made way to homes, then camps, then war fields, and finally wastelands. The nuclear winter and radioactive fog decimated many countries. Trees died, seas polluted, frozen rotten corps all around. Machina woke him up one morning. He got down from bed and tapped the computer on his left. Machina read the news headlines, then the weather report and then finally made coffee. It was a funny combination, but he grew beyond it. It was Saturday. He bathed, picked up his stuff, packed his backpack, inserted Machina's cpu into his watch and then walked to the Maglev station. He drank the coffee, but not all of it. He wanted to stay hungry for the blueberry cake. The cafeteria is open all day, even when the university turns into a ghost city at the end of the weeks. Most of the students will either be on out of town trips, or with the Doctors Sans Frontiers, searching the countryside and lake estates for the sick. The legacies of the meltdown. The nuclear war.

The blue berry cake was excellent. Something funny, his glass eyes will twitch everytime he eats the cake. Every Saturday. He was lucky to get his eye treated. But he lost it forever, and the corporation gave him a new one. A glass eyes, able to zoom far and deep, but he never turned it on. He would only enable the normal vision lenses. Machina was well programmed with his preferences. After the cake, he walked into the woods, reminiscent of his traveling days. The fog, the pine, and then he comes to a log house. It looked ordinary, smoke coming out of its stack, yellow light on the windows. Radiation shielding all around. He walked in, and then proceeded to the laboratory elevator at the back. The red orange and green buttons took him twenty stories below ground. He greeted the professor and walked to his science station. He docked his watch to the work station and Machina came online to sort out the days schedule. Today, he will look into the Hubble deep field survey photo's.

I got his mail today. The office is cold, I am stuck here since last night. Wanted to go home, but then the rain flooded the streets. All this hours I was reading his reports, his time jump stories, his journeys and results. These are tough times. The manifolds are mysterious, but again easily accessible. That means we need to keep all evil elements out. The military, the armies, they would wage wars on shadows. The professors research was safe for individual jumps. It was the voyages, the new worlds that intrigued me. The same people, alternate histories, alternate worlds. Still we are not invincible. The best thing about time travel is that we get to decipher codes. The lost codes, the earth mysteries. Various alternative history, gives many data. Data's gathered and processed by the professor. Then we established the Mars Life theory, the evolution of humans, solved crimes, predicted weather.

The transistor was playing all day, an ambiance setting, the setting sun, the rain, the deep night, sunrise, then the foggy morning. Rob Costlow's piano ensemble was magical. Almost seeping into the music of the soul. She came in a few minutes after that. And I packed my stuff and we went home. It was still raining till the evening. The day was perfect, wish it would last forever. Still the intermittent images of violent experiments flashes in my head. She drove the car, played some song, didn't say a word. Then she asked me something, her voice not breaking the imagery, it was not chaotic, but blended nicely with the day. I took her hand and kissed it, held it and looked at the rainy day. Reached home an hour later, the day was getting old, the young night releasing its pawns, the stars.

I sat in front on the fireplace, the burning wood, looked like simulated animation, probably the cold climate restricting its particle movements. My mailbox revealed messages from the professor and a solitary mail from Machina. Its been weeks since she mailed me. I knew he found something. She placed a plate of blueberry cake beside the laptop. The message was amazing. I knew this would be true. I plucked my fingers into the cake, she starred at me. I smiled, laughed, it was great news. They discovered the multiverse. I scribbled a few words on the soft screen and ended it with "Thank you, Gp". The reply came in a few minutes. She rested her head on me, her silky dark hair, her warmth. I looked out of the window, the fog enveloped most of the mountain. The tallest pines and redwood guiding them, fabricating a strange symphony. I read the message...'see you soon buddy, yours truly' and signed of with ' As always...Ghost'. And the day sailed by, into the majestic, mysterious, gallant night.

[-] Another time travel short story. Hope you like it. Have a nice weekend.

Comments

S.Karthikeyan said…
How can I forget you and your blog. Your blog is in daily doze list :-)
Mike said…
Hi GP:

Good writing, but a little disturbing, buddy. Hope you have a great weekend!
QUASAR9 said…
Yah GP Cool!
Thanks for the blackberries

You have agreat weekend too! - Q.
---
Nahuatl said…
as mike said, good but traveler's part not fair
To be honest, because I havent read a lot of your posts, I didnt pick up the gist of the article. Nicely written..and in my opinion war, destruction, carnage and cruelty towards an other life arises out of the mind. Mind being logical tries to question things and always has a 'why not' for 'why'. If only we can listen to their hearts through the mind. And whats with the blueberry cake? :-)

M.
V N said…
We loved it, GP!
Have a gr8 Sunday!!
:)
Kavi said…
Man ! Cool piece Yet again ! War & cruelty is no solution. Never has been. Never will be.
Keshi said…
war sucks..and the fact that many dont get that, sucks too.

Keshi.
Jeevan said…
Got a nice reading GP! wish u a greatweek.

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