EPISODE 4

“The Phoenix and the Cuckold”

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

DOV:

Welcome back to Kandel Against the Dark. I am your host, Dov Kandel.

We are here tonight with longtime friend of the show, Orson Libretti. He has brought us something very special tonight, and I am very excited to share with you. If you are just joining us, let me give you a quick recap where we are. Orson is a retired Major in the US Army. He served for 16 years. He then went on to do a great deal of consulting work for the US government and other organizations. He has written a novel called “Consummation” that is based on a series of tapes that he has brought to share with us tonight that he believes are from an alternate reality, and his evidence for this is compelling.

These tapes were discovered in a crater on a farm in Nebraska, alongside a charred body that we believe to be that of Jack, the narrator of the tapes. Orson was brought in as part of a multi-disciplinary investigation. Orson, being there as a expert in both, mechanical and electrical engineering. He investigated the technology itself of the cassettes, which is different than anything we have. It...it required quite a bit of doing, I understand, to convert these tapes into something that we can listen to on the technology that we have.

The tapes are essentially a kind of last will and testament, a personal testimonial from this person, Jack, that tell a story that seems to be leading towards an apocalypse in in the world that he hails from. There is discussion of, a kind of object, a technology he refers to as Mater Nodes, which seem to have a connection to the user's desire centers. He talks extensively about his relationship with his wife, ‘Scilla, their inability to have a child -- which is a traumatic experience for them. There are people influencing their marriage, encroaching upon their marriage, and leading potentially to some acts of violence on Jack's behalf.

When last we left Jack, he had spoken the word enough to ‘Scilla, his wife. They seem to be giving up on -- or at least he seemed to be giving up on -- the journey towards trying to have a child. And, we'll see... We'll see where that story unfolds. Orson, thank you again for being with us.

ORSON:

Thank you very much for having me, umm...

DOV:

Where do we go from here?

ORSON:

So, the next portion -- I'll just set it up a little bit here -- so, Jack, as you said, has said “enough”. Uh, they've gone through all medical community could do for them, the alternative medicine community, different religions, finally turning to a sigilmancer, who...umm...Jack had very good reason to believe had designs on his...his wife.

DOV:

And Jack, It appears, came to realize that they really were scraping the bottom of the barrel --

ORSON:

Yes.

DOV:

-- in terms of options.

ORSON:

Yes. So, he says enough. And there's this knowledge both with him and with ‘Scilla, that they couldn't continue to go on like this.

So, right before this...this next section I'll play, Jack gives ’Scilla a few days, and then he -- very gently -- brings up the idea of adoption. And, I don't get the sense that there was an argument or anything, but ‘Scilla appeared to be very firm on the idea that she was not interested in that. She wanted a child of her own. And because of that, this depression, this grief that she'd been undergoing takes a turn at this point, because all avenues appear to have been exhausted. And that's where we're picking up on the story. So let's, uh, let's let Jack tell us a bit more.

DOV:

Okay.

[TAPE CLICK]

JACK:

So with that, we had come to the end of all possible solutions. And after that, the cloud over our household just got darker. ‘Scilla had stopped eating, she had stopped talking, she had -- for the most part -- stopped getting out of bed, despite the fact that she was barely sleeping. She would just lie in our room, alternating between sobbing fits and near catatonic stares.

And with that as our daily life, I wasn't doing much better. I had suddenly found myself, yet again, feeling something completely new to me. I was feeling a depression of my own. And like I said, I had spent eight years living only for my wife's happiness. I had dedicated my life to her comfort and satisfaction, and now that was impossible. There was absolutely nothing I could do to provide her with what she so desperately needed. There was nothing anyone could do.

You know, I said before that ‘Scilla needed a partner in her new hell, and I guess I had finally found my way there. We were there for different reasons, but we were certainly in it together. Her pain broke me. For weeks on end, I felt her sobs in the core of my body. They grew like tumors in my abdomen. They squeezed the breath from my lungs and I felt powerless. Still, I remained diligent and focused on her care. I mustered whatever energy I could to keep the house clean, to cook her meals that went mostly uneaten, and to cajole her into the bathtub so I could bathe her malnourished body -- the body she now saw as her mortal enemy.

And it was around this time that I realized that my purpose in life had evolved yet again. I had made ‘Scilla my wife. I had done everything in my power to make and keep her happy. And now my only job was to simply keep her alive. And I wasn't entirely sure I'd be able to do it. But then a few months into our battle, something finally gave.

I woke up in the morning to find ‘Scilla missing from her side of the bed -- and this is something that hadn't happened since the beginning, so I was immediately concerned. But when I made my way out to the family room to look for her, I was surprised by the smell of coffee and food.

I found her in the kitchen, fully clothed, makeup applied and hair done. She had gotten up early to make us both breakfast. And her demeanor had completely shifted. She seemed focused and upbeat, almost perky. It was like that cloud had finally rained itself out and just evaporated. It was that sudden. The night before, I had listened to her cry herself to sleep, and now, only hours later, she was smiling and frying eggs.

And as happy as it made me to see her that way, I couldn't help but feel suspicious of this abrupt turn around. But when I asked her what was going on, she told me she had woken up feeling a renewed sense of drive in her life. You know, the way she told it, it had suddenly occurred to her that there was just no changing her biological reality, and she could either rediscover a sense of purpose or die. Ya know, it was that simple in her mind.

And as it turns out, her new sense of purpose wasn't really all that new at all but more of a simple, comfortable return to an old one. ‘Scilla had always been career-driven, and now she was saying she wanted to embrace that again. She wanted to find her way back to the way she felt before everything had gone so horribly wrong. So, after all of those months, she finally wanted what I wanted: for things to just go back to normal. Or at least that's what I thought she wanted. And for what it's worth, I think in that moment she really believed that's what she wanted too.

Ya know, looking at it now, her dramatic shift seems more like a manic high than a recovery, but at the time, I wasn't going to discourage her desire to find her footing in life again. I wasn't going to pathologize her rediscovered happiness. I was just going to encourage it and hope for the best.

She returned to work that day and immediately set her sights on climbing the corporate ladder. She wanted to leave air behind and secure a higher level executive position, and despite her long absence, her stellar track record served her well. The idea was greeted with enthusiasm by upper management and it wasn't long before she was promoted to VP of Market Research. I mean, it meant more hours and a heavier workload, but that seemed to be exactly what she needed -- something that she could throw herself into headlong. And for a while, things actually did finally return to a kind of normal. And with them, so did I.

But that stasis didn't last.

It was actually Reinhardt who first tipped me off. And honestly, it's a little embarrassing that I didn't see the signs for myself long before Reinhardt dropped his bomb on me. I mean, I guess I can give myself some grace for missing those signs initially. You know, the lifting of ‘Scilla’s depression came with her renewed interest in her career, so the new clothes, the new hairstyle -- and even the new perfume and makeup -- didn't really raise any red flags for me. You know, even the late nights at the office didn't seem all that odd, given her new responsibilities. I figured it could all be easily explained as the typical rigors of advancement. But what I can't believe is how much of a fool I was to not question the new lingerie.

I was almost always the one to assume laundry duty and our household. And being the clean and organized person I am, I was a sorter. I always separated the lights from the darks, always read the labels, and I always checked for stains. Yeah...

You know, it probably should have worried me that the laundry bin was the first place I was seeing this lingerie. I mean, it stood to reason that if she were going to wear it, she would have worn it at home. And I definitely hadn't seen it. And yet there I was, standing in front of the washing machine, staring at a stain -- a clear sign that it had obviously been worn somewhere. But even then, for whatever reason, that disparity didn't even register with me. I mean, it didn't even occur to me to question it, to really consider the implication of that stain. And it's honestly laughable that my first thought -- my first and only thought -- was that she must have been trying it on, probably to surprise me, and had simply spilled something on it in the process. Completely naive. Man…but that was the depth of my trust and dedication to my wife.

Anyway, that's how Reinhardt ended up being the one to break the news. I had clearly, very stubbornly, ignored all of the glaring signs. But Reinhardt had picked up on others.

I remember he poked his head into my office with his typical casual aloofness, and he just said, “Ya got a second?”And that right there should have tipped me off that something bad was coming. You know, Reinhardt had never once NOT just automatically assumed I had time for him. He closed the door, and he looked at me with a concern and softness I honestly didn't know he had in him. He was surprisingly careful with his words, making sure to disclaim everything he was about to say with, “Ya know, I don't know what any of this means, and I'm not saying I know what's what here, but I think you should probably know...”

And that is when it finally sank in that whatever was coming next wasn't something I wanted to hear. And what came next was this: Priscilla had just returned from a company conference that had her out of town for an entire week -- a conference that Reinhardt had also attended. And he proceeded to tell me that some things felt, in his words, “a little fucked up” when he noticed that my wife and Gar Abydos were spending a significant amount of time together on the trip.

Apparently there were nightly drinks at the hotel bar and at least one private dinner for two at a nearby restaurant. Reinhardt had only seen the dinner by chance while he was out trolling for ladies himself. And he was quick to tell me that he didn't see anything overt, nothing definitive but that there was one thing that really seemed to add context to everything he'd seen.

Apparently, neither Gar nor Priscilla were on the flight home with the rest of the team. See, all of the travel had been booked together, so everyone was scheduled to be on the same flights both there and back. But on the flight back, there was no Gar and no Priscilla... And I was confused because she was home exactly when I expected her to be.

But it quickly came to light that that full-week retreat was actually only five days. So, it would seem that Priscilla had two days -- a weekend -- that wasn't accounted for by her conference attendance. I immediately felt that squeezing sensation in my lungs again. You know, Reinhardt was quick to tell me not to jump to any conclusions, but he was also pretty adamant I needed to look into it, and that much was obvious, and I did.

I didn't want to ask her outright. I was worried, I think, you know, not just about what she'd say, but that she'd be angry with me for questioning her. And besides, I probably wouldn't have gotten a straight answer to a direct question anyway. Not if what Reinhardt was suggesting was true. You know, she had lied to begin with, there was no reason to think that she wouldn't just continue with that lie.

No, I needed to investigate. I needed to “gather evidence” and “double check the data” to be sure. And a big part of me hoped that maybe all of this was just a misunderstanding. You know, that I dig into it and discover that Reinhardt, while well-intentioned, was just wrong. Nah, in my mind, reconnaissance was the best approach to avoid any unwarranted accusations, because even then, I was still primed to give her the benefit of the doubt.

But I got home from work that night to an empty house. A message on the machine -- not even a direct call to my porta a but a message on the machine -- was Priscilla's voice, normal and upbeat, telling me that she was going to be working late at the office, and that she'd fend for herself for dinner. Ya know, and this is something that had become so common it wouldn't have stood out at all any other time. But this time, I had all of the images Reinhardt had thrust into my head simply by raising the concern. Images that were all too easy for me to imagine. Detailed, gut-punching images, informed by years of learning and catering to my wife's particular tastes in the bedroom. Images that should only ever include me and my wife. Yeah, I am done for now.

[TAPE CLICK]

DOV:

I think there's one thing that we, both myself and the listeners of this program, can agree on is the power of the human imagination. And as you said, once that seed has been planted --

ORSON:

Good or ill. Absolutely.

DOV:

There's...there's, uh... It requires quite an effort to push back against that.

ORSON:

A lot of discipline. And, you know, there's a certain, umm, inevitability of how this is going to affect him out... even outside of what he may or may not find as to the truth of this...this suspicion.

DOV:

Yeah.

ORSON:

And we will be getting into that sort of thing in the, uh, in the next segment.

DOV:

Alright.

[TAPE CLICK]

JACK:

Finding the proof I had decided I needed was depressingly easy. You know, like I said, ‘Scilla and I were partners in all things, so I had all of her handles and passwords. I mean, you'd think she would have thought of that, but clearly she didn't. Anyway, I had the keys to the kingdom -- and not just hers. Thanks to my position in accounting and Gar's incessant use of his company card for anything he could possibly get away with, I had everything I needed for him as well -- or near enough anyway that I could work out the rest.

The first question was easy to answer. It was all there. You just needed to know where to look. According to Gar’s transaction history, he had -- in fact -- extended his stay at the hotel for an additional two days. And that was the first nail in the coffin. But that by itself wasn't definitive proof of something illicit. I mean, it was certainly suggestive, but I needed more if I was going to accept Priscilla's betrayal as fact. Because, again, I found myself slipping into that need to give her the benefit of the doubt. I was telling myself that I wasn't looking for proof of her infidelity. I was looking for a rational, alternative explanation.

But that never came.

According to Priscilla's transactions on her corporate card, she had indeed checked out and paid her bill at the hotel the morning after the conference had actually ended -- two days before she returned home and greeted me with a smile and a kiss. So where had she been for those extra two days? And why did she lied to me? I mean, the answer was pretty obvious, and I'm sure that would have been enough for most, but not for me. I was still in denial, I think. But things got even harder to explain away as I dug deeper. Jumping over to her personal card, I found a transaction at that same hotel bar, a transaction for what had to be at least four drinks. The time and date told me that they were purchased the evening after her supposed check out.

From there, things only got worse -- for her and for me. As I continued to scrutinize her personal card, I found four more transactions throughout the city over the next day and a half. So, she had clearly also stayed behind after the conference, just as Reinhardt had suggested. And it all came together in a nice, neat little bow when I realized that there was no transaction on any of her cards to suggest that she had paid for another room anywhere. From there, it wasn't hard to make the logical leap as to where she must have been staying.

But the final nail, the cherry on top of this whole thing, was a transaction on Gar’s card. A purchase from a clothing store in the city on the first night of his extended stay. A quick visit to the store's web node and a simple search for the SKU listed on the receipt, left no doubt that Reinhardt had, in fact, seen exactly what he thought he saw. Because what Gar had purchased was a lovely -- and quite expensive -- piece of lingerie.

Seeing is believing, as they say, and I was looking at a picture of that same lacy red getup I'd found in our laundry bin not long before. It was identical in every way -- except one, of course. No, this one was missing a tiny but important detail Priscilla's had: a crusty stain just below the midsection. Yeah, that disgusting bit had clearly been Gar’s inspired alteration after purchase. A bit of extra personalization to prove to himself that it -- and my wife -- now belonged to him.

Because see, in his mind, everything automatically belonged to him the second he decided he wanted it. That's why he had no qualms about breaking the law, about using his company card to pay for these things -- these private, personal, offending things. Because to him, the company and its assets were somehow rightfully his by default, and any law or company policy that argued otherwise was -- at most -- an inconvenience that could be remedied with a simple trick, a magic little maneuver only available to the rich and powerful: you just refuse to acknowledge that law. You just ignore the rule. Or better yet, you simply deny the rule of law altogether. That's all it takes for people like Gar. Limits had no place in his world. Phrases like embezzlement or misappropriation or even sexual assault were easily accounted for in advance with retainers on the best lawyers tax write-offs could buy. Gar's full origin story may have been a public mystery, but whether he was raised in wealth or if he acquired it later, he understood a dangerously liberating truth: that once you reach a certain income level, or at least the appearance of it, you're suddenly free to just pay the fine rather than ask for the permission.

But where laws couldn't -- or at least wouldn't -- touch him, I would. I'd make sure of that. Ya know, for all of his preemptive insulating and fancy lawyers, there was something he had foolishly failed to take into account: the accountant. The dutiful little church mouse who had always done his best to be invisible. The one he'd never see coming. The one in whose wife he had so cavalierly planted his flag. The same insignificant little drone who, just days after discovering he'd been made a cuckold, was quietly stationed in the back of the room during an all hands meeting. The meeting where Gar’s repulsive, giant mouth -- projected across the comms screen -- unwittingly introduced us all to the beginning of the end -- to the mysterious, seductive cataclysm-in-product-form we'd all come to know as The Mater Node. But I didn't know any of that yet, of course. In that moment, there was only one end I could clearly foresee: the end of Gar's toxic, selfish little life.

ORSON:

Okay well, now it appears that Jack has the proof and...and therefore, so do we.

DOV:

It...it almost seems inevitable that Jack would uncover all of this. I mean, Gar didn't exactly hide it very well.

ORSON:

No.

DOV:

Gar...Gar did this in front of...and utilizing the card that this accountant was going to...he was going to have to look at these records. That's part of his job. It's...it's so flagrant.

ORSON:

Yes.

DOV:

it's like a lifetime of a lack of accountability has...has led him to, uh, just bare his faults in plain sight.

ORSON:

You have to wonder...Gar is probably used to people like his lawyers and his accountants and things like that getting him out of trouble as opposed to being the ones to, uh, to sort of bring the hammer down, so to speak. I mean, we can only know so much about Gar and what his motivations might be, uh, just piecing it together from what...what Jack gives us. And speaking of Jack, I think, uh, I think the audience would probably like to hear -- and you would like to hear -- what he, uh, what he does with his proof and, uh, where it takes him next.

DOV:

Yeah, I look forward to that. However, we do need to take a quick station break and then, uh, yeah, I'm sure Jack has...has quite a bit more to say. So with that, we will be back in a moment with more Kandel Against the Dark.

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

DOV:

And welcome back to Kandel Against the Dark.

Now, uh, okay, let's...let's get back to Jack's story. When we, uh, previously left him, he had sadly found the proof he was looking for, umm, of his wife's infidelity. Where does Jack's story go from here?

ORSON:

Well, as you said, Jack now has his proof, uh... And so, uh... Well, we're going to find out, umm, just what that proof translates to in terms of, uh, of Jack's next steps. So, uh, well, let's...let's let Jack tell us.

DOV:

Alright.

[TAPE CLICK]

JACK:

I knew I wanted Gar dead. That much I'd clearly settled on. But what I couldn't quite work out was how I was going to actually manifest that reality. You know, wanting something isn't enough. Action is where the results are. And the truth is, I wasn't entirely sure I had it in me to do what needed doing when it really came down to it. I'd never been an angry person before. I'd never been a violent person before. You know, aside from that whole fiasco with Priscilla's mystic of course. But that was a whole lot different than what I was committing myself to here. Those feelings of rage and disgust that were driving me were completely foreign experiences, about as far outside of my passionless status quo as you could possibly get. And because of that, I didn't trust them. Don't get me wrong, I didn't doubt their validity. What I doubted was their reliability. I think I worried -- a lot -- that those feelings would abandon me in the moment I needed the most. Ya know, that I’d lose my nerve and end up on the wrong side of the whole murder equation. Ya know, not an unreasonable fear for anyone planning to kill, really, but that was especially true for me. And because of that, I sat with those feelings for a long time -- weeks just waiting to see if they'd still be there, to see if they'd stay potent. And in the end, they were, and they did.

But still, during that time, I spent a lot of energy considering less risky, more passive ways to do the deed. You know, something I could just set into motion from afar and then allow to play itself out in my absence. My first thought was poison, but I quickly realized a man of Gar’s size would probably require a pretty hefty dose of anything toxic I could get my hands on. And that would have been hard to deliver without him knowing. Ya know, trying to conceal it would have meant using the absolute bare minimum of whatever I'd use. And if I miscalculated on that, even a little, it could have been a disaster. Because if he'd lived, he'd know. Ya know, not that I'd done it necessarily, but that would have been enough to at least alert him to an active threat.

So, I knew I needed to catch him unaware. And I also needed to be positive that whatever I was going to do, that it would be enough to finish the job the first time. I did consider, briefly, hiring outside help, but I had no idea how someone even goes about finding a hitman, let alone hiring one. And I also eventually realized that if I was going to bring about the end of someone's life, I should at least have the courage of my own convictions and do it myself. Ya know, passing off the deed to someone else really would have just been a pathetic attempt at keeping my own hands clean, as though it would have somehow made me any less culpable. And besides, the risk of exposure was too great anyway.

So then I went through a whole list of clichés I'd picked up from books and flickers and telly. Ya know, break lines, arson, finding ways to systematically ruin his life and drive him to suicide. But none of those offered any real guarantee of success, especially suicide. Gar just...wasn't the type. And like I said, people with far more resources than me had tried and failed to bring him down many times before. And that also meant that, long before this, he had taken to having full-time security at his side. So that was something else to contend with. Yeah, he seemed impervious. It was clear that I would need to take direct, lethal action, but I still couldn't figure my way around his protection. So instead I just stewed some more.

By this time, the Mater Node had already started to take hold of society, and things were getting strange. People had stopped coming into the office -- nearly all of them, really -- and it was becoming a very rare sight to see anyone venturing out into the world at all, even for basic needs. And a part of me thought that maybe this was a helpful development. You know, that maybe nobody was watching. Maybe that included his security. Maybe that would make my task a little easier. Maybe. But I still wasn't convinced.

I guess ultimately I have Reinhardt to thank for finally helping me along on my journey. Ya know, he was the one who provided me with both the validation and the physical means to finally do it. That's either the mark of a true friend or a complete psychopath. In Reinhardt's case, it's hard to tell. I don’t know, maybe it was both. Anyway, we had a regular routine of grabbing a few beers after work midweek, and despite the weirdness unfolding around us, he saw no reason to alter that routine. “All the more reason”, as he put it.

So we made our way to our usual haunt -- a dingy little pub called The Buzzing Fly. And things were no less strange inside the bar. Ya know, usually when a civilization starts to crumble you can easily rely on plenty of people drowning it all out with a bottle and a glass. But that wasn't the case with our crisis. The place was empty. Dead quiet. That's probably because this particular societal collapse was the result of the Mater offering a kind of pacification no alcohol could possibly match. No, to everyone else in the world, there was no crisis or cause for concern at all. Quite the opposite, actually. Everyone was finally getting everything they'd always hoped for. And all they had to do was just open that little black box and surrender to its contents entirely.

So yeah, the bar was completely empty. The bartender was still physically there, but in the truer sense, she was already gone. And when we walked in, she was stationed on a stool with an orb hovering just inches from her face. Another willing victim. She had no clue that we were even there, but Reinhardt wasn't going to let a matter of simple logistics put a damper on our night. No, in his reasoning, this was simply an invitation as good as a neon sign that read “please help yourself”.

So, of course, he didn't hesitate to make himself right at home behind the bar. And in typical Reinhardt fashion, he also didn't waste any time letting this newfound authority go straight to his head either. I mean, he gleefully informed me that there would now be two ironclad rules for our evening's festivities. One: no kiddie drinks. And by that he meant no mixed frou frou drinks and no beer either. Not an option. We would drink tequila or we would drink nothing. And two?: I had to match him shot for shot.

I wasn't planning to reveal anything to him, but any inhibitions I had evaporated around shot four. And it was right about that time that he decided to follow up with me regarding my investigation. I told him he was right, that Priscilla had stepped out. He wasn't surprised, obviously. I mean, I'm sure he was already positive before he even mentioned it to me. I think his disclaimers and “I'm not sures” were really just a courtesy. Maybe that was his way of letting me discover the truth for myself. I mean, I probably wouldn't have believed him if he had presented it any other way, honestly, and I think he knew that.

And I was just going to leave it there. But then he said it. He said the one thing I needed to hear. He said that if it were him, he would want Gar dead. “No question. The guy's a fucking blight.” Well, when he was right, he was right -- which in my experience had been always. And I guess in my drunkenness, that's all it took, because I told him everything. And as I talked, it was completely clear that he wasn't kidding. He had no compunction whatsoever about what I was planning to do. He actually seemed pleasantly surprised, almost proud. And he was pretty adamant that the best solution to my dilemma was a gun. Not an easy thing to get your hands on in this country, but that was, in his mind, the only way to go. A knife was too intimate, too physical, too likely to go wrong. A gun offered everything I needed and it would be quick. I just had to maintain my drive long enough to pull the trigger.

And when I told him I didn't have any idea where I'd even find a gun, he just smiled and said he'd look into it. That's what he said. He told me not to worry, that he'd figure something out, and then he smacked me on the back and told me he was going to “drain the demon”. A weirdly jovial way to end such a dark conversation, but as always, that was Reinhardt. And then he asked me to grab his wallet from his automo while he pissed. And it made no sense to me that he would feel the need to pay, given the state of things. But he made this whole song and dance about still respecting what little societal order we still had left by at least paying our tab. Ya know, that smacked of bullshit, of course, but he was insistent, so I took his keys.

And it all made sense to me -- that smile on his face, the errand -- when I pulled open the map cubby and found his wallet. Because below that was the answer I'd been looking for. The answer he had just promised me -- a shiny, fully-loaded revolver.

It seemed pretty clear what he'd done and what he wanted me to do. But still I hesitated to take it. It felt like stealing somehow, which seems silly, but that was the thought. In the end, I did take it -- exactly like he hoped I would. And that became abundantly clear on the drive back when he popped open the cubby to stash his wallet. He didn't say a word about the missing revolver. There was no outrage, no perceived injustice. Instead, he just closed the lid, sat back and smiled. Clever bastard.

[TAPE CLICK]

DOV:

Reinhardt came prepared.

ORSON:

Came prepared? Indeed. Yes. So, uh, a lot...a lot going on here. A definite shift. Or perhaps a settling on...on, uh, who we...we feel that Reinhart is as far as his character, his sense of ethics. The ease with which...well, Jack's description anyway, of the ease with which Reinhardt accepts the idea of murder here.

DOV:

Exactly. I mean, he seemed completely game for this plan. which is pretty shocking to me. I think it was shocking to Jack as well.

ORSON:

Yes, yes, I think you're absolutely right. Jack even says Reinhardt’s support in this situation is either the, uh, sign of a true friend or, uh, a complete psychopath.

DOV:

Right.

ORSON:

And...and maybe it was both, as Jack also said. So with that in mind, one of the things the psychologists on the team were considering, uh, was whether or not Jack had actually hit the nail on the head with that comment. Um, was it possible that...that Reinhardt had always had these, darker impulses, that were, uh, being kept in check by the rules and laws of, uh, of society? And once those rules started to break down, did that sort of open the door for those more, antisocial impulses to, uh, to actually express themselves in a...I guess, uh, a more unfettered way? Um, we were really wondering if, in this situation, did Reinhardt maybe see a chance to, in a way, live out his own desires vicariously through his friend? I mean, he did have a gun, which as Jack said, was a difficult thing to get your hands on, presumably because of the law against them. So it would certainly appear there was already a predisposition to rejecting, uh, societal norms, uh, kind of baked into Reinhardt's worldview.

DOV:

It's like an extreme version of when he just hopped over the bar and started serving them drinks.

ORSON:

Exactly, exactly.

DOV:

I...I think even from the start of this friendship between Jack and Reinhardt, the boldness and, um, as Jack called it “Invasiveness”, um, with which he just plopped down and started talking with him, it seems pretty clear that Reinhardt was someone who always marched to the beat of his own drummer In many ways.

ORSON:

That’s it exactly, um, and we on the team talked a lot about the fact that when a society starts to, uh, to break down, uh, we do see that inhibitions can start to fall away in people. Uh, masks can start to crumble as people are free to give in to their basest instincts, uh, without the fear of...of any kind of punishment.

DOV:

Right.

ORSON:

So as...as everyone else was getting the satisfaction of their deepest, most personal desires from the Nodes, uh, maybe Reinhardt was experiencing the same. But in his case, it was happening as a, uh, a kind of byproduct of the effects the Nodes were having on the rest of society.

DOV:

Right, right, right. Yeah, yeah.

ORSON:

Uh, that's what we were thinking here. But, I've said it before, all we could really do was speculate. You know, there wasn't much more to go on. Um, and ultimately, then as now, we were forced to kind of put these questions to the side, uh, because, uh, things are moving quickly for Jack, and he's ready to take us a little further down the road.

DOV:

Okay. Well, let's let him do that and we'll see how things unfold.

ORSON:

Okay.

[TAPE CLICK]

JACK:

So Reinhardt had finally given me the push I needed, but I'm kind of ashamed to admit that it still didn't translate to immediate action. Something still felt too chaotic and unplanned about all of it. And that just isn't where I do my best work, as they say.

Ya know, maybe it was foolish for me to expect some kind of ideal circumstance. I mean, I honestly didn't even know what an ideal circumstance for murder would even be, but whatever it was, I definitely didn't feel like it had arrived yet. Like I said, I felt pretty confident at this point that the ongoing collapse of civilization had eliminated most of the risk from the equation. His bodyguards were likely long gone, evaporated like everyone else into the Mater Nodes. And I was also pretty sure that I could rely on my newfound capacity for rage and hate toward Gar to see me through the hard part. The prior few weeks had given me that security, at least.

But something else had crept into my mind, and it was giving me pause. Ya know, not that I ever planned for her to know, but what if ‘Scilla found out what I'd done? What if that sent her recoiling away from me? I mean, it's a pretty tall order to ask someone to continue to share their life with you once you've violently murdered their lover....

I hate that I just use that word... Lover? I refuse to believe that there was any love involved in what ‘Scilla was doing with Gar. Ya know, for someone like my wife to be sharing a bed with some...

Like I said, she was in a desperate place. No matter her outward appearance of recovery, she was manically dedicated to reinventing herself. And this was all just a symptom of that. It was something new and novel she could get caught up in. A new skin she could put on. Ya know, something free of that shell that she had accidentally allowed to harden around herself during her depression. She wasn't thinking clearly. And vulnerability like that is just chum in the water for a creature like Gar. What was happening had nothing to do with love. It wasn't even an affair. It was a feeding frenzy.

Anyway, I was paranoid that after I'd finally taken that step, after I'd done what needed doing, that she'd know. Ya know, that after we had finally gotten our marriage back on track, at least comparatively, I'd slip somehow or that she'd just see it in me. And once she had that, that's all she'd see, and that she'd never be able to on see it. Hence that feeling that I needed to have a solid, foolproof plan in place.

But that all ended up being irrelevant in the end, because something happened that finally pushed me past all of my worry, and I became a man of action.

In the weeks since the Mater Node had begun its otherworldly rise in popularity, I had done my solid best to protect ‘Scilla from its calls. Ya know, like everyone, she was keen to give it a try. But after my experience at AwlMart, there was no way I was going to allow that to happen. I saw what it could do. Everyone could. It was plain to see. But unlike me, no one else saw it for the poison it was -- except maybe Reinhardt. He could see it. He just didn't care. Ya know, to him it was no different than any other drug. And his philosophy was, “Hey, if your life sucks, what's it for? Me to take any moral stance against whatever means you use to escape that misery?”

But it wasn't all non-judgment and personal choice for him either. There was a selfish bent to it. Because the Mater also offered him his own kind of escape -- an escape from dealing with people's “insufferable bullshit”. And in his mind, that was reason enough to not only support, but actively cheer on each and every “poor bastard” as they settled into their recliners and surrendered.

But to the rest of the world, the Mater was nothing short of a life-changing revelation. An answer to their long unanswered prayers. A technological advancement that promised “unparalleled joy and contentment”. The public opinion was flowing toward the Mater with a kind of consensus never before seen in history. It had fully captured the zeitgeist. The common refrain was this: “How could this possibly be a bad thing in a world of so much suffering and despair?” I mean, the Mater could “make heaven of earth” after all, which I suppose would make me the Anti-Shepherd in the eyes of...well, everyone, I guess.

[TAPE CLICK]

DOV:

It’s interesting the way he acknowledges...we've talked at length about his previous lack of desire and how all of that...an entire person's worth of desire being focused entirely on this one person, and now that --

ORSON:

Yes.

DOV:

-- that that has been damaged, it seems so much of that energy has now focused towards Gar and --

ORSON:

Uh, “chum in the water”. I mean, the vitriol, the...the, as he says, the rage in the hate that he's feeling. It's...it's palpable here.

DOV:

Yeah.

ORSON:

I find it interesting that he, he says, that he was sort of embarrassed that, uh, that he still didn't go into immediate action.

DOV:

Right.

ORSON:

Not, that he's embarrassed that he wanted to mur... and he uses the word murder.

DOV:

Oh, absolutely. He acknowledges what he’s --

ORSON:

He knows what it is that he wants to do. He knows what it is that he's...that he's going to do. It's the protection of ‘Scilla that seems to be the catalyst, the, the, the inertia that's pushing him forward into this, well, what appears to be a seemingly desperate act. And that's the interesting thing is, he talks about the Mater taking over more and more.

DOV:

I just want to acknowledge how quickly this...the, the Mater Node effect seems to have taken over.

ORSON:

Oh, absolutely, uh --

DOV:

It seems almost instantaneous.

ORSON:

Yes, yes. I mean, we've been going through the story and it's popped up here and there, but, we...we've just... it's faded into the background for us as it has for Jack, and yet suddenly here we are and everything's changed. And Jack, at the beginning of this whole thing, says, “a matter of weeks”, essentially, that...that it happened.

And that's the power of the Mater Node. And, and we've talked about the addictive aspect of it, but it was more than that. It was a religious experience, essentially. This was the answer to everybody's prayers. There doesn't seem to be any sense that there was debate going on. He mentions that public opinion...and that there was talk about it, but it was it was basically ubiquitous that everybody was, you know, saying...Yes, it was some...some recognition that this was strange and different, but, there was the idea that, “How can this be bad if it's giving us what is essentially utopia?” He uses the term, uh, that it's...it's basically “ Heaven on earth”. And then he says, “And my resistance to it essentially would make me the Anti-Shepherd in their eyes. ” Uh, the term “Shepherdist” appears to be their term for...for Christianity. And so he's making a joke here about being the Antichrist because he rejects the Mater Node. In fact, he mentions that when he was at the AwlMart, he had this desire to shake people out of...out of this...out of this, uh, this stupor, out of this daze that they were in. But, you know, of course, he realized that if he did that, he wouldn't get what he wants, which is what he's after right now.

DOV:

Right.

ORSON:

And while he's focused on Gar and what's going on with ‘Scilla, everybody else, including ’Scilla, is focused on the Mater Nodes. And Jack does talk about this in the excised portion here that, that, ‘Scilla has been asking Jack to buy her one. And Jack is always one to do whatever makes her happy. But he's also want to protect her.

DOV:

Right.

ORSON:

And just as he's trying to protect her from Gar, he wants to protect her from the Mater Node. And so he's making up all these excuses. “It's out of stock.” Although he admits that he hasn't...there seems to be an endless supply of these things. They're never out of stock.

DOV:

Right.

ORSON:

He, you know, “The store’s closed”. “Oh, I didn't have time.” Whatever. Okay? He's doing everything he can to do that, but he's also trying to avoid having a conversation about it because his resistance to it....he's afraid that... that ‘Scilla will see him as this Antichrist thing. He's, you know, this Anti-Shepherd. He says it jokingly, but the idea is that she will...it will drive a further wedge between them, and he's trying to avoid that at all cost.

He's navigating all of these different things and juggling so much right now, uh, and trying to keep his wife satisfied while away from these things. And for a while, he says this, this tactic worked. But, but then he comes home to what he describes as “a nightmare”. And we're going to, uh, put some ears on...on what that nightmare is right now.

DOV:

Okay.

[TAPE CLICK]

JACK:

I walked in the room and was immediately confronted with ‘Scilla’s slack face lit up by the glow of a Mater Node. She was on the couch in the family room -- my favorite place to find her doing things she shouldn't be. And the panic was immediate. I rushed over to her, and I tried to snap her out of her trance, but nothing worked. I shouted, I shook her, I begged her. Nothing. It was like I wasn't even there. Just like the bartender at The Fly. And I didn't even know where it had come from, how she'd gotten her hands on one. But that wasn't even close to my first concern. I just wanted to save her. To rescue her from the gilded cage of the Mater’s underworld.

I frantically paced around the room, racking my brain for anything, but nothing came, and that's when I saw it. Lying on the floor next to the torn-open box, there was a note. She'd obviously been so eager to dive into her own desires that she hadn't even bothered to hide it. It was from Gar. And it said, “For my joy to enjoy. Love, Gar.”

There is a physical dizziness that comes with discoveries like this. I'd felt it before when I finally understood the significance of Priscilla's cum-stained lingerie. But this time it was overwhelming. My heart was pounding and I felt sick. It was like every muscle in my body clenched, and I could taste metal in my mouth. It was the adrenaline. My fight or flight response had kicked in, and it had made a definitive decision: Kill. Exterminate. Destroy.

Gar had finally taken all that was left of ‘Scilla, and I would have my pound of flesh. There were no more waffling inactions, no more strategic considerations, no more concerns about consequences. There was only the burning rage in my core and the gun in my hand.

DOV:

Every time he tries to protect her, she slips through his fingers.

ORSON:

Yes, yes. But this time what Gar has done has not merely endangered their marriage --

DOV:

Right.

ORSON:

-- In Jack's eyes. It has endangered Priscilla. Uh, from his perspective, if he's ever needed a reason, this is it. The note is there, and any doubts...any of that goes away in this moment. As he said, there's just the rage in his core and the gun in his hand.

And perhaps it is revenge at this point. Revenge for what he, he fears may be the, uh, the loss of his wife.

DOV:

And it sounds like Jack is about to turn a corner and, uh, perhaps a point of no return. We will take a break, and we will come back, and we will find out where Jack goes from here. Stay with us. We'll be back momentatiously.

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

END OF EPISODE 4