Weird Vibrations

By Kfir Luzzatto

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"Commander! Commander!"

The soldier ran into the room where Commander Burpf was standing in front of a large control board. He was obviously worked up, since his ganglions were vibrating uncontrollably.

"Yes, yes," he uttered with impatience, without even looking at his subordinate. "What is it?"

"Comptroller Hrrump is here to see you, Commander," explained the soldier. "He demands to be allowed access to the laboratory," he added, almost in a whisper.

"So let him in. Let him in," ordered Commander Burpf, still without moving his gaze from the screen in front of him, where data was being elaborated - data of a nature that he was able to understand thanks to the excellent explanations of his project's scientist, Techno Warp.

Presently an officer of majestic aspect made his entrance into the room. It was Comptroller Hrrump, the highest officer of the pan-galactic expansion program, who reported directly to the Committee. His upper fur was combed to the back of his head, as befitting the dignity of his position, and he had donned a red and silver toga.

Commander Burpf turned toward him and saluted formally, making the required elaborated exercise with his respiratory extremities.

"Welcome, Comptroller Hrrump,' he said. "I am happy to see you here. I was expecting you."

"No, you aren't, and you weren't," retorted Hrrump. "I'll be blunt - and I beg you to excuse me for it - but clarity requires that I dispense with all niceties and get straight to the point."

"By all means, Comptroller," said Burpf, in a tone that could have been sarcastic, hadn't it been unthinkable to address a superior in such a fashion, "I won't have it any other way."

"Well, then, Burpf," continued Hrrump, "the Committee has got wind of what appears to be totally illegal activities on your part, with respect to the planet identified as Earth - in complete disregard of the Committee's directives."

"How so, Comptroller?" asked Burpf with overt annoyance.

"I'll tell you how," said Hrrump, superciliously. "You know very well that our galactic expansion rules forbid any form of colonization of a planet, if its population has a quotient of intelligence above R.A. - the Recognized Average for developing planets."

Hrrump was growing excited while speaking and started to pace the room and to gesticulate.

"This rule," he continued, "was not made for nothing. No, sir. It was made wisely to avoid the dangers arising from an attempt to take over a planet, which is too advanced. But you, Burpf," Hrrump threw accusingly at him, "you have chosen to ignore this rule. You have taken it upon yourself to bend it. Deny it, if you can."

"I can and I will, Comptroller," retorted Burpf. "I have bent no rules, and I operate strictly according to the regulations issued by the Committee."

"Ha!" said Hrrump, mockingly.

"What do you mean, 'Ha'?" asked Burpf, sounding outraged.

"I mean 'Ha'! Everybody in the galactic expansion project knows that you had set your heart on colonizing this planet Earth. And we all appreciated the measure of your disappointment when the survey came in, showing that the average quotient of intelligence of its inhabitants was far above the R.A. limit."

"Not far above," corrected Burpf quietly, "a mere five points."

"Five points or half a point is not the issue," retorted Hrrump. "What matters is that it is above the limit, and therefore your orders say to leave it alone."

"Not if I can show that it will go well below that limit in the near future."

"A fat chance you have, of showing it," said Hrrump derisively. "All the statistics indicate that the average quotient always increases with time."

"Ah, but this time I have found a way of helping it go down," said Burpf smugly.

"What do you mean," asked Hrrump in surprise.

"I mean that with the help of one of our best scientists, Techno Warp here," said Burpf, "we were able to institute the Program for the Reduction of Alien Potential, which will eventually lower the quotient of intelligence of the inhabitants of Earth well below the limit."

Techno Warp acknowledged that he was becoming a part of the conversation by turning and getting up graciously.

"Tell me more," said Hrrump.

"The inhabitants of this planet," explained Warp, "are quite peculiar. We have discovered that when they are exposed to vibrations of a given frequency for sufficiently long periods of time, a marked decrease in their individual quotient of intelligence is detected. By applying this method to a large proportion of the population," he continued didactically, "of course, we will eventually achieve a reduction in the average quotient."

"Hmm," mused Hrrump, "you are aware of the reservations the Committee has on using certain methods on civil populations..."

"Wait," intervened Burpf, "you haven't heard the best part yet."

"Yes," continued Warp quickly, "the interesting part is that the earthlings are doing it to themselves."

"I don't believe it!" exclaimed Hrrump. "What kind of race would do a thing like this to itself?"

"Well, that's what these Earth people are doing," said Burpf. "We are merely helping them to spread it quickly, so that we can obtain a reduction of the alien potential in a speedier way."

"This is very peculiar," said Hrrump, still unconvinced.

"Yes," said Burpf, "we know that it's quite surprising, and therefore we have prepared a demonstration for you. Warp," he ordered, turning to the scientist, "turn it on."

Warp fumbled with a dial on the control panel, and suddenly a hideous sound filled the room. Taken by surprise, Hrrump shut down his hearing channels, then opened them slowly again.

"This is awful!" he exclaimed. "Are you sure that you are not exceeding the allowed galactic standard of cruelty? I can't believe that any creature can stand this."

"Well, Comptroller," said Burpf, "to be absolutely truthful, the elder specimens we tested at the beginning couldn't stand it and we had to sacrifice them. At that time, we considered abandoning the project. Luckily," he explained, "due to the perseverance of Warp, we surprisingly discovered that the younger earthlings relish those vibrations. Explain, Warp."

"It sounds crazy, I know," he said to Hrrump who had turned to him, "but the young earthlings actually work and spend money to help our agents - the ones dispensing the vibrations - to penetrate all channels of communication and to spread them. They appear to be addicted to this dangerous exposure that will, ultimately, bring them their own doom. And our agents - they are entirely unaware that they are helping us. It is all a subliminal thing. They are made to believe that they are actually purveyors of enjoyment for the young earthlings."

"They call this music," said Burpf, jokingly.

"Ha-ha," reacted Hrrump, politely.

"It's a perfect situation," continued Warp, "since in this way our operations and involvement can never come to the attention of the earthlings."

"Amazing," commented Hrrump, who had started to pace the room again, this time in excitement.

"Yes," continued Warp. "So all we have to do is help our agents to operate. They do so via particularly primitive means of broadcasting, as well as by distributing the vibrations through simple optical mass-storage means."

"You see, Comptroller?" said Burpf with excitement, "We only need to sit back and wait. Once the older earthlings die out, and since the younger ones reduce their quotient of intelligence daily, our work is done. In a very short period of time - less than thirty Earth years, the quotient of intelligence will be well below the Recognized Average, and we will be able to colonize the planet with no effort at all."

"Impressive, Commander. Very impressive," said Hrrump warmly. "I will issue a positive report to the Committee. A very positive report on this project of yours ... How is it called?"

"It's called RAP - Reduction of Alien Potential. And our agents are named RAPPERS, after it. Please include that in the report. They deserve much credit. Let me accompany you, Comptroller," added Burpf, graciously, and ushered him out of the room.

When he returned a few minutes later, he found a very satisfied Warp waiting for him.

"We were good, weren't we?" he said.

"Absolutely," answered Burpf with satisfaction. "We have turned him into a supporter, and I don't think we will hear from him for a long time now."

"Is he gone already?" asked Warp.

"Yes. He's gone," Burpf reassured him.

"All right! Then we can listen to the music in peace." Burpf sat beside him, while Warf fumbled with the dials. "I just discovered a new Rapper - you won't believe the kind of music he makes..."

"Turn it on, turn it on," said Burpf in excitement. "I have locked the door."

A sound filled the room. It went 'Chaka-chaka-cahaka - tum. Chaka-chaka-cahaka - tum.' A raucous earthling voice followed it, reciting a litany consisting of a meaningless series of earthling words.

Warp and Burpf sat there, enraptured. Life on the Project was beautiful, indeed, and they intended to enjoy it in full.

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Kfir Luzzatto was born in Italy. He works as a patent attorney and lives in Israel. His novel, "Crossing the Meadow", was voted "Best Horror Novel" in the 2003 P&E Readers Poll. He also publishes short fiction (mostly serious stuff but always with funny bits in it) and serves on the editorial board of The Harrow. He has written "Weird Vibrations" during a trip to Portugal, in a desperate (and futile) attempt to preserve his sanity when cooped up in a crammed boat on the Duoro River with his four children and an unlimited supply of EMINEM's CDs.