“Didn’t you just say I wasn’t insane?”
Just putting a little perspective on your priorities.
The voice had a point. Roen opened the stall door a crack and peeked out. He tiptoed out of the restroom, looking both ways as he crept down the hall like he was Jack Maclean robbing the Smithsonian.
That is not necessary. Act natural.
Roen stood up as straight as he could and waddled like a robot toward the elevator.
I said natural.
“I’m trying! Besides, my natural reaction is to run screaming and hide under my desk.”
You would not fit under it.
“Hey!”
My apologies. That was not appropriate.
Roen pushed the down button and waited, his foot nervously tapping the floor. When it arrived, he walked in and began pacing in circles as the elevator sped down.
Stop it. Relax.
“I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit I have when I get nervous.”
There is nothing to be nervous about. Please believe that.
“So, why did you start talking to me that night?”
I saw that you were in trouble and helped you the best I could. Now, go outside and get some fresh air. We have much to discuss.
The elevator reached the ground floor and Roen practically fled the building, running as fast as his stubby legs would go. Feeling faint, he slowed down and made his way across the street toward Grant Park. It was a cloudless, beautiful day, not at all the sort of day he expected to learn that he was clinically insane.
Roen shaded his eyes from the sun as he crossed the intersection. The streets were bustling with people strolling about enjoying the afternoon. Birds chirped and a calm cool breeze brushed against his skin. Roen, stressed and exercise challenged, was wheezing by the time he reached a warm open walkway next to several beds of flowers.
Find a nice bench. Enjoy the day.
Roen avoided the sunny paths, choosing to stay in the shade under the tall trees and thickets. He passed a row of bushes to a quiet part of the park and sat down on a bench. He looked up at the sky and decided to move to the shaded bench on the other side of the path.
You dislike the sun?
“I sweat easily, and it’s bad for my skin.”
And eating frozen pizzas is good for your complexion? We can get into that later. Let me introduce myself. My name is Tao, and I am from a race of aliens known as the Quasing. I assure you, you are not crazy and not talking to yourself. I am a calm, rational, benevolent being, and I… we need your help.
“My help?”
Yes. My kind has been on this planet for a long time. We have survived for millions of years through the natural inhabitants on this planet. I have chosen you as my new host. This is both a blessing and a curse.
Roen stood up and began to pace again. “Curse? Wait, you’re an alien? I think I’d rather just be crazy.”
I have been watching you, and I feel that you are a worthy host.
“What? Really? Are you sure you’re talking to the right person?”
Pause. Yes, I am. Sit back down. I can tell you are melting like Frosty without his top hat here. You will probably want to be sitting when I tell you everything anyway.
Roen moved under a large tree and held his head in his hands. Then he leaned back against the rough bark of the trunk and closed his eyes. This was simply too fantastic. He fought the urge to check himself into a hospital; hospital visits were expensive. Supposedly, people could hallucinate if they had a tumor in their head.
You would rather me be a tumor than an actual alien?
“Neither are exactly great choices. I mean, how did you get here? What’re you doing here?”
Our ship was passing near your system when it was caught in a meteor shower. Its cocoon was damaged and unable to regenerate. Dying, the ship steered us toward your planet, hoping to survive long enough to land. However, your atmosphere petrified its outer membrane as we entered Earth’s orbit and the ship broke into several pieces. Our kind was scattered all over the planet. The devastation was massive and caused severe climate changes to your environment.
“Wait, you caused the Ice Age?”
Yes, we indirectly killed the dinosaurs.
“That’s impossible. That must have happened millions of years ago!”
Roughly sixty-five, give or take a million.
“OK, I’ll bite, so how did you survive the crash? Didn’t everything die?”
Most of our kind was killed in the crash. Several thousand of us survived the impact in the harder petrified sections of the membranes. We were scattered to the winds. The survivors learned early on that we could survive through the indigenous creatures by inhabiting them, like I am with you. Over the years, we have moved from host to host. As each host died, we found another, eventually moving from the dinosaurs to the first mammals.
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. So you guys were in dinosaurs; then, did you all get together in your dinosaur bodies and build dinosaur cities?”
You are getting a little carried away. We were cut off from each other for the first several million years. The early animals were too primitive for us to communicate with. It was not until the evolution of the primates that communication between survivors was first established.
Over the course of many years, we individually gravitated toward primates, having discovered that they were evolving at a faster rate. That and having opposable thumbs helped a great deal. They were also more easily influenced and less instinctual. Eventually, two Quasing inhabiting primates of the same tribe began to communicate. You will find that many primate rituals were actually ancient Quasing methods of communication. After that, it became a slow process of gathering all the survivors together.
“Oh, this makes perfect sense now. Million year-old geriatric aliens. How do you stay alive for so long? What’s your secret?”
Technically, we self-reproduce, similar to how amoebas on your planet reproduce. Over the course of time, we continually regenerate, sustaining ourselves from the nutrients of our hosts.
“So you’re a parasite?”
We like to think of it as symbiotic, but we can discuss biology another time.
“Discuss? I feel like a schizophrenic talking to myself. You know, crazy people don’t know…”
I have already heard your theory on conscious insanity.
“Fine. Prove that I’m not the mayor of Cuckoo’s Nest.”
All right. What if I ask you something that you do not know? Would that satisfy you?
Roen nodded.
What is the capital of old Assyria?
Roen frowned. “Is this a Monty Python question?”
No, this is not. What is the capital of old Assyria?
“I must have missed that episode on Jeopardy. I didn’t know there was an old and new Assyria.”
Assur. I was there when it was destroyed. Look that up if you like. And since there is no way you could have known that, how could you know that now unless someone else told you?
“I guess…” Roen sounded anything but sure. “Let’s say I’m not crazy and you are whatever you say you are. What if I don’t want you here? How do I get rid of you?”
We can only leave a host upon its death.
“What?!”
You have to die for me to get out. Trust me, sometimes we wish we could just leave voluntarily. It would make things a lot easier for us. If it gives you any comfort, I am as stuck with you as you are with me.