10/05/2022

 

 

The Hats

A Novelette?

 

Some GOOD music as you read?

Sure. Give it a crank

 

 

Those aliens - silver-tongued devils, every one. Earth has been waiting for the other shoe to drop for fifty years, now. It never has. The Avaraki have not turned Earth into a vacation paradise, just yet, but they're working on it...

 

The first thing the Avaraki did was distribute the hats. Dream, weavers. The hats are the Avaraki equivalent of a video. The video is experienced, not seen and heard. Communication with the people of Earth was established... and how!

 

Livetube.com. THE monster, of sites. As the library of human experiences grew they were placed on livetube, for download. Wanna... drive a top fuel dragster, down the quarter mile strip? (One of my favorites) Wanna sing your acapela at madison square gardens, in front of a roaring crowd? Wanna fight, in WW2?

 

Only one 'cult classic' has yet to emerge. The most popular 'experience' on livetube.com is 'CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA' You can 'live' on either side - the mindless, though patriotic rebels, or the American defenders.

 

This was the first of few experiences developed to their full potential. Standard play is not interactive, as almost always, with an experience. In advanced play you can make choices, in the experience. I never tried getting into a car and driving to Chicago...

 

Real mode can be protected, or not. If it is the experience runs on a five second delay. If something ugly happens to you it will cause the experience to gently end. If unprotected you can die, in your experience. I haven't tried that, ether.

 

The aliens showed up at work. They use machines that constitute matter, and very accurately. Like a food replicator, in Star Trek, but seemingly without limits.

 

The flow of hogs was stopped. When the lines ran out of meat the workers assembled in a parking lot, across the street. When everyone was out; when all the trucks were pulled away from the docks, we watched, as the plant disappeared. Within seconds another, very different plant appeared. We were instructed to let the hogs in. The trucks were backed into the docks.

 

Sure enough, in about half an hour, product was being loaded onto the reefer trucks. All in a day's work, if you're an Avaraki, I suppose. For me, it was the day and time my world fell apart. I knew I would have to first try to define the new world, in which I then lived, and try to adapt, to it. At that point, never would I have believed my major problem in adapting to my new environment would be boredom.

 

The new plant is, of course, completely automated. At some point, one of the workers said we were out of a job. In a few minutes an Avaraki came to us. We were informed our paychecks would arrive in our banks, just like always. It (almost impossible to determine the sex of an Avaraki) gave quite a speech, saying money and all things financial, would soon be things, of the past. Now I look at my personal replicator, realizing I can have anything I want, any time I want it, and be rid of it, just as easily... (I am rather fond of my Audemars Piguet Royal Oak watch .)

 

My last forte into the CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA experience was a doozy! From the characters on offer, I picked a functionary (agent) involved in infiltrating the rebels. I lived in interactive, expert, protected mode. First time, for me.

 

It began as marches. Marches, of course, turned into riots. Eventually, the riots, which had turned into literal photo ops for self-proclaimed militia groups and their arsenals, were put down. Then, all hell broke loose.

 

Quickly realizing the folly of confronting the enemy head on, gorilla warfare began. My role began as a group of good 'ole boys from Terre Haute, Indiana; patriots; veterans, all, sat around a table, swilling beer and planning their attack. I was the mole.

 

There's a big bunch of transformers there, on Darwin road, just south of 70. I think they take the power from the main grid, there, then step it down and send it into Terre Haute.

 

Yeah, we could use a Tim Bomb. Diesel and anhydrous ammonia. Just back the truck into their place, get the hell away from it, then boom. Nobody's ever there at night.

 

I made my contact, that evening. I warned them. I described it as a plan, seeming to attract approval. I was thanked. Action, though not immediate, was planned. If the boys got there, they might find they were not, alone :)

 

Boy, did I screw up. The thing blew up, three nights later. And the lights went out. Turns out, transformers like that aren't in some warehouse, somewhere. They have to be built. There's a waiting list.

 

Never had such an act of terrorism been accomplished, on American soil. We celebrated.

 

Things were tried. Like somehow 'jumpering' power from somewhere, close by. It didn't happen. Terre Haute was three weeks to three months from seeing it's power return. The situation was horrendous.

 

In the wink of an eye, tens of thousands of people were, effectively, homeless. Criminals, of course, were more than willing to take advantage, of the situation. The police were going nuts. People were being shot by others, defending their homes, then taken to hospitals, running on their emergency generators.

 

Then the police were attacked. An obviously orchestrated trap, masquerading as an ordinary call. Backup was called in. In all, nine officers were shot through their heads, with hunting rifles using night vision. Their bodies were dragged into the street and left, face down.

 

Our group had a hand in that too. Scary thing is, some people from another group were involved, as well. I 'called it in,' of course. Next day, I got a 'call.' A first.

 

I'm sorry, (redacted), but it happened, last night. I wanted to be the person that told you.

 

Why?

 

We missed the ball on the last one. This one, too. I know how you feel. And if you don't think I don't feel the same way... never mind. You know I do.

 

I didn't call to cheer you up. Someone, somewhere, has that job. Oh, how I wish it was me! Anyway, I called to bring you up to speed; to get you back, on track.

 

Am I off track?

 

You tell me. If you're not, it's my job to prevent that from happening. If you are, I can't blame you. You're new. You don't know our... ways.

 

I am going to tell you something - something important. Like yourself, (redacted), I'm a fan of simplicity. I considered that, as I thought about the best way to communicate this to you. It's important. Are you ready?

 

Who knows? Shoot.

 

If I knew only what you know, I would be making the same decisions you make. If only you knew what I know, you would be making the same decisions I make.

 

Well, there's one, simple solution.

 

What's that?

 

Go ahead and tell me the rest of it - the stuff I don't know. I have a few minutes. Do you? Go ahead and tell me, now.

 

ASS HOLE We laughed, and laughed.

 

The lines at gas stations around Terre Haute were half an hour long, at a good time. All the small-town stores kept running out of everything. The little city was a ghost town when day lit and a jungle, at night. The police were very cautious and prone to shoot people, when they perhaps should not have.

 

It happened slowly, at first, then seemingly all at once. People simply left. Soon the reporters outnumbered the locals. Everyone, it seemed, evaluated where they could go, and took their best shot. Property owners, of course, would return. But the rest?

 

Meanwhile (back at the ranch) copycat attacks were springing up, all across the Mid and North West. Body parts from little kids, caught up in mall bombings, were having to be found, then matched up with likely looking torsos, before being placed in body bags.

 

The experiences are just that - experiences. They do not take you over. They last from ten to fifteen minutes, the length of time seeming to have been spent inside the experience, notwithstanding.

 

It occurred to me I was having the experience, in order to enjoy it, which I was not. I was watching the society that supported my life, fall apart. Other things, as well, came to mind. I have no idea of how to survive, let alone live, outside a society. Were that situation to be imposed, my chances of survival would, therefore, not be good.

 

I ended the experience, prematurely.

 

Now I do my best to end it, in this reality.

 

Ok... OK! The Avaraki have not favored us, with their presence. We are not wearing hats. (Well, we are, but that's another story.) The environment we are experiencing is real. Terminating the experience permanently involves blowing your brains out - a bit over the top...

 

But, what a fun concept? No - not blowing your brains out. WAKE UP! You're not paying attention. The Hats. The experiences. I'm working on doing articles that contain two threads, you see...

 

We gotta do one more. One more 'experience.'

 

From the characters on offer, I picked a mid-level officer in the central command of the United States military. I was level three, in a filtration group. 'Things' came to my attention. I could, and sometimes did deal with some of those 'things.' If not, I could refer the information up the ladder, or not. Things could 'die on my desk,' but it never happened.

 

The hell breaking loose in the streets paled, pitifully, before the tsunami-like convulsion occurring in the US military. Obviously, people wearing your uniform are on the other side. To some degree. And a few may not be honest, about that degree...

 

In hindsight, the way to defeat the US military was to first infiltrate it, then jerk the rug, right out from underneath it. And it worked.

 

It was exactly at that time the US military was called upon, to maintain order, in the streets. Talk about your perfect storm. Soldiers were being interviewed. Those deemed to have opinions similar to the rebels were assigned to duty in another country. But it took TIME - time, the military did not have.

 

The response from the military was slow, ponderously so, as Cities like Milwaukee and Portland burned. The blacks had become an issue, as well.

 

It would seem as if radical blacks saw the civil war as an opportunity - to increase their numbers, immensely, by working with whites. Until it is over, of course. The rebels thought the blacks joined them. So it seemed... All of which made the selection of men to deploy in cities the more complex, and time consuming.

 

They came, from nowhere. Out of a bone-chilling, almost windless foggy night, in DC. Truly, ghost ships must they have been as no radar, no satellite... nothing, detected them.

 

They were troop carriers - landing craft. Their actions were well planned, to put it mildly. Barracks were destroyed, as the men slept. DC was over-run, within hours.

 

The government officials were rounded up, their bodyguards, eliminated. They were stripped naked, handcuffed and made to pose on their knees in a video that was circulated, around the world. At the end, Vlad and Xi sit on a luxurious sofa, and Vlad says, ...and it was THAT easy, to take the United States down? They roared, with laughter! And the experience ended.

 

Ah, and now, the moment of truth, wherein I bring the two threads together in preparation, for making my point. And I do have a point. It was... (it's been a lot of fun writing this) OH! Yeah. Right. OK... something like this :)

 

Despite the many facts that would, uh, tend to move one in the other direction, still, many want to have the CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA experience. This is real. Just because we can begin it doesn't mean we can stop it, or even survive it, let alone in one piece. And if anyone believes they can predict the way it will go, once started, or even control that way, that person is a damn fool.

 

You must be a person of great patience. You got this far! Now watch, as I make it worth your while.

 

After reading this novelette you got my drift and, as always, you caught it, right between your beady little eyes. You started thinking about what's really going to happen, in the CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA experience. You wonder what you will do if YOUR lights go off...

 

IT DOESN'T HAVE TO HAPPEN.

 

But it just might.

 

YOU have to make sure it doesn't. Yeah, YOU.

 

 

Another experience, sir? Certainly. Here you go:

From the characters on offer, I picked a man; a head of a family trapped, in a city under attack by the rebels, who are using weapons China was good enough to send. The man chooses to run.

 

(...)

 

You come to, your body broken, bleeding and wracked, with pain. Your car is twisted, scrap metal, around you. It must have hit an IED, buried in the road. Somehow, the dome light is on.

 

Your crotch is soaking wet. Looking down, you see your five year old daughter's head, lying in your lap...

 

 

 

Pause the music before viewing the video! ROFL

Or, maybe not. Civil disobediance is always fun... for a while.