The revisionists, p.4
The Revisionists, page 4
"I figured it would be a clock tower and a high powered rifle for ol' Cal. He was always wound so tight, I figured he'd just snap. Either kill himself or a bunch of other people and then himself."
She elbowed him. "That is insanely dark and pessimistic."
"I guess that's me," he said. "You really thought he'd do all of this? I mean, we all worked hard."
"Cal worked harder," she said. "He had a scholarship to keep, but what you thought of as being wound up tight, was just determination. Yeah, he had a lot to prove and he was a little weird, but so what. We all were a little weird. Right?"
"Yeah, I was ostracized by my classmates starting in fourth grade," Justin said. "I started fucking up the bell curve, you know? Kids wanted me to cheat for them, write their papers, sit next to me for tests. I was transferred to a school for gifted kids right after and it was a fucking nightmare."
"We all have similar stories," she said and dipped her hair into the water.
"Jesus, you look good, Kris," Justin said.
"Don't even start going down this road," she said. "You're going to start asking why we never became a thing. What's the point?"
"We had one night."
"And that was good enough."
"Was it?" he asked.
"I always thought so," she said.
"I'm glad you did."
"You always wanted more, Justin. You were never satisfied."
"I was tired that night. I could have gone longer or more often."
She put a finger on his lips. "Shh. Enough. This isn't some sex romp in the tropics. This is something else."
"You're no fun," he teased. "Anything can be turned into a sex romp if you're in the right frame of mind."
He pushed himself away and leaned against the back of the hot tub.
"Why do you think he'd call on us now, though?" he asked. "I mean, why not bring us in on the ground floor back when he was inventing new phones and computer systems? Why now?"
Kristin stretched out her legs. "No clue. He always had that inferiority complex, though, right? I mean, look at all of this. If his house and that helicopter ride and the fact we're on a private fucking island isn't some kind of proof of concept, I don't know what is. He wanted to impress us."
"Do you think he knew all along that he would get here?" Justin cast his eyes around the room. Then he turned to look out the window at the tropical trees outside. "Was he so calculating?"
"Probably. As I said, smarter than the rest of us put together. He may not have had all of the ideas down yet, but I bet he knew something about the internet. I bet he knew computers would eventually fit in our hands. I think he had an idea that our entire lives would end up being digital. Remember the things he said right before graduation? About technology coming up soon."
Justin nodded.
"He did always like fiddling with his gadgets," Justin confirmed and he laid his head back and closed his eyes. "I could get used to this, though. I have to say. If he wanted me to stay here, I'd probably just sign right up."
Kristin moved closer to him. She had no interest in the sex romp thing, but it was hard to resist him. "Would you want me here, too?"
Justin smiled, his eyes still closed. "Of course."
"Well, then I guess I'd sign up, too."
***
Max sat in his room and stared out the window at nothing in particular. He wanted to feel what the others were feeling. He could tell they were excited, anxious to see what great new thing Cal Trove wanted to bring to the world and why he wanted them along. Max, however, was unable to muster any sort of enthusiasm.
It had been that way for a while. Since David died.
He looked down at the photo. David and he had taken a tropical vacation just a year ago. The photo was of them on the beach, smiling, shirtless, wearing sunglasses against the glare, David's hand outstretched to take the photo. They were happy and had plans to stay that way.
Then came the accident. The car crash. The sound of screeching tires, breaking glass and screaming metal.
Max had been driving.
The scene played out in his head again for the billionth time that week alone. They had been alone on the dark, twisting, highway. Over to the left was the ocean. To the right the face of a mountain. The road wound like a tiny ribbon through the range. It had been another quick trip, up the coast. Just to find a bed and breakfast, maybe, somewhere up north.
Then the car was out of his control. Over to the right.
Smash.
The photo was wrinkled and folded. He had printed it on photo-quality paper, but his constant handling of the thing had worn it out.
He felt his tears well up again and stuffed them down. No more of that, he thought. He finally blinked and looked around the room. It was gorgeous.
What the hell was he doing here?
It was the fiftieth time he wondered about that. Why was he here at all? Why was he still alive? He had considered killing himself a dozen time since David died.
There was something inside of him that wanted to see what this was all about. He was no fan of Cal Trove. The little shit had seen through his bravado and lady-killer attitude in college. He had lain many women during his day, but never really felt anything for it. Cal saw it. He saw it right away and called him on it.
For his effort, he had threatened Cal and was sincerely ready to beat the shit out of him if he brought it up again. They had rarely spoken after and he always gave the little fucker dirty looks. Cal shrank from him, barely spoke to him and he was shocked when the invitation to be here this weekend came through.
What was it about?
Cal had always talked about changing things. He felt that he could develop technology that would change the way people thought. He remembered Cal always going on about the injustices in the world and he was a first-class conspiracy theorist about most things. There was always a shadowy force behind everything. He went on and on about the groups secretly controlling the world and he was going to find a way to expose them, or find a way to become part of them.
It was all insanity, but now here they were. Cal was the richest man in the fucking world and here they were. All of them so much the same, yet so different.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, though. Even when he first got the invite, he immediately made a few phone calls to people who had a way to gain access to things no one should have access to. The guy gave him a file three days before he was scheduled to leave for the trip and he spent part of his time on the flight to Florida looking through it.
It made little sense to him.
Something about alternate realities and Schrodinger's Cat.
None of that made any fucking sense and he assumed it was all theoretical shit. Even Cal hadn't gotten so far in the world and science he could prove alternate realities.
Right?
No, the thing worrying him the most was the evidence his guy found showing that all of the phones, technology and websites Trove Industries created and more than half the world used, was using people just as much. Facial recognition. Recording preferences. Jotting down thoughts. Recording things no one knew was being recorded.
Cal was Big Brother.
That was what worried Max.
"What is he up to, David?" he asked the photo. Of course, there was no answer.
***
Around 6 pm, they all began showing up in the dining room. Madisun felt like she had a huge smile on her face and she figured everyone would know that she and Russell had been having intense sex for most of the afternoon. It was like something was in the air in this place and they had romped around like teenagers. Weird, since it wasn't entirely normal for them, but also immensely satisfying and fun.
They apparently all decided, each on their own, to dress up at least a little bit formally for dinner. Madisun put on her dress (the fanciest one she felt she could pack), Russell a suit coat and nice shirt, and they headed downstairs. Once there, they saw Max, Justin and Kristin were also dressed up. Martinis were already poured and there were two ready for them.
"I guess we all got the note about dressing up," Madisun said as she grabbed her glass and took a sip. Instantly she knew Justin had made the drinks because they were strong. "Apparently we all still share the same brain."
Justin laughed. "Yep. Just a few minutes together and already we have entered the realm of group-think."
"Funny you should mention that, Justin."
All of them turned at once to look at where the voice came from. Cal Trove stood at the top of the short flight of stairs leading into the dining room. He was dressed about as fancy as he ever seemed to get. This meant he threw on a suit coat over a black T-shirt and jeans. On the few occasions he was photographed in public, this was often what he was seen wearing. In one article where the reporter was given actual access to Cal, Madisun remembered she had read Cal only had dozens of different version of the same outfit. Apparently, it was something brilliant people did so they spent as little time as possible on choosing what to wear or something like that. She knew, in her heart of hearts, Cal was lazy and had, in college, worn the same clothes until they stank. Now that he was rich, he could at least keep doing so and not stink.
"Hey!" Justin cried out. "There's the man of the hour! Welcome home, Cal. I gotta say, I am loving this house and you have top-notch booze."
Cal laughed and descended the stairs. "Thank you, Justin. I'm glad you could all make it. We have a lot of exciting things to talk about."
Madisun and Russell took their seats while Cal took one at the head of the table, still looking as small and skinny as he did in college. Except now he had his hair trimmed close to the skull and just enough of a hint of five o'clock shadow for some women to find him sexy. He had also changed out the thick plastic-framed glasses he wore back when they first met to thin, round, wire-framed glasses perched on his long nose.
"So, Cal, what are we here for?" Madisun asked right away, sipping her martini again. "Are you gonna fill us in or keep us hangin' on."
Cal smiled. "I'm going going to stretch out the drama a bit, guys. I have a spectacular meal prepared here and the finest wine and beverages ready for you. Let's catch up on things and enjoy all of that and then we can talk business."
Justin and Max opened their mouths to protest and Cal held up a hand.
"I know you all want information about what’s going on," he said. "I get it. But let's eat first. I haven't talked to most of you since we graduated. I know a little bit about what's going on with you because of social media, but let's actually talk. Remember how we used to do that? Those late night dinners at Denny's in college? Before the internet and social media?"
Cal pushed a button on his phone and suddenly doors opened at the far end of the dining room. Men in white coats poured in with trays of food and decanters filled with wine. Before Madisun could say another word, soup and salad were in front of her and wine was in the glass. Cal proposed a toast and Justin seconded it.
Soon, as the wine and beverages continued to flow and the appetizers, salad and soup were replaced with prime rib, potatoes, veggies and rice, the stories began to flow, too.
Max relayed what he had been doing since college. He moved out to California, came out of the closet not long after, and moved into the world of streaming media. He made an investment in some technology that would shift the business model from a company specializing in mailing DVDs to homes, to a streaming service producing original programming. He was very involved in finding talent, developing shows and securing the money needed to produce them. He was very focused on the streaming world, but when you broke it down, he was one of the most prolific producers in Hollywood. Those on the inside of show business knew it, but outside Hollyweird, not many did.
Justin graduated and immediately moved out of the technology world and into marketing. He seemed to have an innate knack for figuring out SEO and which words people would search for on nearly any topic. This caused him to start his own company, work for a bunch of other companies of all sizes, but somehow really found a home working for a multi-national pest control company. He was now running a department with a half-dozen people working for him and doing quite well.
Kristin explained that even when she was at the Institute, she always loved to design and draw things. Her father was the one who felt doing it as a career was a waste of her talent. When she graduated, the best thing in the world happened because her father keeled over from a massive heart attack. Not two weeks after she opened her own business, had clients weeks later, a lot more than she could handle on her own within six months and then a staff of 27 people depending on her success two years after that.
Russell had a similar story, but being an architect at least allowed him to use his math skills to some degree. However, designing things he could eventually point to as something he had created from designs out of his own head was too much of a rush to give up. He went into the Institute thinking he would work at NASA and came out wondering what he really wanted to do. The space race thing was dying down and he no longer wanted to explore the universe. He wanted to do something for himself and this led to an argument with his father. Eventually, after several huge clients and years of successful buildings featured in magazines and on television, his father had come around.
Madisun explained writing was something she had been doing since third grade. It was always short stories and poems. When she graduated and looked around for something to do while also looking for a job, she started writing a story about a woman looking for something to do with her life. This lead to her getting involved with dangerous people and then became her first thriller, The Waiting Game, which was eventually made into a movie. Her second novel, Wish List, was an even bigger hit and got her back in touch with Max who bought the rights for his streaming service where it became another smashing success.
Just as Madisun was finishing up her tale of life after college, the dessert came. Ice cream in a wide variety of flavors and dozens of toppings. It was fantastic. She wrapped up her stories just as the sound of spoons hitting bowls filled the air.
"So, there's everyone else's stories, Cal," Justin said, licking his spoon as if his life depended on it. "I guess we know what you've been up to. We just never get to see you like we are now. So, want to just tell us what we're doing here?"
Cal had sat there listening for hours. He had barely spoken the entire time and Madisun had watched him while the others talked. He smiled. He laughed, but his face was flushed and he appeared a bit agitated or eager. He bounced in his seat and fidgeted with his silverware.
"I can tell you're dying to tell us what's going on," Madisun said. "You did your best to hold your tongue and at least pretend you were listening to us, but I could tell you want to talk to us."
Cal looked at her with a weird expression she remembered from the college. It was a look that sort of said "Oh, Madisun, you fool" mixed with a "well, you caught me.” She always had a knack for figuring him out before the rest of the group. He would speak over their heads most of the time, but she always cut through the bullshit and saw what he was driving for. It was probably one of the reasons he always had a soft spot for her.
"You always did see right through me, Mads," Cal said. "Yeah, I guess most of you guys have seen the news stories about me. I was working on making computers more useful for people even before we graduated and had inklings about the Internet, too. I mean, there were already online bulletin boards and things and it was just a matter of time before something came along to really make it real for everyone. I was investing with what little money I had almost from the first day. Those all paid off and, well, here I am."
He paused and looked around. No one spoke. The dessert cups were empty and set aside. The coffee cups were full and steaming, but no one drank. All of them leaned forward waiting.
"If you don't start talking you son of a bitch, I swear to God," Justin said and winked.
Cal laughed. "OK, OK, enough dragging this out. Bring your drinks or coffee. Let's go into the living room so I can use the big screen. I know, I know, you guys think I'm going to sell you timeshares or Amway or some shit, but it's much better."
They stood up and grabbed coffee. Madisun cast a glance at Russell and he shrugged. She looked over at Justin and he rolled his eyes. Cal was being dramatic. As always.
They gathered around the U of couches and Madisun took a seat with her back to the window overlooking the ocean. The sky was dark now and the amount of stars visible up above them was like nothing she had seen before. She looked to try and find the constellations she knew, but none of them were evident, but she was very out of practice when it came to astronomy.
"Thanks for coming guys," Cal said and grabbed a remote. The screen lit up and it was obvious a PowerPoint presentation was ready for them. "Sorry for the PowerPoint. Hardly high-tech, but it's still the fastest and easiest way to do this."
He clicked a button and a title page came up.
REVISION: USING COLLECTIVE THOUGHT TO CHANGE THE REAL WORLD.
Justin snorted laughter. Kristin looked confused. Max remained stoic, his arms crossed. Madisun was confused, too, but she had a knack for hiding it. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably and Russell put an arm around her shoulders. She looked back at him and saw he was clenching his jaw, which was the indication he was nervous about this, too, and worrying this had all been a waste of time. Perhaps he even worried they were in the presence, on an island, with a madman.
"Now, I know you already think ol' Cal here has gone off the deep end by that title alone, but give me a chance," Cal said, holding up a hand to stave off the stares. "Let me start out by asking you a question. What do you know about the theory of collective unconscious?"
Justin sighed. "OK, I'll play along. Sure. Collective unconscious is the name given to a theory by Carl Jung. It says there are a series of thoughts, ideas, morals and structures shared between people or animals of the same species. They are not even necessarily aware of it, but they all live by it. Humans have one, dogs another. There is also the idea of a collective consciousness, which is basically culture. People of the same country share the same basic ideas and values. There’s a certain collective consciousness in France, and another in America. Freedom and guns, baby!"
