The first two acts of 2001: A Space Odyssey which we have been covering on recent Saturdays, function more as preludes. Act 3 is really where the story begins.

In the opening, Dr. David Bowman and his partner, Dr. Frank Poole are flying to Jupiter on their ship, Discovery One. It is piloted by humanity’s newest AI, the HAL 9000. There are also three other scientists on the ship — in hibernation. The plan is to wake them up once the crew reaches Jupiter. So far, things seem to be going well, although HAL immediately comes off as arrogant, declaring itself free from error multiple times as the story progresses.

Soon, HAL reports that a part of their satellite is about to malfunction. So Bowman and Poole go and replace the supposedly broken part. However, when they inspect the AE-35 unit, Bowman can’t find anything wrong with the device. Mission Control also confirms that the part does not appear to be broken. It looks like HAL made a mistake.

HAL cannot make errors

Of course, HAL is unwilling to admit such a thing, insisting the fault is a human error. This worries Bowman and Poole. Because HAL can hear everything aboard the Discovery, the two hide in one of the shuttles and turn off the communications. Inside the shuttle, they discuss what they’re going to do, and it doesn’t take them long to conclude that it would be best to shut HAL off.

Unfortunately for the two scientists, HAL can read lips.

HAL then tell them that there is another problem outside the Discovery. When Poole goes outside to fix the issue, HAL somehow ejects him from his shuttle, and he goes flying off into space. The tube supplying air to his space suit is also disconnected, but the audience is never told why. Bowman takes another shuttle to retrieve Poole, but it’s obvious that his friend is dead.

The famous scene at the door

After retrieving Poole’s body, Bowman returns to the ship. But when he asks HAL to let him back inside, HAL refuses.

Now, before moving on. I should discuss the subject of AI. Both Clarke and Kubrick treat AI as a potential threat to humanity, but for different reasons. Kubrick treats HAL as a very cold device that is basically protecting a set of secretive orders. He kills the hibernating scientists and Poole because — since he knows the true nature of the mission — shutting him off would risk the mission’s failure. Clarke has a different take. In the novel, he states that HAL’s secret orders were inconsistent with the AI’s prior programming, and the two opposing directives created a conflict inside the robot, something similar to a conscience. Because the machine is feeling something akin to guilt, he murders Poole in an attempt to cover up his lie about the broken AE-35 unit.

Both interpretations serve the narrative, the idea being that mankind’s greatest opponent is going to be the technology he created. Personally, I find Kubrick’s interpretation more persuasive. I don’t see a toaster forming a conscience, but I can see a robot choosing to prioritize conflicting orders. Mission Control’s directives would most likely override whatever prior programming he’d received.

Bowman must now enter the ship on his own, which he does with relative ease. Thankfully, Kubrick didn’t write his scientists as complete idiots. They weren’t stupid enough to give HAL full control of the ship. Bowman is able to reenter the ship through an emergency hatch and he immediately goes to the room where HAL’s hardware is located.

HAL slowly unwinding

He begins to turn HAL off, one floppy disk at a time, and here is probably the best scene in the movie. It’s certainly one of the most iconic, and for good reason. As Bowman deactivates HAL, the robot begins pleading with him, telling Dave that he is afraid. This is where Kubrick’s brilliance really shines. Is HAL really sentient, or does the robot think Bowman will be won over by sympathy? The audience doesn’t know. The movie never tells the audience what to think. If only more films were so clever.

The Monolith returns to center stage

Once HAL is turned off, a message from Heywood appears. Heywood explains the situation with the Monolith. The movie fades the scene before Heywood can give Bowman the full message, but the audience knows enough. Bowman needs to find whatever the Monolith on the moon was signaling to. It could be another Monolith. It could be something else. But either way, Bowman must uncover the truth.

The main complaint I have with this portion of the film is, as I mentioned last Saturday, is that the film could’ve benefited from showing HAL in a more positive light at the beginning. But the second act with Heywood had already established the positive aspects of technology so there was nothing to do but present HAL as an ominous threat. Right out of the gate, the robot puts off unsettling vibes, which works great with the atmosphere of the film. The viewer is constantly expecting something to go wrong. This is good. HAL’s voice and creepy demeanor serve the story well.

Again, I just feel the story would’ve been better if the positive and negative aspects of technology were both demonstrated through HAL directly. But, provided the viewer isn’t thrown off by the second act, the dichotomy is established well enough that HAL, as an ominous presence, still serves his intended purpose. This portion of the film is the most famous for good reason. It accomplishes what it’s intending to do.

But could AI really rival humanity?

Could the nightmare scenario represented by HAL actually happen? I believe that it all depends on how humanity treats AI. The film itself actually serves as a good example of what I mean. As long as mankind remembers that AI is a machine and things can go wrong, I don’t foresee any problems. As long as the scientists don’t give the robots full control of the ship, any issues that arise can be solved. But if mankind starts taking Clarke’s approach, I can see any number of terrible futures. The issue isn’t how advanced AI becomes; the issue is whether or not mankind will be foolish enough to try and build its own god, one made of hooks and wire, rather than wood and gold. When Bowman reaches Jupiter, he sees the Monolith floating in space. We will look at what happens then next time.

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Doubt besieged my heart as we crossed the mountains. Its subtle effect was corrosive, eating at the soul’s defenses like acid. I all but ignored the orange hue in the air and the long, razor-sharp peaks that broke the smog-like clouds into rolling, writhing sheets. The mountain pass was not deep. Unlike the first pass from the tarmac to the town, this set of mountains seemed more like the wall of a city.

We crossed the pass after only a few minutes, rounding a bend and seeing an enormous basin. In the center of this grass-and-shrub-covered plain was a large city, although, to me, it looked very unlike any city I’d seen on earth. As bizarre as the description may seem, between the circle of mountains surrounding the city and the shape of the buildings themselves, the whole area reminded me more of a nest filled with eggs than anything else.

While the town’s buildings looked like eggs whose bottom thirds had been buried in the dirt, the city’s skyscrapers appeared to be silver or glass eggs stretched into tall, narrow ovals. The base narrowed from the center of the structure, while the top climbed toward the sky, random windows and jewels spattering the surface of each building. To keep the buildings upright, a diamond grid of gold or black scaffolding ran from the widest portion of the oval skyscrapers to the ground. Panels of glass filled the cells of the diamond grids holding up the silver skyscrapers, while the cells of the scaffolding connected to the glass skyscrapers were empty, and ribbons and flags fluttered in a small breeze. It was as if people climbed that scaffolding to see whose ornament could wave above the rest. Something like Christmas lights were wrapped around the black and golden frames, adding to the city’s orange glow.

As with the town, there was no road, only the sidewalk, which did widen as we reached the perimeter of the city, and once we’d passed the first of the skyscrapers, the sidewalk and buildings’ lots all merged into one sheet of asphalt. Shrubs and flowers lined the base of the buildings, but they could hardly be seen under the scaffolding. Streetlights, emanating the same orange hue from Madulluel’s ship, cut the sidewalk in half and were scattered throughout the area.

Canvas awnings hung over the doors and the various carts that were carrying all sorts of goods. Most of the alleyways ended with industrial doors, which opened and closed as the land craft the crew had mentioned before flew out of the alleyways carrying various kinds of freight. I had seen three other ships on the tarmac, so it seemed to me that more freight was moving out of these buildings than the ships could carry.

I’d never seen these land craft before. They were open vehicles, shaped similarly to a four-wheeler with a long, narrow trailer attached to the back. Some of these vehicles were brown; others were green. They had no wheels, and there were multiple boosters positioned on the bottom, sides, and back. These boosters shot jets of air that would kick up dust once they were outside of the city. Positioned as they were, all I saw was trash flying around, and the branches of the small shrubs—some alien species of boxwoods I think—waving in the breeze created by the crafts’ thrust.

Droguldai, Baavi, Humans, and even a few Delvians walked the streets and worked the various stands of food that lined our route. I wouldn’t say the city was packed, but there was certainly enough life here to sustain a civilization.

When we were close to the middle of the city, the sidewalk—or now lane, I suppose—widened further into a sort of city square with a fountain in the middle. A Droguldai maiden in a garment that looked like a toga was spitting water from the various stones on her carved forehead, arms, and back. As on earth, people tossed coins into the pool, and children splashed along the ring of water surrounding the statue. Heath stopped at the foot of this fountain, regarded the statue of the Droguldai woman—I didn’t think the statue looked like Madulluel, but Heath glared at it anyway—then turned and looked at Jeena and Silby.

“Okay. It’s time,” he began. “Jeena, I know you’re not planning to stick around.” He tilted his head toward one of the alleyways behind us. “There are a number of warehouses here who need help. They have secretary jobs, accountants, whatever you want. You just need to ask around. You’ll probably find a job before the end of the day, and they might even give you an advance so you can find a hotel. If that doesn’t work, you can always return to Mary’s. The only advice I have is don’t leave the planet. The Nordics will be looking for you.”

Without a word, Jeena turned and walked off.

“She’s gonna stab us in the back,” Helen said once Jeena was out of earshot. “She’ll hop on some other smuggler’s ship and search out the Nordics herself.”

“She doesn’t know anything that could hurt us,” Heath said.

“What about Mary?” Helen asked.

“Her goal is to kill me, not her,” Heath said.

“It’s not worth the risk,” Jill said.

Heath glared at Jill. Jill bit her lip and nodded. Heath looked back at Silby. “What about you? You’re welcome to stay with us, but we’re going to war. I’d feel better if you were here. Mary and Tom can keep you company if you get lonely, and I’m sure it won’t take you long to make friends.”

“I don’t feel right about leaving if you’re going to war,” Silby said. “What if you need help?”

Cynthia said, “We’ve learned to fight, Silby. You haven’t. We wouldn’t feel right about taking you along.”

Silby was silent for a long time, then she asked Heath, “You and Tom are still working together?”

“We are,” Heath said. “He’s our main supplier.”

“Do you think he’d let me work with him? I’d like to help you all somehow.”

“You can ask him,” Heath said. “They’re always needing help here, so I’d say your odds are good.”

“Even if he can’t, stay in touch with them,” Cynthia said. “They’ll let you know if we come back. Maybe when the war is over you can join us.”

Silby smiled and nodded. “So, should I go ask him, or should I apply at the warehouse?”

“I’d talk to him,” Heath said. “We can give you some money so you can find a place to stay for a few nights, and you can go back to Mary’s in the morning.”

Silby nodded, then Heath gave her a few coins, and once Silby had hugged everyone and said her goodbyes, she started down one of the many streets leading out of the square.

When she was out of sight, Jill said, “Glad you’re showing some sense. I was going to slap you if you took her to the warehouse.”

“I’m not worried about Silby,” Heath said.

“Jeena has some power over her,” Helen said. “Which brings me back to my point. Jeena is a problem.”

“What are you suggesting?” Heath asked.

“You know what I’m suggesting,” Helen said. “Let me follow her to some alleyway and deal with it.”

“We can’t do that!” Cynthia shouted.

“She thought Mary was going to take her side,” Helen argued. “But now everybody’s getting along, so they’re complicit.”

“Helen’s right,” Jill said. “I was watching her on the way here. She’ll go after Mary to get to you, Heath. She’ll tell the Nordics about this place.”

“Even if they make her a slave again?” Cynthia asked.

“I don’t think it bothered her that much,” Helen said. “For whatever reason, she’s decided that everything is Heath’s fault. In her head, he’s more a villain than they are.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Cynthia said. “We can’t kill her.”

“She’ll wipe out this whole planet,” Jill said.

“How?” Heath asked. “You really think the Nordics don’t already know about it? Just because they haven’t attacked doesn’t mean this place is a secret. There have been so many Nordics, Reptilians, and Greys through here that secrecy would be impossible. In their minds, this place is just another black market that they’re willing to tolerate. If they can break past the outer planets, that might change, but Jeena can’t make things better or worse.”

“She knows about Mark,” Helen said.

“So?” Heath asked. “We don’t even know who Mark is. All we’ve got is his name.”

“The Nordics might think Mary is valuable enough to attack the planet,” Jill said.

Heath raised an eyebrow. “We’re not that important.”

“Yes. You are,” Jill said.

“And if you’re not now, you will be,” Helen added.

Heath glared at the two women for a minute, then shook his head. “We’re not killing anybody. She’s mad now, but just give her a few days to cool off and live a normal life. I’m sure she’ll calm down.”

“Nobody wants to be a sex slave,” Cynthia said. “Jeena isn’t that far gone.”

Jill shook her head but said, “Fine.”

“This is stupid,” Helen muttered. “But you’re the boss, Heath.”

Thankfully, nobody asked for my opinion, and we left the square, presumably heading for Tom’s warehouse. Heath led us to a lot with a set of industrial doors on the far end. About halfway down the lot, the doors opened and out stepped a tall, broad-shouldered, and shaggy blond-haired boy, wearing a sort of armor I’d never seen before. It looked medieval in a way, but it was strange. He wore a green breastplate with golden embroidery outlining the sides and pecks. This embroidery also made a single line from the base of the sternum to the bottom of the plate, and it outlined the top of the shoulder guards, which curved upward at an angle, starting at the neckline and climbing upward until they reached their zenith just past the deltoids. Another guard lined the man’s neck like an open shirt collar. It rose nearly to the young man’s cheeks. As for the man’s arms and legs, they were covered in the same green and gold armor, but there were no discernible plates. His limbs looked to be incased in a carved sheath. But as he walked, both his arms and legs looked to be unhindered. I have no guess as to how this was done. The only seams I could see were where the breastplate met the arms. I couldn’t see if there were any seams where the legs met the pelvis because the breast plate tapered off just below the groin. After straining for a moment, I did see that he was wearing greaves and boots, but they were of the same design as the armor, and it was impossible to distinguish them from the armor at a distance. At his side was the silver handle of a bastard sword with a brown sheath, and behind him billowed a golden cape.

He met us halfway down the lot and heartily shook Heath’s hand.

Heath raised a cynical eyebrow and said, “Is that supposed to stop bullets?”

“It’s Delvian, and it’s meant to stop Nordic lasers. Might stop a small caliber, though. It’s my great honor to meet you, Heath. I would use your last name, but I don’t know it. However, Madulluel speaks highly of you.”

“So, you’re Mark,” Heath said.

“I am.”

“No last name?”

“Harrison, but Madulluel wouldn’t know it either.”

“So, you’re the one who’s supposed to turn us into soldiers,” Heath said, letting go of Mark’s hand.

“Actually, I need a pilot, but I’m sure we can find a way to tell Madulluel’s tale without lying.”

“How’s that?”

“I don’t know. But there will be plenty of time to think on it once we reach the camps.” He turned to me and smiled. “Do you mind if I call you Nicholas?”

“Not at all,” I said.

He approached me and shook my hand as well. “I usually address people by rank, but you and I shall be working closely together, and referring to you as Hieromonk might become tedious. How much has Madulluel told you?”

“Not enough,” I admitted. “I was told I would be leading a missions effort on one of the outer planets. Then I was told that my mission would be used as a way to bait the Nordics into a confrontation.”

“That’s one aspect of the plan,” Mark said. “But you’ll still have time to commit to your true work. I’ll explain the details on the ship. We have a long detour ahead of us.”

“Detour?” Jill asked.

Mark nodded. He then looked at the three women and smiled. “I suspect you’re the real reason Heath has such a reputation.” Mark gave them a charming grin.

“No,” Jill said, bluntly. “That’s kind of you, but no. I’d like to know about this detour.”

“Stop it,” Cynthia said. “He’s just trying to be nice.” She took Mark’s hand and shook it just as heartily as he’d done to Heath. “I’m happy to meet you.”

Mark looked at Jill and Helen again, then back at Jill. “Am I in for it?”

Jill giggled. “For sure.”

“Can you three tell me your names?” Mark said. The three women gave their names, then Mark nodded and stepped back. He looked at the group, and his face turned serious. “One thing Madulluel has made clear to me is that you’ve suffered. I was spared your fate, so I’m afraid I don’t have much to say in the way of comfort. But we’re going to make them pay for it. Not for vengeance, but because others are suffering too, even now, as we speak. This is a just fight, a fight I think you’ll find worthwhile.”

“It doesn’t matter what we think,” Helen said. “We’re here for a job, and even if we pull this off, Heath just becomes a sex slave again.”

“Heath is in a difficult position, one I haven’t found a solution to yet, and to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I can. But I will try my best. As for the cause, I think once you’ve seen what I plan to show you, you’ll want justice, not just for yourselves but for others.” He tilted his head toward the doors. “Follow me.”

He turned and started for the warehouse. We followed. I tried to catch up to the man because I had so many questions about my mission, but his stride was quick, and Heath beat me to him anyway.

“So, you plan to double-cross Mad. Just for me, huh? I’m sure she’ll like that.”

“You’re a cynical mam,” Mark said without looking at Heath. “I understand. But I never said double-cross. If there’s a middle path, I will find it, and if not, then perhaps the Almighty has a greater purpose for you in captivity.” He paused. “Actually, I’m not sure captivity is the right word. You had a daughter with Madulluel. Yes?”

“Yeah,” Heath muttered.

“Did you make peace with Mary?”

“I did.”

“Did you have any other children?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then it seems the child is the last loose thread. Perhaps raising her isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you.”

Heath grabbed Mark’s shoulder and spun the man to face him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up,” Mark said, smiling. “Compulsion isn’t the best foundation for a relationship, as I’m sure you’re aware. For that reason, I’ll help you if I can. But a child still needs a father.”

Mark yanked his shoulder free of Heath’s grip and continued walking.

Heath watched the young man for a moment, then ran back up to him. “How is she going to have a father when I’m dead?”

“I don’t know, but if I have my way, I’ll die before you,” Mark said.

Heath stopped walking again, and this time, he did not bother to catch up with Mark. He fell in line with the girls, who’d also overheard the conversation. Nobody spoke until we entered the warehouse.

Once inside, I saw three land crafts, their trailers filled with metal crates. There were two rows of five in the trailers, each row stacked three high. Mark hopped onto one of the landing craft, but Heath stared at the trailers for a moment, then said, “I’m not moving anything until I know what’s inside.”

“Suit yourself,” Mark said amiably. He then picked up a helmet that was sitting behind him on the seat. It looked like a green and gold samurai kabuto, with a single curved spike that grew from the nose guard and stopped a few inches above the helmet’s crown.

Mark put the helmet on, and everyone waited for him to answer Heath’s question, but he said nothing. Mark continued to sit on the land craft, grinning at everyone until Helen spotted a crowbar on the wall behind the soldier. Helen crossed the room without a word, grabbed the crowbar, hopped onto one of the trailers, and pried a lid open. She looked down and frowned. Then she lifted a wad of white fabric, showing it to us.

“Clothes,” Helen said confused.

Heath glared at Mark. “Where are we going?”

Mark’s grin grew. “We’re going to clothe the naked.”

Helen tilted the fabric as she inspected it, and a gun barrel fell to the ground.

May God grant you peace.

Hieromonk Nicholas Petrov

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Act 2 of 2001: A Space Odyssey is probably the shortest of the three acts, and it’s the most confusing. I think this entire act could’ve been cut to one, maybe two, scenes. All that’s really needed is the discovery of the Monolith on the moon and the moment when it releases its signal.

But I understand why the writers added more because this sequence is directly inspired by Arthur C. Clarke’s short story, “The Sentinel,” where a similar artifact is discovered on the moon. In both the film and short story, the artifact is a beacon meant to contact alien life when it’s discovered. In both the film and the story, the reason why the aliens want this signal is unknown.

We meet Dr. Floyd

The act opens with Dr. Heywood R. Floyd traveling to a space station where he will eventually board a ship meant to take him to the moon. It should be noted that Dr. Floyd is a recurring character in the Odyssey series. While aboard the space station, he calls his daughter. Then, while Floyd is sitting with a group of people, a Russian scientist asks him about a possible plague that has infected the moon base he’s traveling to. Floyd is deliberately cagey in his responses, and the audience soon learns why. When he travels to the base, Floyd mentions that the plague is in fact a cover story for what the base has really found on the moon: another Monolith. This Monolith has been deliberately buried, and no one knows why.

Floyd travels to the crater where the Monolith was uncovered. When he enters the crater, once again, the eerie music plays. Floyd touches the Monolith, and then he and the other scientists gather around it for a group photo. Then they hear a painfully loud noise through their radios. The scene ends with the group writhing in pain while the sun and a crescent Earth hang over the Monolith.

Clues about the Monolith

In the book, the Monolith is a beacon that is activated by the sun. The moment it’s uncovered and the rays of the sun touch it, it releases its signal. This signal is later detected by multiple space probes as it moves away from the moon. The scientists realize the signal is heading toward Saturn, not Jupiter, as is shown in the film. Apparently, the reason for this change was that Kubrick was unsatisfied with the special effects department’s depiction of Saturn. He went with Jupiter because it was easier to create.

I understand wanting to include this act because of the tie-in with “The Sentinel,” but the only real connection it has to the overall theme of the movie is the space travel that takes place in the act’s opening sequence. Granted, watching the women walking around the ships is fascinating, making one wonder about the various complexities of traveling in zero gravity, and the visual effects in this movie easily hold up to today’s standards. But there are three major issues with Act 2.

Heywood vs. Bowman

The first is that I confused Heywood as the protagonist during my initial viewing of the film and this made it harder to become invested in Dave Bowman later on because, for all I knew, the movie could shift POVs at any moment. The second issue is redundancy. While the spacewalking is impressive, similar effects are done during the introduction of the Discovery One.

Watching the stewardesses walk around is great, but by the time we see the crew of the Discovery doing the same thing, the effect feels repetitive. And as much as I love the space ballet at the beginning of the second act, a similar dancing spacecraft sequence could’ve been done with the Discovery and its shuttles. This would’ve saved valuable time. Instead of showing Heywood’s spaceship docking on the station, the writers could’ve shown Bowman and his partner performing maintenance on the Discovery, and while this wouldn’t have been as neat to watch, narratively, it would’ve accomplished the same goal, establishing the wonder of technology.

And the third issue… the big one: HAL

The first issue I consider substantial because it affects the stakes, the investment in the main character. The second issue is really more of a nitpick than anything. However, the third issue is what I consider to be the greatest problem: it splits up the film’s premise, making it harder to connect the idea presented in the Dawn of Man sequence to the technological pinnacle of the flying bone, which is introduced in the third act: HAL.

The idea of technology and weaponry being identical is best personified in the character of Hal. The same shot of the bone turning into a spaceship could’ve been done with the Discovery itself, and that would’ve freed up more time to show Hal actually helping the crew before he turns on them.

The film attempts to present the positive aspects of technology through the space travel sequence in the second act. But sandwiching Heywood Floyd’s brief story between the sequence after the Dawn of Man prelude and the introduction of the Discovery breaks up the transition between technology as a benefit and technology as a weapon. That makes it more difficult for the audience to connect the positive and negative aspects of the Monolith’s revelation.

In my opinion, the two concepts needed to be juxtaposed in order to really sell the idea: The dichotomous nature of technology needs to be shown side by side. This could’ve been easily done directly with Hal, which would’ve required giving the AI more screen time. The audience needs to see more of Hal’s benefits in order to drive home the horror behind his actions and the core idea of the film.

HAL’s “conscience”

There was a lot to work with on this point. The book goes to some length explaining Hal’s issues, saying that the conflict between his programming and the directive to keep the true nature of his mission a secret had created something akin to a conscience inside of him. This manifests in him attacking the crew in order to hide his lie about the broken AE-35 unit.

I don’t support the underlying concept, but one of the core ideas behind the Odyssey series is that machines have the capacity to become like men, and Hal’s proto-conscience is an example of that. Whether or not we agree, the movie would’ve benefited from an exploration into Hal’s positive role on the ship as well as his motives and mechanical mental state overall. However, Hal’s story is sacrificed in favor of Heywood’s brief tale. There’s nothing wrong with Heywood’s act in and of itself, but it does feel forced into the film.

Again though, I understand why. “The Sentinel” is the inspiration for the movie — no short story, no film — but personally, I don’t feel the entire act is needed. One or two scenes showing the Monolith releasing its signal on the moon would’ve accomplished what was needed. The dichotomy of technology could’ve been presented in the third act, rather than dividing it between two acts in the film. We’ll look at Bowman’s story next time.

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There is one last class of shapeshifters that is so broad they are really less of a class and more practitioners of a particular art. This would be the lookalike class of shapeshifters or shapeshifters that imitate other humans. This is one of the great fears everyone has in our world. No one wants to guess incorrectly when two men are pointing at each other, claiming the man in front of them is a fake. Fortunately, this is less likely than you probably realize. I won’t lie and say the danger is minimal because it isn’t, but, generally speaking, the creatures are much easier to spot than one might imagine. A person is more than their body, and mimicking another person’s behavior is far more difficult than most realize. In fact, I’d argue almost too difficult for the typical enchanter, who’s usually devoted to fast and easy power. You’re in more danger of a government operative disguising himself or herself as one of your companions because such an operative will at least take the time to study their target’s movements and mannerisms to make up for the lack of accuracy when it comes to their physical appearance. But I suppose there are shapeshifters who devote themselves to their craft, so I’ll address the tells and what to do should you need a subtle eye.

First of all, the key is not to lose track of your agents during an investigation. If you lose track of someone, there might be cause to raise an eyebrow, so you should never be alone—do as I say, not as I do here. This standard rule will prevent such creatures from infiltrating your group. This is also why we keep our groups small and privacy to a minimum—three if the group will always be together and larger groups of an even number when there need to be multiple fronts during an investigation.

If this precaution fails, the next obvious thing to do is to inquire about the said subject’s relations or friends or to casually bring up some random detail only you or a handful of people would know about. I say “casually” because if you are too direct, then the shapeshifter might detect the ruse and sift through their host’s memories and thereby be able to divine the answer. Whatever details you drop usually need to be wrong and assumed. So, for instance, you might say something like, “I was told your uncle Bob will be here Friday.” The Bob in question can be a cousin, or the uncle could be named Ed. If the person is genuinely themselves, then they should correct you mildly. If they are not, then they should agree to the statement without much thought. But be sure to run this test multiple times if possible. One test is seldom enough to confirm anything. I’d run it at least three times, again, if possible. If you’re pressed for time, I’d try to use the test once and combine it with other data.

The other data in question should be changes in facial expressions, body language, gait, eating and sleeping habits, and so on. Any consistent disruption in these habits should be noted. The advantage to dealing with these types of creatures is that their main purpose is mostly spying or infiltration, so you’ll seldom be dealing with an immediate threat like an assassination. In such circumstances, keeping an eye on your partners and other standard habits will prevent the assassin from getting too close. But in the event that they do manage to slip by, look for things like the shifter eyeballing a specific person for no obvious reason, a reluctance to talk despite the situation requiring frequent communication, and any other oddities in behavior. But again, please remember that no one thing in isolation should be taken as proof.

If you are entering a situation where such shifters might be possible, my personal recommendation would be to demand that your group select a trinket. Your group will show each member their trinket before the mission starts and never bring it up, unless someone is suspicious of an intruder. If a shifter is suspected, then pulling this object out of your pocket quietly and showing it to one person at a time will signal the others to do the same and reveal the shapeshifter when they do not recognize the maneuver.

But be sure not to act in an obvious manner when you do this, and do not react when the suspect does not respond as they ought. For example, I like to unscrew the knife in my cane and pull it partly in and out of the cane’s shaft as I talk to each person. This signals my agents to pull out their trinkets, and I can move about at my leisure.

Once you’ve located the shifter, corner them, run a final test through casual conversation, then confront them. As to killing the beasts, I’m sad to say there are so many variations of this particular shifter that it would be difficult to give you a clean way to do it. In most human shapeshifter cases, the shifting is secondary to something else. Some vampires can mimic a human if they’ve been interacting with magic. Faries will be able to do it, and, of course, there are more human variants whose sole talent is shifting. There are also potions that can accomplish the same thing. Dispatching the creature will depend on the type of beast you’re facing.

I plan to delve into the subject of runes in more detail later, but for now, I will say that in some cases—not all, but some—one can stick a rune on the shifter’s person, and this will ground out the magic, revealing the culprit’s true identity. This has worked for me in the past. There was a vampire who liked to rob banks by impersonating the security and breaking into the vaults later in the night using his advanced speed. It took us some time to figure the whole thing out. The security cameras only showed that the vault door would be thrown open by some unseen force, then several items would disappear during the period no one noticed the issue. Well, we knew it was an inside job because the alarms weren’t being set off when the door opened, and we thought it odd that the security guard had a habit of leaving his door open throughout the night. I eventually looked through the security footage frame by frame, and, by Providence, I found a single shot of the security guard rushing down the hall, carrying several bundles of cash. The next night, we posed as private investigators hired by the bank, which we in fact were. And I asked the guard to show us the vault and to open it so we could look for clues. As he stood up, I stuck a rune on his back, and this melted the vampire’s illusion. We let on like we hadn’t noticed anything, and when the vampire stepped into the vault, we closed the door behind him.

A stronger vampire would’ve been able to break through the door, but this man was a newborn. He’d also killed the man he was impersonating, so we didn’t feel too bad about throwing the vault door open a few hours later and letting the sun have him.

I reiterate that runes will not always work. The reason I don’t really consider this group a part of the shapeshifting class is because the means to accomplish this particular shifting are so varied. Not every case can even be classified as magic or supernatural. Some are the result of experimentation or ancient genetics that are misattributed to mutation. These humans are purely physical and can be handled the same as any man, but, at least, the defensive tactics I’ve described here will be applicable in all cases.

The last thing I’ll mention about this situation is again to stress that these beings are easier to spot than media would lead one to believe. The reason is that an imitator will appear very uncanny once one spends any amount of time talking to them, unless they are very, very well-trained. The reason for this is simple. People’s mannerisms are connected to the types of bodies they have. A man might smile more than usual because he likes his teeth. A woman might tilt her head down to hide the length of her nose. Plus, the muscles usually rest differently on the face. People carry different levels of stress and tensions in their facial structure, and while most don’t notice such subtleties while spending every day with someone, a quick change in the facial structure is always very jarring. To put it simply, even when every physical quality is identical, the person looks different. Perhaps it’s because we have souls, and those souls alter the way we use our bodies.

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Earlier in the production of the film 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), the idea of putting a screen on the Monolith was floated and quickly rejected. In the book 2001: A Space Odyssey which was written alongside the film, the ape-men are literally possessed by the Monolith and compelled to perform various tasks. But director Kubrick chose to keep things subtle and open-ended instead. This was a good choice because to do otherwise would’ve required additional exposition.

So, why the Monolith?

It’s hard to know what to make of the explanation that the book offers. To me, the movie was so ambiguous, yet broad in scale, that the explanation presented was in line with my expectations. But how believable is it?

Basically, aliens are conducting an experiment. They are essentially reprogramming the ape-men in the hopes of making them more advanced in the future. This scenario certainly lines up with everything presented in the film, but I felt that the book, which articulated the idea, failed to sell it.

And what about the original author, Arthur C. Clarke?

I have found Arthur C. Clarke (1917‒2008) — differences in beliefs aside — to be a fascinating writer. Before preparing for this review, I’d never read any of his work. But in terms of pacing, he kept my attention. I remained interested in both “The Sentinel” — the short story on which 2001: A Space Odyssey is based— and the film adaptation and the novel. In fact, I’d say his pacing is far better than H.G. Wells’s. I’d argue Clarke surpassed the author who inspired him in this respect.

However, Clarke failed to offer a convincing reason behind the aliens’ experiment. Why did they want to make other species more advanced? To the extent that the accompanying book explains their reasoning, the explanation is cursory. The motivations for the various characters in the story are not well explored, and, by the end of the novel, this lack of clarity is very noticeable, particularly with the famous space baby sequence — but more on that later.

Why the film opts for mystery

I think the aliens’ unclear motives put Kubrick in a tough spot. Showing the aliens would’ve demanded answers to questions that are not resolved in the book. So, Kubrick was, in some measure, forced to lean on mystery in the film.

For example, to show the Monolith’s extraterrestrial origins would’ve required giving the aliens a backstory, chewing up a lot of valuable screen time for a group of characters that never even appear. In the book, these creatures literally become elements — fire, water, energy, and such, except that they have consciousnesses — by the time Bowman appears. For Kubrick, there would’ve been no point in explaining all of this onscreen.

How well did it work?

So, the main question for Kubrick was how to communicate that the Monolith was giving the ape-men information. Sadly, I don’t think Kubrick did a great job conveying what was happening. All the audience really sees after the ape-men encounter the Monolith is this: the main ape-man, called Moonwatcher in the novel, remembers seeing the Monolith, then begin swinging a bone around, realizing he can use it as a weapon.

When it comes to what information the Monolith was conveying, the novel’s explanation is straightforward, but I’m not sure what Kubrick had in mind. Did the Monolith directly tell Moonwatcher to use the bone as a weapon? Did the mere sight of a manufactured object suggest to the ape-men that matter could be manipulated. Did this revelation inspire Moonwatcher to use the bone as a weapon?

The movie never says, and Kubrick’s choice to lean on the mysterious when it comes to this subject bothers me because the explanation would’ve revealed to the audience more about the stakes of the story. If the Monolith told Moonwatcher to use the bone as a weapon, then that suggests something about the nature of the Monolith. It becomes a malevolent force that corrupts mankind, a serpent of sorts. If the Monolith was meant to demonstrate the idea of manipulated matter and Moonwatcher was the one who decided to use the bone as a weapon, then evil is in the heart of man from the beginning. The exact role of the Monolith in humanity’s origins determines whether or not the Monolith is supposed to be seen as a symbol for salvation or damnation.

Again, I understand the appeal of leaning on mystery, but, in my opinion, to be mysterious on this point muddies the stakes. A single shot of the Monolith aligned with the sun and moon was not enough.

Might a difference in worldviews underlie the problem?

I suspect that more was going on here than Stanley Kubrick (1928‒1999) simply defaulting to the mysterious to avoid answering questions. Given the different endings in the novel and the film and Clarke’s explanation of the Monolith’s actions and origins in the novel, I think Kubrick and Clarke had a fundamental difference in worldviews. I’ll explore this in more detail while reviewing the ending of the film. But for now I think this difference in worldviews presented Kubrick with yet another problem.

Kubrick couldn’t directly conflict with Clarke because they were working together on the story. But at the same time, I think Kubrick saw the Monolith as a malevolent force, whereas Clarke saw it as a means to transcendence. I don’t think the ambiguity in 2001 is the result of artistic muddiness. I think it was the middle ground for an unspoken conflict between the two writers.

Kubrick answered as few questions as possible regarding the Monolith, knowing that Clarke, in some measure, approved of the Monolith’s actions in the book, accepting the use of technology and weaponry as a necessary evil on the way to transcending survival of the fittest.

His anxiety over the Cold War had dampened his optimism. He felt that mankind’s technology had put it on the path to almost certain annihilation. In his mind, this whole mess was the Monolith’s fault. I think this also accounts for the way the film’s ending was shot. It too is wildly different from the book. I suspect that Kubrick wanted Bowman to, somehow, defeat the Monolith, and that victory was what led to his transcendence. But in the book, Clarke portrayed the Monolith as a benevolent guide.

Letting the audience decide

By having a single shot of the Monolith cut between Moonwatcher’s discovery of the bone, Kubrick was letting the audience decide the Monolith’s role, which was probably his safest option. The rest of the Dawn of Man sequence is simple enough. Moonwatcher kills the head of a rival tribe, securing the watering hole. Then a bone is thrown into the air, and there is a jump cut to a spaceship, connecting the bone to technology.

Another piece of evidence

I haven’t confirmed that this conflict between Kubrick and Clarke existed, but my theory is the best explanation for the differences between the film and the book. And there is one other piece of evidence that doesn’t prove anything, but is in my view suggestive, so I’ll mention it here.

During the introduction of the novel, Clarke reads from his journal. He states with some amusement that he recommended H.G. Wells’s 1936 film “Things to Come” to Kubrick. Kubrick hated the film…

We’ll look at the second act of 2001: A Space Odyssey next time.

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I couldn’t bring myself to remember the planet’s name. Perhaps it had no name. It was a terraformed thing, and, therefore, contained no native species. Droguldai, Baavi, a blond race similar to the Nordics, a handful of humans, and others lived and worked and traded with whoever landed, including the Reptilians, Nordics, and Greys. Delvians, a race of people with paper-white skin and charcoal black hair, also frequented the planet, but, to my knowledge, none of them lived on it.

We landed in a nearly vacant space port. As we left the Eagle Seven and I studied the metal platform serving as a tarmac, I saw three ships, a gray, egg-shaped structure for the traffic control, and a handful of uniformed Droguldai, but nothing more. The port seemed all but abandoned, and I realized that the reason this desolate planet was so willing to trade with anyone was because nearly no one came here. I suspect this was because we were nearing the outer planets, where my mission trip and Madulluel’s war plans were to begin. The Nordics patrolled the region beyond the outer planets, but there were plenty of battleships frequently trying to punch a hole in the Terras Confederation’s defenses. Therefore, only the boldest of merchants traveled here, and the pay was said to be high, indicating that the planet was also wealthy.

But this did not seem to be the case as we traversed the tarmac on foot. The air was breathable, but the sky above us was filled with thick haze and had a dirty white and orangish hue as if there were a nearby fire. I supposed this was why the Droguldai resided on this planet. The light wouldn’t have been ideal for them, but it was possible for their stones to convert enough of it to oxygen so they could survive. The temperature was mild, and the ground beyond the steel tarmac was an orange clay. This clay was either collecting in the atmosphere, creating the light, or, somehow, the light was reflecting off the planet’s surface. I couldn’t be sure. I am no expert in such things.

It took an hour for the seven of us to leave the tarmac and reach a nearby mountain pass. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that these mountains were more like a cliff’s edge. I would’ve thought we’d landed on a crater, but this wall was only on one side. Behind us, there was an endless plane.

We walked through the pass, and I was struck by the jagged peaks that looked more like long walls. It was as if a child had stuck his hands in the mud, and the wet ground between his fingers had dried and chipped until the crests of the peaks had formed knife-like edges. These mountains would be impossible to climb. The incline was almost imperceptible.

Everything remained orange until we rounded a corner and saw yet another wall. But this wall was vegetation and stretched before us and to our left and right as far as we could see. When we reached this alien hedge, we saw multiple cement sidewalks, each winding down a wide path. It looked like some worm had borrowed a tunnel into the foliage. Heath chose a path, and we were soon swallowed by a forest. We followed the trail for some time, and then it became apparent why anyone came to this planet at all. The path opened into a beautiful small town, and the place was indeed wealthy.

Like the dome on the tarmac, the buildings were all a uniform egg-shape, the only difference being that they were much wider at the base than at the top. Like an A-frame, the buildings were constructed with a diamond-shaped grid, and what looked to be silver plates were behind each cell. These plates were decorated with jewels that speckled the structure like glistening spots. There were windows positioned randomly on each structure, and every building had an arched door and awning centered in the front. Every property was surrounded by a golden chain-link fence, and the lawns were immaculate, filled with flower beds and even clipped grass. But there were no roads, only the large sidewalk we were following. It wound through the middle of the town, branching off into narrower sidewalks that ran up to each building’s door.

It wouldn’t be quite fair to say that this portion of the town was similar to a suburb because the buildings were spaced so far apart and formed no discernable rows. The properties around the buildings were about half an acre a piece, and fields of wheat and scattered trees filled the gaps between one property and the next.

I looked and on the far side of the town was another row of the cliff-like mountains, which filled the horizon. Turning to my left and right, I saw that the other paths we’d seen at the alien hedge came to other sections of the town. In the distance, I could see them sprouting from the forest like tiny tongues and running into identical collections of buildings. Beyond them, I could just barely make out more of the mountains, and I realized we were inside some kind of constructed and conditioned crater, suggesting that the planet had not been fully terraformed but was probably close.

Jill took my hand and whispered, “The smog above us keeps the Nordics from fully surveying the planet, but they can still scan for vehicles, which is why there are no roads.” She pointed to the distant mountains in front of us. “Beyond that range is a kind of city filled with all sorts of freight, but whoever lands here usually brings their own smaller landcraft and run it up and down the walkway.”

“But why go to so much trouble if the Nordics trade here anyway?” I asked.

Jill giggled. “Because they’re not supposed to. The Droguldai have promised them a lot of money to keep quiet, and it works. This is also where we get the majority of our spies. They’re merchants.” She then moved her finger along the tops of the distant mountains. The Droguldai have also created a shield above the town, just in case the Nordics catch on.”

“How do you know this? I thought your crew wasn’t involved in the war?”

Jill shrugged. “We’re smugglers. A lot of our freight comes from here. We usually rent the landcraft in the city and have somebody drive them back. Then we do the same wherever we deliver the freight. Saves on space.”

“I doubt the Monk cares,” Heath said.

“He might,” Jill said. “I’d want to know why we’re walking.”

“Is Mary safe here?” I asked.

“As safe as she can reasonably be,” Heath said. “Unless she wanted to return to Earth, which I doubt she’d do.” He pointed to the mountains in front of us. “There are more guns there than anywhere else I’ve seen. It’s where we get our weapons.” He tilted his head toward the town. “Come on.”

We continued to follow the sidewalk. As we walked, Jeena asked, “So, why are we going to see her? Are you asking for forgiveness before you die?”

Everyone turned to her. I hadn’t heard her say a word since our conversation.

“Shut up, Jeena,” Helen snapped.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” Heath admitted. “Madulluel wants me to talk to her.”

“Mary wants you to see your kids,” Cynthia said.

Everyone stopped. Heath turned and glowered at her. “That’s not happening. Not if I can help it. Why tell them about their dad, just so they can learn he died a few months later?”

“You don’t know that’s going to happen,” Cynthia argued.

“If you don’t meet them, they’re going to blame their mother later,” Jill pointed out. “I know you don’t want that.”

Heath sighed. “They probably won’t remember me.”

“They might,” Cynthia said. “One of them was four. You never know.”

“Geez, were we with Mad for that long?” Helen asked. “I forget. That’s almost as long as the zoo.”

“It’s about the same,” Silby said. Everyone looked at her. They didn’t seem angry, just surprised she’d spoken. Silby blushed and looked at the ground.

“Let’s go,” Heath said, and we continued walking.

As we entered the town, I had no idea how we were supposed to find Mary. There were no names or addresses on the homes. I couldn’t imagine trying to find their house in the dark. Droguldai crouched over their gardens, some of them looking over their shoulders and returning to their work as we passed. Apparently, they were used to strangers. I did notice that no one was walking on the sidewalk, and after a few minutes, I saw a cloud of orange dust rising near the mountains. Some of the landcraft Jill spoke of were heading our direction.

“Should we get off the path?” I asked.

“They’ll see us,” Heath said mildly.

Just then a woman, the first human I’d seen so far, stepped out of her home and saw us. I was close enough to see her smile briefly, then she hid the grin and straightened. When everyone noticed her, she smiled again, but this time it was more courteous than joyful, and raised her hand, motioning us to wait. We stopped, and she returned to her house. A moment later, a large, muscular man with dark black hair and a thick handlebar mustache stepped out under the awning. He was dressed like a logger, and I was astonished at the size of him.

He looked at Heath and began moving towards us. Heath took a few steps forward as well, and the two stood practically nose to nose although, the man was easily a foot and a half taller than Heath.

After a long pause, the man said, “Well, this sucks.”

Heath sighed. “Yeah.”

“So, you’ve finally come to see her.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

The man frowned. “You know me better than that. If I thought you could get her, I’d have killed you already.”

Heath snorted. “You would’ve tried.”

The man snorted as well. “So, what do we do now? Bang our chests and grunt, make it look convincing?”

“I think this is good enough,” Heath said. “How is she?”

“She’s talking about you. More than I like.” He shook his head. “Look, I know we’ve had it out. It was a good fight and everything, but this . . . I don’t know. I think we should go over it again. With you going along with that alien queen’s scheme and everything. I just . . .”

“We’re good,” Heath said firmly. “She was already gone, and I’d rather her be here than running around like those two.” He tilted his head back toward Jeena and Silby.

The man looked at the two women and blinked. “You found them?”

“Madulluel did,” Heath said. “How’s the kids?”

The man smiled, and his face brightened. “Ours and yours are good, growing like weeds.”

“I don’t want them seeing me, Tom,” Heath said. “You hear me. Her scheme is probably going to get me killed. You’re their dad now, and it needs to stay that way.”

Tom frowned. “I don’t know if I can help with that.”

“Please stop,” Mary shouted behind them. She ran up to the two men. “One broken nose is enough.”

Tom smiled. “I didn’t think he could reach.”

Heath grinned as well. “Couldn’t open my eye for a week.”

Mary looked back and forth, and her eyes widened. “I knew you two were working together again, but I didn’t think . . .” She trailed off and then shook her head. “Well, that’s one problem handled. Come on. I have drinks for everyone.” She then noticed the rest of us—who had unconsciously formed a semicircle around the two men, waiting for something to happen—and added. “I think.” She waved us inside.

I won’t say the inside of their home was as nice as the outside. The walls and floor were wooden. In fact, everything, save the kitchen equipment, was wooden. Everyone except Jill and Helen, who stood on either side of the door, sat down on wooden kitchen chairs. I offered my seat to them, but they refused it, saying I was too old and needed to sit down. I relented and sat beside Cynthia, who had pulled her seat next to the wall. She’d also done the same for Jeena’s and Silby’s chairs. It seemed that we had all decided to give Heath, Tom, and Mary the kitchen table without saying a word.

The three of them sat down. Tom and Mary sat beside each other, and I saw Tom raise his hand to take Mary’s, but then he thought better of it, placing both his hands in his lap. He looked down as if he were studying the grains of the table. It seemed as if he wanted to tune out their conversation entirely while still remaining by his wife’s side.

A silence fell on the room, then Mary cried, “Drinks!” She sprang up and went to her version of a refrigerator, which lay horizontal on the floor more like a freezer. She bent over the fridge, reached inside, and collected several glass bottles. When she turned and began handing the bottles to each of us, Heath said, “So, how do you want to do this? Start with the hard stuff first or just start small and work our way into it?”

The joviality he’d shown to Tom was gone. His words were clipped and harsh. Mary ignored this, saying, “I think we should have this talk in private. Maybe the living room, so Tom can at least see us.”

“I trust you both,” Tom said. “If you need to go outside, that would be fine.”

Heath shook his head. “No. I don’t want him pining over you while you’re gone. Besides, I’ve got a problem child here.” He turned and eyed Jeena. “I don’t want to leave her alone.”

Mary stopped, her arm half extended to Cynthia. “This isn’t the cave,” she muttered, her words clipped as well. “We don’t have to discuss things as a group anymore. We can have a little privacy.”

“We could when we were married,” Heath shot back.

“We stopped being married when—“ She stopped and shook her head. “We can’t do this. There’s too much on the line. Heath, I don’t want to hurt him, and as much as I love the other girls, not being able to talk to you was always the problem.”

“We can leave,” Cynthia said.

“Yeah. I don’t want to hear this anyway,” Helen added.

“No.” Heath said. “I don’t want you to hear it either, but we all deserve a little humiliation because we were all in on it, even Tom because you brought him in. Tom deserves to know what you’re thinking. Because you’re married to him. You made that choice. I didn’t have a choice, but the second you had a choice, you left.”

“You had a choice,” Jeena said, sneering. “You could’ve died, and we might’ve got a better deal.”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that,” Helen said. She marched across the room, grabbed Jeena by the hair, and hauled her out of the house, slamming the door behind her. As Helen began screaming obscenities and threatening to, “stove your head in,” Cynthia stood up and rushed to the door, but Jill stepped in front of her.

“Don’t,” Jill said. “If she likes us, she’ll stick around.”

“It’s not her fault,” Cynthia said.

“I know, but she’s still poison,” Jill said. Cynthia frowned, and Jill added, “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go too far. We’ll talk later.” She opened the door and closed it behind her.

Cynthia turned to Heath. “I really think we should go. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but we can’t help.”

“I shouldn’t have told you to leave him,” Silby said to Mary, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry!”

“Silby, please not now!” Cynthia said.

The last thing in the world I wanted was to get involved. This entire situation was a nightmare, but as a monk, I did spend more than a little time handling domestic matters, and this was as close to a familiar situation as I was bound to expect in space, so despite my hesitation, I stood.

“Listen,” I said firmly. “I know this situation is complicated, but I do have experience in handling disputes. Granted this is a great deal more involved than I would typically expect, but I do think what’s needed here is a mediator.”

“This isn’t your business, Monk,” Heath snapped.

“I know that. It’s everyone else’s business, and I think the point you’re trying to make is that Mary’s decision has affected everyone, not just you. I believe I understand. But as you can see,” I fell silent for a moment just to make sure Heath could hear Helen screaming, “the situation has devolved into chaos. I think you all need help.” I turned to Silby. “Young lady, you’ll have a chance to talk to Mary when this is done. But she needs to deal with her ex-husband first.” Silby nodded. I turned to Cynthia. “Cynthia, now is not the time to be gentle. I need you to quiet those two because Jill has no interest in doing so. Tell her I insisted, and I’m sure she’ll help you. Take Silby with you, please.”

Cynthia nodded and gave me a grateful smile. Then she took Silby and left the house. Once I was sure Helen was no longer screaming, I took Mary’s chair and moved it. I already had a sense of the dynamic. Tom, to his credit, was cognizant of the fact that he didn’t want to seem as if he were ganging up on Heath. By my account, he was the most rational man present, but he was also torn between his desire to be fair and his desire to support his wife. He was going to be forced into the position of ganging up on Heath regardless of what he did. This was the first error I needed to correct. I placed Mary’s chair on the opposite end of the table, facing Heath. Then I motioned for Tom to adjust his seat so that he was centered on the right-hand side. Then I moved and stood between Tom and Heath. That way neither man would be too eager to interject or escalate because I was standing over them, and hopefully Mary would hesitate to escalate as well because I would be mostly looking at her. I motioned for Mary to sit down.

When she was seated, I began, “Now, Mary, I want you to start. Speak as if you were speaking to Heath in private and hold nothing back. Heath, I want you to follow. And Tom, I assume you will want to remain silent for most of this, but if you choose to say something, please kindly raise your hand so I know to call on you.”

“This is like grade school,” Heath snarled.

“I know,” I admitted. “But as Mary said, too much is on the line. This might be the last time you all get to speak to each other, so we should take this slow. Mary when you’re ready.”

“I’m sorry, I left,” she said right away. “Tom, I’m sorry for saying that.”

“Honey, I already know,” Tom said with tears in his eyes.

I didn’t rebuke him for the outburst, but I made a note to be more stern if he chose to speak again. In this situation, order was everything. Heath scowled at me but said nothing.

“I was so angry. I still am, but I know it wasn’t your fault,” Mary said.

Heath shrugged. “Nothing can be done about it now. You’re safe. I’ve seen your home, and yeah, I’m still pissed at Tom, but I know he’s a good man . . . overall, and I know he’ll protect you and the kids. That’s all I care about. But I can’t see them. Do you understand that? I’m going to die. There’s no point.”

“Vivian remembers you, Heath,” Mary said. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why are you going to die?” a child’s voice asked.

We all turned, and an innocent girl, about seven, perhaps eight, stepped into the room. Whatever plan I might’ve had in that moment fell apart. Mary took advantage of the opportunity. She quietly got up as Heath melted and consulted the little girl while she wept. She brought the other kids into the room and introduced them to their father. The battle, if it could be called that, was over, and I decided that Mary was going to get her way. I motioned for Tom to stand. He did and followed me outside.

The girls were all sitting on the sidewalk. Jeena had a number of new bruises and a bloody nose, but I must confess, I didn’t feel bad for her. Helen had gotten a few bruises as well, but she didn’t seem to mind. A small smile was curled on her lips as she stared up at the hazy, orange sky.

“Thank you,” Tom said quietly. “I didn’t know how to handle it. I’m glad you stepped up.”

“I don’t think anybody could’ve handled that well. The child saved us all.”

Tom smiled and nodded. “Heath’s a good man. He’s my best friend. I knew he’d be angry, but I knew if Mary took off like some of the others did, well, it’d end bad. For her and the kids.”

“But you love her too,” I pointed out.

“I do,” Tom admitted. “I don’t know if I should feel guilty about that or not.”

“Not now,” I said. “There was pain. You’ll pay for that for the rest of your lives, I suspect, but God can use anything, and I believe He will use this for good.”

Tom snorted. “I’m surprised you still believe in God with all those aliens out there.” He met my eyes and grinned. “But something tells me you’ve had that conversation before.”

“Plenty of times,” I said, smiling. For the first time since my conversation with Jeena. I was beginning to feel my confidence come back, or perhaps my faith.

“Speaking of God,” Tom said. “When Madulluel called, she wanted Mary to tell you all that some soldier is going to meet you in town. I guess that will spare the crew a stop. From what I understand, he’s a believer too, so you’ll have company.”

My mind raced back to our conversation with Madulluel when she’d told us that we were supposed to meet somebody who would train both Heath and the girls as well as help me begin my mission work, although they were wanting to use my mission as bait for the Nordics. A tremor of fear went through me at that thought, but I thanked Tom for the information just the same.

Several hours passed, and I learned a great deal about how the crew operated while Mary and Heath had their final conversation. Tom was Heath’s main supplier of goods. The crew ran weapons mostly, but they also smuggled sex slaves and any other humans who they managed to free from subjugation. It turned out that Mary’s nameless planet was something of a hub for the Droguldai’s operations against the Nordics, and when the time was right and Madulluel had managed to convince the Droguldai to declare open war, they would use this planet as their base.

Heath and his crew had dramatically understated their role in the conflict. His reputation went far beyond causing trouble in a few brothels. He was a master at evading the Nordics during his runs. They knew of him, but they had so far been unable to catch the Eagle Seven, which was why they’d eventually started hunting for the women at the zoos. They were hoping to bait him out in the open. In a sense, he was already a war hero, which was why Madulluel was already placing so much faith in him, but the man wouldn’t admit this to himself.

Finally, Mary and Heath opened the door, and after a long and tear-filled goodbye to the children, Mary closed the door behind them. She gave Heath a long hug. She didn’t mean for us to hear her, but I heard her whisper, “So, you really forgive me?”

“Of course, I do,” Heath whispered back to her. “And you me?”

“Of course.”

Then Mary took her husband’s hand, and the pair moved to the sidewalk. “We’ll walk you to the mountains. Mark is waiting in town.”

“Mark?” Jill asked.

“The guy Mad wants us to meet,” Heath said.

“Right him,” Helen said.

We began walking, and there was more conversation. Before long, even Silby had made her peace with Mary and Heath. Everyone was filled with that bright emotion that swallows the heart when true restoration has taken place. During this time, I noticed that Jeena was more dour than usual. It seems seeing Silby, Mary, and Heath make amends had truly ruined her day. It was hard not to smile at that. Bitterness hates watching its fellow weeds die.

We walked on, but before we reached the mountains, Mary took me aside and said, “I’m sorry, but I never thanked you for your help.”

“I hope I did,” I said. “The situation seemed like something I was vaguely familiar with, despite the details.”

“You did,” Mary reassured me. She paused, then whispered. “There’s something that has kept me up at night. Something I was hoping you could help me with, given your profession, I guess.”

“I’ll try,” I said.

“I know it was a sin to divorce my husband . . . or leave him. He didn’t have a choice, and he was trying to keep us alive, but he still slept with those women, so I felt it was fair at the time. Now, I don’t know, but what can I even do? If I left Tom, it would just be another divorce, wouldn’t it? And if I returned to Heath, wouldn’t that be adultery? But by staying with Tom, am I still committing adultery? I don’t know. I had to make a choice, but I don’t know. Sir, how can God be real when there are situations that only leave you with sin?”

I stammered. I had no idea what to say, and I still don’t. At length, I told her that she was right to remain with Tom, but she saw my face, my uncertainty, and smiled. “I’m sorry. That’s a hard thing to spring on you, and you’ve had a long day. But please let me know if you find an answer. I know Heath’s a cynic, but I hope to see you all again.”

I told her I would, and she returned to her husband’s side. My mind was wrapped with that question for the rest of our walk. I suppose I’d been circling around that question for a while. All these situations seemed to have no answer, not really, nothing beyond moving on. Doubt crept in again, and by the time we were standing at the base of the mountains and Tom and Mary were waving goodbye, my mind was consumed by it. I looked up at Jeena. She was looking back at me with a smile.

I’ll record what happened then, Lord willing.

May God grant you peace.

Hieromonk Nicholas Petrov

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Last time, we looked at the film’s opening thought: “Technology and weaponry are the same; therefore . . .” To explore this premise, let’s dive into the movie’s opening scene again. It is often referred to as “The Dawn of Man.”

Before discussing the Dawn of Man scene, I should mention a couple details that are important during the opening. First is the music that plays right at the beginning. The song, commonly titled “Thus Spake Zarathustra,” is a tone poem written by German composer Richard Strauss. The song is a tribute to a book of the same name, Thus Spake Zarathustra (1883‒1885), by philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. There, Nietzsche introduced the concept of the übermensch, or overman.

Transcending evolution via technology

Nietzsche’s basic idea is that man might be able to choose his own morality and no longer be influenced by traditional moral codes. The overman is essentially an attempt to refute the nihilism that came with the rejection of Christianity. Nietzsche is famous for the saying “God is dead” but the rejection of Christianity posed a problem: how is humanity supposed to move forward without God? His solution was basically that man should become his own god.

Fyodor Dostoevsky had thoroughly refuted Nietzsche’s idea in his own book Crime and Punishment (1866). But for the purposes of 2001: A Space Odyssey, the music itself is introducing the film’s story question: Can man overcome?” Overcome what? Well, in this case, overcoming means to transcend evolution with the help of technology.

Natural or supernatural?

While this tone poem is playing, the audience is shown celestial bodies aligning, symbolizing an alignment of events, but whether this alignment has natural or supernatural causes is left open-ended. The important thing to remember is that the aligning of the celestial bodies is most often shown at the same time as the Monolith. The Monolith seems to be some kind of manifestation of this alignment that brings some revelation meant to lead mankind into the next phase of human advancement.

Homage to Wells

So, as with H.G. Wells’s work, evolution is affirmed. But the theory is treated as an adversary. The writers submit to the idea that death and destruction are necessary components when it comes to the creation of life, but the objective is to transcend this process. I should also mention here that Arthur C. Clarke co-wrote the screenplay with Stanley Kubrick, and he was a big fan of H.G. Wells. In fact, Kubrick’s film was primarily inspired by Clarke’s short story titled “The Sentinel,” which was published in 1951. Clarke’s book, also titled 2001: A Space Odyssey, was written alongside the screenplay for the movie.

The Monolith, considered

With the opening music and shot established, the film begins with a tribe of human ancestors, mimes in suits, trying to survive in some vacant wilderness. One tribe of these primitive ape-men is driven from a watering hole by another tribe. During that night, the audience sees them cowering and afraid in the barren landscape. But the following morning the notorious Monolith appears.

There are several things to note about this Monolith apart from the fact that it is seen with the alignment of the celestial bodies, the sun and moon. Although the strange object is supposed to be bringing knowledge with it, haunting music plays whenever it appears. If I were to guess, I would say the purpose of the music is to hype up the mystery of the device. But it also seems to suggest that the knowledge the Monolith presents also features some great danger attached to it. Technology can either save us or destroy us.

The Monolith also presents an obvious question: who sent it and why? Perhaps, narratively, this isn’t a big deal because, once again, we’re getting into the subject of soft vs. hard magic systems as they pertain to sci-fi. As I noted in my articles on time travel, a hard magic system has multiple rules attached to it. When done properly, these rules help advance the plot. A soft magic system has few if any rules and is used to play up the mystery behind a process, object, or character. A soft magic system can be used to make the process, object, or character, represent destruction or salvation for the protagonist.

In this film, the Monolith is clearly a part of a soft magic system. It is meant to represent a great mystery and presents the possibility of either salvation or destruction for the main characters. Strictly speaking, Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke are playing fair by not addressing who sent the Monolith. This is not laziness. It is a stylistic and narrative choice.

However, I personally didn’t care for their decision. I felt that addressing why the Monolith showed up when it did was relevant to the story. The alignment of events that led to man’s next evolutionary step should’ve been explored.

The mystery of the inciting incident

The arrival of the Monolith is really the inciting incident for the film. Normally, a writer doesn’t have to explain the inciting incident because it’s just the event that begins the plot. Chance events happen all the time, and, as long as the writer doesn’t lean on chance throughout the story, the audience is willing to accept an occasional unlikely circumstance, especially if the interesting aspect of the plot is the unlikely nature of the opening event.

Think of a rags-to-riches tale. It’s unlikely that a poor girl from the village is going to become a princess, but something inexplicable happens to make it so. So the story question becomes, what is this fish-out-of-water going to do in her unlikely situation? However, the problem here is that the Monolith returns three times in movie and I wanted to know why it keeps appearing.

I would argue that providing an explanation would’ve removed a distracting question from the plot and might’ve helped foreshadow the peril of knowledge that the computer Hal represents later. Something about man’s behavior should prompt the arrival of the Monolith, and that behavior must have pros and cons to it. But explaining why the Monolith appeared would require revealing who sent it, and doing so would kill a large part of the mystery it represents, so I understand why the two writers chose to keep things ambiguous. This part is just a question of taste, not flawed writing.

The Monolith as a computer screen?

I’ll end for now by saying that there was some debate while the film was in production about how the Monolith was meant to convey knowledge to the ape-like ancestors. The idea of putting a screen on the Monolith that showed the tribe how to do various things was floated around but eventually rejected. I think this was a good choice, but it did pose another problem. How is the Monolith conveying the desired ideas to the tribe? I’ll discuss how the two writers chose to address this problem next time.

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I believe I have covered all the major classes of shapeshifters that we typically deal with. The rest of the variants are comparatively harmless, unless of course you consider a man who can turn himself into a chair a threat. You’ll have shamans who dabble, turning into birds and such. Or perhaps there’s some cult who fancies turning into a cat. A few of them might fancy turning into walls, but a breathing bit of sheetrock is a giveaway. Then there are those poor fools who turn into flies, but that never works out well. This is not to say you won’t run into them, but these types are normally involved in reconnaissance, so they’ll be working for someone else, unless you have a stalker.

I dealt with a stalker once. The poor anti-social fool was in love—in lust would be more accurate—with a girl and went to a witch, who gave him a potion that turned him into a coat. He wanted to see the girl unclad, but she found the design of his coat unappealing, rather revolting really, and immediately took it out of her closet and tossed him into a charity bin. The man had to wait for the potion to wear off—unfortunately he’d drunk the whole thing instead of the recommended dosage and had to wait about a week—and found himself falling off a shelf, where it seems everyone frequenting the charity in question got to see him unclad.

It got much worse for the young man. Seeing as he was naked, he was carted off to jail, where the witch found him and demanded payment. Fortunately, this young man’s family was connected to the supernatural. (You’ll see that most of the people who find themselves in such situations are usually connected in some capacity with the supernatural. Victims of vampires and predatory monsters excluded, of course.) They’d worked with an associate of mine on another case, so I was brought in through him.

Now, in dealing with this sort of situation, the problem is two-fold. Number one: You must deal with the witch—or wizard or shaman or whatever title they’re using; it’s all the same, really. Number Two: You must deal with the link that has been created between the user and the witch. You see, if most people were to drink a potion, they’d find that the only thing they’ve discovered is the taste of toilet water. People must have a “hint of magic in them,” as the saying goes. The going theory is that they might have an antediluvian lineage, but this is speculation. Whatever the case may be, in order for the potion to work, one of two things must take place: either the subject must have their own battery, or the energy must be transferred. In the second scenario, this is done in two ways: either the energy is delivered into the potion with a specific subject in mind, or the witch, let’s say, will create a link with the subject. In my perverted stalker’s case, she’d done the latter.

Now, these links can be done in a variety of ways, either emotionally or physically. In my stalker’s case, he’d been given a curse mark, so it was easy to guess the issue. I won’t bore you with the details, but he took me to the witch. I confronted her. A brief spat ensued, and I broke her stuff. She did try to turn me into a frog. I suppose I should bring that up. So, here I’ll only say that in our line of business, we use what are called grounding spells, which are really a collection of runes. I’ve gotten mine from my wizard friend that I mentioned before. My vampire friend from the Order utilizes them as well, but he too must appeal to my wizard friend, and his situation is uncommon.

The Order has a policy of no witchcraft, which is fairly obvious, but this is where the situation gets dicey. The religious means will work nine times out of ten because most of these villains are utilizing the demonic, but every once in a while, we come across one of these clowns who has their own battery. In such cases, we need to use different methods because a human does have the ability to exert his or her own will into reality—to an extent, at least. In this case, we use runes. They’re not that dissimilar from the quilted patterns painted on buildings in certain regions of the American countryside. These patterns are supposedly a part of a folklore that says they can ward off spells. It’s the same idea—something about the shapes deflect or disperse the magic, but I won’t pretend to understand the details. The art is mostly lost because there are few such magical individuals, so the knowledge is relegated to the wizards. It’s one of the few times we interact with them, and once we have the runes, they’re not impossible to copy if one has an ounce of artistic talent, so technically they are not magical because they require no magic, but the Order still frowns on them because they interact with magic. This tension has created a bizarre policy where the Order will allow people in their orbit to utilize such methods, but they won’t create the runes themselves. It’s one of their charming little quirks. If you find yourself in need of such runes, you can try to find a wizard, but it might be easier to look for another hunter because they will likely have the runes and will know how to recreate them.

In my case, the runes kept me from turning into a toad and suffering a variety of mild diseases. I guess she wasn’t powerful enough to summon something more severe. And we were pretty much at a stalemate after I’d broken her things. Now, what to do in a situation like this? This woman had broken no laws, so far as I could tell, and how does one prosecute a man for becoming a coat? Furthermore, there was no demon to excise because the magical talents were her own. I decided that the young man being ogled instead of doing the ogling was punishment enough, but for her, I had to take more dramatic action. I basically knocked her out. I won’t get into how, but it was no small feat given that I require a cane, and when she woke up, she just so happened to have a new shiny tattoo on her back that just so happened to be a rune. I don’t know if such methods would work on a more experienced magical character, but she struck me as relatively new to the business. I also won’t get into how much money I had to pay to get someone to tattoo a woman against her will, but I did manage to sell the whole thing as a drunken prank, and I now require tattoo classes if you wish to join my employ. I’m sure she had the tattoo removed eventually, and normally, I wouldn’t have gone beyond a stern talking-to for minor offenses, but when attacking me, she did show a willingness and perhaps an eagerness to do harm, so I judged that seeing me unaffected by her charms and a painful object lesson, which could’ve been so much worse, would suffice to dissuade her from future mischief. The last I heard, she’d married the stalker.

I did have one other case, but it’s hardly worth mentioning because the moment I found the shapeshifter, he caved and gave me the location of the vampire I was looking for. He was basically a familiar the vampire had kept around because of his talent. There have also been a couple cases where I’ve had to deal with what we call a Mimic. This is a shapeshifter that pretends to be someone you know. This class of shifters is not as dangerous as people portray them. It turns out that pretending to be an individual is a lot easier when simply trying to trick a security camera or when passing someone by. But prolonged reconnaissance in another man’s form is quite a different matter. These types of shifters tend to give themselves away pretty fast. A body might look the same, but the muscles in the face are almost always changed. The posture has changed. The inflection of the original person’s words has changed. The shapeshifter may be wearing someone’s skin, but in my experience, they may as well be wearing another body for all the good it does them.

Once you encounter such impersonators, you’ll see what I mean. Should you suspect that a shapeshifter is wearing a friend, all you have to do is ask a personal question that the original man is bound to know but the impersonator will have no reference for. Now, sometimes the shapeshifter will have access to the original man’s mind, but they still need to know what to look for, so just be sure not to give the shifter any clues to the question’s answer. For myself, I think the best way to handle these creatures is to let them go on thinking that they’ve fooled you, then, after you’ve located the person they’ve been mimicking, I would spring a trap on them. Once you have them cornered, then you can find out who sent them, and that will probably wrap up your case.

As to how mimics are made, there are a few naturals, but most are drinking a potion or using a spell. However, many of these varieties are from the magical realm, and they use a variety of illusionary magics. Some hunters like to carry special glasses, or iron, or crystals to dispel the magic, but I myself have never found these to be necessary because the end result is always the same. The body language and the lack of intimate knowledge are enough to detect a fraud, and I’ve so rarely come across these entities that it seems adding glasses and crystals to my arsenal hardly seems necessary.

Shapeshifters think they are crafty, but a bird or bat flying in a perfectly straight direction, without either descending or ascending or turning, is a clue. Or perhaps a rat sitting perfectly still and looking at you is another clue. Basically, look for out-of-place human behavior, things that indicate intelligence, or don’t go where rats and bats frequent. As for the flies, the spiders will deal with them.

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There is no doubt that 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) is a science fiction classic. Stanley Kubrick’s realistic depiction of space travel changed the nature of the sci-fi genre. But I must confess that when watching the film, I felt like I was missing something.

I understand that the visual effects were astounding for their time. But I couldn’t decide if the film was trying to say something particular or if its entire purpose was to show its visual effects. Did the story simply exist to justify the presentation? That’s hard to believe, given how much time is spent on the first section of the film.

2001: A Space Odyssey is structured as three acts. But it would be more accurately described as three completely different stories with no connection with each other beyond the appearance of the Monolith. The Monolith is a giant space domino, and it’s difficult to describe what it actually does.

We’ll talk more about the Monolith later, but the important thing to note for now is that the Monolith is the only connecting thread for the film.

Breaking every convention worked in this case

Personally, I hated the movie’s structure. I can’t say that the choice to divide the film into three unconnected acts was bad because 2001: A Space Odyssey has overcome the test of time. In fact, it breaks just about every story convention I hold dear. And yet people still seem to love it.

I think I know why they do and that issue will be one of my main subjects in the next few reviews. I will go as far as to say that the why behind this film’s success is my “Monolith,” a fine narrative thread that connects an otherwise seemingly unconnected series of articles on the film. But now, for the sake of my own sanity as a film critic, let me address the story structure issues.

But where is the story loop?

A coherent story must travel in a loop. That is, the story has to close. Now typically, in a three-act structure, the writers will try to close the loop by intertwining the plots and concluding all of them by the end of the film. This way everything seems connected, and the viewers don’t feel like they wasted their time with a story that wasn’t going anywhere.

I believe 2001 was trying to build one large loop through the course of three individual plots. But this created a narrative issue. Whether the issue was intentionally created depends on the question I asked earlier: Was the film intended simply to show off spectacular special effects or was there a deeper meaning to the story?

Here’s the technical problem: There are three protagonists, but the viewer doesn’t see any sort of resolution for the first two. They see a resolution — relatively speaking — only for the third. I found the expectation of a resolution for the first two hard to shake. I kept expecting Kubrick to demonstrate how all three acts are connected, but he never does. Because I never learned anything more about the first two acts, the third act felt incomplete. Instead of the story coming full circle, I just got more visuals, more details, more clues, more and more, until the story just — stopped.

Chaotic surrealism can undermine emotional stakes in the story

This sort of chaotic surrealism can be intriguing from a presentation standpoint. That is, it’s arresting, unusual. But, in terms of storytelling, it can be a real problem because an unconnected collage of events can undermine the stakes of the story. At least, it did for me. Let me explain why.

For plots A and B, all the audience basically gets is a setting and an inciting incident. In plot A there’s a little more — that is to say that the inciting incident has consequences. When the monolith lands among ape-like creatures four million years ago, they begin to display more human-like behavior:

But plot B, where space-age humans are investigating the monolith’s appearances, shows the consequences of its inciting incident only in plot C. This makes plot C very confusing because its inciting incident is completely unconnected to either of the first two plots.

This is an issue because in both plots A and B the story arcs are incomplete. That is, the audience never sees the full consequences of the inciting incidents for either of the first two protagonists. The reason this matters is because if the three-act structure is not going to be interconnected in any way, then the first two acts have to, somehow, foreshadow what’s going to happen in the third act in order for anybody to be invested in the final protagonist.

For myself, by the time I’ve gotten to Act Three, I’m asking, “If Kubrick hasn’t told me the fate of the previous two characters, why should I care what happens to this third character? I’m not going to get any answers.” And I didn’t. By the start of act three, the most well-known plot in the film, I was already checked out.

The first act (or story)

I want to discuss the first act of this movie in a lot of detail because I feel like it deserves the time. Here’s a synopsis that demonstrates my point. The Dawn of Man sequence basically follows a tribe of primitive ape-like ancestors as they go about their lives. It’s a bleak existence. The creatures are aggressive but have no adequate way to defend themselves against their environment.

A tribe of apes is driven from their watering hole by another tribe, and shortly afterward, the Monolith appears. The apes jump around it, touch and inspect it, then the Monolith disappears and everything returns to normal. That is until one of the apes remembers the Monolith and picks up a bone. He begins swinging it around and realizes the bone can be used as a weapon.

It’s difficult to describe the connection between the Monolith and the bone, but I plan to return to that issue later. What I want to focus on here is the story structure. The life of the ape tribe is the setting. The appearance of the Monolith is the inciting incident, and the revelation that a bone could be used as a weapon is the consequence of that inciting incident. The next consequence is that the ape-like ancestor uses the bone to chase off the tribe that had pushed his group away from their watering hole.

Typically, the next step in the story would be escalation. The consequences of using the bone to defeat the other tribe would lead to that tribe picking up bones as well. Thus, the main ape protagonist would suffer a consequence for changing the status quo. But this typical story progression doesn’t occur. Instead, a bone thrown into the air turns into a space station, leading us to plot B. That also implies that technology and weaponry are equivalent.

As I said earlier, I can’t say the movie is bad because the greatest measure of a film’s success is the test of time. Something about this film works even though it breaks conventions. I will try to explain what I think is going on here next time out. But for now here’s a closing thought: 2001’s first two acts are the cinematic equivalent of an incomplete thought. “Technology and weaponry are the same; therefore . . .” See you next time!

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It’s hard to mark time in space. Oh, there are clocks. You can check the numbers, but before long, you realize that’s all they are. A man needs a planet. The rising and falling of a sun helps him feel the passage of time. On a ship, a man is surrounded by suns, so that extra sense has no grounding. He exists in an eternal, stagnate moment.

At least, such was my frame of mind as we traveled to Mary’s home planet. Jeena’s words lingered in my heart, sinking me into melancholy. I couldn’t say which of us had won our exchange, but her vicious grin, her furious eyes, her hopelessness bore into my soul, made me ask questions, made me doubt, a frightening thing in space.

I wasn’t alone. Jeena’s poison affected the whole crew. A somber air fell over the Eagle Seven. As the stagnate hours wore on, I spent most of my time in the hull, leaning over the crates, hoping to write faster than my thoughts. Over time, I noticed Heath, Cynthia, Helen, and Silby leaving the cockpit and entering the hull as well. They didn’t seem to know I was there. They would sit together in a semi-circle on the floor and just hold one another like they were huddling together against the cold. Silby often wept softly as they spoke in whispers. They would do this for a couple hours at a time, then go to their rooms. At first, Cynthia was the only one who would hold her, but finally, Helen held the girl instead, and lastly, Heath. Silby cried the loudest when he took her in his arms.

Jeena kept her distance from the group, but her presence loomed over everyone. She sat in a corner, her cold grin never gone. She spoke to no one, and no one to her, not even me, although I felt as if she were standing over my shoulder whenever I tried to write. It wouldn’t be fair to say that the girl was a devil, but she became the personification of my doubts, an unfair thing to place on a girl who’d endured so much, but during those stagnant hours, my fear and anger overwhelmed my sympathy. It wasn’t her words that had gotten to me. As I said, it was her brokenness.

Sitting in that hull, I got a glimpse of what life was like in that cave. I could see Heath and the others, unwashed and unclad, huddled together, whispering and crying while countless eyes, some indifferent, some curious, some cruel and mocking, passed over them. They had found strength in each other, but I got the sense that Jeena, either physically or emotionally, had remained alone and therefore was the first to break. She was probably broken long before Madulluel had ever bought them.

In time, Jill approached me in the hull and beckoned me into the cockpit. I followed her and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat while she flew the ship. For a while, we said nothing, and I relished the relief I was already feeling. It seemed Jeena’s aura was limited to the hull. Then Jill spoke, “You’ve been watching them, right?”

“I have.”

“You know what I see?”

“Regression.”

“Yeah. I don’t think we can take Silby on. Jeena is obvious. She’ll make sure she’s dead in a couple years, and she’ll take whoever she’s near with her, but I had a little hope for Silby. She seems nice enough. But seeing the four of them cowering like a bunch of deer in the back,” she shook her head, “that scares me. Heath’s head needs to be in the game if we’re going to war.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince him,” I said.

“I’ll talk to Mary,” Jill said. “I’ve never met the woman, but if she has half the hold on Heath that I think she does, she should be able to pull it off.” She turned to me, stared for a moment, then she must’ve seen something on my face because she laughed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just a passenger, but I saw Cynthia treating you like a shrink, so I thought I’d try the same thing. I need a sounding board. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” I said. Anything was better than feeling Jeena’s shadow in the back.

Jill patted my hand. “I wasn’t with them. I guess that’s another reason I’m talking to you. You’re the only other person not under that group spell.”

“I wonder if things will improve once Jeena is gone,” I suggested.

Jill shook her head. “Silby was tied to the falling out, and we’re going to see Mary. They’re making amends now, which is good, but once Heath sees his first wife again, it’s all gonna come roaring back, and they’ll have to start the process over. I think you’ve heard enough to guess what happened.”

“They were a part of the zoos and forced to have children together. Then Madulluel bought them. Things were marginally better. Then Madulluel used Heath to have a child, proving that the Droguldai and humans could breed, which enabled her to declare our two species equal. After that, she let Heath and the others go, and all the resentment that had been building up over the years came to surface, and all the women except Cynthia and Helen left. I take it Silby and Jeena were the ring leaders.”

Jill nodded. “All true, but there’s one detail you’ve missed. The Nordics have had trouble getting the humans to breed like that in the past. They had a problem. The Nordics want humans, but they don’t want the best and brightest. They took, I guess you could say, weaker males. They considered Heath a weaker male, genetically weaker, I mean. It’s not just a matter of being shorter and out of shape, although they went for those characteristics. The Reptilians had done a great deal of genetic research, and they were looking for genetic lines that wouldn’t produce taller, muscular males in the future. I don’t know if they did the same with the women or not, but I suspect they didn’t because the Reptilians seem to be under the impression that most of the dominant genetic traits are carried through the men. Anyway, the Nordics took that research, and when they did a mass abduction, they killed most of the men save the ones who had the weakest genetic lines. That’s why most humans in the Milky Way are shorter than their earthly counterparts, so the technique had some success. But the problem was that the women weren’t really attracted to the men, and the Nordics had a hard time getting them to cooperate. I mean, they could get them to do anything with constant oversight, but that wasn’t cost-effective. So, they started selecting women who had some connection with the males. You see where I’m going?”

My eyes widened. “Heath knew all of them.”

“He was attracted to them. He remembered them. Now, no one knows how the Nordics made their selections. Some say they scanned Earth’s records looking for connections, but personally, I think they’ve got some way to scan the mind and see memories. They saw who Heath remembered. Jeena was a crush from school. I don’t think there’s any record of that, but the Nordics knew. And Jeena probably didn’t even remember him. So, you can imagine her shock when she was suddenly abducted and expected to fulfill the fantasies of a man she’d probably said five words to.”

Horror and pity rushed through me, and I suddenly felt very guilty for comparing Jeena to a devil. “That’s awful,” I whispered.

“And imagine how Mary feels,” Jill said. “These weren’t just women from nowhere. She was sharing her husband with a bunch of lost loves. If that wasn’t the case, the most logical thing for her to do would have been to make Heath push the others away, but she didn’t. She left.”

“That certainly makes sense,” I said. “You’re sure they didn’t make Heath pick his suiters? I don’t see how the Nordics could have such technology.”

Jill frowned. I realized I’d said something very foolish. She was filled with indignation for her friend.

“He’d rather die,” she muttered.

“I’m not judging him,” I said quickly. “I see the man he is now.”

“Guilt has made him the man he is now,” Jill snapped. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Sorry. You just don’t understand. Heath . . . he acts like he told them. I’ve heard his story. They hooked him up to a bunch of machines, altered his body, and he was in and out of consciousness the whole time. I think he believes he must’ve told them his preferences and doesn’t remember it, but I don’t believe that. What were all those machines doing? They already had his genetic information. That was why he was selected. What else could they have been looking for? I’ve tried to tell him this, but he doesn’t believe me. And you saw him back at that brothel. The way he charged those monsters, dodged their lasers. He’s not afraid to die. He’s been like that ever since we met.”

I gave Jill a gentle smile. “You love him.”

Jill blinked, then frowned. She was silent for a time, then she whispered, “Don’t you ever tell him. He’s got enough on his mind.”

“I’m sure he knows by now,” I said.

“Knowing it and talking about it are two different things. You’ve been told I was sick. You know my story.”

“I know you have a sensitive disease. I know that you’re going to die,” I said.

“He saved me. They were all there, but he charged those Nordics. I wasn’t his mission, but he saw an opportunity, and he took it. He freed me from that life just as they were about to kill me because I’d been infected and was useless to them.” She shook her head. “A sensitive disease,” she repeated, sneering. “Call it what it is: an STD, an alien STD. You know what would happen if I were to give into my love? He’d die. In twenty-four hours. It’ll take a decade for this thing to eat out my insides, but he’d convulse and vomit and bleed for twenty-four hours. I can’t do that to him. I can’t even talk about it. Get close to it! Do you understand?”

I nodded and said, “I’m sorry. I see I’ve upset you. I imagine I’m making a lousy sounding board.”

Jill’s shoulder sagged. After another silence, she said, “It’s not your fault. It’s these Nordics. They get in your head. They convince you you’re nothing. At least, Cynthia and Helen understand that. I’d give anything to help Heath not feel so guilty. Even if he did tell the Nordics who he wanted, that’s not who he is now.”

I took Jill’s hand. Her eyes widened, but she let me. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure they did something to his mind.” I wish I hadn’t lied. I hate myself for it. I wasn’t sure what Heath had or hadn’t done, and I doubted there was any way to find out. I was certain the man didn’t remember doing it; otherwise, I don’t see how he could’ve found the strength to encourage the others. Maybe they drugged him. Maybe they tortured him and wiped his memory. And maybe they really had read his mind, but either way, I felt that Jill needed to hear Heath was innocent, so I indulged her desire. God, please forgive me, and please don’t make me tell her my doubts.

Jill saw something on my face. She must’ve misread my thoughts because she said, “Don’t pity me, Monk. I finished crying over my fate a long time ago. I’m not like the others. I do believe in God. I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. I believe he died for my sins. I believe he saved me, and you know what else? I believe God destined me to bare this burden, and I’ve found I can. So, don’t pity me because I was made for this. God is going to judge me by this test, and I think I’m going to pass it. If this war goes a certain way, I know I will.”

I was about to ask her what she meant, but she pointed out the window, and I saw Mary’s planet. I’ll cover what happened then in the next entry, Lord willing.

May God grant you peace.

Hieromonk Nicholas Petrov

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