PILL

Chapter Two

Telomeres: A TED Talk

The applause abated, and the house lights came up. I grabbed my Bellagio-branded water bottle and stood. I straightened my tie and smoothed my all-access pass lanyard while I waited for Gary to collect his things. He gave me an odd smile and nodded his head toward the exit.

I left Hall F with more questions than answers. This was typical of a lot of TED Talks I watched. I’d seen so many of them on YouTube. When Gary asked if I wanted to go to Vegas with him for the 2025 presentation, I jumped at the opportunity. I don't rightly know whether he asked me to go because he knew I enjoyed the talks or because it was Vegas.

The room echoed in a droning murmur of other attendees discussing what we had just watched. There was some weird mixture of colognes, Starbucks, and unchecked body odors swirling around. I admit I’m easily distracted and often fall prey to sensory overload.

“So, how much of that did you understand?” Gary asked above the sheeple-esque stampede toward the next Talk.

“Well, it was fascinating, for sure, but how much of my attention was on the science and how much on the presenter is up for debate.” I rubbed the back of my neck and craned it enough for a good crack. Gary gave me that don’t be a dick face he has when I’m crass. “What about you? Did that all make sense to you?”

“Considering that I wrote the brief she referenced, quite a lot of it.”

“No shit? Really? Is that why you asked me to come, so you could show off your big brain? Dude, why didn’t you give the talk yourself?”

“As you already alluded to, people will pay much closer attention to a beautiful woman. We needed this to be heard and remembered.”

He slowed for a step or two and wet his lips before taking my arm and pulling me from the exiting crowd. “Do you remember back in 2020 when the military released those UAP videos?”

I slow-played my answer, somewhat embarrassed by how deep down that rabbit hole I went back then. “The UFO stuff? Yeah, I remember. I mean, vaguely.”

“And it felt like it was this slow-burn kinda thing where they might be letting out certain details so we’d be ready when the E.T.s came down from the skies?” He looked from side to side as if he was serious. As if someone could be listening. He always did this before he launched into a bit.

I played along.

“Yeah, man. I think being cooped up during the pandemic had a lot to do with how pervasive those ideas became. I also remember we spent way too many late nights at the lake talking about that shit.” If he’s planning to make me feel bad about my wasted evenings, I wanted to let him know I remember him taking it seriously, too.

“Yes, we did. And what do you suppose was the point of all that media attention? Looking back now, five years later, and there’s still no alien contact?”

“Hell if I know. Social experiment? To see how long an idea can thrive without evidence? But, then, folks have obsessed over UFOs since the forties. I’m not sure the UAP thing made a big difference.”

“Not in those already invested, except to fuel their fantasy that much more, no. But think about all the new ears those reports fell on. It went from the fringe to mainstream media.”

Gary’s bits are usually funnier than this by now. I think he’s lost his edge.

“Ok, so, you’re saying it served a purpose? To what end? For who?”

Gary shook his head and spoke in that quick, staccato rhythm he does when he’s frustrated with me. “I don’t know. We’re not supposed to know. That’s not the point. I'm just using that as an example of how information about a paradigm shift needs to be eased into for the sake of the collective psyche.”

I gave Gary a blank stare. “We just sat through an exceptionally interesting TED Talk about telomeres and how DNA-”

“Chromosomes,” he corrected.

“Right, how a chromosome’s ends, the telomeres, shrink over time, and this causes aging-”

“You’re a little loose on that, but I’ll allow it.”

“Whatever. I’m saying, I don’t know what I’m saying. The question is; What are you saying? Aliens control our chromosomes?”

Gary bit his lip. I could see by his facial expressions that not only was I wrong, but I had missed the joke entirely.

“Forget about the aliens, Perry. This story isn’t about aliens. That was just to help you understand how it’s crucial to eke out information over time when there’s big news.”

I thought about what Gary meant for a minute. He played a crucial role in how this TED Talk was presented. A talk about telomeres, the things that control aging. He then confused the fuck out of me with a tangential story about how the US government dangled aliens on a stick but never delivered them. This is why Gary works in a lab at a biomedical research company, and I work in sales for a pharmaceutical company. I still don’t get the joke.

“Perry, did you hear the part in the talk about the immortal jellyfish and the hydra?”

“Yes. Cool stuff. And the Glass Sponge, too. Put that 500-year-old quohog to shame.”

He glanced from side to side. “We did a thing.”

“You did a thing?” I nodded.

“Well, my company did a thing.”

“Your company did a thing?” Why is he dragging this out?

“Yeah. An I'm-not-supposed-to-talk-about-it-thing.”

“But you are going to obtuse me to death until I figure it out?”

“Kinda sorta was the plan. Look, I could get in a lot of trouble for saying anything this early.”

I’m still waiting on a punchline. “Like I can’t go buy shares of your employer’s company because of insider trading laws, or we get walked out into the desert and made to dig our own graves?”

“The latter.”

This is a terrible joke. “Well fuck you then, don’t tell me shit.”

“Immortality.”

“Shiiiiit. What part of don’t tell me didn’t you hear?” He usually gives up by now.

“The woman who gave the talk, Susan Pierce…”

“Yeah, super cute. I agree with your ideas on attention. I see why you chose her to do the talk. Smart and sexy. Two qualities you lack in spades.”

“She’s eighty-seven.” Was this his punchline?

I jibe back. “I’ve always liked older women.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me too.” He didn’t crack. I’ve known Gary since second grade. I can tell when he’s pulling my leg. He said he was serious. I can see that he is. I didn’t miss the joke. There was no joke. A shiver ran up my spine, and the world started to dim at the edges. Some part of my baser instincts told me to be afraid. Afraid of my oldest friend? No. Afraid of the impact his information would have. “I have soft hands, Gary.”

“I know you do, buddy. What’s that mean, even? He held me steady as my head grew light.

“I don’t think I can dig my own grave.”

Gary laughed. “Well then, I suspect you’ll have to keep this a secret or…”

“Or what? Jesus, man. I’m gonna puke. I know goddamned well that something this big really is something people get killed over.” I bent at the waist and tried to stave off the hyperventilation I felt coming on.

Gary reached into the inside breast pocket of my sports jacket and fished out my asthma medicine. “Here, take a tug on this.”

I obliged, standing erect, one hand on my hip and the other working the inhaler. “This isn’t a joke, is it, Gary?”

He inclined his head and raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Perry. It’s not a joke. It’s the future, and I want you to be a part of it.”

“I think I need a drink.”

We walked for a while in silence. He was letting me process things. I didn’t know much, but I knew enough. I think he wanted me to figure most of it out on my own. Ask the questions that would help me make sense of it all. We had an unwritten language, he and I. Whether it was our parents, girls, work…whatever it was. We knew when to talk and when to listen. He was listening now.

We closed in on a noisy sports book bar on the far side of the casino and took a booth in the back. Other people’s empties littered the table, but we didn’t care. Before he could start up again, a fifty-something blonde server approached the table. For a moment, I wondered if it was Halloween. She seemed to be dressed as a twenty-something. I know what I said before about older women, but there’s older, and there’s worn out. She was pleasant enough, which surprised me. If I were to judge this book by her cover, I’d have pegged her as impatient, gruff, and sour. Some vestigial troglodyte part of my brain took one point two seconds to formulate a backstory for this poor apparent divorcee from Minnesota.

“What can I get you fellas?” She swung her arm in a wide swath to scoop the detritus onto her little tray, then wiped the table with the dirtiest rag I’d ever seen.

“A couple of draughts, please, big ones.” Gary slid a black AmEx across the still-wet table. “Leave it open.”

She snatched up the card with a mostly toothy smile, tapped it on the side of her tray, and gave Gary a further nauseating wink.

“How,” I asked. He knew what I meant. I know he did.

“There’s a program, obviously not public yet. They’re letting us pull from our inner circles for the next round. If you say yes, we can start you when we get back.”

My ridiculous mind ran away from me, and I shook my head as the abject fear washed over me. I imagined 10,000 needles in every awful part of my body. Tubes and lasers and a live ferret laying eggs in my pancreas. Again, I’m in sales.

“Perry. Take a breath.”

“I dunno, Gary. I’m not much for being a lab rat. Soft hands, remember? I don’t have the constitution for, for… whatever you need to do to me.”

He reached inside his sports coat and pulled out an Altoids tin. He fussed with it for a moment and got it open. “Relax, buddy. It’s just a pill.”