The Kingdom of Fading Apparition
"Are you okay to drive?" you ask Nina.
"I'm fine," she says as she gets behind the wheel of her Blue Honda. "I only had, like, three beers." She starts the car and then accidentally presses the gas pedal, causing the car to jump forward. "Shit."
"Okay, I'm driving you home," you say.
"I'm not a lightweight," Nina says. "Don't tell the others."
"I won't," you say. "I promise."
"Thanks," she says and gets out of her car. You slide in and turn off the engine and turn on the parking brake. Then you guide Nina to your own car, an off-white truck you bought used a few years ago. It doesn't have air conditioning or a CD player, but it gets you places and that's all you need it for.
You think Nina is going to fall asleep as soon as you start driving, but she surprises you by staying awake and staring out the window. Perhaps the cold air is keeping her awake.
"What do you think is happening?" she finally asks.
"What?" you say.
"You know, with the stars," she says still staring out the window. "What's your theory."
"I don't know," you say.
"Bullshit," she says. "Everyone has a theory. And you, you know all this stuff about space. You must have a theory."
"Okay," you say. "It's stupid though."
"Can't be stupider than mine," she says. "Spill it."
"Fine," you say. "I think the universe is older than we think – much older. We're supposed to be in the Stelliferous Era, the era of star formation. But I think something sped up time for the universe, made it all go faster. There's this book by Robert Charles Wilson called Spin about how the Earth becomes surrounded by this membrane that blocks out the sky and causes time to move slower inside than outside. So everything outside the Earth is speeding along and decaying and becoming star remnants, while the Earth remains the same. I don't think it's exactly the same as that, but I think we're past the Degenerate Era now. We can't even see White Dwarfs or other remnants. We might be in the Black Hole Era or the Dark Era, nothing left but us."
Nina has stopped looking outside and is now looking at you. "That's the longest speech I've heard you say," she says.
"I don't like talking about it really," you say. "It depresses people."
Nina smiles. "You can't depress me," she says. "And you haven't asked me what my theory is yet."
"So what's your theory?" you ask.
"I think," she says, "that we're all in somebody's mind. We're a memory of a place called Earth. And this memory is fading. It's going away bit by bit. First it was the stars and then the world is going to slowly fade away like it was never there at all. We'll be able to walk down the street and watch everything we know disappear."
"Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats," you say.
"What?" Nina says.
"Nothing," you say. "Just a part of a poem I remember."
"So what did you think about my theory?" she asks. "Silly, right?"
"About a silly as my theory," you say. "And certainly as plausible."
She laughs and it's a harsh, brackish laughter, but you still enjoy hearing it.
Finally, you near her home and pull over to the side of the road. "Are you okay to walk from here?" you ask as you look around. The only light is from the one working streetlamp, but that's at the far end of the street and not much of its light is getting to where you are.
"I'm fine," Nina says and opens the door. "I told you I'm not a lightweight." She stumbles on her first step and you get out to help her. "I can make it," she says.
"I know," you say. "I would just feel better if I escorted you to your front door. You never know, there might be a band of criminals or ruffians around."
"Ruffians?" Nina says. "You're mocking me."
You raise your hand. "By my honor, I am not," you say. Nina laughs again and you smile. You link arms with her and help her walk towards her front door.
As you approach the front door, however, the last streetlamp goes out and you are plunged into darkness. You know where you are relative to the front door, but you can't see it anymore. You wish someone would turn on their house lights, but nobody does.
"What's going on?" Nina asks.
"It's okay," you say. "It's just right in front of us." You wonder if perhaps Nina was right and the memory is fading and everything around you has gone, leaving only you and Nina in a vast land of emptiness.
And then you see a light. There is someone holding a flashlight. And then another flashlight turns on and another one and suddenly you are surrounded by people. You raise your hand to your eyes to shield them. "Thank you," you say. "I was worried I wouldn't be able to find the door."
The people don't talk. You can't see their faces – all of the flashlights are pointed at you, none at them – and you get a sick feeling that these people don't mean to help you at all.
It's the last thought you have before you feel something hit the back of your head and darkness descends once again.
ay
"I'm fine," she says as she gets behind the wheel of her Blue Honda. "I only had, like, three beers." She starts the car and then accidentally presses the gas pedal, causing the car to jump forward. "Shit."
"Okay, I'm driving you home," you say.
"I'm not a lightweight," Nina says. "Don't tell the others."
"I won't," you say. "I promise."
"Thanks," she says and gets out of her car. You slide in and turn off the engine and turn on the parking brake. Then you guide Nina to your own car, an off-white truck you bought used a few years ago. It doesn't have air conditioning or a CD player, but it gets you places and that's all you need it for.
You think Nina is going to fall asleep as soon as you start driving, but she surprises you by staying awake and staring out the window. Perhaps the cold air is keeping her awake.
"What do you think is happening?" she finally asks.
"What?" you say.
"You know, with the stars," she says still staring out the window. "What's your theory."
"I don't know," you say.
"Bullshit," she says. "Everyone has a theory. And you, you know all this stuff about space. You must have a theory."
"Okay," you say. "It's stupid though."
"Can't be stupider than mine," she says. "Spill it."
"Fine," you say. "I think the universe is older than we think – much older. We're supposed to be in the Stelliferous Era, the era of star formation. But I think something sped up time for the universe, made it all go faster. There's this book by Robert Charles Wilson called Spin about how the Earth becomes surrounded by this membrane that blocks out the sky and causes time to move slower inside than outside. So everything outside the Earth is speeding along and decaying and becoming star remnants, while the Earth remains the same. I don't think it's exactly the same as that, but I think we're past the Degenerate Era now. We can't even see White Dwarfs or other remnants. We might be in the Black Hole Era or the Dark Era, nothing left but us."
Nina has stopped looking outside and is now looking at you. "That's the longest speech I've heard you say," she says.
"I don't like talking about it really," you say. "It depresses people."
Nina smiles. "You can't depress me," she says. "And you haven't asked me what my theory is yet."
"So what's your theory?" you ask.
"I think," she says, "that we're all in somebody's mind. We're a memory of a place called Earth. And this memory is fading. It's going away bit by bit. First it was the stars and then the world is going to slowly fade away like it was never there at all. We'll be able to walk down the street and watch everything we know disappear."
"Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats," you say.
"What?" Nina says.
"Nothing," you say. "Just a part of a poem I remember."
"So what did you think about my theory?" she asks. "Silly, right?"
"About a silly as my theory," you say. "And certainly as plausible."
She laughs and it's a harsh, brackish laughter, but you still enjoy hearing it.
Finally, you near her home and pull over to the side of the road. "Are you okay to walk from here?" you ask as you look around. The only light is from the one working streetlamp, but that's at the far end of the street and not much of its light is getting to where you are.
"I'm fine," Nina says and opens the door. "I told you I'm not a lightweight." She stumbles on her first step and you get out to help her. "I can make it," she says.
"I know," you say. "I would just feel better if I escorted you to your front door. You never know, there might be a band of criminals or ruffians around."
"Ruffians?" Nina says. "You're mocking me."
You raise your hand. "By my honor, I am not," you say. Nina laughs again and you smile. You link arms with her and help her walk towards her front door.
As you approach the front door, however, the last streetlamp goes out and you are plunged into darkness. You know where you are relative to the front door, but you can't see it anymore. You wish someone would turn on their house lights, but nobody does.
"What's going on?" Nina asks.
"It's okay," you say. "It's just right in front of us." You wonder if perhaps Nina was right and the memory is fading and everything around you has gone, leaving only you and Nina in a vast land of emptiness.
And then you see a light. There is someone holding a flashlight. And then another flashlight turns on and another one and suddenly you are surrounded by people. You raise your hand to your eyes to shield them. "Thank you," you say. "I was worried I wouldn't be able to find the door."
The people don't talk. You can't see their faces – all of the flashlights are pointed at you, none at them – and you get a sick feeling that these people don't mean to help you at all.
It's the last thought you have before you feel something hit the back of your head and darkness descends once again.
ay