NEGA | Ch 2

Age 4

Negative, most famously known as Nega, the vicious mastermind, a scrupulous genius that has conceptualized a vast variety of mechanic constructions. A malicious, vile, cold killer with as much scrutiny as any relentless tyrant. He cannot bear or understand what factor of humanity can be perceived as pure, deeming it deplorable. A fanatic delving into delusions and hypocrisy, possessing power far too vast for retribution. A man none can oppose, even when they are united. A galactic legend many advanced societies regarded as only a ghost story.

However, that is only in the future. A future that has yet to occur; a history yet to be written. Right now, his name isn’t Negative, no one has even heard the title Nega. Right now, his name is Asher, a four-year-old boy fighting a war he never noticed was occurring. At the moment though, his mind is focused on other matters, matters which a soothing car ride can only perpetuate.

He looked around the vehicle as it hummed along the highway. It is an average car: leather seats, small family sedan, him in a baby chair with seatbelts pressing against his front, and fairly tinted windows. Based on the color of the side mirrors it had to be a red car. His hand glided up to his face and habitually pressed on the shades planted on his face, then swiftly moving down to adjust the medical mask on his face.

He faced the mirror in the middle, right between his parents. He knew who they were even though he had no full memory of them. A feeling of familiarity permitting him to speak his mind, “Where are we going?”

He watched the blue eyes of his father dart to the mirror to look at him then back to the road ahead of them. “Home.”

Quick and to the point. A swift answer to his specific question. It is quite the subliminal reward. It encouraged him to continue questioning the world around him, his fascination contributed to his search for answers.

The tip of his nose twitched side to side, the inner nares tickling him with the urge to scratch it out. His knuckle roughly knotted into the mask and straight into his nose where he made quick circles to itch the spot. A habit he developed since he was forbidden from taking off the mask, but there were extenuating circumstances that made such a requirement all the more troublesome. A rather strange request now he thought about it. He had asked about it before, but he didn’t remember the reason or explanation as to its residence. His brother Cain didn’t have one. No one in the family or anyone he has ever met wore one other than him.

The awareness nagged at him till his young mind couldn’t take the trepidation. “Why can’t I take off the mask?” He asked, all his attention to the mirror in the middle.

He could hear his father sighing upfront, clearly tired of this repetitive conversation. Why was asking such a question such a bother, he has the right to know right? Luckily his mother isn’t dissuaded. She looked back at him, “It protects you.”

“From what?”

She smiled warmly at him, “All the bad bugs in the air.”

He blinked, considering all the flies and the other insects that he’s seen flying around haphazardly this was a reasonable explanation; however, “Why doesn’t Cain wear one?”

Mother didn’t expect that question based on the brief hesitation and the nearly unnoticeable twitch of her smile. “He’s strong enough to fight without it.”

Asher brought his arms up to flex them as intimidatingly as possible, showing off all muscles he had, “But I am strong. I can take it.” Of course, this isn’t true. He later finds out the issue wasn’t physical strength. Right now though, he only wanted to prove his worth to his parents. He didn’t want them to see him as only a burden.

Father finally spoke up at that, “You’ve fought these bugs before, Asher. Each time you’ve nearly lost. It’s best if we don’t take that risk.”

The pang in his heart rang like a bell in his chest. So they didn’t think he was strong enough. His arms dropped to his sides dejectedly as he turned to watch the signs and buildings zoom by. Several minutes passed in silence as he stewed over what his father said. He nearly lost, he didn’t remember fighting any flies. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t been in any fight. Not any like he’s seen on the TV.

Slowly his attention waned and he watched the outer world beyond the car. The signs along the road whipped past his window at breakneck speeds, but when his attention focused on the buildings much farther away they seemed to snail by, giving him ample time to witness its structure and color.

He pressed closer to the window, the side of his face nearly squishing into it as he attempted to look further down the road, trying to catch a glimpse of the next sign. It soon came barreling down the road. He quickly turned, pressing against his chair as it flew past him. Next, he gazed at the building, he barely turned his head to watch it drift from one side to the middle of the window. Then a sign suddenly popped up to obstruct his view and suddenly disappear before he could blink.

He turned, trying to see where it was going, but his seatbelt snagged his shoulders. Why did he have to be in this stupid seat, Cain didn’t sit in one. Regardless his curiosity superseded the notable discrimination and he turned to face the mirror again. “Why is the ground moving at different speeds?”

The father was the first to respond this time, his eyes darting to the mirror with pure confusion etched in his eyebrows, “What?”

Asher pointed out the window, “The ground closest to us moves fast, but farther away those buildings are moving slow. Why?”

The father’s eyes lightened, and brows arched up as he nodded in understanding, “That’s distance tricking your eyes. The ground moves at the same speed, but because of the distance it looks to be moving slow.”

Asher tilted his head to the side. That didn’t make sense. If the ground was moving at the same speed then it should be observable in the environment. What does distance have anything to do with it? Though he couldn’t refute it, his father was saying this after all. It had to be correct… somehow. “How does distance do that?”

Father took a breath but paused. A few seconds later his breath came out as a sigh, “I don’t know buddy.”

He turned to look at his mother who only cast a glance over her shoulder and shrugged. Seeing he wasn’t going to get an answer from them he looked back out the window. Maybe he could figure it out himself. Still, the issue remained present and he knew the exit to the highway was coming up which would deprive him of this tangible evidence. He needed something closer, something he could manipulate. Unable to think of anything he pressed his hand against the glass and leaned forward, squinting to get a better look at the building. That’s when his eyes grazed over his hand, an idea popping into his head.

The variable he was testing was distance, wasn’t it? Then the part he could control was his hand. He pulled his arm back and looked it over, he was very cold at the moment so the movement of his fingers was slow, but shaking the whole limp proved to be swift enough. Asher pulled his hand toward the right side of his face till his peripheral could barely see it, then, at a reasonable speed, pressed it sideways till his hand was on the other side of his peripheral. It went by in a blur.

Satisfied with the first test he pushed his arm out as far as it could, also placing it where his peripheral could hardly see it. He used the same speed as the first try and it went by slowly. He brought his hand back, eyes full of wonder. Dad was right, it moved so much slower, but why? Another issue he found was the distance his arm traveled. The first test didn’t hurt, but the second hurt his shoulder. He also noted his arm was almost pushing his whole torso trying to stay out straight moving toward his other peripheral.

His heartbeat rose as his mind worked quickly, his arm had to move more just to make the same distance trick as the first test. Changing how far the second test moves would be more beneficial for his deduction. He redid the first test, changing nothing. Then he moved on to the second test, this time he brought his hand to the same place as the first test. He pushed it forward like he was moving a box. It was no longer in his peripheral and he could see his pinky. His arm then moved to the other side, the same distance as the first test. It remained in front of his vision.

He brought his hand back, his heart in a flutter. He was on to something, something spectacular. He was solving something his parents didn’t even know. He had to show them, but not yet. He still needed an answer to wow them with.

He licked his lips under the mask, his eyes darting back and forth in thought. The distance was the same, but it looked different. The speed was the same but its movements seemed inadequate. The only differing factor was the distance.

The car turned, heading off the highway; he had to hurry, he only had a few minutes till they were home. Heart pounding in his chest, his eyes scrutinized the digits of his hands. Another thing he noticed was the size, at a distance his hand seemed smaller, but everything was the same, wasn’t it?

He cursed his mental assumptions, his dad said distance tricks him. Distance was distracting him from the real reason. What was it?

He turned to look at the buildings one more time. They did seem smaller than when he was standing next to them. When he stood before them he could only see their wall. He would have to back up just to see the sky beyond its roof.

He paused, his eyes widening. That was it. He had to back up to ‘see more.’ He almost slapped himself as he brought his hand near his glasses; it obstructed his view, he couldn’t see anything. However, when he brought his hand out he could see the front of the car again.

His heart began racing, he had to test his theory. He snatched up a pencil from his pocket and brought it close to his face. He placed it in front of one eye, then shifted it in front of the other. Then he brought it further out and moved it the same distance. The difference was noticeable but only by an inch relatively. That means if he could push it even further away and use the same speed and distance it would have been completely imperceptible.

Glowing he practically hopped up and down in his seat, swinging the pencil around trying to get his parent’s attention. “Mom! Dad!” They both quickly looked back at him; his father with the mirror and his mother completely facing him.

“I know how!”

“How what?” Father asked with scrutiny.

“How distance makes things move differently!”

“Oh.” He turned to look back at the road, uninterested.

Seeing his mother still watching his enthusiasm persisted, “It’s because the further something is the more you can see! Like your hand, if you hold it here,” He pressed it in front of his peripheral once more, his mother copied him as he continued, “Then moved it to the side it seems fast, but it also takes up all you see! Then when you move it farther out and do the same thing,” He did so along with her, “It moves slow but also you see more! That’s why, there’s just more to see! It’s just like dad said, distance is only tricking!”

Mother’s face crumpled into one of contemplation, her eyebrows raising as she nodded, “That’s true. Never thought of it that way. That’s quite fascinating.”

Something was wrong, his chest told him so and it ate away at his mind. “Yeah, it’s also why everything seems so much smaller farther away! The more there is to see the less size there is!”

She hummed in agreement, though her eyes remained on him and they seemed piqued with interest as she nodded with his spiel it dawned on him. She was feigning interest. She didn’t find this interesting nor impressive. “R-right.” He tried sounding indifferent, casting his gaze back out the window.

“That is fascinating Asher. It was a nice observation.” She turned to look back forward.

He remained quiet for the duration of the car ride, his head resting on the glass. The tears stung as he fought the urge to let them loose. If it was so insignificant for his parents to care about then it shouldn’t be something he should cry over. He sniffed, the sound muffled by the mask just as they turned the corner to travel down the road to their hose.

He solved it, the mystery that plagued him and his parents. Why everything seemed so much slower. He puzzled, he scrutinized, he did everything to solve it. To impress them. They didn’t even know the answer and he solved it. Him, by himself of all things. That’s strength, isn’t it? He was capable, but they didn’t even compliment him. They could only turn away uninterested in the reason, uninterested in him.

The car rolled up the driveway and into their garage, the sunlight quickly dimming from the shade the roof cast over them. Father set the parking brake and turned off the car. Mother was the first to get out, closing it as Dad opened his door. She came around to Asher’s door and opened it for him, quickly unbuckling him and picking him up to set him down on the floor. Dad then pressed a button and the massive doors slowly descended back to the ground.

Mother ushered Asher inside with a friendly smile as Dad quickly followed behind them. Both failing to notice the small shimmering trail running down their son’s cheek.