Round 9.11 [The Atheist v. Atmosphere] posted by kza

Okay, so the following is an attempt at sketching out a story for The Atheist that takes place on Earth, instead of an alien planet. As I’m writing this, I feel I should point out that I have absolutely no idea what’s going to come out, which is why I used the word “sketch” — this, in all likelihood, will not be using the sequence method, at least not in any kind of conscious, direct way. Hell, to be perfectly honest, I’m not even sure if the following will even be a story, in the usual sense, but more of a… “communication of a vision”, if that makes any sense. Probably not. Maybe I should just start writing, huh?

The Atheist

So the big idea here is that the Earth is, in reality, a prison planet. A long, long, long time ago, before there were any humans, aliens came by and deposited their criminals here, like some giant Australia. These criminals apparently did something so horrible that the best possible punishment was to drop them off on a planet that had only the most primitive form of life and leave them there forever. What did these criminals do? I’m not sure yet, so I’ll try and get to that later. More importantly, what kind of creatures are these aliens? How would they survive on a planet that contained only primordial soup?

Here’s an idea: what if the alien criminals are our own mitochondria, in our cells? Apparently (for reals, yo), mitochondria are actually ancient bacterial hitchhikers that wormed their way into our single-celled progenitor organisms billions of years ago — they even have their own separate DNA from ours. (Some theorize that humans and other living things are just vessels for the transference of information, both our regular DNA and the mitochondria’s.) What if these warden aliens dropped these critters off, thinking they’d just swim around in the goop for eternity, but they were clever enough to hop onto the evolution bandwagon?

So the warden aliens take off for the Warden Homeworld, leaving the Mitochondria Bandits to serve their sentence, but the Mitochondria Bandits — feeling they have nothing to lose? for kicks? to avoid being eaten by protozoa or something? — make their home in our progenitor cells. Every living creature has mitochondria, so they’re everywhere — it’s possible they’re the reason we’re here today.

Billions of years pass.

Now we’re in 2007. This is where the story would start, presumably, so we need a protagonist. Let’s call him Joe for now. (Obviously, the protag could easily be a woman — no reason why not — but I’m going with a guy for now. Latent sexism, I know. Sorry.) So who is Joe? I see two possibilities — either he’s some scientist-type (because a scientist-type will be necessary at some point, I think) or he’s just Regular Joe. I’m not sure which yet, though. Either way, he’s Joe, and he’s got the usual Joe problems. What are the usual Joe problems? Well, they can be anything, up to and including: spouse troubles, dad issues, mom issues, child issues, sibling is a no good rotter, sibling is a saint and makes Joe look like a no good rotter, health issues, mental issues, job insecurity, spiritual insecurity, and Geriatric Profanity Disorder, or G.P.D.

Since this is called The Atheist, spiritual issues seem like a shoo-in, but we’ll save that for a moment. The reason Joe has problems is because a) we’ll need them to make Joe relatable, and b) we’ll need them to help fill out the story, and hopefully the real problem of the story (the Mitochondria Bandits) and Joe’s problems will inform and affect each other.

But what is the real problem of the story? Right now, every living thing has millions of mitochondria in them, which are in reality the clones of interstellar terrorists (or something), but at the same time, they’re necessary for the survival of every living thing. It’s a status quo, and a static one at that. Something must upset it, or we’ve got an essay instead of a story.

Two things come to mind: One, in a direct rip from a good but very strange book by Greg Bear called Blood Music, someone (probably Joe) somehow is able to communicate with his mitochondria. More on that in a minute. Two, the Warden Aliens come back — maybe to check up on the Bandits, or maybe they’ve decided to free the Bandits. (Their billion-year appeal finally made it through the courts?) If they want to free the Bandits (Free the Mitochondria Trillion!), well, that’s gonna suck for Earth, cuz that means everyone’s gonna die.

It seems obvious to me that both events are needed, and are connected casually — the communication between human and mitochondria results in the Wardens coming back, which threatens the existence of humanity. Also, I think, in order to tie back in with the title and the notion of spiritual insecurity, the communication starts as one-on-one, but eventually spreads, so that by that last 1/3, either everyone on earth is talking to their mitochondria, or the reality of the situation is clear enough and everyone understands the possibility of extinction. This is the point that, to my mind at least, threatens the paradigms of most religions — that humans, all life, really, are the equivalent of automobiles, there to help move inhuman, value-less information (DNA) through time and survive.

But let’s get back to the guy who can talk to his cells. How the hell does that happen, anyway? Well, that’s the main reason to bring in a scientist-type, for some kinda bullshit scientist-type yada yada to get us to that point. (Is there a problem inherent to this sketch, that I use real science for the basis of the story, but am willing to relegate an important plot point to a fakey, bullshit explanation? Probably.) Still, bullshit or not, some kind of definition is needed here. Joe could be the subject of some kind of test, that has the (intentional or accidental) effect of allowing him to talk to his mitochondria. Or he could be the scientist that comes up with the test and tries it out on himself (the Blood Music option). It also could just happen one day. (For no good reason? Because this particular mitochondria has a conscience and wants to warn him that the Wardens are coming?) Regardless, it happens.

There’s a number of problems (both in the good “conflict” sense of the word and the bad “conceptual” sense) with a guy (let’s just say it’s Joe for now) talking with his cells. How, exactly do they communicate? In Hal Clement’s Needle (another book I’m, uh, “inspired” by), a cop virus on Earth looking for a criminal virus gets inside a teenager, and it communicates with the kid by using flashing words on his retina, that he can see when he’s looking at blank wall. So there’s one idea. Of course, it could just talk in Joe’s head in English, like as if it were his own thoughts or a conscience. (It seems like the first one works if the technical details of communication are important, but the second one, while easier — and thus, less interesting — has more thematic and metaphoric possibilities.) Dreams are another possibility, but I can already tell I don’t like that one. Another idea: Morse code. Maybe the mitochondria causes throbbing in Joe’s body that he can read as Morse code. While that makes sense from one perspective (that the mitochondria communicates in pure information, binary code, off and on), from another it looks pretty silly.

Regardless, there’s a communication, and clearly that’s going to have an affect on Joe’s “Joe Problems”. One possible way of structuring the early part of the story is that Joe’s getting these messages and no one believes him — he’s not even sure if it’s real or he’s going crazy. This could be even more difficult if he’s from a religious background or has a religious background that he’s rejected. What the mitochondria is whispering into his head is probably pretty blasphemous at the least, and pretty shocking even if he really is an atheist or an agnostic.

But what is the mitochondria telling him, exactly? And why is it telling him anything to begin with? Earlier, I suggested that this particular mitochondria has a conscience, and knows that the coming of the Wardens means the death of all life on Earth. (This brings up another question: are all the mitochondria in the world individuals? Or all they all clones of the same, say, 12 original convicts? And if they’re clones, do they have telepathic communication with each other? Do they act as one organism? Or are we, in effect, back to the individuals again? The answer is necessary for an important question: why this mitochondria, and why Joe?) But back to the other question: what is it telling Joe, and why is it telling him?

It’s probably telling him the background that we’ve already set up: alien convicts, billions of years ago, life is ultimately a vehicle for their own continued survival — everything that is important to humans (love, morality, power, fame, etc.) is truly meaningless, a byproduct not unlike the exhaust from an SUV. All well and good. But why? Assuming I don’t want to use the conscience thing, what else could motivate this particular Bandit? Well, the flipside to a “good” motivation is a “bad” motivation. What if the Bandit is manipulating Joe for some reason? I’m not sure what that reason would be, though. Right now, though, I’m presuming that the Wardens are on their way and are going to kill everything on Earth if nothing unusual happens — unusual here meaning that one of the convicts starts talking. So maybe with a bad convict, it wants to somehow manipulate Joe so that he brings the Wardens that will free the convicts at the expense of the Earth. Good idea, but I have no idea how he’d do that. Still, the notion that not only are there intelligent cells in Joe’s body that can talk to him, but can also lie to him is pretty tasty.

Clearly, however, at some point Joe comes to believe this communication to be real. This no doubt causes all kinds of problems in his family, friend, and work relationships, but it seems like there should be at least one person (child? spouse?) that believes him. Nothing original there — the “supportive character” is pure archetype — but it seems necessary. So right now, I see the first 1/3 or so of this story being about Joe realizing that he has these convicts inside him, and his acceptance of that and his belief in their story. What then?

Joe has likely changed because of this experience. He’s not going to be the same guy he was at the beginning. (Although the usual “arc” for a character is that he/she changes at the end of the second act, and that change is tested in the third act, a change can technically happen at any point, and be tested from that point on.) It’s likely that he’s broken ties with a number of people, and has changed his views on a number of subjects. How does he feel about his newborn son, knowing that the only purpose of his existence is for the criminals inside his wife to continue their existence? How does he reconcile his life as a human being, what it means to be a human being, with the knowledge of the true purpose of life on Earth? There’s a temptation to fall into nihilism — does he resist?

Okay, I’ve hit my personal limit of 2000 words, and I’m far from finished sketching out what this story is to me. I’ll continue this in Round 9.13 if it’s warranted.

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