Fast Thinking, Genius

Time has a way of messing with my head, thought Jeremy Vitters. He laughed at himself. There he was, the scientist that NASA deemed crazy, now ironically standing at the podium in Stockholm Concert Hall. He cried out and raised his fist as the scientific community that used to condemn his efforts now applauded him. The Nobel Prizes for physics and physiology were now his after he discovered a fundamental truth about the speed of thought.

In Jeremy’s distinguished scientific paper, which was reviewed by theorists and experimentalists alike, he proved that thoughts are not what we thought of at all. The 51-year-old scientist did indeed discover that the concept of ideas and thinking is faster than the speed of light. In doing so, thoughts also travel backward and forward in space-time. No matter how many people refuted the idea, Jeremy’s math checked out.

As the King of Sweden readout Jeremy’s contributions, cheers from over 1,000 people bounded across the hall. To the frustration of the other Nobel Prize winners, Jeremy pridefully thought. The noise died down when Jeremy took the podium and gave his appreciations to the crowd. The time for a speech was evident when the hall silenced. Jeremy was thrilled that he was allowed to do so during the award ceremony itself. Speeches are usually for after the ceremony. But not for my achievement, he thought.

“Thank you all again for this momentous occasion.” He bellowed into the microphone. The crowd swelled once more. Jeremy looked across the blackened podium and saw many that had what he would call ‘professional’ smiles to go with their weak clapping. One critic, Stuart Dewitt, did not cheer once. Jeremy didn’t need to read his mind to foretell his thoughts. Hell, he didn’t care. Today was his day. His victory. That bearded sag can just go and drink his wine, Jeremy thought with a gritty smile of his own. Jeremy grabbed the microphone and walked to the side of the podium. The media crept closer with their cameras like vultures sizing up a morsel. Lecture time.

“I proved that thought patterns re-occur throughout history!” The crowd roared. Lights flashed. “I proved that Science fiction has the potential to be a scientific fact just through the merit of existing!” Jeremy bathed in the vibrations. “We can freely surmise that our ideas thrive across the eons because the thought of them travels across the eons!” His heart was beating with the rhythm of excitement. “I proved that the déjà vu phenomenon is not just in our heads, but shared in space and time!” The clapping was deafening.

“And I proved that I can read minds!” Jeremy was Einstein.

The clapping had abruptly stopped. A click from a shutter camera echoed. Jeremy, still drunk with revelry, barely registered the change in mood. Jeremy’s paper proved that thoughts travel outside of space-time, not that we can physically pluck them from the air and hear them consciously. He cleared his throat at the quizzical looks.

“Well, I think so, anyway.” Jeremy quickly mustered. The crowd laughed sheepishly, and the ceremony went on.

Jeremy received his Nobel Prizes, and now was time to leave the concert hall and rest at the hotel. However, as Jeremy approached the limousine, he discovered someone sitting inside the cabin. The man smiled at him. He was freshly shaven, with gray hair to go with his military cap. He was donning the signature dark blue formal wear of the United States military.

“Jeremy Vitters? I don’t believe we’ve met.” The man said, motioning him inside. Before Jeremy could say anything, a similar-looking man at arms had not-so-graciously ushered him into the limousine. Jeremy was going with them whether he liked it or not. So, he rolled with it. The car door slammed as the other unknown officer forced him into the middle of the cabin. --Blocking any chance of escape. “What’s this all about?” Jeremy asked of them. “If it’s about my research, I’ve already released it. There’s nothing more to--”

The gray-haired officer that spoke before interrupted him now: “Oh, I know there’s more. At least, now I do.” What? Do they know something? Jeremy thought. His look must have given him away because his captor smiled: “Forgive me. I’m Lieutenant Jermaine Freed. I’d like to pick your brain.” Jeremy shivered.

Jermaine laughed calmly: “No, that’s just a joke Mr. Vitters, I’m not going to dissect your brain.”

“Doctor Vitters,” Jeremy replied.

“Hmm?”

At that retort, Jeremy was seething: “It’s Doctor Vitters. I’ve worked too hard to avoid that crass distinction.”

“My apologies, Dr. Vitters. Titles can be hard for me sometimes,” Freed said casually.

The man to Jeremy’s right side startled him as he went to move. For a split second, Jeremy thought he was going to pull a gun on him, but instead, he pulled out a small black box. He handed it to Jeremy. Upon opening it, he saw a familiar and small metal wad. A device.

The device! Jeremy thought. That was locked away in my hotel safe! Where did they --?

Jermaine stroked his chin and interrupted him: “So, what is it, Dr. Vitters?”

“It’s nothing!” He answered. But everyone knew it wasn’t just nothing.

The device looked like a crumpled heap of tinfoil over a spaghettified mesh of copper wiring sitting precariously on a black plastic square base. However, each intricate crevice of metal paper surrounding the wiring had been successfully tweaked by Jeremy to slow down faster-than-light thoughts and convert them into weaker electrical patterns. Jeremy knew that underneath the crumpled metal and wiring framework, a small speaker was soldered inside the base. At the center of the base was a singular small hole. A USB wire protruded from the back.

The man that had presented the box grabbed Jeremy’s arm in response. Scared for his life, Jeremy conceded: “Wait! Wait. Okay?” The idiot let him go. The lieutenant stared expectantly.

“It reads passing thoughts. The metal and wires slow them down. T-the speaker can hear them in real-time. The USB powers it.” Jeremy couldn’t get rid of the bad taste in his mouth from spilling his secrets just like that.

Jermaine gave Jeremy an incredulous look. “Really now. Okay. Bob?” The lieutenant gave his lackey a look. The brute that just grabbed Jeremy scoffed again and knelt to open a small cabinet on the side of the cabin. In it, Bob retrieved a metal military laptop with the labeling: U.S. Department of Intelligence | Official Business Only. Jeremy pensively watched as Bob carefully took his experimental device and plugged it into the computer. Suddenly the hole at the center of the device shone a hue of green. The small LED light inside indicated that the power was on.

The small speaker slowly emanated a warped hum and scratch similar to that of an idle gramophone. The sounds of silence were interrupted with passing whispers. --Likely the thoughts of people driving close by. Suddenly the speaker squeaked: “what was that?”, “is it working?” “oh my god” “think of the applications.” “it really works.” “it sounds off” “that’s not my voice”

The overlapping phrases sounded more electrical than human. --Like they belonged to synthetic angels. You couldn’t tell who the owner of the passing thought was.

“fuck you!”, The speaker blared.

As soon as they heard Jeremy’s proclamation from the speaker, the soldiers looked at him. Before they could do anything, Jeremy shot his hands out to grab the device and managed to get a firm overhand hold. The metal paper on top gave way to slight pressure. “wait,” The scratched noise came from the speaker at the same time Jermaine said it.

Jeremy scrunched it with his hands as the speaker fizzled and popped a small “no!” before shorting out. The lieutenant screamed: “What have you done!?” Bob pulled out a pistol and pointed it to the side of Jeremy’s head. He punched Jeremy with his other arm and forced him to look at Jermaine. Fearful for his life, Jeremy fought back with words: “You don’t want to kill me. I got it all in my head, and it doesn’t matter if you dissect my brain either!” As Jeremy was making his plea, Jermaine fiercely interjected.

“Do you not realize the importance of that device?” He spat.

“I do! That’s why I destroyed it!” Jeremy screamed. Bob let go of Jeremy’s head and cocked the gun.

“Bob,” Jermaine intervened.

With that, Bob reluctantly pulled the gun away. Jeremy shuddered.

Jermaine continued: “How long was it since you finished this device?”

Now numb to the questioning, Jeremy just answered truthfully. “Since Yesterday.”