Boundaries

A Russian mogul is confronted by an unexpected guest.

 

Sergio rolled his fingers across the small desk in his office. His anticipation was eating away at him as he waited for the news on the new drilling project. The last update he had been given by his secretary, Anna, was that they had just begun the project and were set to drill 14 kilometers into the crust of the Siberian tundra. He turned on the television to distract from his anticipation, watching a documentary about the North American Crow, and was quickly bored with it, shutting off the television. His office phone rang, he quickly answered it.

 

            "Yes?"

 

            "Mr. Karamazov, we've discovered something you must see!" A fidgety voice exclaimed on the other end.

 

            "What is it?" Sergio asked.

 

            "Sir, you must see this for yourself!"

 

            "Very well," Sergio replied, he rose from his chair, bundled for the cold weather, and left the trailer his office was in.

 

            The wind combined with the cold was quite bitter, solidifying the moisture in his nose almost immediately. He was hoping he could supervise the drilling from his office, and was quite perturbed that his understudy had brought him into the sub-zero temperatures for something unknown. Little flakes of snow crashed onto the exposed parts of his face, knowing he wouldn't be able to remain comfortable long. He spotted his understudy flailing around to catch his attention, and began to approach him. When Sergio arrived in front of his understudy he noticed the man's face was wild with excitement and disillusion. Sergio took note of this and pondered the case of these emotions.

 

            "Sir, we've discovered the frozen remains of a Wooly Mammoth!" the understudy shouted.

 

            Sergio was unimpressed, and quite angered that his understudy had allowed this irrelevant discovery to halt the drilling. He angrily threw up his frozen arms in frustration and began walking back toward his trailer. He turned his head back at the man just long enough to retort: "Call the game warden, get it the hell out of our way and commence drilling!" When he reached his trailer he was glad to open the door and be greeted by the warmth of the kerosene heater. He shed his layers and turned toward his desk, where he was greeted by an unexpected guest.

 

            "Greetings Mr. Karamazov," it said.

 

            Sergio couldn't believe his eyes. On his chair sat an articulate Three-Toed Sloth. It was slightly odd in appearance, sitting with its legs crossed, its fur fine and dirty, with patches of moss adorning small areas of its backside. Its claws were very long and manila colored, it had the face of a sunken canine with two black eyes and dirt yellow cheeks. Between one set of claws rested Sergio's USSR coffee cup, from which it took very long, drawn out sips, as if it's arm were combating a one-hundred pound dumbbell. It slowly set the cup on the desk and reclined back, all in all the process took about two minutes, which Sergio had spent staring in disbelief. It slowly cupped its hands, rolling its claws into one another, creating the sound of clashing finger nails.  

 

            "Do sit down Mr. Karamazov," it insisted with its clean British accent. "I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion, but I assure you I was given no more notice of this meeting than you were."

 

            Sergio decided to sit, still terrified and unable to express his current state of shock.. How could this be? He thought to himself. I must be going mad!

 

            "To the contrary my boy, what you see before you is no less palpable than the chill of the tundra, or the optimism of a full moon," the sloth replied.

 

            I didn't even say anything...I...did he just read my mind? Sergio thought.

 

            "Pardon me for the lack of privacy Mr. Karamazov, yes, I am reading your mind, do not fear me sir, my intentions are of the best, however it is imperative that you be as candid with me as possible during our correspondence," the sloth said. "If you would rather conduct our meeting with telekinesis that can be arranged."

 

            Sergio began to bite his fingernails, he had never been so nervous in his entire life. It's a terrible habit... A voice told him.

 

            "WHAT!?" Sergio shouted. "That wasn't me!"

 

            "Of course it was Mr. Karamazov, I know better than to partake in such a filthy habit," the sloth slowly reached down to his hip. "Oh you mean that thought, no, it was me...but I was a gentleman that time around."

 

            "I don't know which question to ask you first..."Sergio said, trailing off.

 

            "Yes, I certainly understand. I'm thousands of miles from my homeland; I don't mean to be rude Mr. Karamazov, but I don't like it here. "I'm afraid I can't go outside, I am unable to maintain a constant body temperature," the sloth raised his hand to his face in slow motion, placing a long, thin cigarette in his mouth. "Trouble you for a light sir?"

 

            Sergio without hesitation obeyed, flipping open his Zippo and lighting the cigarette. The sloth took a puff and slowly lowered the cigarette to Sergio's ash tray.

 

            "Do have a smoke Mr. Karamazov."

 

            Sergio reluctantly lit his own cigarette, and sat staring at the strange creature. Who are you? He thought.

 

            "Oh my!" the sloth gasped. "Mr. Karamazov accept my apologies, how rude of me not to introduce myself, I am Brad Yeepas, I am the legal representative of HHMA, that is, the Heaven and Hell Mediation Association."

 

            "What...what do you want?" Sergio asked.

 

            "Well, humans fail to understand the importance of a boundary between Heaven and Hell. You see, that boundary is comprised of three layers, the mantle, the crust, and the atmosphere of Earth. Without these boundaries Heaven and Hell would be far too close for comfort Mr. Karamazov...do you understand where I'm going with this?"

 

            "My drill?"

 

            "Precisely. You may very well find yourself breaking the barrier...with the atmosphere already on the fritz, I'm afraid I cannot allow this to happen."

 

            "We found a mammoth," Sergio blabbered. He didn't know why he said this, but he did.

 

            "Yes, you have. Congratulations, they are a very respectable beast," the sloth slowly brought the cigarette to his mouth for one last puff. He then lowered it and put it out. "Immorality is more of a price than a reward Mr. Karamazov."

 

            "What do you want me to do?" Sergio asked.

 

            "Cease drilling, naturally," the sloth told him. "You would hate to be the man responsible for severing the barrier wouldn't you Mr. Karamazov?"

 

            "I suppose..."

 

            "Now ask yourself Mr. Karamazov, what is the most intelligent bird in the world?" the sloth requested.

 

            Sergio was perplexed at such a seemingly irrelevant question. He didn't know the answer, but to appease his guest he decided to give it a shot. "Uhh...I don't know a parrot?"

 

            The sloth chuckled. He slowly sat up straight and leaned toward Sergio. "That is the assumption of most humans...it is however, incorrect. Would you like to try again?'

 

            "I'm afraid I don't know the answer," Sergio replied sharply. "I'm not an avian specialist," he said with frustration.

 

            "A crow Mr. Karamazov, a crow is the most intelligent bird in the world. Many people believe it is the parrot, simply because it can mimic human speech. The key word is mimic Mr. Karamazov, it is only repeating words that are often used, without having any idea what the word actually means...do you know why a crow is more intelligent?"

 

            "No."

 

            "Well, crows, to some extent, have the ability to reason. They use tools and deductive reasoning to secure their rations Mr. Karamazov. Humans are often granted the idea that they are the only animal with the ability to reason, however, a crow can reason. They've been known to use sticks as tools to fish insects out of trees, or drop nuts onto busy streets, because they know a car will crack the shell and expose the edible part of the nut."

 

            "I see," Sergio replied. Where is he going with this?

 

            "Ahh yes, forgive my rounded approach," the sloth said. Sergio forgot that it could read his mind. "My point is this: the drawback of this capability, to reason, is that a human can choose whether or not this reasoning is sufficient enough to halt their current plan of action. They fail to adequately assess the risks associated with their endeavors, because reasoning is subjective, and there is always another reason which trumps the associated risks of their current reason...are you following me?" he asked.

 

            "I think so."

 

            "You see, if you were to continue drilling, the personal gain would be significant, but the gains of the public and the universe would be nonexistent, if not deleterious. This is why you must put society over your personal needs," the sloth slowly sipped from the coffee cup. "It is impossible for a human to fathom immortality, they can try, but they will never fully understand what immortality is...Imagine Mr. Karamazov, never dying."

 

            "It would be a gift," Sergio replied without giving any thought to the question. "Disease would never be an issue, crime would be impossible, competition wouldn't be feasible, and humans would be free to do as they please, with no restrictions!"

 

            "Would they Mr. Karamazov? How would you do away with corruption? Prison would mean nothing; it would only be a temporary inconvenience. What motivation would humans have to continue living Mr. Karamazov? When the world finally becomes too unbearable to inhabit, where will you go? How will you get there?"

 

            "How could it be unbearable? Discomfort is psychological; discomfort is the human mind telling itself that any further punishment could result in death..."

 

             "I'm afraid you're incorrect Mr. Karamazov, discomfort has very little to do with death. I don't believe anyone has ever died of boredom, however boredom is the epitome of discomfort isn't it?"

 

            "How could we be bored? We could do anything!" Sergio shouted.

 

            The sloth slowly reclined. "Temperature change Mr. Karamazov...do you remember why I cannot go outside?"

 

            Sergio thought for a moment. "I believe you said your body temperature does not remain constant."

 

            "You have been listening, that makes me feel good Mr. Karamazov. You are correct; I cannot go outside because my body temperature does not remain constant. I would, therefore, be very uncomfortable."

 

            "You might even die."

 

            The sloth laughed. "I am disappointed Mr. Karamazov, I thought you were listening."  

 

            Suddenly the door of the trailer swung open. Sergio turned around, seeing his understudy enter the trailer and shut the door behind him. He looked at Sergio, taking off his hat and gloves. "Sir, we have the drill in place, we're waiting for your word to continue."

 

            Sergio turned back to the sloth, only seeing an empty chair behind his desk, a smoldering cigarette, and his television, playing a documentary on the North American Crow.

                       

Reviews

[richard hurndall]

I've been waiting for this story...a conversation between a Russian oil magnate and a mind-reading three toed sloth...why didn't I think of this!!

I enjoyed the loftiness of the sloth as he tried to explain the situation- that is some great dialogue there- very funny. Some nice little touches- sipping from a coffee cup, its 'clean british accent' adds a lot to the story, I can almost picture it!

I try to give constructive feedback with most reviews- some people like it, some people don't want it- I just do it anyway. But feel free to ignore it.

Something I picked up from 'On writing' by Stephen King. He suggests losing passive verbs and words like 'quite' as they slow down the prose. In the first few paragraphs Sergio is 'quite angered' and 'quite perturbed'- these are tiny details, but losing that would change the way the paragraph reads. Hope you don't mind. Congratulations on this story.

[Shayna]

I think this is brilliant. I absolutely love the ending. Your chose of details were perfect, and I could actually really picture the entire scene between the sloth and Sergio. I also really like the dialogue, especially that of the sloth.

[Vague]

Oh my, this was a great story xD

This story is full of wonderful imagination, and is easily pictured via the apt descriptions/details. The story was also extremely immersing: I absolutely had to find out what was next and how the story would end.

You've got a talent for the absurd, that's for sure. Very good job!

[Sound]

This story was perhaps one of the most imaginative I have read here on this site. It was funny, smart, witty, and had a moral behind it all. Very great story, my friend. Very great.

[Shayme]

It's almost impossible to imagine where such a story came from, but obviously the answer is from a very talented and creative imagination!

It's something you don't want to stop reading, and then in the end where your don't actually get to find out whether Sergio takes Brad's advice or not... well for me I particulary enjoyed it, you get to imagine wether or not he changes the world or lets it go on as it is.

Anyways, I guess I have a hard time being critical of anything. I'm kinda a loser in that way but it was really well put together, I liked it a lot! The only thing is the name Sergio kind of threw me off a bit. Sergio being the latin form and Sergei being the russian. I guess it's not a big deal, just something that I noticed right off the bat.