Look into my eyes E-Book

Boris Tzaprenko

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 488

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Could the fate of humanity be in the hands of one single person? So many different things could erase humans from the surface of this planet. In this novel, the threat that Homo sapiens face would annihilate them in such a sudden and surprising way that no one would see it coming. However... ---- Fifteen seconds before the Event Lucien walked into the ophthalmology clinic, clueless to the fact that within fifteen seconds he would be experiencing the first manifestation of the Event. « The Event » is the name that, for the time being, we will call the contingency that would both change the course of his life, and bring History to an end. And what we mean by « bring History to an end » is actually « decide the ultimate outcome of human existence ». Lucien was there for a routine check-up and was pleased to see that there were only two other people in the waiting room. A young woman and an older lady looked up at him. "Hello!" he greeted them. The elderly lady in the back of the room didn't respond. The young woman answered with a shy, barely murmured "Hello!" before turning back to her magazine. Thirteen seconds before the Event. Lucien sat down across from her...

Leseprobe

BORIS TZAPRENKO

LOOK INTO

MY EYES

(V04.0100222)

Édition : BoD - Books on Demand, 12/14 rond-point des Champs-Elysées, 75008 Paris ISBN : 9782322391127 Dépôt légal Février 2022

Translated from French by Michelle Weston. 

Copyright©

French version : January 2019 Boris Tzaprenko.

English version : January 2022 Boris Tzaprenko.

All rights reserved and registered.

Text protected by international laws and treaties.

Cover photo: Sébastien Meys. 

WARNING!

Any resemblance with existing or past situations and people may actually not be coincidental.

Find digital copies free-of-charge or order a hard copy at

rebrand.ly/rmaly_an 

To Julie Wayne

1) Sir, you are simply outrageous!

[Fifteen seconds before the Event.]

Lucien walked into the ophthalmology clinic, clueless to the fact that within fifteen seconds he would be experiencing the first manifestation of the Event.

‘The Event’ is the name that, for the time being, we will call the contingency that would both change the course of his life, and bring History to an end. And what we mean by ‘bring History to an end’ is actually ‘decide the ultimate outcome of human existence’.

Lucien was there for a routine check-up and was pleased to see that there were only two other people in the waiting room. A young woman and an older lady looked up at him.

“Hello!” he greeted them.

The elderly lady in the back of the room didn’t respond. The young woman answered with a shy, barely murmured “Hello!” before turning back to her magazine.

[Thirteen seconds before the Event.]

Lucien sat down across from her, near the door, and read a text message from Isabelle on his phone: “Don’t forget the ophthalmologist.” He typed back: “I’m already there.”

[Five seconds before the Event.]

Lucien put his phone back into his pocket, glancing towards the elderly lady who seemed to be surreptitiously observing him over the top of her glasses. He noticed a stack of magazines on a small table but nothing in the pile caught his interest.

[Zero seconds before the Event.]

The Event began when he lifted his head. It actually began at the moment that he laid eyes on a big poster. The image was a rather unusual one, but what surprised Lucien the most was that he hadn’t noticed it until then. It was a rather large picture, about two meters high and one meter wide, hanging above the head of the young woman sitting in the chair across from him on the opposite side of the room. And that’s how it all began. This incredible adventure started out in such a simple way that no one could ever have imagined all the insanity that would rapidly ensue.

Why didn’t I see this huge picture right above her when I greeted her earlier? he wondered.

The image was an eye-catching close-up shot of a gorilla. Its hypnotic gaze seemed to be staring intensely at Lucien. Across the bottom of the picture, large red letters (partially hidden by the young lady’s head) spelled out: ‘Look in……eyes!’

Look into my eyes! he guessed.

That seemed obvious! Checking to see if he was right, he tilted his head to one side then to the other to see the letters behind the girl. Yes, that’s what was written: “Look into my eyes!”

Why choose a monkey to illustrate an ad at an ophthalmologist clinic? he wondered. Besides, it wasn’t even advertising anything, nor was it a health advisory poster… ‘Have your eyes checked’ would have been better… but this? What a very strange picture! 

While these thoughts were flitting through his head, he kept on tilting his head from one side to the other, oblivious to what he was doing, trying to see the letters hidden by the young woman’s head. He stopped when he noticed that she was looking at him, embarrassed. She was even blushing slightly, and he almost blushed too.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled. “I… I was looking at that big monkey right behind you. I wanted to read… but… I really do apologize!”

Instead of reassuring her, the explanation seemed to fluster her even more. The elderly lady, sitting five seats away to the left of the young woman, scowled at him, clearly disapproving. Not only had she ignored his greeting when he had entered the room, she now looked at him suspiciously. Luckily for him, the ophthalmologist walked in and put an end to this embarrassing situation.

“Next, please.”

Standing up to follow the doctor into her office, the young woman threw a last partly surprised, partly upset look at Lucien. Across from him, the gorilla that seemed to be intensively staring at him now said: ‘Look deeply into my eyes’. He frowned.

‘Deeply’? Huh? 

Shocked, he spoke his thoughts aloud. “I could have sworn that it only said ‘Look into my eyes’. I didn’t notice the word ‘deeply’.”

The old lady shrugged, shook her head, and let out a disdainful ‘pfft’. She was far from understanding that as she was observing Lucien’s behavior, she was witnessing the very beginning of the chain of events that would change the world as they knew it.

“Sir, you are simply outrageous! The way you flirted with that young woman was impolite and stupid!”

“But… I… No! I wasn’t…”

For the next seemingly endless fifteen minutes, Lucien had to endure the woman’s sullen indignation under the penetrating gaze of the gorilla. He longed to escape the confines of the room and light up a cigarette. The doctor finally opened the door and asked for the next person to come in. With one last exasperated shrug, the woman left Lucien by himself in the waiting room.

Finally alone… but not quite. Lucien didn’t feel alone at all. The attention the animal seemed to focus on Lucien made him feel like it was sitting right there in the room with him.

*

The ophthalmologist showed him the optotype, or eye chart, which is a traditional series of letters and symbols of progressively smaller sizes that is used to test one’s sight.

“What letters can you read on the sixth line?”

Lucien had read the lines above that one easily enough, but this one was a little blurry. He concentrated and read, “L… O… O… K…… I… N… T… O… LOOKINTOMYEYES.”

Again! This must be their favorite expression here! 

“What?” she asked. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Look into my eyes.’ That’s what the sixth line spells out.”

The specialist seemed so surprised that he read it once again. “T… A… C… A… G…”

Astonished, he exclaimed, “That’s weird! I could have sworn…”

He rubbed his eyelids.

“I must be tired,” he said.

“Yes, it seems that way.”

Along with the young woman and the elderly lady, and without counting Lucien, the doctor was the third person who had unwittingly witnessed one of the very first manifestations of what would soon rock the future of humanity. Unaware of the privilege, she continued examining him, asking routine questions to which he responded mechanically.

“Place your chin here, please,” she instructed.

He did as he was told. She made a few adjustments and added, “Please look into my eyes. Into my left one first.”

“There we go again! This time, I’m not the one saying it!”

“What? Excuse me, what did you say?”

“Nothing, sorry, I…”

“All right… Let’s start all over again. Look into my left eye.”

Totally confused, he complied.

“Good! Now, look into my right eye.”

2) It captured his attention

Lucien left the ophthalmology clinic at 7:00 p.m. He lit up a cigarette and took two deep puffs. The picture haunted him, and even though he didn’t know it yet, it would do so for quite a long while. He was just happy to get away from it. The evening was cool. Still sucking nicotine into his lungs, he slipped his free hand into the left pocket of his leather jacket and hurried towards the closest metro entrance. The sidewalks were free of the trampling crowds, but the habitual traffic jams had frozen up the streets. Lucien could not understand why the picture of the gorilla was stuck in his mind.

Nice photo! Still… 

The metro’s escalator took him underground. He slipped his ticket into the slot on the side of the turnstile and grabbed it as it came out on top. The sliding doors opened, and he walked through them and down to the metro platform. His thoughts had moved on to his job, and he was worried because–barring a miracle–he would probably not hit his sales target this month. Throwing his cigarette butt onto the tracks, he sat down to wait for the train. He stared gloomily at the tracks with a vague look on his face, yawned tiredly, then absent-mindedly picked with his teeth at a hangnail on his right middle finger until he ripped it off and drew blood. From the bottom of his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a joint that he had rolled before leaving for his appointment. He lit it up and took a deep drag. He found his job incredibly boring, but he did need to work to make a living. Off to his side, two young men were discussing soccer, but Lucien was as oblivious to what his ears were hearing as he was to the images forming on his retinas.

The noise of the incoming train shook him out of his thoughts, and he raised his eyes. There, on the opposite side of the platform, he saw a billboard that captured his attention. He looked to the right and to the left to see if anyone else was looking at it, but no one else seemed interested in the picture. One of the metro cars partially concealed the image of a gorilla, so instead of climbing on board, Lucien waited for the train to leave in order to see it more clearly.

I didn’t have time to read what’s written at the bottom of this one. Is it ‘Look into my eyes’ or ‘Look deeply into my eyes’? 

The train started up, picked up speed and disappeared from sight. The proud and magnificent animal was visible once again. Lucien saw that the inscription on this poster was different: ‘Gaze into my eyes!’ This phrase was similar, but… it didn’t have exactly the same meaning. He sucked in a last whiff of smoke from his joint, threw the roach away, and spat out a small piece of tobacco. He hesitated for a moment, then rushed through the station, almost running, to get to the opposite platform. He came to a standstill right in front of the billboard and sank his eyes into the gorilla’s. The primate’s pupils irresistibly drew him in. The words ‘Gaze into my eyes!’ echoed in his mind like a hypnotic command.

He wondered, Why was this poster at the ophthalmologist’s and why is it here, too? But… wait… It wasn’t actually an ad! It wasn’t selling anything! Who spends money on a picture of a gorilla saying, ‘Gaze into my eyes’? Ha! Maybe it was a series of teaser ads… and we’ll find out what they’re selling later on. 

He called out to a couple that was walking by, “Hey, have you ever seen this poster before?”

The man turned and said, “It’s been around for a while. I’ve seen it in several different places. Why?”

“Oh!” Lucien was astounded. In several different places… for a while…

The couple walked on without paying him any more attention. Lucien could have stood there for who knows how long, staring into the animal’s eyes, if his phone hadn’t rung. He brought it to his ear and mumbled, “Hello?”

“Hey! What are you doing?” his wife, Isabelle, asked.

“I’m looking at a picture.”

“You’re looking at a picture? But… uh… a picture of what?”

“A gorilla that’s looking into my…”

Realizing suddenly that what he was saying probably sounded a little strange, he muttered, “I left the ophthalmologist a little late and I missed the metro, but I’ll be there shortly.”

“Do you know what time it is?”

He looked at the time on the screen of his phone and was astonished to see that it was 9:30 p.m. He had left the ophthalmologist's two and a half hours ago.

How did time fly by so fast? 

“I’ll be home soon,” he replied before hanging up.

On the spur of the moment, he took a picture of the poster with his phone, before returning to the platform to wait for his next train.

3) You said something about a gorilla

Lucien arrived at his apartment building at 10:00 p.m.

During his trip home, he was seated next to a woman who was reading a newspaper, and he had involuntarily glanced at it. Just as he started to look away, she turned the page and a picture of the gorilla caught his eye. He felt as if his eyeballs were going to pop out of their sockets, like in a Tex Avery cartoon. The picture covered an entire page, and it was incredibly realistic. The woman suddenly folded the newspaper and got ready to leave the train, so he didn’t have the time to closely inspect it. He hadn’t been able to read what was printed at the bottom because the creases in the paper masked the text. Getting into the elevator, he thought, I should have grabbed the newspaper away from her. I hope I can find one tomorrow. I don’t even know which newspaper it was! 

He got out on the fourth floor and chided himself for being so obsessed with the gorilla.

Why am I getting myself all worked up over this animal? 

He pulled his keys out from the bottom of his messenger bag but didn’t get to use them because his wife suddenly swung the door open wide.

“What in the world made you so late?” she said worriedly.

“Oh, nothing. Just a gorilla…”

“…?”

The puzzled look on Isabelle’s face made him realize how odd his answer must have seemed. He racked his brain to find a more reasonable explanation, but couldn’t come up with one.

“I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around what really happened,” he said, dropping onto the couch. “I’m afraid you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

She sat down next to him and laid her hand on his knee.

“I’ve known for quite some time that you’re crazy. That’s never been a problem. You know that. Go ahead, I’m listening.”

Smiling thinly, Lucien launched himself into vague explanations: a combination of circumstances… too many people waiting at the eye clinic… losing his keys on the subway platform and having a hard time finding them…

This was the first time he had actually lied to his wife, and it made him even more ill at ease.

How can the simple picture of a gorilla have such an impact on me? he wondered, bewildered. 

Isabelle thought he was acting strangely, but didn’t want to insist and embarrass him even more.

The evening unfolded as it usually did. They dined on lamb chops and fries, barely talking to each other and watching with little interest a political program on the television. She had lowered the volume, hoping it would make conversation easier, but he kept his silence. Watching him from the corner of her eye, she saw that his eyes were glazed and that he was lost in his thoughts. Something was clearly preoccupying him. Having served dessert, she tried again.

“When we talked on the phone, you said something about a gorilla.”

“Look into my eyes.”

“Huh?”

“The gorilla was saying, ‘Look into my eyes!’ That’s what I thought I had read at first, but the exact words were: ‘Look deeply into my eyes!’”

“It spoke to you?”

“Oh no! That was written along the bottom of the poster.”

He realized that he was getting annoyed. That disturbed him, but he rapidly regained control of himself. She stared at him interrogatively.

“The billboard on the metro wall?”

He swallowed two spoonfuls of yogurt and corrected himself.

“No, the billboard in the metro said, ‘Gaze into my eyes!’. I’m talking about the one at the eye clinic… But that isn’t important, never mind. It’s just a poster.”

“You didn’t tell me about the poster at the eye clinic.”

“Forget it, it really isn’t important.”

He refrained from telling her about the picture in the newspaper.

Lucien slept well that night. He woke up fully rested and restored from his dreamless sleep. For breakfast, he had a big bowl of coffee with milk into which he dunked his buttered toast before devouring it hungrily. Isabelle was happy to see him like this, but couldn’t resist asking more questions. Spreading butter on her biscottes, she tried a fresh approach.

“Have you been having problems at work lately?”

“No more than usual! This job is just getting on my nerves… but there’s not much I can do about it.”

“Find another job if you can’t stand it anymore.”

4) I don’t have a picture of a gorilla in my files

Lucien had been at work for an hour, drunk four cups of coffee and called ten prospects, but had nothing to show for it. He hadn’t made a single appointment. One of his regular customers, the owner of a luxury store that sold furs and fine jewelry, had called wanting to make some changes to his insurance policies. That meant that some new contracts would be signed, but it obviously wouldn’t be enough for him to reach his monthly sales goal.

“Another lousy day!” he called out to Farrah.

The young woman’s desk was three meters away from his. She had the same job as he did, but covered a different part of the city. Peeling her eyes off of her screen, she turned towards him, stretched, and yawned.

“Right! I’m tired! I’m going to get myself another cup of coffee. You want one?”

“Sure! It’ll be my fifth, but who’s counting?”

She got up and disappeared down the hallway. From where he was sitting, Lucien could see his colleague’s computer screen. While waiting for his cup of coffee, hoping it would give him the energy he needed to continue his work, he chewed on his fingernail and watched the regularly changing photos she had set as her screen saver. He liked to watch them every once in a while. They were generally deep-sea shots (Farrah visibly liked them), and as he looked on, images of magnificent corals gave way to pictures of a majestic manta ray.

He jumped when the photo of the gorilla appeared. And when he read the inscription written in red, his heart skipped a beat: ‘Look into my eyes, Lucien!’.

When Farrah got back, a cup of coffee in each hand, she found him sitting there, frozen in place, staring at the hammerhead shark on her computer screen. She stuck the cup under his nose.

“Hey! Are you trying to communicate telepathically with my screen or what?”

He grabbed the hot cup distractedly.

“Could you show me the photo of the gorilla you have in your wallpaper file?”

“Gorilla? What are you talking about? I don’t have a picture of a gorilla in my files.”

“Of course you do, I just saw it!”

She went up to her computer, put down her cup of coffee and moved the mouse.

“I can check that out easily,” she said. “Look, here’s the folder with all the pictures I use for my wallpaper screen. That’s the hammerhead shark. Check it out, there aren’t any gorillas.”

He got up and went over, looked intently at each picture, but couldn’t find any gorillas. She seemed surprised by the worried expression on his face.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“…”

“You seem funny all of a sudden! You look confused, as if the photo you’re talking about was the most important thing in your life.”

She observed him sitting there silently while she drank her coffee.

“Oh, well,” she exclaimed, “Whatever! I have an appointment with a prospect. See you later.”

She slung her purse onto her shoulder, grabbed her attaché-case and left, throwing him one last questioning look.

Once he was alone, he went through her wallpaper file again, checking each picture, nibbling on the thumbnail of his left hand. But he did not find what he was looking for. The printer chirped and caught his attention. He got up to see what was being printed. It was a full page picture of the gorilla, with “Dive into my eyes, Lucien!” written in red across the bottom.

And that’s what he did, in a state of awareness bordering on fascination. Unknowingly, but not unwillingly, he fell under its spell. He felt captivated by the gorilla’s eyes. The hand holding the sheet of paper shook slightly. After a tense moment, he thought he heard someone say, < Gaze into my eyes… no, better still: concentrate… plunge your eyes into mine. Pay close attention… focus on me. >

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, breaking free from the unsettling feeling and its spell-like hold. He sat very still for a long while, not knowing what to do until he was startled by the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. He quickly slipped the sheet of paper into one of the files piled up on his desk and looked up to see Georges.

Georges was the representative of LHO, the biggest union in the company. He came to a halt in the middle of the room and called out, “Hey, Lucien! I hope you’ve been working on your speech! It better be good! I was wondering about it, since you haven’t sent me anything to read.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

“Gosh, you look terrible! Are you okay?”

“Everything’s fine, really.”

“Okay, okay… I’m counting on you.”

Georges turned around and strode away.

Actually, Lucien hadn’t really been working much on his up-coming speech.

I’ll change around some things here and there in last year’s speech and that’ll be enough. Anyway, I’m pretty sure no one remembers what I said, so… 

He took advantage of Farrah not being there to smoke a cigarette in front of the open window. She hated that. “You stink up the whole office when you do that!” she would shout at him. He sucked on his cigarette like a drowning man, trying to absorb a maximum of nicotine into his bloodstream, then threw out the butt and closed the window. Just when he was about to retrieve the picture of the gorilla, someone walked up to the office door.

“Hello! I was told that Mr. Lucien Prérubem’s office was here. Is he in?”

“Yes, what is it now?” exclaimed Lucien.

“…!?”

“Oh, sorry. You are in the right place. I am Lucien Prérubem. How can I help you?”

What is happening to me? I have to get a grip on myself. 

Referred to him by another customer, the man wanted to get insurance for a vintage motorcycle. He lived in Lucien’s prospect zone, so the signature of this contract would be for him. However, that didn’t make him any happier, even though his monthly sales were meager. Fifteen minutes later, once the insurance policy had been signed in due form, he had to make a good show of refraining his impatience while his new customer bragged about his ride.

“It’s a 1955 Vincent Black Shadow HRD 1,000 series D. Over 150,000 kilometers on it and purrs like a kitten, you know. If only you could hear its engine! It’s as melodious as a symphony and…”

Luckily for Lucien, the client was cut short by the arrival of Hélène, the executive assistant. She gave the proud owner of the antique motorcycle a commercial smile, looked at the printer and said, “Sorry to bother you, just one second… Hmm, I thought I had printed something out. Ah, these computers!”

She left with an exasperated sigh.

“Well, I’ll be going then,” said the Vincent 1,000 man.

“Alright!” said Lucien with some relief. “Your Florent 1,000 is well covered now.”

“Vincent! Vincent 1,000!” corrected the customer, a little miffed.

“Vincent, right! That’s what I meant to say. I apologize! Rest assured, everything’s in order. You made the best choice for your prize possession.”

Lately he had been saying these scripted phrases with less and less conviction, largely out of force of habit. He was no longer interested enough in his job to invent silly new sales pitches.

Once the customer had left, Lucien opened up the file that he had rapidly slid the photo into but couldn’t find the picture. He was standing in front of the open file, thoughtfully holding his chin, when Hélène popped in again. She grabbed a sheet off of the printer, then walked up to Lucien.

“Oh, my goodness, you look lost in your thoughts! Ah ha! Well… it looks like you’re the one who had my printout! Why did you take it and put it into that file without telling me?”

She snatched up the sheet of paper with the insurance estimate that she had printed out for a certain Robin Mouassac.

“I must have picked it up without paying attention,” mumbled Lucien. “Sorry about that!”

She laid the estimate back down.

“That’s okay, but you really look out of sorts today. You can throw that one away, I printed a second one.”

She left, in a hurry as usual. Lucien brought the sheet of paper so close to his eyes that it touched his nose, as if seeing it up close would help him find the answer to this mystery. He rifled through the file again, then through the other files, but could find no trace of the photo of the gorilla. That was when he realized that he had strewn piles of paper all over the floor around him. A thought crossed his mind–but only quite fleetingly–and, for the first time, he wondered if he had a mental problem. He did his best to clean up the mess. His files already had the reputation of being a jumbled chaos!

When Farrah returned, she found him sitting on the corner of her desk.

“There!” she called out to him. “Another contract signed. I didn’t go there for nothing. What time is it? Already 11:30! Well, enough for today! I’m going to get myself a cup of coffee. Do you want one?”

She saw that he was holding a sheet of paper out to her.

“What? What’s that?” she asked.

“What do you see printed here?”

“Uh… An estimate. Why?”

“Nothing. No reason…”

She shrugged politely, as if to say, ‘what’s this all about, again?’ Then she repeated, “So, do you want some coffee?”

Suddenly, Lucien had an idea.

“Wait! Wait!”

Berating himself for not having thought of it before, he pulled out his phone and looked for the picture he had taken at the subway station.

Easy enough! It has to be the last picture I took; I haven’t taken any since then.

“What?” she asked impatiently.

“Alright! Go get your caffeine, I’ll show it to you when you get back.”

While she went to get the coffee, he sat there, meditatively looking at the last picture he had taken. It was indeed a poster… yes, it was. But it was an advertisement for an electric shaver. He scrolled through the pictures he had taken before that, then came back to the most recent one, the one with the shaver. Everything that surrounded the billboard, the tiles, the rounded wall of the tunnel, the platform… he remembered having seen all that. Without any doubt, he had taken a picture of a shaver, believing that he was taking a picture of a gorilla.

“So, what did you want to show me?” asked Farrah when she came back with the two cups.

“Oh… nothing, nothing… I must have deleted the picture I wanted to show you.”

“What was it?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Come on, tell me!”

“It was a gorilla!” he answered in an exasperated tone.

“Alright, don’t get uptight about it! I’m telling you, you’ve been really creepy today. Anyway, I didn’t know that you liked gorillas so much. Where did you get a picture of one? At the zoo? Or were you out in the jungle?”

Unable to hide his foul mood, he left the room without taking the cup of coffee she was holding out to him.

5) Lucien swiveled his head

By the time Lucien reached Baie Bleue Avenue, it was almost noon. He wasn’t hungry, so he wandered around, his hands in his pockets, and after a while absent-mindedly followed a group of people into a bar. He racked his tortured brain, asking himself the same question over and over: Am I going crazy? 

“What can I get you folks?” asked a server.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Lucien didn’t answer. He didn’t even see the interrogative looks that the man and the two women he had followed in were throwing his way. His memory of the gorilla that he had seen on the poster in the metro station–as well as the one he had seen on the printout in place of the estimate–was so vivid! A thought popped into his mind: What about the one at the ophthalmologist’s? 

The clinic wasn’t very far. He ran there as fast as he could. Barely five minutes later, he rushed up the stairs and burst into the waiting room, huffing and completely out of breath. He saw (or rather, did not see) just what he had dreaded: nothing was there. Not a single poster of a gorilla in the room.

There’s no more a gorilla on that wall than a giraffe in my pocket. That’s why that young woman flipped out! I must have really embarrassed her by looking around her that way, trying to read the inscription on a poster that only I could see! 

He went back down to the street and walked aimlessly around, not knowing where he was going.

And to think that the animal was talking specifically to me in the last two pictures! This can only be the fruit of my sick mind. How else can I explain my name being in the text? 

Just to be sure, he decided to go back and check out the billboard at the metro station. Unsurprisingly, but with a pinch of disappointment, he could see that the billboard that he had taken a picture of was definitely an ad for a shaver. He went back up above ground and walked into Chez Marcel, a bar located near the corner of Dufour Boulevard and Baie Bleue Avenue. After choosing a table in a back corner where he could be alone, he ordered a cup of coffee with a salami and butter sandwich. Out of habit, he started reading the newspaper someone had left on the table. His phone rang in his pocket and he saw it was Isabelle. He answered, trying to sound as natural as possible, but didn’t want to talk for too long.

Once the brief exchange was over, he laid his phone down on the table, and his vacant eyes on the newspaper. He suddenly shuddered: it was happening again. There! In the newspaper! The photo of the gorilla covered the entire page! The red letters at the bottom read: ‘Lucien, probe my eyes!’ He shut then reopened his eyes, trying to protect himself from what he was seeing, and let out a yelp of astonishment. The gorilla was still there. The newspaper, the table, the bar, everything else had vanished, but the gorilla was still there. It wasn’t even on the paper anymore–everywhere he looked, the image was there. Eyes closed, Lucien could see the great ape floating around in the void. Eyes open, the image superimposed itself on his own vision of the world.

How in the world am I going to explain this to a psychiatrist? Hello, sir, I need to come in for a consultation because I see gorillas everywhere I look! I even see them when my eyes are closed. What do you think, doctor, is this common? Is this a harmless symptom? 

< You will have to tell him that you can also hear me! >

Lucien jumped. There was no one nearby. Was there a loudspeaker in the wall behind him? No, nothing that he could see. He wondered who had spoken, although ‘spoken’ wasn’t the right word to describe it… ‘murmured’ would probably be more appropriate, maybe… no, not even that.

< I sense your stress. You have already accepted the fact that you see me… so hearing me too shouldn’t make that big of a difference, right? >

He turned and looked all around but couldn’t see anyone whispering to him or even making any kind of sound.

Well, doctor, I can also hear it. What should I do? Geez! I’m suffering from a terrible mental illness that I invented just for myself! I always have to be in a league of my own, don’t I! 

< You cannot actually hear me. I did not use the right verb, because we are not using sounds. Let us say that you can mentally perceive the words that I am thinking when I want to communicate with you. >

I’m definitely going crazy! I’m having a conversation with myself, and pretending that it’s a gorilla who is talking to me in my head! How did my brain spin out of control so fast? 

“Here you go, sir! Sorry for the wait, I’m all alone in the bar today… Oh, but it’s you again! You’re back!”

Lucien whipped around towards the server, but the image of the gorilla superposed itself over him from his face to his waist.

“What do you mean, I’m back?”

“You ran out of here earlier today, remember?”

“Uh…”

“5.50 euros,” said the man, putting the cup of coffee, the sandwich, and the bill on the table.

Lucien swiveled his head from right to left, then from top to bottom, rolling his eyes, trying to get a look at the face of the person who was talking to him, trying to use the part of his vision that was clear. He even tried to wave away the image that was blocking his view with his hand, as if trying to chase smoke away. The waiter watched him with curiosity, but stayed silent until Lucien murmured, “What is this thing? Go away!”

“What thing?” the server answered with a perplexed frown.

The hairy primate disappeared.

“I’m so sorry!” Lucien said, putting ten euros onto the saucer that the man was holding out to him. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

The barman slipped the bill into his pocket, shrugged, and left without saying a word.

< I hope I am not being too much of a problem, > ‘said’ the gorilla, reappearing into Lucien’s field of view. < Next time I will disappear faster. The thing is, you have not mastered how to intentionally communicate with me yet. I can capture some of your thoughts, but they are not very clear because you are not intentionally directing them to me. It is also partly my fault, I have not mastered the different planes yet. I should have projected my image behind the waiter. >

Oh my! How’d I manage to invent a mental illness as wacky as this one! Only I can come up with things like this. Even when I’m going mad, I have to do things my own way. And in the most ridiculous manner, I must say! What should I do? What can I do? How can I explain this to Isa? What to do? Oh my goodness! 

He stopped chewing on his fingernails and lit up a cigarette.

< Stop complaining! Why jump so quickly to the conclusion that you are mad? That is what you are thinking, right? >

What should I do? I’m losing my mind, and tragically, I’ll probably also lose my job. It’s the psychiatric ward for me. And a straightjacket. What is Isa going to think? Should I even tell her about it? What am I to do? 

< You should trust me when I say that you are not going crazy. I really do exist, you know! I am not a figment of your imagination. >

I’m telling myself that I’m not mad in the craziest possible way! 

< No, you are not the one saying that you are not crazy; I am. >

Lucien tried to chase these unwanted ideas from his mind. Biting into his sandwich, he chewed without appetite. He stared with blank eyes at the small Formica-covered table in front of him, but he could still see the gorilla on it. The great ape spoke to him once again.

< You should not eat that. >

< Why not? Should I now be taking your taste into account? >

Ha! I am now getting into an argument with myself. My brain must really be in overdrive! 

< No, it is not a question of taste. It is because an animal had to be killed to produce that salami. Moreover, an animal that was raised in horrible conditions, provoking atrocious suffering. A cow was also exploited in order to make the butter. >

< That’s life! The lion eats the zebra! What do you want me to do about it? >

< The lion? What does the lion have to do with this? You are not a lion, and lions do not eat salami. >

< The lion is just a figure of speech! What I mean is that I’m a predator and therefore I eat other animals. >

< You are a predator? You? >

< Leave me alone! >

Oh my! I’m telling myself to leave myself alone. 

< Alright. Just one last question. Do lions suckle cows? >

< That’s a stupid question! >

< The butter on your sandwich comes from the exploitation of a cow. So, since you are using the lion as a metaphor to justify your eating habits, I wanted to know if lions suckled cows. >

Moreover, doctor…. When I’m in my manic state, I also sometimes wonder if lions suckle cows. Yes, doctor, I’m more than willing to take a double dose morning, afternoon, and evening. Triple dose, yes, even better. 

Lucien was beginning to indulge in self-pity.

< You know what we are going to do? I will leave you alone for a while so that you can give all of this some thought. I would like you to consider that I am not an invention of your mind, that I really do exist. Okay? Think it over, please. I will come back soon. >

The image disappeared and the ‘voice’ went silent.

Lucien noticed that the barman and some customers were throwing him meaningful looks every now and then with knowing smiles.

They’re all aware now that I’m as nutty as a fruitcake. I have to call Isa. This hallucination might come back at any time. 

He called his wife, told her what bar he was in, and asked her to come pick him up as soon as she could. She asked him why, and he told her he wasn’t feeling well, that he couldn’t tell her why over the phone, but that he would explain everything once home.

*

3:00 p.m.

Isabelle was self-employed and worked from home. She coded database software using PHP/MySQL for her clients’ websites. The freedom she had in her job made it possible for her to pick up Lucien without having to account for her time.

They were both now sitting on the living room couch. She had her eyes fixed on his as he told her everything that he had gone through.

“… and I thought it would be better if you came and picked me up because I’m feeling completely lost. I don’t know when it’ll happen again.”

“And right now, at this instant, you can neither see it nor hear it?”

“No, nothing at all.”

She must think that I’m certifiable, and she’s right.

“You didn’t try to respond to it, but it seems that you can have a dialogue with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When it says something like ‘I am the one telling you that you are not crazy. It isn’t you. I am not a figment of your imagination.’ That proves that it can respond to your thoughts.”

“Yes, that’s true. But as I was saying, it can only be my imagination.”

“If it comes back, we’ll take care of it together. I won’t let you deal with this on your own.”

“So, you believe me?”

“I think that you believe that what you’re experiencing is real. This gorilla really exists for you.”

Lucien’s eyes filled with warm tears of appreciation and tenderness. She was the only one who could help him. He noticed she was lost in her thoughts.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked. “That I’m off my rocker, right?”

“I was thinking that, if it happens again, we’ll ask it to give us proof of its existence.”

“How?”

“We’ll see.”

Lucien supposed that she had something in mind and felt reassured because he admired, in spite of everything he had been taught, Isabelle’s great intelligence. And what was it that he had been taught? From an early age, his father had told him that women's cognitive abilities were weaker than men's; his father himself had been conditioned to think that way too. He was therefore convinced that he was living with an exceptional woman. He was, on one hand, flattered, but on the other hand slightly self-conscious too, because he had always felt that Isabelle was superior to him, both in her studies and in her career.

6) Her thoughts went to her mother

She no longer had a body. What remained of her was hooked up to very sophisticated machines that kept her alive. All of this was in a secured location guarded twenty-four hours a day by armed men, and only the people working on this secret project were allowed to enter.

She could see, but not through her own eyes, because they had been removed. Lenses had been wired directly into her visual cortex located within her occipital lobe. She could hear, but not through her own ears because they, too, had been removed. Microphones transmitting digitally converted signals had been connected to the auditory area of her brain. These artificial senses allowed her to see and hear what was going on around her, but also elsewhere in the world.

Her other senses had not been linked up to sensors. They had inflicted horrible suffering upon her, but since they had disconnected her nervous system from her body, she could no longer be tortured. However, she could still feel pain from her phantom physical body, like people who sometimes feel fictitious itching from an amputated limb. These exclusively physical torments were much easier to bear than the suffering caused by the numerous amputations and operations that had transformed her into what she was. It would have been extremely difficult for her to describe the psychological misery of having no body, though. No words could depict the terrible ordeal she was going through, because she was the first ever to have experienced anything like it. There was only one way to get an inkling of what she was enduring: imagine no longer seeing or feeling your hands, your feet, or any other part of your body, for the horribly unique reason that they no longer exist.

Her thoughts went to her mother, as they often did. The last memory she had of her was incredibly sad, and every time it came to her mind, she felt heartbroken all over again. Once more, she hoped that her mother had died rapidly without suffering.

7) Good morning, Predator!

Lucien and Isabelle both had a restless night. He didn’t sleep well because he was afraid he was losing his mind and that the symptoms would come back. She tossed and turned because she was worried about him. But nothing happened that night. The next morning, Lucien drank a large bowl of coffee, but ate nothing. Isabelle had a couple of grams of granola with milk. She then tried to work on a database that she was developing, but the going was slow because of a problem with variable typing. Her head was a jumbled mess, and she just couldn’t concentrate on what she was doing. Lucien called in sick to work. He sprawled out on the couch, searching the Internet for information on hallucinations. It was close to noon when the image of the gorilla appeared on his screen.

He jumped. But strange as it may seem, even to himself, he felt slightly pleased. This strengthened his belief that he was going insane. Why was he only slightly pleased? Because it was also very disturbing. He somehow felt like he was reuniting with a friend. Admittedly, up to then the animal had never been unpleasant. It had even shown consideration by allowing him time to rest and had apologized for having projected itself onto the barman, promising to be more careful next time.

< Good morning, Predator! > said the gorilla. < I waited until you had gotten some rest. I hope that I am not interrupting anything. >

Predator! I am now making fun of myself via an imaginary gorilla, doctor. Should I swallow an entire bottle of pills three times a day? Or put on ten straightjackets, one on top of the other? Doing both would probably be safer. 

< No, you aren’t interrupting anything, > said Lucien, sending the thought mentally.

His heart was beating so violently that he felt it all the way up to his temples.

< This is the first time that you respond to me intentionally. You do not know how pleased I am. >

< Yes, all I need to do is think that I want to respond and I can do it. This is insane! Or maybe I’m the one who’s insane. I’m beginning to believe in all this monkey business! >

< First of all, you are not crazy. I will eventually convince you I exist. Second, you should not say ‘monkey business’, that’s a speciesist phrase. >

Speciesist? Now that’s a good one! I’m presently inventing new words. I’m totally bananas! 

< Speciesist? What does that mean? >

< Relating to species. Speciesism is discrimination based on one’s species. Just like racism is discrimination based on race. Look it up on the Internet. That way you will learn what it is and at the same time will have to acknowledge that I am not a creation of your mind: you could not have conceived an actual word that is unknown to you. You have to admit that that would be an unlikely coincidence. >

I’ve already met people who talk to themselves. But since I’m a basket case, I've invented an adjective and an imaginary gorilla is defining it for me. Can a mental illness of this magnitude even be treated? It’s hopeless–I’m definitely deranged. 

The animal disappeared from the screen and reappeared on the wall opposite the couch.

Speciesist? I’m going to look it up… or am I going to convince myself that I’ve looked it up and found a definition? I’m completely bonkers. It’s pure madness! It’s tragically funny though. Then again… let’s see what we can find… 

“What did you say?” asked Isabelle, hearing him murmuring.

“It’s back,” he said casually. “It’s talking to me.”

She seemed surprised by his calm demeanor.

“Where do you see it?”

He pointed.

“There. On the wall.”

“And what’s it saying?”

“It told me not to use the phrase ‘monkey business’ because it’s speliesist.”

< Speciesist! corrected the gorilla. Not speliesist. Speciesist. >

“Speliesist?” she wondered.

“Speciesist! Not speliesist. Speciesist.”

“Right! But what does that mean?”

“I really don’t know; I’ve never heard the word before. It defined it as discrimination based on species. Like racism is for race.”

“I… I think I’ve heard that before. Are you sure you don’t know that word? How could you invent a word that already exists? That would be an incredible coincidence.”

“That’s exactly what it told me when it asked me to look the word up. It also said this would clearly prove that it is not the fruit of my madness.”

Lucien easily found the definition. He then sat there thoughtfully scratching his chin and looking at the gorilla on the wall. It looked like it was animated now. The movements were barely discernible–its eyes blinked and the skin on its face rippled imperceptibly.

Isabelle, who had been watching Lucien for a while now from the corner of her eye, finally asked, “Can you still see it?”

“Hmm? Ah! Yes… of course. You don’t see anything there, do you?”

“All I see is a white wall, as a matter of fact!” she admitted. “You should really try to stop biting your nails, you know.”

“…”

“The definition of the word corresponds to the one the gorilla seems to have given you, right?”

Lucien noted that she said, “seems to have given you”. She was distancing herself from this ‘gorilla’ and he understood why.

“Well, yes… I suppose you’re thinking that I must have already known the word without being aware of it.”

“That’s the most plausible explanation, I must admit. It’s easier to believe that than to believe in an ape that only talks to you and that only you can see. I hope you aren’t angry with me. But, you know, whatever happens, I’m always in your corner.”

He pulled open the drawer in the table and took out a carved wooden box that contained everything needed to roll a joint. Putting a pinch of tobacco on a plate, he answered, “Of course, I’m not mad at you. I’m actually thinking along the same lines as you are, that I’m most certainly schizo.”

“Funny, it feels like you’re not as scared of it as you were before.”

He warmed up the lump of hash with the flame of his lighter, then began to crumble it and mix it in with the tobacco.

“True. I don’t know if this is the normal evolution of the illness as it gets worse, but I’m feeling pretty good about myself at the moment. Believe it or not, to my surprise, I was happy to see it again when it appeared, whereas just a couple of hours ago, I was dreading its return. I was terrified of it coming back.”

He rolled his joint, wet the sticky adhesive with his tongue, lit it up and puffed on it with a meditative expression. Three drags later, he handed the cone to Isabelle. She smoked on it for a while and declared, “Alright! I’m starving! How about you?”

“Me too. I’m starving. There are leftovers from the veal blanquette and some rice. I’ll go heat it all up.”

He took the dishes from the refrigerator and put them in the microwave oven.

< I think I heard you say that you are going to eat, Predator. >

< Yes, I am. >

< And what are you going to eat? >

< Veal blanquette. >

Lucien set the microwave oven’s timer to six minutes, pushed on the start button, and started pacing, hands in his pockets.

When the oven was about to shut off, he mentally asked, < Are you still there ? >

I am so far gone that I'm asking myself if I’m still here. How crazy is that! 

< Yes, I am. >

Lucien felt that this terse reply was staving off a terrible, barely repressed anger. He sensed that this ire was potentially and frightfully violent. What he felt was not reflected in the tone of the words, for they were not being said–their communication was nonverbal. But Lucien could still clearly feel it, and it struck him suddenly straight to the heart.

“What’s the matter? What is it now?” asked Isabelle, seeing him as white as the refrigerator.

< You are going to fill your obscene stomach with the flesh of a baby cooked in the milk of a cow who is crying over her own child. A baby that never even tasted the milk of its mother! Such cynical cruelty! Your spirit cannot feel compassion! Your saliva flows faster than your tears, and your voracious stomach speaks louder than your barren heart! >

Intense fury accompanied these word-thoughts. They touched Lucien’s soul as if she had unleashed the fires of hell upon him.

Isabelle carried the two plates over to the table. Since Lucien remained standing in front of the oven, she repeated, “So, are you coming? What’s wrong?”

“I’m coming, but I’m not really hungry anymore.”

8) Engrams

No longer having a body was not the only change she had been through. They had also made numerous experiments on the gorilla’s nervous system, with probably the most significant being synaptic amplification. Synaptic amplification had only recently been tested on living beings; trials up to then had been made using computer simulations. This discipline was so new that the experts in the field themselves were far from imagining what the outcome of these tests could be.

The impact of the synaptic amplification on her brain had been progressive. The animal remembered when she had felt the first effects of the experiment. The experiences of entire lives had suddenly been fed into her brain, along with extraordinarily vivid memories. The first life had been the life of a racehorse. One hour was all that had been needed for all the contents of the poor animal’s memory, from the moment of its birth to its dramatic death in a slaughterhouse, to be subsumed. Two days later, the same events repeated themselves, this time with almost the whole life of a dairy cow. The next day, she had absorbed a human being’s entire existence. She had read on the Internet that the bioelectric traces left by memories in the brain were called ‘engrams’ and that they were believed to be the material basis of memory. Nothing could explain, though, how, or why she was the one stocking all of these engrams, if that was what was in fact happening. At this point in time, she chose neither the source nor the moment. All of these events occurred through no will of her own.

Then, something new occurred. Someone she hadn’t noticed before was about to try a new experiment. She did not know what this person’s intentions were, but she knew the person was thinking about her and was planning on doing something to her. This was way more than an intuition–she had collected this information and knew that it was as accurate as if she had actually seen it herself.

*

Colonel Elijah Floyd was a man with a mission: to protect and maintain the secrecy of the SACI project. What was SACI? The mystery surrounding it and propagated by the Army was so impenetrable that he himself knew nothing about it, other than that they were doing research into the brain, and more precisely into synaptic amplification. He also knew that other countries were doing the same and that their intelligence services and counterintelligence agencies were all on full alert. It was the Manhattan Project era–when the first nuclear bomb was being developed–all over again. It was true that operational synaptic amplification would give the first army to possess it a definite military advantage.

Despite the considerable efforts and resources being implemented so that nothing would transpire, many rumors circulated. One of those rumors was that they were developing weapons that could remotely make someone lose their mind.

When the colonel came on duty, he barked out his orders.

“I want fifteen of our best men appointed to surveillance twenty-four hours a day! Four of them will be in faction in front of this fucking door! I want them armed to the teeth and ready to shoot the first unauthorized person to come near. I also want to get rid of this damned Internet.”

“Get rid of the Internet? That’s impossible, Colonel!”

“Okay, well, I apologize, I’m a little on edge. In that case, I’ll need the best experts in computer and network security.”

“I assure you that we have hired the best in the world, Colonel.”

Two days later, an event occured that shocked them all. Albert Mauras, one of the brain wave interface experimenters employed by SACI, committed suicide by slitting his own throat with a scalpel. It was so unexpected that it took everyone by surprise. The investigation established that no one could have foreseen this tragedy. The man had everything in the world to feel good about, and all the witnesses confirmed that he seemed happy.

Colonel Floyd was in a terrible state. He suspected that this was a murder disguised as a suicide, aimed at undermining SACI.

9) I’ve never heard of anything like this!

Isabelle didn’t know what to do. From her point of view, Lucien showed all the signs of a strange mental illness. She had discreetly contacted a psychiatrist to ask for advice. The psychiatrist had listened to her description of the symptoms. Frowning, she had rubbed her forehead and breathed out a disbelieving and baffled sigh.

“Over the course of my twenty-year career, I’ve never heard of anything like this! Could you convince him to come in and see me?”

“I’ll give it a try… I’ll try… But in this instance, what do you think it is?”

“For the moment, I know no more than you do. Most certainly a form of schizophrenia. Will he at some point remember that he already had heard the word ‘speciesism’ before? That remains to be seen… I’d like to have a conversation with him, and, if possible, with both him and his gorilla.”

“I’ll do my best to get him to come to your office. But whatever is happening in his mind just pops up unpredictably.”

“Yes, and if it happens while he’s at work, you won’t know about it. Unless he calls to tell you about it.”

“He hasn’t been going to work. He’s been lying on the couch all day lately. I can keep an eye on him that way because I work from home.”