Hi everyone, the tale takes a dark turn today. It’s not nice but necessary for the development of a new character, Dr. Darkov. If this were a movie I’d rate it PG. Parental Guidance.
© 2022, Michael William Clark. All rights reserved.
Did you miss part of the story? Find it here!
Louis absorbed in his own thoughts wasn’t quite listening to her. He continued, “Even though I know nothing happens by chance, I often forget in the heat of the moment.”
“How do you know nothing happens by chance?” Stella asked emphatically.
“Well, I’ve observed how everything just sort of happens in a synchronous spiral. Things connect with other things; events with events; thoughts with thoughts; deeds with deeds. It’s not a new idea. It’s actually an old idea.”
“Do tell,” Stella said in mock seriousness. She already knew things come together. But like a nice mother or older sister, she went along with him.
“The ancient Greeks talked about it. Christians call it Providence. The Chinese, Wu-wei.”
“Wu-wei?” Stella said. “Sounds like what my mom used to call it when I had to go to the little girl’s room!”
“Very funny.” Louis smiled. “Wu-wei means the art of acting through non-action. Indian seers from the Asian sub-continent call it dharma, or sacred duty. The idea is that we should be united with the All, and to learn and grow through that connection.” Louis explained.
“What do you mean, learn and grow?” Stella probed. “Did Darkov learn and grow?”
She was speaking of the infamous Dr. Darkov, whom every 23rd-century school child had learned about in history class. Darkov was a notorious criminal and spy who had developed impressive telepathic abilities. In the late 20th century, while working undercover as a university professor, Darkov helped to coordinate a transnational money laundering ring that profited from human trafficking, child porn, illegal arms, and the importation of dangerous drugs. But that was only part of it. In his multiple roles as a seemingly legitimate professor, ruthless criminal, and Russian-backed agent, Darkov almost succeeded in destroying the essence of liberty in the Northern Hemisphere.
“Darkov turned out as bad as Hitler,” Stella said. “Wasn’t he also a necrophiliac?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Louis said. “He is one of history’s true weirdos. Story has it that he used to cut up corpses in his basement and stuff the body parts in plastic bags.”
“Plastic bags?” Stella said. “Disgusting! Why?”
“Well, plastic shopping bags were pretty common before the global ban. And they worked well with preserving things. Once the body parts were severed into pieces, Darkov stored them in his freezer and later, conveniently drove to the countryside in the dead of night to bury them.
“Dead people are much easier to transport in pieces.” Louis continued. “Actually,” he resumed in a somewhat more scholarly tone, “the practice of truncating dead bodies for ease of transport was widespread during the 12th century Christian Crusades. Crusaders used to carve up their comrades’ corpses and boil the body parts to make it easier to bring them home for a proper Christian burial.”
“I really wanted to know that,” Stella said cynically but her curiosity for the grotesque was now aroused.
“Darkov buried the body parts in the countryside?” she asked as if she didn’t hear it the first time.
“I suppose,” Louis said slowly, shaking his head in disgust.
“So did Darkov grow with all his mystic knowledge?” Stella asked rhetorically and then matter-of-factly said, “He was an incredibly perceptive telepath. He knew all about things ‘happening together,’ and a lot more.”
“True,” Louis said breaking an ironic smile. “But he didn’t have the right kind of knowledge. Darkov used his abilities all the wrong ways. Like someone entering an exit lane or looking through an e-scope backward. They see something but it’s all distorted. And everything they do is irrational. Actually, I read a brief history about him.”
“What did it say?”
“Oh, the usual. An otherwise gifted scholar born in the wrong place and time finds himself on a sticky wicket and sells his soul for career and prestige—
“Make that, pretense… not prestige!”
“Quite. I suppose things just got progressively worse until Darkov lost all self-control and became virtually possessed by the evil forces that drove him.”
“I guess so,” Stella said. “But it was his choice in the first place. He could have worked as a peanut vendor or something!”
“Haha.”
“How many innocent people did he murder, directly and indirectly?”
“Only God knows,” Louis replied. “He destroyed a lot of lives and academic careers too.”
“Really? How did he hurt academics?”
“They used to use something called e-mail back then.”
“I’ve heard about that.”
“Darkov subtly slandered the better teachers and students who caught on to his crimes,” Louis said. “He’d tell any lie he could think of. And he was very clever about it, often implying that his brightest colleagues and students were overly imaginative, paranoid or insane—which ironically Darkov himself was! Nuttier than a fruitcake!
“Isn’t that what Freud called projection?” Stella asked.
“Of sorts, I suppose. A twisted variant of projection.”
“Psychopathic projection!”
“Right you are Dr. Superstring! Louis said lightly.
“You don’t have to be a doctor to know a few things,” Stella smiled.
Louis laughed again and stroked his chin. He was feeling closer than ever to Stella and felt perhaps she was warming to him too.
© 2022, Michael William Clark. All rights reserved.
Did you miss part of the story? Find it here!
Earthpages.org 