The Horton Dilemma [ONC 2022]

A SERIES OF PAST EVENTS, REPLAYED

THE QUEEN OF GRASSHOPPERS'S FAILED TEDTalk |

On the ceiling of the auditorium are hundreds of spotlights, all shining directly on me as I make my way onto the stage, front and center. This auditorium seats thousands of people, but with the dazzling lights impeding my vision and the sound of my heartbeat drumming in my ears and my nerves getting the better of me, I'm unable to make out individual faces. In fact, I feel a bit woozy, the moment feels a bit surreal, and I wonder if something's about to pluck me out of this reality and tell me it was never really real in the first place.

My nails touch my fingertips, a grounding technique I learned from my therapist. The urge to pinch myself festers inside of me, my fear that this is not real—that it might just be a dream—still lingering.

I take three slow deep breaths, counting to four with each inhale and exhale. My mouth opens, and I begin to speak. "Hello, everyone. I'm..." I can feel it: the hand ready to pluck me out of this reality. It isn't real. I don't want it to be real.

I feel sick.

"I'm dizzy," I finally say, before running off the stage...

REGULAR CHAMPAGNE-FORTIFIED PITY PARTY |

...At The Coast, as I approach our lone table for two, Nakomi jumps up to embrace me, squeezing me extra hard for several moments before releasing me, probably to let me know how bad she feels for me and to give me the notion she cares. I notice she has already ordered each of us a flute of regular champagne; hers sits half-empty on the table.

"You couldn't wait for me, huh?"

"Of course I couldn't wait! I'm frazzled and depressed. Izzy, do you realize you're leaving me in 86 days? Off to the final frontier. Boldly going where no man has gone before and all that jazz."

The two of us sit, as I arrange my cloth napkin on my lap."Nakomi, I'm going to Mars, not to a new galaxy. 147 people already live there, including men. Many men have gone there before. And who knows if I'm even going anymore," I add darkly.

Nakomi gives me a look of pity. "How was your TEDTalk?" Why does she even feel the need to ask?

I look at her reproachfully; I do not want to talk about my failed TEDTalk.

She must realize, because she keeps talking. "Listen, I've put together a bucket list for us. To distract you..."

JOURNEY TO INNER SPACE |

...I'm on a red expanse, the night sky above me. Is this Mars?

I suddenly become re-aware of my own body, not the body I left behind but the one I'm projecting here. I sit atop a metal table. What kind of metal? I'm not sure...perhaps it's a metal without an existing place on our current periodic table.

Surrounding me are creatures, humanoid grasshoppers.

They begin to eat me.

I can feel it: chunks of my flesh bitten off by large grasshopper mandibles, sharp as scissors. The pain is enormous, and though it would normally make me wince, this isn't normal life. My eyes are locked on the grasshoppers' large, beady eyes...

This must be what they call a bad trip. Will I be in here forever? 

I'm never doing Vivecta™ again...

JOURNEY FROM INNER SPACE |

...The guide tries to sooth me by grasping my hand. "Are you okay, Izzy? Are you back?"

The grasshoppers are gone, but the negative feelings accompanying my visit to them are not. I feel like crying. "They ate me! I was on Mars, in a place that looked like a space station, and they ate me."

"Oh, you visited a space station! That's a common theme amongst users."

A common theme? I was just mutilated by grasshoppers, and Winston's talking about themes. He's probably trying to distract me. "What do you mean by theme?"

"Research has shown us that our brain waves are manipulated when we take drugs like Vivecta™. Each human brain shares a similar structure, and the drug manipulates each brain in the same way, which is why users experience similar episodes. Themed episodes, you could say."

Nakomi is suddenly next to me. She begins to tell Winston about her trip, but I can't stop thinking about being eaten, and I ignore the both of them.

"Well?" they say to me; how long have I been ignoring them?

"Huh?"

"What do you think your trip might mean?" Nakomi asks. "What do you think it might have taught you about yourself?"

Maybe I'm not in the right line of work, I think, but rather than voicing that aloud, I state my next thought: "Maybe I'm not ready to go to Mars."

Nakomi's face looks concerned. She takes my hand...

THE PHONE CALL |

...My pocket computer starts to ring. Gordon Goby's name appears on the plastic screen. Why is he calling me?

Although I have been thinking about leaving my life behind for this man, I hardly know him, and his notoriety does cause me to feel starstruck at times. In fact, I don't feel deserving of basking in his presence, of fielding his calls.

"Hello?" I hold the computer's camera close to my face.

"Izzy. I saw your TEDTalk. Wanted to congratulate you." His voice sounds sarcastic.

"Thank you, Mr. Goby. But I'd rather not talk about that..." I refrain from saying disaster.

"Izzy, you seem troubled. Are you having second thoughts about going?"

I've been afraid of this. Gordon is going to manipulate me out of going, make me think it was my idea so he doesn't have to tell me he doesn't want me to go himself. All because of that stupid failed TEDTalk.

"What will happen if I don't go?"

"I'll extend an invitation to the Queen of Leeches instead. But we'll miss you."

Sure you will, I think.

THE END OF THE QUEEN OF GRASSHOPPERS |

Trying to avoid all the bad press about my failed TEDTalk, my canceled trip to Mars, and my poor recent business decisions actually proves possible. My fingers never search for my own bad publicity, but I imagine it nonetheless, each harsh imagined word a hit to my ego. By the end of it all, I feel like a nothing. I've lost my sense of self.

Where do I go from here?

I start by calling Breonna, telling her that I want her to make Belvin farms more accessible to more people, that I want Belvin Laboratories to commit to ending world hunger. I just don't want to be a part of it, which confuses her, but she accepts my wishes nonetheless.

subchapter | memory

Human memory is terribly unreliable. Even the most intentionally "honest" recollections of memory are subject to new information, varied emotions, and changed perception. Humans are especially bad at remembering small details. Researchers have found that people can generate false details about past experiences while believing with certainty those details are true. Bad memory is often due to functions of our mind: To fill in the gaps in our memories. To repress harmful memories. To dress up boring memories. To exploit the malleability of memories to serve some emotional purpose. Some experts say that every time you recall a memory, your mind changes it just a little bit. Those memories that you recall the most are some of the biggest illusions by which you live.