Far above the world

The last few days have been strange ones. On Wednesday morning Major Kubrick showed up at my room at 7:02 sharp. Whenever I see him it seems like I shrink a few feet. It's like looking up at a Redwood tree.

He came into my room all business and told me to sit down. Stanley piped right up as soon as he entered.

Stanley: Major Kubrick, would you like an audio record of this meeting?

Major: Yes Stanley, that's fine.

Stanley: I can also transcribe and print the record with annotations of psycho-analysis where applicable.

Major: That won't be necessary.

Then he turned to me and opened a thin black folder. He produced a neat stack of paper and tapped it once on his knee.

Major: Good morning Clark. Do you know why I'm here?

Me: I think so.

Major: I need to review some of the ship guidelines and standards to make sure you understand what is required of all crew members. Are you comfortable?

Me: Sure.

At that point he started rambling on and on about respect for fellow crew members, safety drills, proper attire, following orders, bla, bla, bla. Basically all the stuff my Virgle Advisor went over with me before I left. It was like orientation day at a big corporate gig.

Anyways, just as I was tuning out Major Tom flipped to the next page and there, on the back of the page facing me, in big handwritten letters was a message:

DON'T TAKE THE PILLS

I looked up at Major Kubrick who stared intently back for a quick moment then continued to read in a relaxed, measured tone. He finished the page and flipped to the next one plowing ahead in his narration. Another message was written on the back of the page:

DON'T TRUST STANLEY

At this point I was starting to feel really paranoid. Stanley's red light seemed to be shining brighter than usual. I felt like it was shooting an invisible laser beam into my forehead.

The Major read on in his steady, dry tone and flipped another page. Another message:

WAIT FOR MY SIGNAL

He read a few more words about my conduct being unfit or something then tucked his pages back into the folder and stood up. He looked at me as if heat beams were about to shoot out of his eyes.

Major: Do I make myself clear Clark?

Me: Yes sir. Very clear.

He gave a tight smile and about faced right out of there. I haven't seen him since. Needless to say I haven't been sleeping well.