#And someone reblogged it saying they were gonna cosplay him and i was like WOW YOU'RE CRAZY

[kosmical]

invaded my school as chai today. happy halloween

[ask-de-writer]

MAD - IRRITATED SCIENCE! : Bizarre Borderland : (1 Part)

MAD IRRITATED SCIENCE!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

2488 words

© 2017 by Glen Ten-Eyck

written 2008

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

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I read an item in the SCI-NEWS that I personally found amusing.  A lot of people, especially the other Desert Rats like me, would have said, “So?”  For them, they'd be right.  Me, I'm the odd one, the duck that swims in the desert.

The item?  Somebody found and totally documented that the human brain's neurons use electrons to transmit information, which everybody already knew.  The new bit was that the neurons and the so-called white matter, the glial cells, also used protons to carry information.  The positive charge wasn't there just for balancing potentials.

Like I said, odd man out.  I already had a working headset that used passive electrical pickups to read brain activity.  In the past, and the reason that I built it, I used it to locate the speech processing center.  My plan for riches was simply to use the headset to read subvocal thought for controlling a computer or word processor.  Like many great notions, this one ran aground on the reef of reality.  It barely worked at all and was prone to massive errors.  Apparently it couldn't read the necessary brain center finely enough.

I looked over the equipment and began to rewrite my software to take into account the positive charges as information along with the negative ones.  Wow.  Dullsville, according to my few friends out here.  I shut up about my experiments.

Al Martin was a particular thorn all the way through the paw.  After I caught him cutting my gate lock chain to come up “for a friendly visit”, I got a Protective Order put on him to keep him away.  He took to calling me Dr. Freakenstein and making 'hilarious' jokes about creating monsters and EVIL SCIENCE.

Al Martin aside, I kinda like it out here.  The natural silence of wind, bird, coyote howl and such like, combined with the sheer joy of waking to the desert sunrise and watching the day unfold, lets me have both the time and the peace to think.  Sometimes I  tinker with the things that I think about.  Unless Al finds a way to be a nuisance.

The last few months, he's been running a “neighborhood watch” scam.  He got a telescope and started trying to charge folks for keeping an eye on their places.  By a pure coincidence I'm sure (NOT), the places on his watch list get robbed by burglars more often than the ones that he doesn't watch.  He even watches my place, which isn't on his watch list.  Caught him in the act several times.  I have a telescope, too.

Sorry about the digression.  Back to my idea of fun stuff.  The result of looking at both sides of the charge equation was a complete surprise.  Much of the mystery of brain intercommunication simply fell apart.  Most, if not all, of thought was processed as fractal interfaces between “clouds” of positrons clustered about various brain centers.  Still sounds dull, I guess.

Point, set and match occurred when a rat wandered near, under my house.  The sensor setup on my head spotted the interference of ratty's little “mind clouds” at once.  I personally hadn't noticed.  The computer showed me why, too.  My mind was automatically blocking the signal.

It took both concentration and help from the computer to open up to it.  As the little critter moved about, I started to get a feel for it.  If I could feel it, could it respond to me?

That took quite a few tries and failures.  After somewhat over an hour, I got the rat to come out from under the house and sit up on my porch in full view.  He was a dusty gray with  lines of white spots down his back.  His tail was long but fluffy.  Some sort of ground squirrel perhaps.  Not really a rat after all.

Now that I had him in sight, I experimented more freely because I could see how Ratty responded.  I needed the computer for the first few hours while I was learning to use my 'clouds' to influence his 'clouds'.  I kept blocking the signal by old habit.  With some work, I finally got Ratty to stand up and do a little rat-dance on his hind legs.

When I realized that Ratty was hungry from all of my experiments, I gave him a chunk of a peanut butter sandwich.  A few curious little birds landed on my porch rail while Ratty and I were munching.  I tried reaching out with my 'cloud' and encouraged them to hop up close.  More of my sandwich disappeared into little birdie craws.

By the end of several days of practice, I knew that my maximum range was about fifteen feet.  Inside that distance, I could simply execute small vermin like fleas, mites, lice, ticks and flying bugs.  Larger critters were harder but not much.  I didn't harm many of them though, it was more fun to control them and simply send them away. Ratty was the exception, of course.  He was both a kick as a pet and a great little test subject.

Had to wonder, you know, if folks learning to do this sort of thing wasn't the basis of the tales about witchcraft.  Thinking it through a bit more, after destroying a few persistent vermin in my garden, I realized that if this was the foundation of witchcraft, those fears in the general population could be well founded.  It took almost no imagination at all to see how someone with this sort knowledge could be a very real danger to the community at large.  Especially if the general population treated the “witch” badly.  I didn't intend to find out what would happen in a case like that.

I'd just got a pair of deer up close and doing a bit of a step-dance for a big flake of hay when I noticed the dust cloud of a truck barreling along the road from Al's place.  I sent the deer away, cursing Al under my breath.  Bad news only got worse when Al's pickup roared up my drive, scattering gravel as he skidded to a stop.  Al bailed out with a rifle in hand, starting to aim at the retreating deer.

I glared at him.  Al's rifle fell to the dirt from hands gone nerveless.  Wide eyed with anger, he demanded, “Damn you, Art! What did you do to me?”

Not bothering to get up from my seat on the porch steps I replied tartly, “Me?  I'm here on my porch.  You are ten feet away.  From here, it looked like you managed to drop your gun just in time to avoid poaching charges on top of the Felony Trespass and Protective Order violation.”

Frowning in a black faced rage, he flexed his now almost functioning fingers and retorted, “Poaching?  No way!  This is private land so its legal.  No hunting without permission your signs says. Wasn't no time to ask first, so's I was gonna ask after I blasted 'em.  Would'a given me a whole Winter's meat.”

Lips pulled into a tight line I snapped, “Only problem, Al, is I would have said NO.  Those signs allow me to get game from my land.  Desert game is spread thin and I don't share mine.  At least not with you.  I heard from Joe Sanderson how well you share yours.”

Al was looking down at his hands and flexing them.  Still pissed off, he spit out, “Joe had it coming!  Bastard wouldn't pay me for Neighbor Watch.”

I raised one eyebrow and pointed out, “Neither will I.  Looks like your hands are better.  Get into your truck and shove off.  Don't come back, either.”

Al stared to bend over to get his rifle and just kept on going down. He landed in a heap on the scattered gravel of my drive.  “Don't try to take that gun, Al, unless you want to leave here in a hearse.”

Twitching on the ground, Al yelled, “I knew it, you asshole! You've used some sort of evil witchcraft on me.  I'll have the law on you for this!”

I smiled down at him from my vantage point on the steps.  A sensible wolf would have stepped away from that smile.  “One:  Killing Felony Trespassers is legal, and that's what you became when you hauled out that rifle.  Two:  You have a Protective Order that requires you to stay at least a hundred fifty feet from my property line and do nothing to compromise my property, including discharge firearms on or across it.  I can legally kill you for that violation, too.  Three:  Witchcraft IS legal.  Four:  I just sat here and watched you apparently have some sort of seizures.  Five:  I am calling the Sheriff's Office on your Trespass and and Order violations.”

I got on my phone and called the situation in to the County Police. I fixed a sandwich and went back out on the porch to watch Al.  He was staying down.  I knew that he would.

As I started to eat, Ratty popped up from his nest under the house. He did his little rat dance and got his chunk of sandwich.  He settled down by my feet and happily nibbled his bread and cheese.

Al looked on in what I believe was genuine fear.  Trying to point, he exclaimed, “There's the proof!  You are a witch-man!  That's your familiar!”

Amused, I replied, “Ratty?  A familiar?  The worst he could do is nip your nuts while you're down.”

Ratty squeaked firmly.

I laughed, “Right Ratty!  Why should you risk lice and other crawling vermin just to bite Al's privates?”

Ratty expressed his opinion of Al by taking his part of the sandwich and retreating back under the house.  With his tail up to show Al his ass.

Not too much later a deputy arrived.  I greeted him, “Hi, Deputy Mustic.  'Fraid your cousin Al's in a spot of trouble.  Seems to have not only broken the Protective Order, he brought a firearm onto my place.  Trouble is, unless he's faking it, he seems to have some sort of paralytic neurological event.  He's even trying to blame me for it.  Witchcraft, no less.  Can you believe it?”

Deputy Mustic closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “Of Al?  I'd believe near anything.  I gotta call for a backup and let him do this one to be sure that everything's done right.  If I try to do the arrest, Al's lawyer is sure to try for a conflict of interest or some such because we're related.”   The deputy got on his radio and I overheard him giving dispatch a piece of his mind for sending him out to deal with a relative.

Soon both the backup, Deputy Jorgen, and an ambulance were on the scene.  Al was duly informed of his rights and placed under arrest while the ambulance crew verified with a pin that Al really was paralyzed.  Deputy Mustic took me aside, day book out and asked, “Art, why didn't you call the ambulance?  Even if he is my family, we both know that Al is slime.  Still, you should'a called.”

I nodded, while watching Al being loaded into the ambulance to be hauled away, “I would have, Deputy.  Thing is, he pulled that stunt on Sadie Halloway where he faked an injury on her place.  Since she called the ambulance, she wound up getting stuck for near enough a grand.  Al did it because she wouldn't pay into his neighbor watch scam.  I won't pay him either and just figured he was doing the same to me as he did to her.”

Writing in his day book and flipping a page to finish, Deputy Mustic nodded, “I heard about that.  Thought it might be the reason. Needed it clear for the record is all.”

More anxiously, now that he was done being official, he asked, “Any idea what is wrong?  I mean, scum or not, he is family and I'm worried for him.  Believe it or not, the kids like him at reunions. He does slight of hand coin tricks and card stunts really professional.”

I shrugged, “The slight of hand for entertainment is something I'd not have guessed.  Slick as he is at lifting small tools and such, I should have known something like that was behind it.  As for this, no idea at all.  I am sure that it's not sunstroke.  The AC in his truck was on and it works.  I would guess that it might be an oddball stroke of some kind.  Maybe an aneurysm or bleed in the upper spine could do it.  Just a guess, though.

“Al appears to be sure what it is.  I heard him telling both Deputy Jorgen and the paramedics that it's witchcraft.  If it is, I don't think that I'm the one.  Frankly, I hope he's right.  Witchcraft is legal.”

Three days later, Deputy Mustic was back.  It was an unofficial visit.  Looking sad, he said, “Al died in the hospital, last night, 'bout midnight, Art.  The doctors did find what it was but there was nothing that they could do.  Doctor Collins said that it was the fastest growing neurological tumor that she's ever heard of.  It was just near to the top of his spine.  Inoperable.  Al died swearing to everyone there that you cursed him.”

I watched a hawk soar overhead  for a moment before I replied, “Not to speak ill, but if I could have, I would have.  Didn't like him at all.

“You, on the other hand are one of the best.  Never heard a single bad word about you, even from folks you've arrested.”

Deputy Mustic smiled but only slightly, “Thanks for that, Art.  I didn't expect any sympathy for Al but I figured that you'd want to know.”

“Indeed, Deputy.  My condolences to your family.”

As Deputy Mustic drove away, My mind was in high gear.  I liked it out here, but it did get pretty lonely on occasion.  The ease with which I influenced animals and settled Al's hash led to an interesting line of thought.

The next time that I was in town, I spotted a pretty young lady. Checking her out by 'feel' I found that she was not only available, she didn't like being tied to one guy.  She enjoyed having a variety of lovers.

All that I planted was the urge to drive out my way.  The weekend was fun for both of us.  Besides bed, Sally hiked around the hills with me and even liked watching a hawk or buzzard fly.  We took a bunch of pictures of her around my house and up in the rocks and hills.  Nice cheesecake, barely risque.  Good memories.

It turned out that Sally knew a fair number of other like minded friends.  After she introduced me to her buddies, neither my days or nights stayed lonely.

---The End---