Theorist
By Matt Shaner
I stepped off the train at 5:05 in the morning, shaking my head at how a train could be late this early in the day. After grabbing a coffee at a vendor stand I started to walk to work.
The five blocks were active every morning. I dodged joggers and trash collectors. The homeless slept in corners and over steam vents. The walk was uneventful but calming. I mentally prepared for the day. I checked my four voicemails and sipped the coffee. The strength almost made me spit it out. Just the way I like it.
I crossed the last block and an arm shot out of a small side alley, grabbing my coat.
Living in New York, I’ve been mugged before. It’s something one gets used too. I started carrying a spare empty wallet for the occasion and it saved me more then once. I pulled back to avoid the darkness of the alley.
“Help me,” a voice whispered.
“Get off my jacket.” I pulled my arm away. I started to walk.
“Wait. Roger Davis right?” I stopped. Crazy homeless people shouldn’t know your name.
“Listen. I’m not Roger Davis. Now let me go to work. You know, work? Yeah, the place you should be rather then here harassing me.” The man stepped out of the shadows.
He wore a suit, ripped and tattered. Moth eaten holes were scattered across the jacket. The legs were creased and the bottoms shredded against his walking. His shoes were dark, but dressy. The guy had a vibe of professionalism.
Two green eyes stared out at me from his face topped with thin gray hair.
“You are the one to help me. I’ve been watching you. I need someone to take the message out.”
“Okay, humor me, what message?” I looked at my watch. It told me I could spare ten minutes. This would make a good water cooler story for the day.
“I know it doesn’t look this way,” he glanced down at his frame, “but I am, was, a high level government official.” I started laughing. “You think it’s funny?”
“This is the best yet. Most guys try the alcoholic bit.” He reached into his jacket. “Hey man, don’t do anything stupid.” I held my hands up in a defensive posture. He pulled out a wallet and flipped it open.
A white badge flashed in my face with large blue letters. F.B.I.
“You stole it.”
“Check the picture.”
“Okay, it does look like you.”
“Will you listen now?”
“You know what buddy? Sell me. What do you have to say?”
He took a deep breath.
“I was involved in a high level government conspiracy.”
I leaned against the wall. This would be worth the few minutes. I nodded for him to continue.
“We just started work with your corporation to gradually disseminate knowledge and thought leadership relevant to our causes.” I worked at a financial company.
“What does this have to do with me?”
“You were top ranked at Georgetown; interned with senators; spent your days walking the halls of congress rather then the halls of a frat house. You are the perfect choice.”
“The choice for…?”
“You are the alpha agent. You are to be the beginning.” I had no idea how he knew my college history. The minutes were passing. By my count, he had two left.
“Can we finish this soon professor? I have work waiting.”
“Have you been promoted recently? Has your child made new friends at school? Has your wife suddenly found more women to befriend? They are starting the process.” His eyes lit up with the reflection of the streetlight. In terms of his claim, I’d say that, yeah they were expanding their social circles. I was promoted recently, but I’d been at the company for five years and it was long overdue.
“What process?”
“Tomorrow your son will be sick. The next day your daughter will follow. You will see a doctor who recommends a new vaccination for them and you. This will implant a biological entity inside you that will adjust the neural processors in your brain.” I started to walk away. He grabbed me again. “This process will change your health specifics. After you start the change, you’ll have twenty-four hours to pass it on before you die. There is a cure though. Go see a friend of mine at Cedars Sinai. His name is..”
“That’s enough doctor.” I turned. A blank white van sat at the curb. Two men in suits were standing there with a third in front. The one in front spoke.
“We apologize for the delay Mr. Davis. Enjoy your day at work.” They ushered me towards the building. I watched as the two men pulled the homeless guy into the van. One injected him with a syringe. He fell limp. Before I went inside, I heard a final yell.
“We’ll be in touch.” The van sped down the street.
The next week my son and daughter came down with the flu. I sit here in the doctor’s office waiting for them to come out and rubbing my arm. The doctor recommended a vaccination. He said the stuff was new and he needed to test it out. Now, I guess we wait for the results. My wife has a party tonight. I think I’ll go home and look up ways to communicate a virus. If he was wrong, great but if he was right, I don’t want to risk it.
- - -
My name is Matt Shaner and I am a writer from Reading, PA. I have short story publications online in various outlets including Twisted Tongue Magazine, Blood Moon Rising, Bewildering Stories, Clockwise Cat Journal, and my novella The Ancient Ones has been published in January 2008 by RS Publishing. My novella Life After Death was released through Eternal Press on March 7, 2009. Thanks for your time and consideration of my proposal.
By Matt Shaner
I stepped off the train at 5:05 in the morning, shaking my head at how a train could be late this early in the day. After grabbing a coffee at a vendor stand I started to walk to work.
The five blocks were active every morning. I dodged joggers and trash collectors. The homeless slept in corners and over steam vents. The walk was uneventful but calming. I mentally prepared for the day. I checked my four voicemails and sipped the coffee. The strength almost made me spit it out. Just the way I like it.
I crossed the last block and an arm shot out of a small side alley, grabbing my coat.
Living in New York, I’ve been mugged before. It’s something one gets used too. I started carrying a spare empty wallet for the occasion and it saved me more then once. I pulled back to avoid the darkness of the alley.
“Help me,” a voice whispered.
“Get off my jacket.” I pulled my arm away. I started to walk.
“Wait. Roger Davis right?” I stopped. Crazy homeless people shouldn’t know your name.
“Listen. I’m not Roger Davis. Now let me go to work. You know, work? Yeah, the place you should be rather then here harassing me.” The man stepped out of the shadows.
He wore a suit, ripped and tattered. Moth eaten holes were scattered across the jacket. The legs were creased and the bottoms shredded against his walking. His shoes were dark, but dressy. The guy had a vibe of professionalism.
Two green eyes stared out at me from his face topped with thin gray hair.
“You are the one to help me. I’ve been watching you. I need someone to take the message out.”
“Okay, humor me, what message?” I looked at my watch. It told me I could spare ten minutes. This would make a good water cooler story for the day.
“I know it doesn’t look this way,” he glanced down at his frame, “but I am, was, a high level government official.” I started laughing. “You think it’s funny?”
“This is the best yet. Most guys try the alcoholic bit.” He reached into his jacket. “Hey man, don’t do anything stupid.” I held my hands up in a defensive posture. He pulled out a wallet and flipped it open.
A white badge flashed in my face with large blue letters. F.B.I.
“You stole it.”
“Check the picture.”
“Okay, it does look like you.”
“Will you listen now?”
“You know what buddy? Sell me. What do you have to say?”
He took a deep breath.
“I was involved in a high level government conspiracy.”
I leaned against the wall. This would be worth the few minutes. I nodded for him to continue.
“We just started work with your corporation to gradually disseminate knowledge and thought leadership relevant to our causes.” I worked at a financial company.
“What does this have to do with me?”
“You were top ranked at Georgetown; interned with senators; spent your days walking the halls of congress rather then the halls of a frat house. You are the perfect choice.”
“The choice for…?”
“You are the alpha agent. You are to be the beginning.” I had no idea how he knew my college history. The minutes were passing. By my count, he had two left.
“Can we finish this soon professor? I have work waiting.”
“Have you been promoted recently? Has your child made new friends at school? Has your wife suddenly found more women to befriend? They are starting the process.” His eyes lit up with the reflection of the streetlight. In terms of his claim, I’d say that, yeah they were expanding their social circles. I was promoted recently, but I’d been at the company for five years and it was long overdue.
“What process?”
“Tomorrow your son will be sick. The next day your daughter will follow. You will see a doctor who recommends a new vaccination for them and you. This will implant a biological entity inside you that will adjust the neural processors in your brain.” I started to walk away. He grabbed me again. “This process will change your health specifics. After you start the change, you’ll have twenty-four hours to pass it on before you die. There is a cure though. Go see a friend of mine at Cedars Sinai. His name is..”
“That’s enough doctor.” I turned. A blank white van sat at the curb. Two men in suits were standing there with a third in front. The one in front spoke.
“We apologize for the delay Mr. Davis. Enjoy your day at work.” They ushered me towards the building. I watched as the two men pulled the homeless guy into the van. One injected him with a syringe. He fell limp. Before I went inside, I heard a final yell.
“We’ll be in touch.” The van sped down the street.
The next week my son and daughter came down with the flu. I sit here in the doctor’s office waiting for them to come out and rubbing my arm. The doctor recommended a vaccination. He said the stuff was new and he needed to test it out. Now, I guess we wait for the results. My wife has a party tonight. I think I’ll go home and look up ways to communicate a virus. If he was wrong, great but if he was right, I don’t want to risk it.
- - -
My name is Matt Shaner and I am a writer from Reading, PA. I have short story publications online in various outlets including Twisted Tongue Magazine, Blood Moon Rising, Bewildering Stories, Clockwise Cat Journal, and my novella The Ancient Ones has been published in January 2008 by RS Publishing. My novella Life After Death was released through Eternal Press on March 7, 2009. Thanks for your time and consideration of my proposal.
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