Uplift (2 page)

THE SOUVENIR

I turned the box over, and shook it when I got back to my little apartment in Raleigh. The apartment was comfortable, but a bit run down. I hefted the weight of the little box. You’re supposed to try to guess what was in it, but I had no clue. I had flags, and weapons, and pipes, and all kinds of souvenirs from my other missions, but who knew what the prof would give me. He was a geologist/engineer/dickhead, so I supposed he must have been
giving me a rock – big whup – friggin’ rock. 
Wait…could be a diamond, or other precious stone…that would be cool. I knew it wasn’t a condom because he hadn’t been using one of those with the chief’s daughter. Knew it wasn’t her hijab ‘cause she wasn’t wearing anything. Maybe it was her thong – a lot of those repressed types like to wear stuff from Victoria’s Secret under their ugly clothes. Took another slug of Patron, and unwrapped the little box.

“What the fuck is this?” I was puzzled. A black rock about the size of a blueberry sat in a bed of cotton. Hell. It was black as black could be. Smooth, and had a number of flat faces. It was a multi-sided 3D polygon. It was hard to count the number of sides. Finally got the same count three times in a row – after about twenty tries…had to look it up on the Net. A hendecahedron. Eleven friggin’ sides. The note in the top of the box said:

Found this on the floor of a shallow cave near Aybut, Oman. It was in a pit I would have sworn was undisturbed, and carbon dated stuff around it to 80,000 years ago. There were hominid tools, and this thing in the pit. Tried to carbon date it, but I got nothing. I thought you’d appreciate it, and figured it was probably something your guys fire at people anyway. Couldn’t cut it, or chip it, and it was obviously manufactured. Could be ceramic, or plastic, or a crystal, but it is now your official mystery, and not mine. Thanks for saving my ass.

I smiled at the thought of the Prof being flustered by the rock. Nothing seemed to faze him. Cool gift. I’d think of him, and Oman every time I saw it…at least for a few months longer. My cancer would eat me up completely in a few months anyway. Figure I’d request to be cremated, and my ashes poured over some Sigma Max official’s car. Maybe it’d screw up a paint job. Oh. I’d also leave a complicated will to keep it in probate court for a long time just to screw with my no-account relatives.

I put the stone (that was what I called it) with my other souvenirs – realized how little my life had amounted to in the big scheme of things, and drank a couple more slugs of good alcohol from my buddies gifts, and collapsed on my chaise lounger. I looked at the stone before I passed out – crap – it looked bigger – must be drunk.

****

I awoke feeling good. It had been a long time since I’d felt decent – not good – just decent. I felt good. What the hell? I didn’t expect to feel good. I looked around the apartment – what was going on? Nothing seemed out of place – wait – that stone looked bigger – not by much, but it did look larger. Was my memory so screwed that the thing looked bigger – hell – it looks as big as a cherry. Stones don’t grow – I wasn’t that far-gone …yet. What the hell? I picked up the stone. Sucker felt warm. I held it close. Held it up to the light in the bathroom while I pissed.
  It was larger than I remembered. Why are you bigger?

Ah – a question. I just manifested more of myself into your universe.

I dropped the stone right in the toilet, and then scrambled to get it out. What the frick are you? I thought as I washed it off in the sink.

If you must know – I’m a hyperdimensional personality core.

Wait…wait…I’m going nuts. What am I doing? I’m hearing stuff.

You are simply hearing me. I’m the HPC.

HPC. What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought.

A lot of things Richard…there are many things wrong with you. You want me to list a few? I am a hyperdimensional personality core – HPC.

I stood there looking at this friggin’ stone in my hand. Must have taken too many painkillers with the booze…hallucinating…

Pancreatic cancer, prostate cancer, rheumatoid arthritis, CMRSA, peripheral arterial disease, and lots more…your telomeres are too short, and shot all to hell
.

Telomeres, I thought. What are telomeres? Never heard of them, but that doesn’t mean much – all I know is military crap, and some science. Didn’t know I had prostate cancer too. What is going on? Voices in my head…

Telomeres are the DNA ends on linear chromosomes that prevent aberration, or loss of genetic information during cell division. Yours are frayed, and sticking to each other…you are worn out. Your telomeres are too short, and cannot divide so they are dying.

I’ve got to be dreaming. Aberration? …Not one of my words…I shouldn’t have taken those pain meds with alcohol. Where did I get an idea about telomeres? Must have seen a program on it, or something… Sucks getting old…think I’ll look up telomeres.

Sitting down in front of my large display I accessed my net apps so I could network anonymously – at least, semi-privately.

I would like to work with you Richard. I see your information access portal even though it is crude. Would you like?

What the hell? Just like that the voice cut off…huh…when I had set the stone down. I looked at the stone, and it was a little bigger than I’d seen it when I first opened the gift box from Prof. With a queasy feeling I reached to close my hand about the stone.

Whoa…Man. I don’t cut you off in mid-sentence…before you put me down again. I need a physical partner for a mission.

A mission with a stone …doubt I’ll have much time to go on any mission there, sport. I’m about to check out.

Maybe I can help you a bit, but it will take a leap of faith on your part…it will hurt…some.

What the hell are you? A HPZ, or some such crap …why am I talking to a stone?

Wait. Wait. Don’t put me down. I’ve waited a long time for this, and I’m in a rush. I’ll fix you up. I can make you healthy.

How healthy? …not dying healthy, or healthy-healthy like the water barons. What are you? How do you plan to do that? Sell you for medical money? Is this just some sort of prank with a microtransceiver? Must be some sort of big joke ‘cause I’m coming off my pain meds, and I have a headache you wouldn’t believe. Is talking to you causing my headache? I thought at the stone.

Better health than the barons, but we’ll have to do this in stages, or people would want to cut you apart to see what makes you tick. I’m a hyperdimensional personality core – a HPC. I am on an uplift mission. Yes – holding me, and talking like this is going to give you a terrible headache.

You really mean it. You can make me healthy? Who am I kidding? I’m talking to myself. Go for it dude.

****

Guess at that point I was ready for anything – when you’re about to check out you’ll do all sorts of stupid stuff for another day. My lifetime water benefits gold card was non-transferable so I couldn’t even sell the friggin’ thing – no money that way, and I didn’t have enough money for more than paying rent, electricity, net, and cheap-quality food. I’d have to scrimp just to get an occasional bottle. Youth sure was wasted on the young – unless you’re a water baron I suppose.

What do I need to do? I thought.

Lie down on your bed on your right side, and drop me in your left ear.

You’re too big to ‘drop in my damn ear,’ I thought.

I’ll get smaller
.

I lay down on my right side, and sure enough – the ‘dooee’ started shrinking, and I felt it going down my ear canal.

By the way…hold a pillow over your head. That way you won’t disturb the neighbors so much.

Huh, I thought. Why will I disturb the neighbors?

I did mention that it would hurt…some…

I started screaming, a few seconds after that… oh god…make it stop. I screamed until my throat was hoarse, and then screamed some more. I passed out.

****

“Mister Patterson. Mister Patterson. Are you okay? It’s me… Carole…from next door,” said the petite, little brunette.

I was a bit groggy, but I certainly remembered her. She was the twenty something girl from next door. I admire her full figured form hanging up laundry on the balcony next to mine. Noticed the policeman behind her.

“You okay buddy? Lady here said she heard screaming,” the cop said with a let me outta here look.

“I’m fine officer. Guess I had a bad dream. Must have thought my ex-wife was moving back if I was screaming?” I said.

The cop chuckled. “Heard that buddy. Been there. Call back if you need us.” He turned, and headed out.

“Thank you officer,” I said, and saw the manager out in the hall. Knew she was angry having to get off her couch, and unlock. “Thank you too Mrs. Patel.” I hollered, and my throat wasn’t even sore. I sat up, and looked into Carole’s face, and smiled. “Really appreciate it Carole. Don’t know what happened, but I’m fine…really,” I said, and meant it. I felt fine. You don’t know how good ‘fine’ feels until you haven’t felt that way in a long time. Before Carole turned to leave I caught her arm, and said, “Happy to make you dinner Saturday to thank you. I’m a good cook. Seven?”

Her face clouded a moment, but then she smiled, and said, “Okay,” she paused, and canted her head to the side one way, and then the other. “You really are looking much better. Seven then,” she said, and headed out the door.

Was it all a dream? I thought. No. I see the gift box on the table.

Well that was an experience wasn’t it?

Guess my hallucination was still on. I feel better. What did you do to me? I thought.

For now…repaired your telomeres, removed all your melanomas, and added more elasticity to your skin, muscles, and skeletal system. Oh. I strengthened your immune system. I am currently dissolving your titanium, and ceramic implants, and using elements to strengthen your bones. I left your hair a bit gray, but you will look twenty-five years younger – to start. You now need to pay the piper, and go eat about five thousand calories. Luckily…you had quite a few kilos of fat reserves to draw on. You must continue to eat high protein, and caloric foods.

I did feel better. I got up from the couch, and walked in front of the mirror. My clothes were kind of hanging on me so I took them off, and just stood, and stared in front of the full-length mirror. Holy crap! I thought. Look at this shit…wow. I did look better. My mini-gut was gone, and replaced with some sculpted abs. Whoa! I turned sideways, and my arms, and legs were starting to look beefier too – not bulky, but STRONG. I leaned closer, but the light wasn’t great so I went over to my bathroom sink. Whoa. Face was much younger looking. The bags under my eyes, and creases in my forehead, and neck were totally gone. The gray in the hair even looked good though it was a bit messed up. Legs, and shoulders didn’t hurt at all. That fact alone was astounding.

When you get through admiring yourself we can get down to business.

What kind of business is that? What did you do to me? What are you? Why are you doing this for me? Thinking back to some things you said…you’ve waited how long? How come you were found in a cave in Oman with artifacts that dated back 80,000 years?

(Chuckle) Quite a few questions there, fellow. This will take a while so why don’t we get something to eat. Bet you’re hungry.

I’m ravenous.

QUESTIONS

What am I? That’s an interesting question. I am a hyperdimensional personality core. Before you ask – that means I exist in multiple dimensions, and
you only saw a small manifestation of myself that I project into this dimension.  Several dimensions – I’m pretty large actually. Let’s handle the ‘what I did to you’
, and ‘what I am currently modifying’ as we eat. I replaced your skeletal system with one that will be more robust. Your joints are redesigned for more flexibility, and strength, and you bones are hardened against damage.

Your digestive system is MUCH more efficient, and you will be much less susceptible to toxins. You will process food more efficiently to obtain the most benefit from the energy it provides. Your endocrine system will allow you to function longer, and with more vigor…respiratory system will process oxygen more efficiently. Your muscles are stronger, and get rid of lactic acid faster. Your nervous system processes nerve flow twice as fast as the best current athletes. Your brain will have better blood flow, and synaptic function will increase over the next few months. I am adapting it to receive information more efficiently as you are probably experiencing some increased clarity in thinking…with me so far?

Think I’ve got it, I thought as we walked to a nearby restaurant…Why all this? I have questioned too much because incredibly as it seems – all ‘this’ has been benefiting me, and I don’t want to look a gift horse…excuse me…stone…in the mouth. I think I will call you Corey…short for you being a Core, and sufficiently demeaning as a nickname.