brisk biologoSciFi "The Outpost"

The News Traveller

     He is raging the silent war now seen reflected in the rearview mirror, dancing amidst  reverse images of the jungle; He remembers the news. He decides, in split decisions, to turn around, or not to turn around; he thinks by doing so, the news will jump out the back of the vehicle, as if some escaping prisoner in a moment of truth. Cooper doesn't follow his primal instinct; he keeps driving onward to his destination, to the Outpost, the one that stands so silent above the cliffs. He drives up the valley, even more aware of the news, the news still riding him, as if a killer alien morphed into something friendly, just for the ride, still wearing its ugliness, acting as guide, navigator of destruction, eyes open and aware. 

     Although it has joined Cooper on the trip as if an untrusted armed guard, a secret passenger, Cooper is taken by the feeling of calm, pleasurable ritual; He views the news for a while, as something that brings the force of mental activity, the force of physical, helpful, activity; in getting this vehicle to its rightful destination.  

     Beyond the little excitement of the other news, of so many people in the world hurt, doing something stupid in the darkness--with wild animals--people inattentive to their immediate environment, the ones who only experience the world through screens or monitors. The more gruesome, the more detailed exposure to the wild, pushing boundaries of the appropriate. Survival as so much entertainment, with their gadgets at the ready for gadget rescue, and by who? Wild miscalculations in a mad rush of antics to simply push, push too much

    And now this news, as if journalists could write in the miniscule detail of scientists when required. Lots of people are getting hurt, but at least no one is killed, yet, not for that reason anyway. 

     He is unhappy for the ones who think that because they were in a bind, the technology could save them. Yes, the GPS that was there to find them is what led them to get lost, they with their no common sense, map, or compass, an ironic fanatic; people's real intrigue is with the gruesome reality of life. 

     Cooper looks into the mirror again, the vehicle makes its usual sound on rocks as he  goes up the valley, smiling at the idea of no posted speed limits. The lush dark tropical greens, ocean sunset oranges, become more important than destination.