Chats with God

[Shamino Warhen Ph.D]

Twenty four inches of LCD screen that refreshed at 75 hertz reflected off of the mans spectacles. His pack of Dunhill King sized silkcuts, directly from England, had a single cigarette left in it. His ashtray, however, held more than its recommended fill of ash and butts. The filters were yellow, and the tar inside them held the same tinge. Truth be told, he hated Dunhills. But they were in the duty free shop down stairs, and they were cheaper there than they were at his London residence. He was unable to get them in his Texas residence, his Toronto residence, nor his Tokyo residence. They were the classiest and dirtiest things he had ever smoked in white paper.

"Baby, come to the bedroom."

He shook his head, pressing a sweaty palm to his cheek. He briskly removed his glasses, the frame closing briskly as he took them in one solid motion. He pressed his hand to his eyes, and with his other hand slammed the laptop screen shut. Turning the chair to the left, he repeated the motion with another screen, another, then another. The circle of screens around him were all shut.

"Ben. Please. Come to bed."

He spun in his chair, Ben, and looked to the closed bedroom door. "You're not there."

"You're not there." Ben repeated, picking up a Beretta and firing a silenced round into the door frame. "You're not there."

Silence.

"Ben?"

Two more rounds into the door frame, making a triangle.

"Fuck off." Ben mumbled. "Fuck right off."

The voice did so.

Placing the smoking gun down on a laptop, he grabbed the last cigarette and a silver zippo, lighting the cigarette and tossing the lighter onto the couch at his side. Exiting to the balcony, he was hit with a sudden revitalizing rush of cool air on a summer night. He leaned his body against the warm metallic railing, and inhaled. "Jesus Christ." He mumbled. "Jesus fucking Christ."

How do you feel?
"Awful." He replied.
Just do what everyone else does.
"And what's that?"
Forget it. Forget the memories- all the bad ones. Just focus on the good ones.
"But..." Ben began, staring down at the burning paper that irritated his lungs and numbed his throat. "But..."
But what?
"Then I wouldn't be human."

Laughter. Such loud, piercing laughter. He considered blowing his brains out right there. Looking down the many stories, the many meters, to the ant like traffic below. Stop signs, lights, moving and stopping cars. People rushed about- even at midnight, the streets were entirely too busy. "Names... I need names."

You have your own name. Given to you by your father, accepted by your mother. It's a long and running tradition in your family- so, so many Benjamin's.

"God..." He exhaled smoke, ashing into the air. "God." He repeated, in a less stressful tone. "Why am I doing this?"

You ask me every night.

"You never give me an answer." Ben retorted, staring down at the last possible pull of the cigarette. Frowning, he tossed it into the air. Removing an invisible pistol from his side, his left hand pulled his right thumb lightly.

"Bang." He whispered.
Bang


The cigarette flew further out, struck by an invisible bullet, and vanished from human eye sight. "Alright. So I kill these people, right?" Ben began rhetorically, walking back into his suite and placing on a black dress shirt. Doing up only two buttons, he kept his chest exposed while he exited the room and walked down the hallway. "And they stop- they stop stealing. Stealing things that aren't there. Invisible money- money not even printed. Money that comes and goes with the value of gold which our nations horde like... like..."

Like it's God.

Ben turned around, staring down the hallway at pure nothingness. "Myself." He whispered. "I'm talking to myself."

No, no... I'm right here.

"Oh." He exhaled softly. "Thank..."

Thank me, yes. Thank me after it's all, all over...

"What?" Ben asked, making his trip once more to the elevator. "What is over?"

"What is God?" He asked, pressing the lobby button.

If you want to define God as all knowing... Well, no one's God.

"But..." Ben looked to the mirror beside him, staring. He touched his hair, and dragged a sweaty hand along his cheek, feeling the warmness of his own flesh.

If you believe God as all powerful... You give him far too much credit.

He looked back to the door, inhaling heavily and exhaling through his nose.

If you believe God to be everywhere, and anywhere... Yes.

Yes, I am God.

"I don't believe it." Ben mumbled. "I get suitcases of money after every hit. God doesn't hire men to kill other men."

And you haven't said a single word since you double clicked on firefox, either. But... Here you are.

Or are you?


Benjamin woke up staring at several laptop monitors. "Jesus fucking Christ." Ben said. "I..."

Benjamin. Go to bed.

"...That's a good idea." Ben nodded, closing the laptops. He stared at the silenced Beretta before opening the undamaged door to the hotel room. In his hand, a near empty Dunhill pack. A single, unsmoked cigarette drooped out of the corner, begging to be smoked. He tossed it onto the dresser opposite the bed, and fell down face first onto the satin sheets.

For the first time in several days, Benjamin slept. He rested his weary eyes, which were sick of the screens. Sick of the floating numbers. Sick of the predetermined and scripted actions. His fingers twitched, oh so used to firmly gripping a mouse. Benjamin slept.

[Shamino Warhen Ph.D]

"This is some fucked up shit man."

Benjamin, at a cyber cafe, leaned to the side to stare at the young man's monitor. "What is?"

"Not this." The person said, slamming his fist into the keyboard. By hitting the escape button, the program exited and went to a black screen. The system began its restart process, and Benjamin awoke.


"This is some fucked up shit man."

"What is?" Ben asked drowsily, removing his cheek from the keyboard and looking to the persons monitor.

"The earth, right? Without it we couldn't communicate- the frequencies, it gives off, that is. The earth- eight hertz. Just enough for telephones to work, satellites to function, for people to telegram. For anything man, for any communication at all. That's crazy." The young man looked up at Ben through rectangular spectacles, and gave a crooked smile that revealed crooked teeth and a crooked state of mind. "Fuck, I love this."

"What?" Benjamin inquired further. "What?"

"This." The young man slapped the side of the old CRT monitor. "Best for gaming. That LCD- wears you down man. But this? Half Life death match for life, man."

"Oh..." Ben looked back to his own monitor, opening a new browser. "Hertz- frequencies, you were talking about..." Drowsily, Ben continued on. "What were you talking about?"

"Well I figure we must give off some sort of energy too. I mean- like. What if we could connect to that? Connect to the earth man." The young man sneezed into a tissue, tossing it into the waste basket beside the rented computer. The waste basket, Ben realized, was overflowing with his snot and the paper rags that held them- barely. "We use this." The man patted the monitor again. "That." He pointed to Ben's recharging cellphone. "Those." He pointed to the wires that hung outside, high above the traffic. "But what if we didn't need any of that? Just us, and the earth, man..."

"The human brain can't... Won't, accept that." Ben stated. Fact.

"We only use five to ten percent of our brain..." The man shrugged, picking up his coat and powering down the machine. He spoke through sniffles. "If we used it all- I bet we could."

"We'd go crazy." Ben suggested. "We'd go insane."

"Insane?" The sick man laughed loudly, which turned into a high pitched giggle. Everyone else had head phones on, staring blankly into the CRT monitors. Gaming, messaging, listening- listening to everything but common sense and laughter. "No man. You're insane- I am, too. Man... After we get rid of these..." He gestured to the computers. "Then. Then we're not crazy. Then we're sane. One with the earth man... No need for any of it."

He's right, you know.

Ben quirked a brow at this revelation. "So... Unlock the rest of the human mind... Communicate wirelessly- truly, wirelessly."

"Wirelessly? No man. Without anything. Nothing physical at all. Purely by human will. We'll will communication into being." The man threw a bill onto the counter, and a young asian man cashed it into a register with a few buttons. "He won't have to press those buttons. I'll tell him i'm paying before I even get up."

"You're talking telepathy." Ben called out to the departing man.

"I'm talking global, subconscious communication." The man called back. "But it won't be sub anymore... Pure consciousness- all of it. You need to wake up, man."

Seriously, wake up.


"This is some fucked up shit, man..."

Ben removed his face from the keyboard, damp with his sweat. "What?" Ben asked. "What is?"

"I didn't even mean to win that..." The young man, sniffles and all, frowned at the screen as he held his chin in his palm. "I need to stop bidding on things with money I don't have."

"Money... You don't have..." Ben blinked himself back to awareness, and nodded. "Yeah, maybe." Ben said as he stood, powering down the computer. "Enjoy your new CD collection." Ben commented, nodding at the ebay that refreshed on the man's monitor. Dropping a bill on the counter, a young Asian man pressed several buttons into a register and placed it with other colored bills.

"Thanks for your time." Ben said, moving towards the door.
no.
Ben craned his neck to look at the cashier.
"Thank you." The cashier said with a light smile. "See you again sometime."
"Yeah." Ben nodded. "See you."

[Kei]

I really like it. It kind of reminds me of the Matrix (or Ani-matrix) and a bit of Eureka Seven. And, deadass, this would make a badass movie.

~Manuel

[Shamino Warhen Ph.D]

Will you put that away?"

"Oh, sorry."

Ben slipped his PDA into his pocket for the second time during the luncheon. The attractive woman that sat across from him in the comfortable booth looked at him with a light frown. "How was your trip to London, Ben?"

"Eventful." He sighed, nodding. "Very eventful- all business though. No time for a vacation." He added, grabbing the coffee mug and raising it to his lips. He could taste it, feel the heat pass through him. It was real, as was he. "It's getting too real." Ben said after a moment of silence. The young woman placed her knife and fork down on the table, folding her fingers together and resting her chin lightly atop her polished nails.

"How so?" She asked.

"I haven't had fun like this in a long time." Ben shrugged, his head tilted down. However, his eyes looked up towards her own, and he gave a small smile. "Thanks for inviting me out. It's good to see you when I come in town, Alice." Ben pushed his empty place a few inches forward to signal he was finished, and picked up the mug once more.

"Likewise, Benny." Alice raised her milkshake, they toasted briefly, and gave each other soft smiles in between tapping milk off of their chins with their respective napkins. "I suppose you must be raking in the cash with the amount of traveling you do- you only travel with a successful transition, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Ben replied. "It's rewarding, monetarily anyways. Really taxing on me, my psyche." Ben sighed into his cup, draining it quickly of its contents and gesturing to the counter for another. "A job like this makes a man wanna retire very very quickly."

"But you're pretty young." Alice tilted her head, giving an unsatisfied look. "It's not like the job's dangerous, you said you had great security."

"I do." Ben said, nodding.

Yes, yes you do.

"Excuse me Alice, i'll be right back." Ben sat up, slipping out of the booth and calmly walking towards the rest rooms. Checking briefly if anyone was inside, he spat into the sink and turned on the hot water, splashing his face. "This is real, right?"

As real as you, and me.

"That's not comforting." Ben said, removing a cloth from his breast pocket and dabbing his wet cheeks. "That kid in London, it was like it was never going to end..."

I just wanted you to get each perspective on it all. Nothing, Something, and Everything. There's one more to kill- and another to convince. They're both in the same city though- just one more plane ticket, and it's over.

"Yeah." Ben whispered. "My heart's pounding."

You're intimidated. Relax, she's cute. And that whole 'thou shall not commit adultery', that was written when kids were marrying at 13... So if you want to bring her back to her place...

Laughter. Ben almost blew his brains out right there.