Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet (2 page)

River Heights High School was a
fairly large, yet unremarkable building bordered mostly by farmland and a few
quaint shops that catered to high school age clientele, providing the necessary
fast food, caffeinated drinks, and places to dilly-dally after school that most
teenagers on Earth had come to depend upon. 

After reasoning he’d be in more trouble if he skipped school
entirely than if he just showed up late, Jack had begun the long walk down
Detroit Street that eventually led to River Heights High.  Jack spotted the
large dirty-granite colored building in the distance, its school flags hanging
limply at its central flagpole.  First period would no doubt be wrapping up by
now. (Not that he cared, since he had Social Studies first period and was
always bored to tears there.)  But there was no way he’d be able to make it to
homeroom in time.

All students were required to check in at their homeroom
class after first period so attendance could be taken and announcements read. 
Normally, this wasn’t that big of a problem.  Freshman year, Jack had Ms. Deitz
for homeroom, and for some reason she was always more than willing to believe
Jack’s excuses and let him get away with practically anything.

Jack smiled at the thought of Ms. Deitz, with her large,
bulky dresses that would have looked better upholstering a couch than being
worn by any sane human being, and her black horn-rimmed glasses and
perpetually-permed hair.  How he wished he had her again.  She wouldn’t care if
he were late to homeroom and had missed first period entirely.

But that was before the dark times.  Before Mr. Shepherd had
arrived.

Jack’s first year at River Height’s High had been marked by
the retiring of a good number of the faculty, which meant this year had seen
the introduction of some new faces to the staff.  Not the least of which was
Jack’s current homeroom teacher and bane to his existence, the dreaded Mr.
Shepherd.

Shepherd had taken over the physical education position at
the school.  No one really knew all that much about him, and rumors had started
flying since his first appearance at the beginning of the school year.  Some
kids were convinced he used to be a Special Forces assassin for the military. 
Some theorized he might have been a prison guard for death row inmates.  Others
just thought the man was pure evil.  (Jack was certainly one who fell into that
category.)

Mr. Shepherd made it quite clear early on that he wasn’t
like most of the teachers at the school.  He wasn’t afraid to give detention
for the slightest infraction.  He demanded utter obedience from those in his
class.  And he had a piercing stare that would put the fear of God into even
the most rebellious of kids.

Most students simply counted the seconds until the end of
their classes with Shepherd, keeping their heads down and their mouths shut
until they were able to make their escapes.  And normally, if they did that, they
wouldn’t have any trouble from the man. 

Unfortunately, Jack never did that.

Since Jack had landed in Mr. Shepherd’s homeroom, he’d spent
almost three days a week, every week, in detention.  Whether it was coming to
school late, speaking out of turn, or just looking at the man funny, Jack
seemed always to be on the receiving end of Mr. Shepherd’s wrath.  Jack was
getting so much detention, it was almost becoming comical.

“What did Shepherd get you for this time?” his friends would
ask.

“Apparently I was born on an odd numbered year,” Jack would
reply wryly.

Indeed, the battle of wills between Jack and Shepherd had
been escalating as the school year progressed.  It would have been easy for
Jack just to change his ways and be the kind of student Shepherd wanted –
punctual, quiet, and obedient – and avoid the man’s attention all together. 
But Jack saw Shepherd as a bully, and Jack was never one to give into bullies,
even if they did have the power of detention on their side.  It was only a
matter of time before one of them broke, and for better or worse, Jack was
determined it wouldn’t be him.

When Jack arrived in homeroom, Principal Montgomery was
already halfway through the morning’s announcements.  Jack slipped in the door
while the disembodied voice over the intercom droned on about tomorrow’s
substitution on the lunch menu, and he worked his way toward his assigned desk
in the back of the room as nonchalantly as he could.

Mr. Shepherd sat at his desk by the chalkboard, scribbling
something in a notebook.  He hadn’t so much as glanced up when Jack came in. 
By now, Jack had learned not to be naive enough to think Shepherd hadn’t
noticed his entrance.  The man had eyes in the back of his head.

As Jack settled into his seat, he glanced over to the desk
next to him.  There sat the only part about homeroom he actually liked.  She
had long blonde hair, so bright that even the crappy fluorescent light in the
school seemed to dance off it.  Her eyes were a deep blue, so blue they almost
didn’t look real.  She had fair skin and a slender frame, but there was no
doubt about it – she was the most beautiful girl in all of River Heights, and
quite possibly the world.  (At least, in Jack’s opinion).

Her name was Anna.  Anna Shepherd.  And she was the daughter
of Jack’s arch-nemesis, which made things a lot more complicated than Jack
would have liked.

If little was known about Mr. Shepherd, even less was known
about his daughter.  River Heights High didn’t get a lot of students
transferring in from out of state, so there was naturally a lot of curiosity
about her.  However, early attempts from the established cliques of popular
girls to befriend her had gone unanswered, which immediately caused Anna to be blacklisted
by them as a stuck-up snob.  Normally, every jock and pretty-boy in school
would be tripping over himself to get a date with her, but the prospect of
incurring the wrath of Mr. Shepherd was too great a threat.

This meant that Anna Shepherd was usually left alone, and
she seemed to like it that way.

Every time Jack saw her, she was sitting by herself, her
pretty little up-turned nose buried in some type of book.  If there were one
thing that everyone knew for certain about Anna, it was that she apparently loved
to read.

Everything else was a mystery, though.  There were rumors
that she and her father had moved to River Heights from West Virginia after her
mother had died from some type of disease.  There were other rumors that Anna’s
mom was actually alive, but that Mr. Shepherd was in the middle of a divorce so
nasty that he had moved with Anna to get away from his wife. Some whispers even
went so far as to theorize they were in the witness protection program and had
come to River Heights to escape being killed by the mafia.

Jack didn’t know what to believe about her.  All he knew was
that she always seemed to be alone.  And Jack knew what it was like to be
alone.  Because of that, he felt there was no better match for her out there
than him.

That, and the fact that she was freakin’ hot.

Today Jack saw that she was reading a book about the
American Revolution.  He would always try to notice what book she was reading
in hopes of figuring out a way to talk to her.  But they were never fun books; in
fact, they always seemed to be history books of some type – nothing Jack knew
much about.  This made the whole “talking to her” strategy a bit difficult.

Jack had tried in vain a few times to engage Anna in
conversation.  He couldn’t do it in homeroom, since Mr. Shepherd would no doubt
get on his case for harassing his daughter. (After all, it wasn’t like the man
needed any more reason to hate Jack.)  And the few opportunities that came to
him at lunchtime in the cafeteria or between classes in the hallway usually devolved
into “Hey!” “Hi!” and the ever-popular “Wuz up?”  Anna’s usual response was
just to smile in acknowledgement and to go back to reading whatever book she
had her nose buried in at the time.

A normal guy would have taken the hint and moved on by now.  But
Jack felt in his gut that there was something there, some connection between
Anna and him, almost like they were destined to be together.  And, as
previously stated, she was freakin’ hot.

Because of that, Jack was
never
going to give up.

Suddenly, in the middle of Principal Montgomery talking
about a new dress code for the steadily approaching Homecoming Dance, Anna
looked up from her book and glanced over at Jack.

Jack’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked away,
trying to act like he hadn’t just been staring at her.  The worst part about
being caught staring at a girl is that he couldn’t look back at her again,
because then she’d know
for sure
he was staring at her, and that would
just make him seem creepy.  So Jack was forced to gaze at the back of Jamal Dugan’s
head until the bell for next period rang.

In a hurry to get out of the dreaded homeroom with Mr.
Shepherd, the students got to their feet in unison and rapidly made for the
door.

Jack grabbed his bookbag and was trying to slip away with
the crowd when a deep, forceful voice cut through the air.

“Mr. Finnegan, a moment.”

Jack sighed.  Today, there was no escape.  He turned and
approached Shepherd’s desk.  The man’s broad, muscular shoulders were hunched
over as he continued writing notes down in a notebook.  He was wearing a white
dress shirt with a red tie, but he was so muscular, he looked like he was about
to rip out of it at any moment.  His light blonde hair was cropped short to his
head, high and tight and meticulously groomed.  Everything about the man seemed
harsh and meticulous.

Jack waited for an agonizing 30 seconds as Mr. Shepherd
completed whatever it was he was writing.  Then, Shepherd carefully set his pen
down and looked up at Jack with his piercing grey eyes, folding his hands in
front of him.

“Mr. Finnegan,” he said sharply.  “You were late.”

“You sure about that?” asked Jack.  “ ‘Cause in Mountain
Time, I was totally early…”

“Are you making a joke, Mr. Finnegan?”

“No, sir,” said Jack.  “I would never make any attempt to amuse
you, sir.”

Shepherd grimaced.  “I’m told you missed first period, as
well.  Do you at least have an excuse for your tardiness?”

“Would you believe I got kicked in the face trying to rescue
a small child from a band of ninjas?” asked Jack, pointing to the small bruise
on his forehead.

“No,” replied Shepherd.

“Then it’s pretty much the same excuse as before.”

Shepherd grabbed a tidy pile of demerit slips from the
corner of his desk and quickly began to fill one out.  “If I were you,” he
said, “I would either invest in an alarm clock that worked, find an alternate
mode of transportation to school,” he sharply tore the demerit from the stack
and shoved it toward Jack, “or find a way to start enjoying my company.”

Jack took the slip, sullenly.  “C’mon, Mr. Shepherd, I just
missed the bus… it wasn’t even my fault this time.”

“And when has it ever been your fault, Mr. Finnegan?” asked
Shepherd.  “You are constantly late, you are disrespectful, and most of all,
you are making absolutely no attempt to change, which to me says, quite simply,
that you have yet to learn your lesson.”

Jack looked down at his feet.  There was never any arguing
with Mr. Shepherd.  The man was utterly without mercy.

“I believe you know when and where,” said Shepherd.

Jack nodded and sullenly walked out the door.

After a rather rocky start to the
day, Jack settled into his normal routine, though his mood did not improve much. 
Indeed, the simple fact was that Jack hated most of the time he spent in
school.  He hated most of the people he went to school with.  And he especially
hated most of the classes he had to attend.

His English teacher, Mrs. Hemmert, was pretty cool, but she
always seemed to assign the lamest, most boring books possible to read.  When
it came to math, Jack was beyond hopeless, and his wicked shrew of a math
teacher, Ms. Webster, didn’t make it any easier.  Mr. Shiering, who taught
history, spent the entire time telling the class amazing stories, which Jack
loved to listen to – but he’d always get so caught up in the tales spun by his
teacher, he’d forget to take notes.  Therefore, when it came time to actually
study for the tests, he’d be totally lost. 

Then there was study hall – normally a period where kids
were allowed to goof off, but since Jack had the unfortunate luck of being
assigned to Mr. Shepherd for study hall, it was pretty much an agonizing hour
of pure silence, where students either actually did their homework, or wasted
away the time doodling in a notebook (take a guess which one Jack tended to
do). 

It didn’t help that Jack also had Mr. Shepherd for Phys. Ed.
immediately after study hall, during which the man had his students go through
all types of rigorous sprints, pull-ups, jumping jacks, and anything else the
Nazi’s might have invented to torture high schoolers during World War II.  Gone
were the days of actually doing “fun” activities during gym class, ever since
the evil Mr. Shepherd had arrived. 

The one true highlight of Jack’s curriculum was, oddly
enough, his Physics class.

Normally, when it came to science, Jack had less interest
than anything else he was forced to take in school.  With all the
abbreviations, equations, formulas, and the like, science should have been
Jack’s worst subject.  Who’d have guessed that Physics would end up being the
one class Jack not only partially enjoyed but also seemed to be good at?

It wasn’t because Jack had any natural gift or talent for
science.  Oh, no.  In fact, Jack attributed his enjoyment, and subsequent skill
of the subject, entirely to his teacher, Professor Green.

Professor Green was relatively new to the school.  He’d
started teaching roughly the same time Jack had started attending River Heights
High.  He was a tall and lanky man, with a shock of uncombed white hair and an
equally unkempt beard of matching color.

He wore glasses that were always crooked but still somehow
managed to make his brown eyes look bigger than they actually were. His neck
was so long and thin in proportion to his head, Jack often thought he looked
like one of those bobble-heads that someone would typically put on the
dashboard of a car.  To complete his strange appearance, Professor Green always
wore his pants pulled up to around his chest, and he possessed a rather odd
affinity for bowties.

But aside from being, without a doubt, the oddest-looking
member of the River Height’s faculty, he also had a true passion for what he
taught and the rare talent for explaining the subject matter in a way that
actually made sense to Jack.

Of course, ever since he’d heard that Professor Green was
apparently friends with Mr. Shepherd and was actually responsible for helping
the man get his job at the school, Jack had found himself liking Professor
Green less than he had before.  But as he sat in class and watched the
Professor excitedly scribble on the chalkboard, rambling on about the day’s
lesson, he found it hard to stay upset with the guy.

Because despite it all, Professor Green was just too darn
likable.

“…so according to Newton’s second law of motion,” lectured
Green at a rapid-fire pace, “the acceleration of an object increases as the
force causing the acceleration increases. OR, for a given force, the smaller
the object – the faster its speed changes!”

Professor Green turned excitedly back to the class, looking
as though he expected them to share his passion for what he had just scribbled
on the chalkboard.  Instead what he saw were a lot of blank stares and
disinterest.

Green’s shoulders visibly slumped, and his smile turned
lopsided.  “Oh, dear,” he mumbled.  “I’m boring all of you, aren’t I?”

The students all looked at each other, unsure of how to
respond.  It wasn’t often that a teacher cared if his students were bored or
not. 

“It’s not your fault, Professor,” chimed in Jack, never
afraid to speak out of turn.  “Physics is just
boring
.  That’s all.”

Green raised an eyebrow.  “Is that so?” he asked.

“Yeah,” responded Jack.  “I mean, no offense, but who cares
about motion and vectors and gravity and all that stuff?”

A few of Jack’s fellow classmates nodded in agreement. 
Professor Green adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

“Well, then,” said Green, smiling.  “Let me ask you this –
do you think
alternate realities
are boring?”

“Alternate realities?” asked Jack.  “You mean like somewhere
out there, there’s a dimension where I’m a millionaire with a transparent head
and missile-launching kneecaps?”

A chuckle went through the class.  Green nodded.  “Exactly!”

Jack shrugged.  “No, that’s pretty cool,” he said.

“What about faster than light travel?” Green went on.  “Is
that boring?  Being able to go from one end of the galaxy to the other in a
matter of days instead of thousands of years?”

The entire class began to perk up.  Now the Professor was
talking.

“How about teleportation?  Is it boring to be able to go
from one place to another in the blink of an eye?  What of time travel?  Which
one of you wouldn’t want to visit the past?  Or the future?”

“No, all that is awesome,” said Jack.  “It’s just, that’s
the type of thing you see in movies and stuff.  It doesn’t really exist.”

“Wrong!” said Professor Green, pointing at Jack and
smiling.  “It
does
exist.  And it exists because of Physics – the very
stuff you’re learning about right here!”

All of a sudden, Jack found himself more interested in
Physics than he’d ever been in anything his entire life.  Indeed, more than a
few students were now leaning forward in their seats.

“Have any of you ever heard of the term
quantum physics
?”
asked the Professor.

No one answered.

“For the last hundred years, scientists have studied nature
at the most microscopic level.  This is what’s known as ‘quantum physics,’ and
it is the science of how teeny-tiny units of matter work to shape the very
fabric of our reality.”

Green could tell from the blank stares he was getting that he’d
have to be a little clearer with his explanations.

“You all know what ‘matter’ is, right?” said Green as he
rapped his knuckles on the chalkboard.  “You’re surrounded by it.  It’s
anything that’s solid.  The walls, the floor, your desks, your clothes – it’s
all considered to be matter. Yes?”

Everyone nodded.

“But what is matter made of?” asked Green.  “By now,
hopefully, you should all know that matter is just a collection of tiny little
things called atoms.  Do you all know what I’m talking about?”

The class nodded.

“Well, atoms are the building blocks of matter!  It’s how
they’re arranged that makes up different materials, everything from metal, to
plastic, to cloth – it’s all just a different arrangement of the same thing –
atoms.  But how do those atoms come to be arranged in such a way where they
create specific types of matter, like this chalkboard?  Or your desks?  Or your
chairs?”

No one raised a hand.

“Here’s where it gets interesting!” squealed the Professor
excitedly.  “According to quantum theory, atoms can exist in multiple places at
once!  So every atom exists in every possible location in the universe all at
the same time.  Think about that for a moment – there is no empty space, just a
bunch of atoms, everywhere, in a great, big, entangled mess!  This means that
there is an infinite combination of atoms existing everywhere, all at the same
time.  And that means all matter, every object you see around you, has the
potential to be anything else.  Your pants have the potential to be tomato
soup.  Your desks have the potential to be anthills.  Your sneakers have the
potential to be ice skates.  So matter has the potential to literally be
anything,
until
you make a measurement.  This is because the simple act
of measuring an atom chooses one of its many possibilities to become a reality. 
So until someone observes the atom as something, it could potentially be
anything!”

Jack raised his hand.  “I’m confused,” he said. 

“About which part?” asked Green.

“Uh… all of it.”

Green laughed.  “That’s not surprising, I suppose.  The key
thing to remember about quantum theory is that it is WEIRD.  That’s a technical
term we science-lovers like to use.  It means funky, counter-intuitive, mind-boggling. 
It’s confusing because our brains aren’t used to thinking about things in that
fashion.  But let me see if I can explain it in a different way. Reality – which
is everything we can see, hear, and touch – begins and ends with us.  Each and
every one of us is an observer, which means we are all constantly creating
measurements to which the atoms around us adhere.  Because of this, the
physical world we see around us is actually created by our own minds.  It is we,
the observers, who create the reality in which we live.  So those chairs you’re
sitting in aren’t chairs until you choose to see them as chairs.  Make sense?”

“So you’re saying that our brains tell atoms to turn into
different stuff, and they do it?” asked Jack.

“In a way,” said Green.  “Try to think of it like this – all
reality begins and ends in the mind of the observer.  The universe is nothing
more than the vivid imagination of our brains, which chooses to see certain
things but not others.  All the stuff we see around us is not determined by the
external world; it’s actually determined by us!  So it’s our minds that actually
choose to see only one possibility out of the infinite probabilities that
exist.  And by observing one of those possibilities, we make it true.  So all
matter – everything that could possibly exist – is already out there
somewhere.  It’s not until we choose to see it that it enters our reality.”

“Are you saying that our brains don’t tell atoms to turn
into stuff; they just choose to see one possibility that’s already there?”
clarified Jack.

“Yes!” exclaimed Green.  “Exactly!  So there’s a
probability
that you’re not actually sitting on a chair.  You’re sitting on a huge
mushroom.  But your brain chooses to see the
possibility
in which atoms
are arranged in such a way that make a chair, so that’s what it is.”

“Then why is it we choose to see chairs and not giant, comfy
mushrooms?”

The Professor shrugged.  “That’s one of the great questions,
isn’t it?  Why is our reality the way it is?  What dictates our observations?  Some
believe our subconscious mind is aware of every single possibility that could
exist, and it is not until our conscious mind makes an observation that one of
those possibilities is decided upon.  Why is it that we’ve all decided to see a
chair instead of a mushroom, considering all the other possibilities our
subconscious is aware of?  If one of us decides to see something else, would
that change how others see it?  Are we capable of literally changing reality,
simply with the power of our minds?  According to quantum theory, the answer to
that is ‘YES!’”

Green looked over his class as the wonder of possibility
began to worm its way into their brains.

“So what does that have to do with alternate realities and
all that other stuff?” asked Jack.

“Well, let’s do a little experiment, shall we?” said Green. 
“What’s behind you in the back of the room?”

The class, almost as one, turned and looked behind them.

“Nothing,” said Jack.  “Just a wall, a table, a few
microscopes…”

“Okay,” said Green.  “Now everyone look forward again.”

The kids all turned their attention back to the Professor.

“Now, without turning around again, tell me… what’s behind
you in the back of the room?”

“A wall, a table, and a few microscopes,” said Jack again.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know?”

“Because they were there just a second ago.”

“They were there when you
observed
them a second
ago.  But right now, when you’re not observing them, there could be anything
behind you.  Right now, your subconscious mind is aware of an infinite number
of possibilities that could exist in the back of the room.  It’s not until you
make the act of observing what’s back there, that you settle on one of those
possibilities, and the atoms are arranged to suit that choice.”

“So let me get this straight,” said Jack.  “Right now, in my
subconscious mind, there’s the possibility that a supermodel in a bikini is
chilling in the back of the room, and if my brain chooses to observe that
possibility, she’ll be back there?”

“Exactly,” smiled Professor Green.

At that moment, Jack, and every other boy in class, eagerly
turned around to take another look.  As expected, there was no supermodel, just
the same old microscopes there had been before.  A chuckle spread through the
class.

“Dang,” said Jack.  “I don’t think this quantum physics
stuff is working, Professor.”

More laughter.  Even Professor Green chuckled.  “That’s
where you’re wrong, Jack.  Quantum physics is always at work.  It’s we who
choose the reality in which we find ourselves.  And unfortunately, once we’ve
chosen a reality, it is very hard for us to perceive anything else.  But if you
were able to free your mind, and consciously choose to observe a
different
reality… to actually shape the world around you as you see fit… then anything
is possible.  Even the bikini model.”