Star Trek - Outwardly Mobile
A Scene in Paris
by Jay P Hailey
2131 - Paris
"Do you know how hard it is to find you?" Michael said
Georges turned and nodded to his old friend "Michael. What a pleasant surprise, please sit down."
Michael's tone was polite enough, but his eyes burned. "You're a hard man to get hold of, Georges."
Georges sighed "It is getting harder to escape one's past."
Carla returned from the inside of the cafe.
The street noises were chaotic but gentle. The city was going about it's business, ignoring them.
"Who is your friend, Georges?" Carla asked. She was a slim, raven haired woman, who bore some resemblance to a sword and some to a hypersonic wing.
George smiled. He appeared to be a man just past middle age, a touch over weight. He was dressed well, if a bit generically. He could be any face in the crowd.
Michael was a blond man whose formerly chiseled appearance had aged into sharpness. His face a looked pinched. He still had a deep, melodic voice.
"This is Michael LeGrodi, An artist of my acquaintence." Georges said.
This casual description earned a sharp look from Michael, but he smiled with the remains of charm at Carla. "And you are?"
"Dr Carla Diestes." She said, establishing her title as a sort of shield.
"May I ask what field?" Michael asked
Georges spoke warmly. "She is a physicist, Michael, you are in the presence of genius."
Michael looked sour. "You used to say the same of me, Georges."
"Dinner along the Seine has yet to be equaled Michael. You should be proud." Georges said.
"That is yours?" Carla asked.
Michael nodded sharply. "That was thirty years ago."
Carla spoke with a touch of wonder "I used to have a print of it over my bed. I'd look at it and dream of that night, that I was walking there."
Michael passed this off. "It has not even been equaled by me. Perhaps this is why we lost contact, eh, Georges?" The resentment was sharp and it burned beneath the surface.
"Perhaps I should give you two some privacy." Carla said,
"No!" Michael's voice was sharp. "Please stay. Perhaps you can help me unravel some of the mysteries of the universe."
Georges looked annoyed.
Carla sat down, a touch intimidated by the stranger.
"How old are you, Georges?" Michael asked. "Tell us, please."
Georges looked tired. "How old do you think I am Michael?"
"I do not know." Michael answered "But I know you are older than you claim."
Carla looked at Michael. She was afraid he was a madman.
"Do you know he looked just this way when he recruited me from the academy of arts forty years ago?" Michael said to Carla. "I was sixteen."
Carla looked at Georges. Georges looked at Michael impassively. "What do you want Michael?"
"What was a wonderful performance you gave fifteen years ago." Michael snarled. "A dark room, a sick bed. That smell."
Georges shrugged casually. "I felt it would help you."
"You still rejected me." Michael said
"As had several banks and investment institutions, Michael. Your idea simply was not a good one." Georges said sadly.
"Damnit!" Michael snarled. "I could have made it work."
"What was this?" Carla asked.
"A business proposal." Georges explained
"I was going to open an art school and teach everyone to be a genius." Michael said. "But I suppose that would have damaged the resale value of your collection."
Georges looked very sad. "I tried a similar thing myself long ago. You even reinvented our methodology, Michael. It didn't work for us. It wouldn't work for you."
Michael's anger was closer to the surface now. "I could have made it work!"
Georges denial was small but very final. "No. Not then, not now."
Michael switched tracks. "Carla, you are a genius then?"
She looked uncomfortable. "I am gifted in the maths and sciences."
"And this old man, or whatever he really is." Michael snarled "He recruited you."
Carla looked at Georges again. "Yes. I am grateful."
"He'll use you up." Michael hissed.
"What do you mean?"
"He loves the youthful energy of the young genius. He has had a string of us over time. I have found a few. Most were still fooled by his line." Michael explained.
"Are you no longer a genius, Michael?" Georges asked.
"Damn you, no! And I blame you." Michael almost lost control of his tone.
"But what did I say when we first started out?"
Michael's face screwed up. "You let me know what you'd be taking from me, But I was too young to know any better!"
Carla looked at Georges horrified.
"He gave you the same warning, didn't he?" Michael smiled.
"I am not some space monster sucking out your brain, Michael. I told you the truth then, and I tell it now. Genius except for the smallest minority is an ephemeral experience." Georges said quietly.
"I refuse to accept that!" Michael snarled.
"It doesn't matter what you do or do not accept Michael. Have you done any studies on the nature of the creative mind? Have you read any of the material? I know it. I wrote some of it, and I funded much of the rest." Georges tone was sharp.
Michael's face screwed up. "To serve man."
Georges burst out with a loud laugh "That was truly funny Michael."
Carla turned to Georges. "Please tell me the truth. How old are you?"
George smiled sadly. "The truth is that it is nothing I can share with you and Michael or I would have. I will not tell you my age or anything else about me. That is my business, not yours."
Carla blinked at Georges a bit.
"You do not share. You take. You are a monster." Michael said.
"I did not abandon you Michael. I made sure you had money and wealth and were well taken care of." Georges said.
"You tied up the money from MY work is trusts it took me years to break." Michael said.
"And when you did, you lost most of it to legal bills and poorly conceived business ventures." Georges said. "The story is old. Genius of your type is notoriously bad at handling money."
Michael snarled. "I am no longer a genius. You took that from me!"
"I took nothing from you, except the light which you reflected."
Georges said. "Tell me the truth. Why are you really here? What do you
really want?"
The admission drug itself out of Michael. "I want it back. I want to be
who I used to be."
"The past is closed to us Michael."
"No!"
"Yes."
"What did you take from him?" Carla asked.
"I took nothing." Georges insisted, "I will explain again,
although I doubt you will hear it any better than Michael did forty years ago.
Painfully, painfully few of us reach the level of true genius, the ability to
think new thoughts, to invent new ways. And for the tiny minority that do, the
effect is ephemeral. Genius has a shelf life Carla. I didn't want to say this
but by the time you are thirty, you will be a normal physicist, crunching numbers
and analyzing data. That almost mystical ability you have to see a problem in
a way no one else has will largely be gone."
"This is not true!" Michael raged.
"It is." Gaeorges said. "Sadly it is. You must reconcile yourself to this. You will one day be a normal person. You must find the joy and beauty in the life of the normal person."
"Bullshit!"
"Michael resents the fact that he can no longer set the art world on it's ear. That when he produces a work, almost no one looks or cares. He no longer feels important." Georges said.
"I AM no longer important!" Michael said "Not because of some social science horseshit you drivel but because of you!"
"Important to whom, Michael? How is your wife?" Georges asked. "Your bother?"
"Shut up!" Michael snarled.
Georges turned to Carla "You know this, scale is everything. Someday you will be important only to the people in your immediate life. You must accept this and be willing to find the joy there."
"Yes, when Georges is done with you and there is only a banal shell left." Michael added.
"And what experience of you does this girl have now?" Georges asked. "How important are you to her?"
"You know what I mean!" Michael snarled.
"Yes, yes. Important to the people who matter. The literati, the jet set. The rich who fly around like self important butterflies. Like academe, which is primary interested in justifying itself, repeating itself and telling you how important IT is." Georges snarled back.
Michael reared back.
"You were taken in by shallow people who added nothing to your life and then asked what you had done for them lately." Georges snapped.
"Why did you leave me?" Michael asked, shifting uncomfortably.
"Because it was time. You were already past your prime, but had to make the next big party, the next big showing. You had grown stale." Georges said.
"Will that happen to me?" Carla asked
"I love that newly blooming flower of thought and desire." Georges said. "There is nothing quite as intoxicating and seeing someone truly exceptional shake the world down it's foundations."
Georges turned. "Yes. There will come a time when we go our separate ways one way, or the other. I will not leave you uncared for. Do not make the mistakes that Michael made and you, your family and loved ones will be well provided for for the rest of your life and some time beyond that. Perhaps you be able to find a young genius of your own to watch flower and bloom."
Carla looked at Michael and Georges
The snarl festered on Michael's face.
"I gave you this same speech forty years ago, didn't I?" Georges asked.
"Damn you." The gun Michael held under the table barked. Everyone jumped in surprise, then Georges slumped over the table.
Carla screamed a sincere and honest scream.
Michael lept up and ran down the street lost in the pandemonium.
Carla gingerly grabbed at Georges trying to see what she could do to aid him.
Georges was struggling to stay coherent through amazing pain. "You mustn't tell anyone. I will recover from this. You.. mustn't.. tell."
Carla cried "Georges!
-*-
2171 - Paris
"And that is why." Carla said.
Georges looked at the chart Carla had displayed on the view screen. "You know, I understand little of this."
Carla nodded "There is sill much left to learn."
He turned. Carla's raven hair was shot through with gray. Her face held the finger print of a million smiles. Georges felt himself warm somewhere inside. She listened by God.
But did it matter in the long run?
There was no long run really, just today.
"I asked you not to." Georges said. "I meant it." he was sharp.
Time had left Carla with a fine appreciation of threats. "I did what I felt called to do Georges."
"I could make you disappear. I have done so before." Georges said.
"I'd anticipated as much. You must tell the others. I have taken precautions." Carla said
"What?"
"If I die or disappear, the information will be let out. Your secret will be at an end."
"I rarely talk to them, Carla. They have some stupid ideas."
"'There can only be one?' Yes, I have encountered this."
"They are stuck in an earlier time, a time of superstition and magic." Georges snarled.
"I prefer to withhold judgment until I talk to more of them." Carla said.
Georges looked sour. "I am proud of your work, Carla."
"Me too, among other things." Carla said.
"Oh?"
"Grandchildren. I have a birthday party this afternoon." Carla smiled
Georges smiled "Now I am truly proud of you."
"Would you like to come? There will be cake and balloons." Carla smirked.
Georges tried to recall the last time he was at a child's birthday party.
"I shall be honored."
-end-
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek. I claim original characters and situations in this story for me.
This story posted by permission of the author. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.