The Dangers of Saving a Life

Chapter 20: Chocka

Hock note: While Milo and Kwin get to know each other, Captain Max has failed to arrest Professor Aidan, Milo, and the infant yet again. If you remember, Dr. Chocka was quite angry when Captain Max returned empty-handed the first time. What do you suppose he will do now?

"Good morning, Dr. Chocka,"

The head and shoulders of the cartoon girl were superimposed over the image of the Andromeda galaxy, filling the wall in the back of Chocka's practice, hundreds of billions of stars turning slowly in a swirling spiral. He chose that background because it reminded him of the grandiosity of Axion.

"Your first appointment for today has arrived for his neuron adjustment," the cartoon girl said with a smile. "He is the prominent businessman Berat Aanstelling. He pays you very well. You know he doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Chocka dismissed his assistant with a wave of his hand, fighting his anger. Axion was bigger than his anger. How large was the universe? How many particles called axions filled the cosmos? They moved in precise symmetrical patterns, creating a massive universal consciousness, the patterns forming its thoughts. Together they were Axion. How big was Axion? How small was Chocka's anger?

He stood in the back room of his practice, a bare room without furniture, simply plain white walls. This was a place where he could converse with Axion alone—no distractions. There wasn't even a chair. He stood when he meditated.

Nobody had the right to ask questions of Axion. He had asked a question once, long ago, when he was young and brash. The experience still terrified him. He had learned his lesson. He would never question Axion again. He would simply listen and obey. 

His neural interface connected with a magnetic antenna mounted in the room, enabling his brain to see the thoughts of Axion. These were not like triangles or squares or other such simple physical objects. The thoughts of Axion materialized as squiggly representations of higher dimensions, colorful forms that floated through his mind. He didn't see them with his eyes, although it appeared that way. His mind projected the images through his visual cortex, seemingly superimposed over the plain white walls.

A sharp beep punctuated the room, disturbing his concentration. At the same time, the wall lit up a brilliant red. His anger flared as the wall displayed the head of the cartoon girl over the swirling galaxy.

"Berat Aanstelling demanded that I ring you again," the smiling face said. "He is waiting."

Chocka fought down his rage, regaining his composure. "Tell him Chocka is out for the day."

The cartoon lost her smile. This time, she presented a stern face to him. "Berat Aanstelling is a very important customer. You wanted me to remind you of this every time he had an appointment. What should I tell your invaluable client?"

"Tell him Chocka is not available today. First, call a car for Chocka."

He rode a short escalator up to the rooftop port of his floating practice, tethered by a flexible sky bridge to the large Atraville Hospital complex. He stood there, high up in the air, the wind whipping through his bushy hair, gazing out over Atraville. The supernatant spires reached up into the sky. But just beyond, he could also make out the minuscule rectangle of the college.

"How small is Chocka's anger?" he said to himself. "Smaller than this little college."

A car soon descended directly in front of him, hovering a short distance above the surface of the port. Its door opened, and he climbed in. As the car whizzed him from the roof of his practice to the college, his sheet rang. When he pulled it out of his pocket and carefully unfolded it, the cartoon face of his digital assistant shone through the sheet.

"Your customer, Berat Aanstelling, insists that you honor your appointment with him right away. He will not leave until you do so."

Without answering, he neatly folded the sheet and carefully slid it back into his suit pocket. His car merged with other cars dropping students off at the college. When the door lifted up, he climbed out with his bag in his hand and joined the students heading off to their morning classes.

He followed a map on his sheet that directed him along the concrete walkway to Newton Hall. There was a two-story block building on one side called Feynman, a funky-shaped building on the other side called Wright, and the round dome-shaped Einstein building before he reached Newton. He stopped briefly to gaze up at the top floor.

"How small is Chocka's anger? Smaller than this little building."

Once he climbed the long set of concrete steps and entered through the glass entrance, he found the foyer of Newton buzzing with activity. Various-sized groups congregated before heading into their classes. Most moved toward a large lecture hall on the first floor. He followed, sticking his head inside for a moment. There, the tall professor with hair combed straight back stood at the front of the class, preparing for his lecture. Instead of taking a seat in the auditorium, however, he continued on through the foyer and down the hall.

He had just arrived in front of an interweaving helical escalator when his sheet rang. It was the cartoon head of his assistant again.

"Berat Aanstelling demanded that I contact you to tell you he is still waiting for his appointment. He is quite upset. He is yelling at me."

He carefully folded up the sheet again before he slid it methodically into a gravitational trash compactor at the edge of the foyer. Then he rode the escalator up to the top floor. When he stepped off at the top, the place had been ravaged like a combat zone. Two octopus-like construction workers fitted a new door for an entrance.

"Excuse me, please," he said, pushing by the robots.

Construction workers pounded, drilled, and sawed, repairing holes in the floor and ceiling.

"Hello?" He yelled to be heard above the clamor.

A tall student wearing jeans and a tight white shirt answered. Loud silver beads clasped the front of his shirt.  Worse, he bore the red marks of disobedience all over his body. Many of them did. So much disobedience to Axion.

"Yeah?"

Such a rude young man, speaking to Chocka in that manner.

"Chocka would like a word with Milo Skart, please?