Time and The Sociopath

Ever try and think to yourself what everyone else is thinking, try to imagine that everyone thinks about everything just as much as you do? To imagine that behind every other person you see on the street has their own life, unable to totally comprehend the complexity of the millions of people on the planet's independent thoughts all somehow depending on everything that happens and everything that they do to one another? As a sociopath, is it that they don't see this, or that they are one of the few people who truly understand this system of thoughts and emotions. They realize that through the small actions they take that they can take control of their surroundings. Is this an inhumane thing to do? Is it inhumane to play by the rules of the world and try to win this game that we've been born into?
         It is the curse of the sociopath to constantly think about this, to wonder that while they sleep, they know there are thousands of people running around, that the world doesn't stop just because they do, that anything could happen while they sleep. Just because they have survived thousands of sleeps themselves without consequence doesn't mean that they couldn't die tonight, that a bomb could be launched in Russia that hits the neighborhood they reside in purely due to the ignorance of one scientist. This could happen, the odds are against it, but the fear the sociopath feels is that he has no control over it.
         At the age of three-hundred and eight I don't have to worry about dieing in the middle of the night. I have been granted immunity by the government, and have been effectively frozen at the age of thirty-five. It is an honor granted only to those who have made a major contribution to the well-being of humanity. This could be in reference to anything, a war hero was granted immunity just twenty-five years ago for killing the three leaders of the major religious bodies, effectively ending discrimination based on religion for the entire planet. By killing the leaders of the Christians, Jews and Muslims, all other smaller religions instantly grew fearful of growing larger, and planted a seed of distrust in religion being able to protect them. These days people want a more direct approach to faith, they want to be able to feel and touch the results. I was granted immunity for re-engineering the human body. With my innovations humans are now immune to any kind of virus or disease. Cancer is now non-existent in the human race, and no longer to people suffer from pro-longed drawn out deaths.
         Because of all of these genetic modifications the world has also become incredibly over-populated, forcing the government to take drastic measures. They have started to fight over-population first by eliminating anyone over the age of sixty-five. After that they realized they still had about twice as many people inhabiting the planet than they could handle. The repercussions from being so over-populated would have been disastrous, with people suffering severely from hunger, and all natural resources would have been gone in the space of five years if the population kept expanding at the rate it was. They decided on another means of doing this.
         I was a member of the military at that point, part of a special unit of other people granted immunity. There were five of us total, all of us there because we had been drafted and had done a great benefit to mankind. All of the planet's citizen's were sent a card. Every card said that there was a safe place to go before we destroyed half of humanity, but they had to leave immediately. Half the cards sent people to Australia, the other half were sent to Greenland. We were sent to Australia and took place in a twenty year hunt in which we eliminated that half of the world's population as quickly as possible. We were being paid by our government to kill millions of people, and we were given any means we wanted to do so. They fought back for awhile, but we couldn't be killed. I remember a group had caught me with a tranquilizer. They kept me in a cage and tried to starve me into telling them how to escape, how to survive this. Eventually when I wouldn't tell them they decided to kill, effectively eliminating a fifth of the people trying to kill them. They decided to do it through a hanging. They dropped me thirty feet off a cliff with a noose around my neck.
         The weird thing about being immortal is that while you can't technically die, if something that would cause you to die happens, you get transported to a weird kind of parallel universe. Science has proved that this is just a drug created by your bod being pumped into your brain. Still though, it feels like dieing. This was the third time this happened to me. I was hit by a sixteen-wheeler once trying to run across the highway, and another time I was shot by a cop after he thought I was holding a gun. The last thing I felt before the world slipped away was the rope going tight, and hearing my neck crack. Then I was transported tot his world of light and colour. An overwhelming sound surrounds me but is never unpleasant. I float over to a wall and touch my paw lightly against it. The wall changes shape and ripples out like water. I open my fifth mouth and sing, but I don't hear it. I see a person walking towards me on every layer, I see their clothes, their skin, their soul, their mind, thoughts, heart, organs, everything. It's not like an x-ray, You see it all at once, but you don't really have to focus on one, you see them all at the same time. I try to run, but I suddenly feel strings tied to my legs and they start pulling me backwards. I fall and hit my nose on the ground. I don't feel any pain though, Instead I just feel my face melt and contort to the shape of the ground. I look behind me and I see a bright, blinding light, and I'm being dragged towards it. I tear my upper body away from my legs and desperately try to grow them again as I drag myself away. I don't want to go back, I never want to go back. There's no pain here, it's pure and perfect. I feel the strings cut into my head, my neck and throat, wrap around me and prevent me from moving. I'm dragged back to the light, it engulfs me, all I can see is light.
         Suddenly I'm hanging by the noose again, and I can feel my neck fixing itself. I'm not breathing, but I don't notice, it'll come back soon enough. I reach one hand up and grab the rope above me. I exert all my strength pulling myself back up the thirty feet. Several hours have passed with me hanging there, it's night-time now. I remember taking that first breath when the noose slackened around my neck again, it felt natural and good, like I was human again. I pulled myself over the lip of the cliff. They hadn't even left anyone to guard it in case I hadn't died. I was angry, furious that they had caught me and killed me. It felt like a defeat, like I had lost. That was good though, it would help me sleep at night later, after  woke up from a nightmare, memories of these years spent hunting my fellow man in Australia.
         I got to their camp shortly after. I hid in the bushes and crawled on my stomach till I was behind one of their guards. He had a machete hanging from his side, obviously gotten from one of the native Australians before this whole incident blew up. He was holding a shotgun in his hand. It was remarkable how many people had come to Australia prepared, bringing firearms of some sort just in case it was a trap they were walking into. I crept behind him until I could smell the cologne on his neck. I quickly kicked the back of his knee, and he fell quickly, then I grabbed the shotgun and it went off in his face. He went down quick, but the entire camp had been alerted. I left quickly, I was tired from the days events, and wanted to return to my other companions. None of them were surprised when I came back to the camp covered in blood. One of them even smiled, so I shot him in the face. They all laughed at that, and it caused me to smile a little to. He woke up a half our later, his face back to normal.
         I don't have trouble anymore thinking about the people I had to kill, I have a slight detachment to the human race in general now. I've grown old enough to be to my great-grand children's funerals. That was the most depressing day of my life, and I stopped affiliating with my family after that. I have trouble sleeping now because I'm starting to feel dehumanized, I've stopped caring about the human race just because I know it will all change completely in the next hundred years, and I know I'll be there to see it.
         I decided today that I've grown tired of this planet. It will always be home, I'm aware of that, but I've recently found proof of Alien races. The planet is to ignorant to find this yet, I'm sure that someone somewhere is keeping the secret from the rest of the planet. I figure there must be a reason so I decided not to tell anyone either.
         One thing the government is useful for is taking care of their “Immortals”. We are practically gods to this planet, and are treated as such. I hate it myself, I hate being known wherever I go and have ended up in the news a couple times for killing people who wouldn't leave me alone. I know it seems drastic, but considering the over-population the police decided to turn a blind eye to my actions. I called the vice-president today “Hey, Bill?” I ask, knowing full well it's him, I called his cell after all.
         “Yeah? Who is this?”
         “It's Jack.”
         “Jack? Oh, Jack Bradson, how is it going?”
         “Good as always. Could you do me a favor?”
         “Anything, you know that.”
         “I need a lab.”
         “For what? Going to re-engineer humans again?”
         “No. I want to build a space ship.”
         “You know I could just get you one, no need to build it yourself.”
         “I'm over three hundred years old Bill, I need something to occupy my time.” He laughed at that.
         “Alright, I'm going to give you the number of our lead scientist. What do you plan to do with it?”
         “I've been talking to this Alien over in the Nebulous galaxy. I'm starting to grow tired of Earth.”
         “Alright. Remember our policy against Alien races here. We don't need to go through another discrimination revolution for Alien immigrants.”
         “That's never happened.”
         “But it could”
         “Bye Bill”
         “Bye Jack”
         I hung up the phone. I thought about what he just said awhile, ironic how opposed to change the current generation is now that everything seems to be fixed. That just means the cycle will repeat itself, a couple generations down will re-vamp everything and the world will begin anew. The circle continues. My wall shimmered quickly and the electronic voice came on through my intercom. “Bill has entered a new number into your address book.” “Dial the number now.” I'm smiling now, it's a foreign feeling, I haven't had anything to smile about in a long while. I'm glad I suddenly have a new hobby to occupy my time for a few years.
         “Hello?” The wall shimmers into view, a skinny scientist type is on the screen. He's wearing a white lab-coat, and behind him I see the cold white walls that all labs seem to have. I don't know why, it doesn't seem to serve any purpose really.
         “Hi, I'm Jack Bradson.”
         “Jack Bradson! May  thank you for helping...”
         “Shut up.”
         “I'm sorry sir, it's just that you...”
         “I know what I did, Bill said that you can get a lab for me.”
         “Bill? Oh, Mr.Clinton. Yes I believe we can arrange that. Lab 2148 is free, just send me a copy of your retina scan and I'll have it ready for you first thing tomorrow.”
         “And it will have everything I need?”
         “What are you making”
         “A spaceship, a fast one.”
         “How fast?”
         “To go to the Nebulous galaxy in ten minutes.”
         “uh, Sir, that's not possible.”
         “I'll worry about that, just make sure I have access to everything I need.”
         “Alright sir, Do you want any helpers?”
         “Yes. Three should be enough but I'll tell you if I need more.”
         “Yes sir. I'll see you in the morning.”
         I switched the call off. I'm not looking forward to seeing that little prick tomorrow. It bothers me to be so admired by these people, not understanding how much I gained in the process. It's a special kind of hell being admired forever, knowing that you have things better than anyone else and yet their willing to give you their life's savings if you asked for it. Maybe I think to much, I sometimes wonder how simpler things would be if I didn't care about other people, and when I think about that I feel myself slipping towards being a sociopath, playing people like pawns. I'd rather have people admire me for what I did rather than have me manipulate them into liking me.
         I wake up first thing in the morning and bounce out of bed, I'm ecstatic to start the day, and I can't wait to get to the lab. I get dressed quickly in my suit and tie. I wear it every day, mostly because I just like to look proper. I've recently started wearing a fedora with it, making me look like an Italian mobster. Not that anyone I'll see in this age will know what that is. They haven't had to worry about Mafia's for decades. I eat a quick breakfast, a bowl of Fruit Loops. One of the few things humanity got right the first time around. I always eat it with chocolate milk. I remember when I was a kid my mother lecturing me about having so much sugar in my diet, how my teeth will rot. Now that there's no risk of that happening I happily remember those times with a sense of irony sprinkled on it. I go outside and jump in my '69 corvette. My 1969 corvette. Now that there have been two more '69 corvette's I feel the need to specify on that. I've modified the car a lot since I bought it though, it is now purely an electric car, just like every other car in the world, and I've re-designed the engine so that the car tops out at thirteen thousand miles an hour. I rarely get it that fast, and no one else in the world drives their car above two hundred miles an hour. Without the fear of death though I have fun pushing my car to the limit. I crashed it once, I swerved to avoid someone who had run a red light and slammed into the side of a Starbucks. I bounced off the walls on the inside and was knocked out for a couple minutes. I was fine though and got up. I ordered a coffee while I waited for the police to get there. That was the first Starbucks coffee I ever had. I still go there every morning.
         This morning was no different and I dropped in the local Starbucks. The guy working there recognizes me, he was a new hire three months ago. He looks to be around early twenties.
         “Hey Mr.Bradson.”
         “Hey Jeff. I told you, call me Jack.”
         “Of course. How is it going?” He's already making my coffee, the same way he makes it every day, I don't have to order it anymore. A regular large coffee, three sugars, two milks, a squirt of vanilla, and then they use this odd metal device that creates a nice foam on the top.
         “It's going great.”
         “What are you up to today?”
         “Why are you asking me?” We usually talk for about ten minutes every morning, he doesn't make a big deal about me being immortal, so I don't mind talking to him. I usually leave once enough people come in and start whispering behind me.
         “Well, this is the first morning you didn't answer me 'It's going'” I laugh at this, the kid picks up on details quickly.
         “I found myself a hobby yesterday. I'm on my way to work on it.”
         “What kind of hobby?”
         “You won't tell anyone right Jeff?” I don't really care whether he does or not, I'll outlive the consequences one way or another.
         “Of course not sir.” He hands me my coffee and he already punches it in to the government account. I take a sip. It tastes great, as always. Over the years I changed the coffee from the black one I got when I wrecked this same Starbucks.
         “I'm heading over to NASA. They set up a lab for me to make my own Space ship.” He stops what he's doing and looks at me.
         “For real?” I smile, I enjoy reactions like this, of utter disbelief.
         “Yeah. For real. I called the President last night and arranged it.”
         “Wow. It must be fun being able to do anything you want.”
         “It's interesting.” He thinks about this a bit, and keeps working, another customer is in line, so he takes her order quickly. She takes a second and looks at me. She recognizes me, so I try to look as pissed off as possible so she won't talk to me. Everyone remembers that person I killed for admiring me. While Jeff is making her coffee, some socialite multi-frappé kind of thing, I say “You want to drop by and see?”
         “Really?”
         “Yeah, just call my cell.” I write it down on a napkin quickly. “I'll come pick you up and bring you by. You can help me work on it.”
         “Definitely sir. When would be a good time to call?”
         “Anytime, I probably won't sleep tonight.”
         “Alright, sounds like a plan” He smiles, he looks happier than I've ever seen anyone. I leave while the woman's asking some question about whether the coffee is from Asia or China. I smirk, knowing that it's all made in the same place, they just change the place of origin for marketing purposes.
         I leave the Starbucks and look around. The shops are just starting to open, everyone walking around looks half asleep still, all obviously not happy about being up this early. I smile as I climb into my corvette, I always like starting up the engine first thing in the morning. It roars to life and everyone looks around to see what's making the noise. This is one of the few times I enjoy everyone staring. I whip out of the parking lot and am on the highway. I turn on the mp3 player in my car, and start blasting some “Master of Puppets”. It's an old song, and I constantly have people asking me what it is. When I tell people it's “Metallica” they always give me a blank look. Most of the time they are wondering why it sounds so scratchy. I never really understood what they meant, but audio recording has grown in leaps and bounds since the revolutionary “Master of Puppets” album. I like to listen to a lot of classic rock music. I watch my speedometer in my car quickly rise, I feel the wind whip by, I see the dashed lines on the highway slowly blend together into one solid line. The highway is separated into three lanes now. They have one for going over five hundred miles an hour, one for transitioning from the slow lane to the fast lane, and the slow lane, the only lane with a speed limit of two hundred miles an hour. I'm always in the fast lane, and I see people on my right in flashes, kids screaming, a guy showing off his new stereo, a bunch of kids smoking something they bought at Wal-Mart.
         I end up at NASA in about a half hour. I pull into the lab parking lot. I get out of the car and step onto the sidewalk. I still enjoy walking on sidewalks. I actually requested that the President makes sure sidewalks are never replaced by something making it faster to get around. It gives me time to think. I pull out a pack of “Colts” mini cigars about the size of a regular cigarette. They are also five times as bad for you, but smoking isn't dangerous anymore for anyone, lung cancer being impossible thanks to my innovation in genetic engineering. I taste the smoke lazily drifting from my lips. I fidget with lighter in my hand. I still use the old-school ones, the one's that little kids would always be amazed at how adults lit them, but never could themselves. I enjoy the sparks shooting off it like little fireworks every time I use it.
         I walk up to the lab, and press my face against the retina scanner. I feel the laser caress my retina, scan all the invisible little details. The door slides open and I walk inside, tossing the butt of my smoke away. I walk inside, my shoes squeaking against the floor. There are three recent graduates from NASA's college program eagerly waiting for me. They're wearing name tags. The first one is Frank, he's Caucasian, hair stuck up with some kind of gel. He clearly thinks he's the coolest thing that breathes air. The second is Susan, a very intense looking blond. She looks very focused, obviously worked her ass off to get here. The third is a small Asian guy, Allan. He's got these big seventies glasses that are making a comeback according to “ETainment”. They all look very eager and ready to work, all wearing white lab coats. “Hey guys.” No one says anything, they just keep staring at me. “Look guys, we're going to be working together for a few years, so it would be great if you could loosen up a bit.” They still don't say anything. I turn to Frank,
         “Hey, you, why aren't any of you saying anything?”
         “Well, Sir...”
         “Don't call me sir, my name's Jack, use it.”
         “Sorry. It's just we're intimidated by you. Your one of the most celebrated scientists of the day.”
         “I know. And you guys are going to be this generations, so we're even.” I smile, hoping to loosen them up a bit. It works, they all smile and seem a little bit more relaxed. Susan is the next one to speak. “So, what are we going to be doing?”
         “Well first, take off those lab coats. For me this is a hobby, so I don't need everyone looking professional.” They all look nervous for a bit.
         “What?” I ask.
         “Well, at the college, they said that we'd be automatically failed if we ever were in the lab without a lab coat.” Frank said, clearly feeling uneasy about this. None of them are used to someone treating science so casually.
         “You all graduated right?” They all nod “Then your okay. Change into some regular clothes and meet me in the drawing room.” They look at each other and leave to get changed. I get changed to, a suit and tie isn't really good for a project like this. I put on a white tank-top and a faded ;leather jacket I keep in my trunk. I feel a little more relaxed now, and go up to the drawing room.
         When I get there they're already waiting, I take out another Colt and light up. I take a deep drag on it and let it out slowly, tasting it again. They all keep watching me. The girl speaks again “So, we still don't know what we're going to be doing.” She's wearing a pink blouse that she brought with her and jeans. Very plain looking. “Well, today, we're just going to be doing a small project so I can get an idea of how you all work.” Frank speaks next. He's wearing a T-Shirt for some death metal band, and has on a pair of aviator glasses. “So what are we making today?” I take another drag on my Colt. “You smoke Frank?” he looks surprised by the question. “Uh, yes.” he says. I toss him a Colt. “Goes with the look.” The other two laugh and Frank smiles as he pulls out a lighter. “What about you two? You want one?” They both shake their heads no. “So what are we going to make today?” I smile at Allan, he seems to be looking forward to this. They all still seem a little apprehensive around me, but they'll loosen up eventually. “Today we're going to make five aircrafts.” They all look surprised. Frank chokes on some smoke. “Five?” He asks, lowering his glasses to look me in the eye. “Yeah, Five.” they all look... flabbergasted. That's a good word, almost the perfect word to describe their faces. “That's impossible.” Susan says. I don't say anything to this. Then Allan speaks up “Well, we should get started then.” I look at Allan “Now there's an idea. Anyone have an idea of what they would want?”. They all look at me blankly again. “What? Don't you guys have any thoughts?” they're all still looking at me like I have three heads. “Well, we were told that you would tell us what to do.” I look at Frank. “Yes, and you are graduates from a NASA college. You are just as qualified as me, maybe more, to make an aircraft. So I'm asking you guys for ideas.” They all stop and think a bit. Then Frank speaks up, “Maybe something small, fast, like a sports-car plane idea.” I'm glad they're starting to think. They need to loosen up a bit and realize that their ideas are going to matter just as much as mine. Eventually through a flurry of ideas being thrown around I get a very badly drawn sketch of what resembles an old f-1 fighter. “Allan, your good at technical drawings right?” Allan nods. I walk over an give him the chalk. “You have five minutes.” He looks scared “Sir that's not fa...” I cut him off “Clock's ticking.” He quickly jumps up and goes over to the white-board. In fifteen minutes he has the sketch finishes perfectly. He looks defeated. “I'm fired, aren't I?” He says to me. I laugh and he looks surprised. “Of course not. I still need you around.” He looks a little angry “Then why did you tell me to have it done in five minutes?” He looks furious, he actually thought his career was over. I felt a little bit bad about it, but he'll get over it. “I needed it done fast, after all, this project is 'impossible'” I winked at the girl as I said this. She got a little red and turned away. “Alright, I guess we better get started.”
         We worked for eight hours straight on these planes, we finished all five of them, but they looked very scrappy, no paint or finish on them yet. I looked at my team. They were all covered in oil and had scratches all over them. They looked beat, like they had run a marathon. But they were all beaming, they were very proud of what they had done. “Alright guys, you've done some good work, take a break and then we'll get these painted.” They all thanked me one by one as they went by, all of them very proud of themselves. I felt my cell begin to ring in my back pocket. I flipped it open, it was Jeff, he had just gotten off work. I waited a little and listened to my ring-tone, “Rock and Roll all nite” by Kiss. Very old song, very generic mainstream but still one of my favorites.
         “Hey Jeff” I said into my cell, slipping a celebratory Colt into my lips.
         “Hey Jack, I just got off work.”
         “Alright, I'll come by and get you now. Can you wait ten minutes?”
         “Yeah, sure, I should clean up a little more anyways.”
         “Alright, see ya.” I clicked off the phone and went up to the loft where we designed our vehicles. All of the team were sitting around the table, Frank had his feet on the table. He took them off the instant he saw me. “Don't worry about it Frank, relax. Who wants to go for a ride?” Allan was looking very tired “Where to?” “I just need to go pick up a friend, he just got off work. I told him I'd show him what I was doing.” They all looked at me, scared again. “But, it's forbidden for a citizen to be in a NASA lab.” Susan was quite clearly quivering a little, knowing the consequences if someone found out she had allowed this. “Don't worry, I have immunity from every law ever devised. I'll make sure nothing happens.” “Are you sure?” Even Frank was looking a little nervous about this. “Positive, come one.”
         We jumped into a van I had made in a different lab a few years ago when I was bored one day. It doesn't go quite as fast as the corvette, but it can hold everyone. Everyone piled in and I climbed in the driver seat. We rolled out onto the highway and I put the foot to the floor. Everyone was quite shocked I was driving so fast. “H-Hey, Jack? I know you can't die and everything, and I'm all for daredevil stunts, but I'm a little uneasy with this thousand mile an hour van.” Frank was nervous. As macho as he tried to be, he was obviously more of a wimp than you would think at first. “Listen to some music and stop worrying.” I told him, and I switched over to a Cream song, very well known song back in it's day, but the others obviously hadn't heard it before. “Who's this?” Susan asked “Eric Clapton and Cream! They were one of the best rock bands back in the day.” They all looked at each other. “What?” I asked. “Well, no offense, but we learned about Eric Clapton in history class right after the Iraq wars.” I laughed a this, I thought it was funny for some reason. Suddenly classic rock stars are showing up in history books.
         We stopped just outside the Starbucks and we piled out. Jeff was waiting outside. I walked up to him and gave him a good handshake “How's it going Jeff?” I said, “Well, I'm off work, so that's a plus I guess.” He looked a little nervous, but I guess I would have been to. We were all covered in oil and looked like we spent the last eight hours inside the engine of a car. “What have you guys been doing?” He asked. I grinned at him, purposely trying to make him feel uneasy.
         “Here we are!” I say with great bravado as I walk along the line of planes we made. “Everyone pick one!” The four of them looked at me. “Are we going to fly these?” Allan asked. I love watching them try to comprehend these half-baked plans I've laid out before them. “Yeah, yeah we are.” Jeff seemed a lot more open to this idea than any of them, and quickly went over and pointed to the one next to mine. “I want this one!” He said confidently. “Alrightm the next step, everyone paint your planes!”
         We spent the next to hours painting designs on our planes. After Jeff finished his he walked over to me “Hey, Jack.” “Hey man, what's up?” I say without taking my eyes off the letter I'm painting. “How are we supposed to take-off and land these things? I don't have any pilot training.” I look up now, he's quite pale at the prospect of flying. “Don't worry, Allan over there, he made a program so that the planes can take off and land themselves. You won't have to worry about that at all.” He looks very relieved as I say this, and he walks back over. I finish up the last letter on my plane and stand up to look around. Everyone has finished their planes now and I take a minute to see how they painted them. Susan's plane is red with a golden eagle silhouette painted on the side, and she painted her initials on the wings in a very decorative style. Frank's plane is A deep blue and has a tribal pattern across it in light blue, he has the number fifty-six painted on the side. Allan's plane is all black and has binary across it in a neon green, just like the code that runs across the screen's in The Matrix. Jeff has painted a Guns and Roses logo onto both wings of his planes and has painted vines wrapped all around it. My plane is simpler painted, I put a single red racing stripe on it and wrote out the word “Immortal” on the side in bold type.