Awareness

What is the moment when we first become self-aware? When we realize that we are individuals with our own thoughts and feelings? Where do our memories even begin? My first memory was when I was four or five, watching Star Trek and waiting for my brother to come home from school. At least, that’s what I count as my first real memory, and perhaps my first moment of self-awareness. It’s different for everyone, of course. Some claim to remember things when they were one or two years old. There’s even a chance that there are people who retain no memory of any event at all, or who haven’t yet or never will come to any type of self-awareness whatsoever. I can’t vouch for them. I can only vouch for myself.

I suppose before we become self-aware, our time is so taken up with discovering the physical world around us that we have no opportunity to discover the world within. We’re caught up in touching, tasting, smelling, seeing, hearing, and wondering about everything in the outside world, discovering things that in the present day have become mundane, but at the time, we couldn’t imagine there being anything else to life except that. Nothing deeper. Nothing more personal. Maybe it takes some epiphytic event, no matter how insignificant it might seem later on, to trigger our sense of self-awareness, and maybe that newfound self-awareness is the just the first step in forming lasting memory. Maybe our self-awareness serves as an anchor for those discoveries, helps make sense of it all, puts everything into a unique perspective that we can understand and retain. Maybe those discoveries help shape us in ways we don’t even notice and help form our individual styles and personalities, even our ethics and morals. And maybe the whole process is supposed to prepare us for the madness that comes later in life.

I wasn’t prepared at all.

A red velociraptor in an orange jumpsuit was pointing a tubular device at me, which I could only assume was a gun of some sort. To that end, my hands went straight up into the air in the universal sign of surrender. It was reflex. I’m an American, after all. I know what guns can do.

He, she, or it had come out of nowhere to… no, that isn’t quite accurate. I should get this right, or as close to correct as I can, if I’m going to relate this story properly. For the record. A velociraptor had stepped out of a transparent donut suspended in midair, made out of either the air itself or space-time, or something more technical, like timey-whimey stuff or something, and held a supposed gun on me, not only demanding my immediate surrender, but also vaguely accusing me of crimes that I hadn’t even committed. Oh, did I mention that this was over sixty million years ago? And that I was the only human being to ever exist because of my own screw-up?

Do you see now why I wasn’t prepared? Who could be for something like that? Just wait, though. It gets worse.

He, she, it, or they cocked their head curiously, like a bird. “You don’t look like much. I expected you would be taller.”

It had some nerve saying that. It wasn’t any taller than me, and I thought velociraptors weren’t supposed to be much bigger than a medium-sized dog. But I wasn’t about to argue with an armed dinosaur, so I let it slide. Pick your battles wisely, my Pop always said. You’re less likely to get shot that way.

“And what are you doing?” it hissed irritably, gesturing over my head with the weird device. I glanced up but didn’t see what the dinosaur was talking about, and it noticed, which made it even more irritated. “With your paws! Why are they in the air?”

I didn’t quite understand, and it hissed menacingly. “Put them down or I’ll fire!”

“I don’t think I can.” I was too terrified to move. Decades of American news had drummed into me just how dangerous guns could be, and now that one was pointed right at me, it was overwhelming.

“Do it,” the velociraptor urgently hissed. “Or I open fire!”

I squeezed my eyes shut and dropped my arms. Luckily, it didn’t open fire at the sudden move, so I pried my eyes open a bit for a little peek. The dinosaur cocked its head at me, demanding, “What were you doing? Was that some kind of trick?”

That was brow raising. The dinosaur either didn’t recognize the universal sign for surrender, or it was the suspicious type, and I had a feeling that it might shoot if I tried explaining myself, so I didn’t even bother. But my silence only irritated it further.

“Don’t play games with me,” it growled. “I’m watching you! Now, power down the remainder of your systems!”

That raised my brows even higher and I glanced helplessly at the Interface, but she just regarded me blandly. She wasn’t going to be any help whatsoever, so I stared at the console instead, but that didn’t help either. It still made absolutely no sense to me.

“What are you doing?” the velociraptor demanded. “I told you to power down! Now, do it!”

My arms stiffened at my sides as a whole slew of scenarios flew through my head. Should I dive for the floor when the shooting started, or make a run for it, zigzagging for cover? Should I try to overpower the creature instead? Or should I throw a bunch of switches and hope for the best? I didn’t bother trying to figure it out, though. I knew exactly what I was going to do. Chicken out.

“Look.” My voice trembled as I spoke, but I couldn’t help it. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m telling you that you have the wrong guy. I don’t know who you are or why you’re after me, but -!”

The velociraptor hissed sporadically and it was so frightening that I couldn’t finish the thought. I remained rigidly in place while it laughed, and when it finally caught its breath again, it hissed, “Is that really the best you can do?”

That was shocking but I still didn’t turn around. “I beg your pardon?”

“This isn’t you?” it hissed. Curiosity made me glance over my shoulder, but shock made me turn fully. It held a small silver box in its other claw, about the size of a folded phone, with a brilliantly blue screen that threw an image in the air, and that image was me. It was just my head and shoulders, but it was like looking in a mirror, if that mirror also slowly rotated your reflection to cover all angles. As impressive as the technology was, it was unnerving seeing myself like that.

“Where did you get that?” I asked, unsure if I even wanted an answer.

“At the scene of your last crime, of course,” it hissed. It squeezed the box and the image changed to a scene of me running for my life through some sort of military compound. I peered at it carefully. It didn’t look like it, but it had to be CGI, then an entire building exploded in the background and suddenly, I knew why I was running.

“That’s not me,” I protested. I pointed at it for emphasis. “I’ve never been there before in my life!”

The dinosaur trilled in what I could only assume was a sarcastic manner. “Don’t play games with me! There are hundreds of witnesses that place you on the scene. In fact, there are hundreds of witnesses that place you at the scene of every one of your attacks, and holographic evidence to corroborate their story. You are an alien menace, and you won’t be harming the Empire ever again!”

That wasn’t very encouraging, and I had nothing further to say. I knew when I was being railroaded. Not that I’d ever been railroaded before, but I’d seen it on TV plenty of times, and this was a railroading if ever I saw it. I didn’t know if that little device was manufacturing the evidence against me right on the spot or if it was doctored surveillance video, but I knew that there was nothing I could say to convince the dinosaur of my innocence, so I didn’t even try.

“Now, power down,” it commanded. “Then, I’m taking you into custody!”

I glanced at the console. It still made no sense to me. The console, that is. The video didn’t make sense, either, but that was something else altogether. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Of course, you can,” it hissed, adding a snap of its jaw. “Now, do it!”

I squeezed my eyes shut, as well as every orifice in my body. I knew what I had to do, and I didn’t like the odds of surviving it, but if the movies had taught me anything, it was that sometimes, you just needed to bluff your way out of a situation. Taking a deep breath, I put on my most detached expression and turned to face my captor.

“I’m afraid that if you want this ship powered down,” I said, lifting my chin brazenly, “Then you’ll have to do it yourself!”

The dinosaur hissed menacingly and snapped its jaw. Its weapon claw twitched, grabbing my full attention, then it shook its head violently, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was calling my bluff, I just knew it was, and I wasn’t prepared for that. The weapons claw twitched again as it gestured at the console, but I forced myself not to react.

“I said, power down,” it firmly hissed.

Something wasn’t right. I didn’t know what it was, but I did know one thing. The dinosaur was more qualified for the job than I ever could be. And it bothered me so much that I griped before thinking it through first. “What difference does it make who powers down the ship?”

The velociraptor shook its head violently. “Just do what I say and power down!”

I admit that I’m pretty thick. That’s probably why I asked, “Why can’t you do it?”

The dinosaur shook its head harder and snapped its jaw. “Just do it! You’re right there, anyway!”

That raised a brow. I glanced at the Interface, but she just shrugged. That was no help! I was on my own again, but some things were starting to fall into place.

“Are you saying that you don’t know how?” I was only bluffing to entice the creature to do it for me, but the raptor suddenly froze dangerously still and stared at me with unblinking eyes. It was silent for so long that I knew I had stumbled onto something, and believe me, I was just as shocked as anybody. I was riding so high on that little triumph that my mouth kept going before my brain could stop it.

“You don’t, do you?” I should have kept quiet, but I didn’t have the ability. “You haven’t a clue how to operate this ship! That’s why you need me to do it for you!”

The dinosaur bobbed its snout randomly for a moment, then blurted, “Alright! Yes! You’re right! I don’t know anything about your controls!”

It extended the weapon at the console. “Now, shut it down before I do it my way!”

I glanced from the weapon to the Interface. A hint of worry leaked through her stoic facade. But I was on a roll, and there were no brakes.

“No, you won’t,” I replied.

The dinosaur shook its head. “You want to make a wager?”

I stepped into the line of fire, and the raptor froze, watching me intently. I glanced at the Interface. She held her chin high but didn’t interfere. I didn’t expect her to, anyway. It was the stupidest thing I’d ever done, and it was about to get stupider.

“If you wanted me dead, you would have already done it,” I said, parroting what the Interface had said earlier. “And if you wanted this place destroyed, you would have done that, too. You have the weapons for it. But you didn’t. Now, why is that?”

The dinosaur shook its head. “You’re going to stand trial for your crimes!”

That sounded so reasonable that I nodded, but it still didn’t sound like the full picture. “Okay, but what about the console? You have a ship just like this one, so operating it should be a breeze. Right?”

The dinosaur growled but didn’t speak. And it kept the weapon pointed at the console.

“Unless your ship isn’t like this one?” I glanced at the Interface, who had inspired that line of thinking. “We were wondering about that, weren’t we?”

“The molecular composition of the other craft is consistent with materials found on Earth,” she finally said. “The other capsule is either a copy of the original design or a very coincidental parallel development.”

The raptor’s dewlaps twitched at the mention of a copy, and I knew that I was onto something. “You need this vessel intact, don’t you? You can’t destroy it or anything inside it because you need it…”

That’s where my train of thought ended and I had to deboard. Luckily, the raptor provided the rest.

“Yes, it’s true,” it hissed softly, undulating its head as if swallowing something whole. “You’ve destroyed so much of our work that with this vessel, we’ll finally have a complete time machine, and after we take it apart, we’ll have a whole fleet of them! But why are you acting so ignorant? You’re the one that destroyed the laboratories working on the project!”

That was brow raising, too. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It snapped its jaw. “I find that difficult to swallow.”

It took a moment for the ramifications to sink in. If the dinosaurs were successful in taking the ship and taking it apart, then I had no chance of correcting things and getting back home. Although I had no idea how to correct things either, I still had to keep the ship in one piece first, and hopefully, myself as well.

“Believe what you want,” I told it, deciding to keep brazening it out. “But I know that you need me as much as you need the ship. You need my intimate knowledge of its inner workings or else your little plan will fail.”

I pretended not to notice the quiet titter that the Interface thought she was hiding behind one hand, disguised as a little cough. The dinosaur froze, corroborating my theory. I stepped forward and held out my hand.

“I’m not going to let you have anything,” I told it. “Not this ship, and not me, and I know that you won’t shoot either of us. So, give up and give me the gun.”

The raptor cocked its head curiously. “Who says that I won’t shoot you?”

I hesitated, but I had gone too far to back down. If my bluff was going to work, I had to steam ahead. “You need me.”

“True,” it said, leveling the gun at me. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you.”

“You’re bluff-“

The next thing I knew, I was waking up on the floor of a darkened closet. Clothes hung all around me and there were shoes everywhere. Nothing was tidy or neatly arranged. I knew immediately what happened.

“A closet! Really?” But I was talking to myself. I was all alone. Not even the Interface was there. I went to the door and tried it, but something blocked it from opening. Something very heavy.

“Help me.”

The voice was tiny but very distinct. A child’s voice, and they were frightened. I looked everywhere but couldn’t see them.

“Where are you?” I called. It seemed weird to be worried about a single child when the whole of time and space was in jeopardy, but really, I could only process one crisis at a time and the current one easily overrode the other, so I added, “Let me know so I can help you.”

“They’re going to hurt me,” the child whined. “They’re going to take me apart!”

That was alarming. Who would be so evil as to hurt a child?

“Where are you?” I demanded. “Are you in the closet with me? If you are, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you!”

“Please help me,” the child pleaded, their voice stronger than before. “They already called the others. They’ll be here any minute and then they’ll take me apart! Please help me!”

“I can’t help you if I don’t know where you are,” I called back, wondering over the curious phrasing. What dastardly villain would dare cut an innocent child apart? “Just tell me where you are!”

“I’m here,” the child said. “With you.”

That was a relief. At least I had a chance of helping them. I just had to find them, but it was really weird how well they could hide.

“I’m in the console room,” the child added. My brows knit, and the child said, “I’m watching. It’s talking to the others. They’ll be here soon! Please, help me!”

I closed my eyes. Out of all the weirdness that had plagued my day thus far, this was possibly the weirdest thing to happen. I had a guess as to who the child was, but I was still reluctant to ask.

“Are you the ship?”

“Please, help me,” the child replied. “They’re going to kill me!”