This was a writing exercise that follows my other short story, “Gab with the Buddha”

“Sir, I think you better see this,” Ensign Roe said, handing him a report.

“What’s the bruhaha, Ensign? I was just about to go to lunch.” Colonel Smythe hated reports right before his shift ended.

The ensign swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down under his collar. “It’s Simulation 00710, sir. There’s a Potentia flare alert. You, ah, said you wanted to be notified.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” he sighed, as his stomach growled. “Let’s see what going on.” He grabbed the lighted tablet. “These flares have been happening more and more. Interesting. Well, keep me posted, son. This seems like a small one, no need to get too excited.”

Colonel Smythe handed the tablet back and was about to leave the bridge for Six Aft and his afternoon meal when Ensign Roe stuffed the tablet under his arm and started walking with him.

“Can I ask why you need these Potentia alerts, sir? Most of them are small and don’t affect the simulation in a significant way. Simulation staff can notify you about the more extreme flares and monitor all else as needed.” He struggled to keep pace with the Colonel, who regardless of his rotund size, walked like gravity didn’t dare impede his desire to get from point A to B.

“Ensign, the order stands. All Potentia flares are significant.”

“But sir, I don’t understand…”

As they rounded the corner into the ship’s mess hall, Colonel Smythe was immediately met by the Chef assigned to command officers. “Sir! I’ve had your Bongolian stew waiting. I’ll just make sure it’s the correct temperature and bring it right out.” He bowed slightly and turned back toward the kitchen.

Colonel Smythe grunted and made his way to his private table, next to a window showcasing millions of stars streaking through deepest space. “Ensign, have a seat. Can you tell me what Potentia flares are? What they signify, why we study them at all?”

Ensign Roe suddenly looked like a rabbit staring down the face of a shotgun. “Um…”

“Let me save us both some time. I’d like to eat my meal in peace.” The Colonel rubbed his chin. “Well, the short answer is, nobody really knows what Potentia is. As you know, there are 12 holo-simulations that we monitor. Simulation 00710 is what is known as a hell planet but what the Builders called ‘earth.’” A waiter came and set down a glass of iced tea. The ensign was ignored.

“A hell planet? That sounds dire,” Ensign Roe said.

“Each simulation was meticulously designed by the Builders, and each has a different purpose. Earth is perhaps not the most violent, but it’s the most devious. It has the whole spectrum of good and evil, rather than say, simulation 00714, which is a chaos world. Or simulation 00703, a world of peace, having no matter at all. A difficult world to interpret to be sure.

“But back to earth. Earth is the only simulation that expresses this phenomenon of Potentia, a state of vibration so high, that the individual expressing Potentia ceases to exist in the simulation at all. And that, Ensign, is significant.”

“Sir, the individual with this current flare continued to exist in spite of exhibiting Potentia. The report states that an earth female entered a small café, ordered a meal, made her selection, and returned to her seat. After eating, she departed.” Ensign Roe got a faraway look in his eye as he paused. “But the report did show a matter fluctuation in the simulator. The monitoring technician thought it might be an energy glitch in the matrix, and we are checking that out. There is no doubt this woman’s materiality altered, hence the alert.”

The colonel leaned forward. “This is why our jobs are so important. What happened to this earth woman? In a controlled environment, how could her simulated form alter, even in a minor way? Why does this only happen in the earth simulation? And finally, how does this inform the potential for our own evolution?”

A waiter politely set down a steaming bowl of Bongolian stew, its deep, earthy aroma making the ensign think of his own hollow stomach. He was just about to thank the colonel and head to his own lunch, synthesized and far less appealing, when the colonel dug his spoon into his bowl and continued.

“You know, earth’s Hindu mythology states that their universe goes through four great epochs, each of which is a complete cycle of cosmic creation and destruction. They call them yugas, and once the fourth yuga ends, the cycle resets and begins again. Currently, the earth is in Kali Yuga, the phase most riddled with despair and violence. Our scholars feel that those who reach a permanent state of Potentia are the seeds for the reset and the start of Satya Yuga, the first stage.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, but if we live long enough, we might find out!”

Ensign Roe lowered his voice. “Is it true, sir, that some of our earth scholars request to permanently enter Simulation 00710?”

Colonel Smythe jerked his head from his food. “Where did you hear that?”

“Ru-rumors in the academy, sir.” He swallowed convulsively.

“Ah, well, there have been a few. A very few. Some of them are so enthralled with Potentia, that they give up everything for the chance to experience it. But make no mistake, almost all of those end up insane or die within the first year. They just can’t handle the sensory overload.”

“But some do survive? Have any of them reached…?”

“Ensign, it’s time for you to let me have my lunch now. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

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