Subject 227

I knew it was her when she walked into the coffee house by the description my friend had given me; plump but not fat, long graying black hair worn in a bun, neither young nor old, pretty in an odd way. Evidently she recognized me as well. She sat opposite me, smiling with a touch of irony. We introduced ourselves. Neither of us were uncomfortable or self conscious. She in particular was poised and alert. Her brown eyes darted this way and that taking in her surroundings, which included myself, betraying nothing but mild interest and innate intelligence. There was clamor all about us. The air smelled of coffee and sweets. I was somewhat amused.

We spoke of our mutual friends who had arranged this little adventure. Yes, Ted was at times uproariously funny. Yes, Clara was quite the gossip. We each discovered where the other was from, parents and siblings, marital status and the usual banalities shared between strangers at first meeting, then we lapsed into a not uncomfortable silence. She suggested a walk in the park across the way and I agreed.

We were close to the coast so the breezes were delightfully balmy as we strolled along past squealing children and adolescent couples strewn about on blankets embroiled in hormonal seriousness. Late summer was turning into autumn. We walked in silence. I wondered if I should take her hand. I took a step and felt something wriggle beneath my foot. Looking down I discovered a brown lizard whose back I had broken. It was piteously squirming about using only its front legs. I glanced at her face expecting a look of horror or disgust but discovered only curiosity. I stepped hard upon the creature’s head ending it’s misery and futile struggle. She smiled slightly at me, expressing her approval I assumed.

We again walked in silence for a bit, then she asked me if I believed in God. I admitted that I did not but that I envied those who did, for they were full of hope denied the unbeliever. I in turn asked her the same question, to which she replied that the belief in the supernatural was a vestige of human development not unlike a prehensile tail or the appendix. It was something humanity had outgrown, an echo of a lesser civilization that could not come to terms with the knowledge of the death of the individual. She said that unbelief was a positive evolution of the human mind and of human civilization. I remarked that even though I agreed with her that it was sad when our comfortable illusions died and were replaced with nothing. To that she did not reply.

Eventually we found ourselves again where we began, at the coffee house. Night was falling and the cars on the street beside us had switched on their headlights. The woman had piqued my interest. I noticed her skin and her form and her perfume. Somehow she neither met nor avoided my gaze. I asked if we could meet again. “No” was all she said. Then she took her leave.

*

I saw the subject as soon as I entered. He was a man of middle age who had obviously once been athletic but had since been given to portliness. His hair was still abundant and gray at the temples. Upon his face he wore a beard of white. His attitude was pleasant and his eyes were lively. He at once seemed humble and enormously pleased with himself. He was dressed like a tradesman with blue jeans and collared flannel shirt. He caught my eye and invited me to join him.

As has been previously noted my conversational skills are barely adequate, but he seemed not to take notice. Our words were thankfully few and simple. Perhaps because of his age he didn’t exhibit the nervousness and anxiety common to other subjects in similar situations. Nor did he express any idiotic attempts at seductiveness that are so common to the male of his species. He was attentive but not obnoxiously so. He was pleasant but not obsequious. Over all he was an interesting representative of his race.

We endured the mandatory pleasantries required in such situations with a minimum of fuss. Soon the stench of what the humans refer to as “coffee” began to overwhelm me and I suggested we walk in a nearby nature preserve, to which he readily agreed. His gait seemed somewhat slowed by age but he managed well enough. The “park” we were in was absolutely lovely. This planet is breathtaking in it’s beauty when not marred by the works of man, whose fate it is our duty to decide. Their bodies are so like ours but their thinking and actions so bestial. It amazes me they haven’t made our decision for us by now.

As we walked an interesting incident occurred. The subject trod upon a reptile of some kind and his face registered a kind of horror and regret. He watched as the creature struggled and I could see that he pitied it. He then ended it’s life, an obvious act of kindness. It so reminded me of our mission on this planet. It must be noted that this race does not instinctively despise the creatures it deems beneath it and in fact can exhibit a sort of retarded empathy at times, no matter how abhorrent their actions seem in the aggregate.

I turned the conversation toward human superstition and discovered the subject had considered it in depth. Although he was still wistful and sentimental about what they call “religion” his final verdict on it was frankly more enlightened than I had supposed. However, his attitude was almost like an infant’s who still yearned for the womb. In short, his opinions on the subject reflect the general consensus of the more thoughtful members of his race.

Observation of said subject ended where it began, at the foul smelling coffee establishment when the subject became somewhat amorous.

I hope the members of the committee have found this report useful.