10. Splitting It Four Ways

Larry wanted to further ponder this notion that somehow his arrival to this planet became linked to a now ticking doomsday clock.  However, the rebel leader Burnham instead wanted to know what happened to Duran Duran.

“I’m sorry,” said Larry, somewhat flabbergasted by the notion. “We’re a little short on time to …”

“No.  What happened to them after ‘Seven and the Ragged Tiger’?” Burnham insisted.  Surreal wasn’t quite the word to describe the inquiry, but Larry did his best to answer the question.

He recounted how Roger Taylor, the band’s drummer, became something of a family man.  When he did, all those piles of cocaine and cash became alien to him.  So, he chose the paved driveway, the window boxes and the pitter-patter of small feet to smashing Zildjian cymbals and Tama drum heads.  In the press, Roger’s reason for leaving was cited as “exhaustion.”  However, most insiders believe Roger bailed at the perfect time, just as their single “View to a Kill” stormed up the charts and the Duran Duran money train steamed strongly along.

Roger’s other two brothers, John, the bassist and Andy the guitarist eventually got bored.  This was readily apparent with the video for the song “Wild Boys,” which at the time rang in as the most expensive music video ever made.  The problem for viewers was the video mostly showed Simon Lebon being dunked underwater while wearing a leather jacket, awkward moving mannequins mouthing words and the rest of the band rolling around aimlessly in the dilapidated cousin of the car from “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.” Not so surprisingly Larry pointed out, as rock stars acquired piles of money, cocaine and women, they did, in fact, get very bored and chose to do things like make lavish music videos like “Wild Boys.”  Larry preferred when said rock stars smashed up hotel rooms, jetted off to Monaco with supermodels and spent hoards of cash on fast cars.  It made for better copy.  And it didn’t matter, Larry noted

Soon after, Larry recounted, the splintering began.  John and Andy, along with the late, great Robert Palmer formed Power Station, one of the ten greatest bands of the 1980’s, period.  Then along came Arcadia.  And back to Duran Duran.  It all became a little confusing for any fan of the band. Simon grew puffy and bloated as the years wore on; John and Andy stayed relatively the same and Nick Rhodes, the longest tenured member of the band, clung on to the whole thing as Elvis might hug a bowl of ‘Nilla Wafer pudding. And Roger did eventually come back when he realized it is very difficult to raise a proper family without a royalty check to keep the lights on.  Puffy and bloated, as most rocks stars get when hitting age 40, Roger rejoined the band.

Larry noted that Duran Duran still played gigs together today, but Roger Taylor was almost always a no-show, and the band wallowed playing venues like the Newcastle-on-Tyne Crafts and Haggis Jamboree, and various United States-based county and state fairs belting out ‘Hungry Like the Wolf’ and ‘Rio’ for whatever fried Twinkie or corn dog treats their manager could rustle up as payment before gigs.  Mostly, Larry noted, they’d become a pathetic shell of their “Girls on Film” selves.

“I loved them,” Burnham said.  He started mumbling the words to one of the band’s more famous songs. “You’ve gone too far this time … and I’m dancing on … the valentine …”

Larry interrupted Burnham’s singing.  “Can we get back to total planetary destruction?  I believe the scientist mentioned that was the path we’re going down unless we can stop … those guys,” Larry said, wagging a tired finger toward a wall.  Larry wanted quid pro quo for his Duran Duran story.  He wanted to know more about the planet and the rebels.  Burnham did not disappoint.

“This planet is called Skeksis,” Burnham said. “No one knows where the name came from.  But all the ancient records verify the original name as being this.  These people you’ve stirred to action are Emteeveens, named for that broadcast of music and senseless waste you sent to our planet.  They call the planet Emteevee after the network from which they established their culture.”

M-T-V, Larry thought.  Of course. Burnham continued.

“After the 13-day evolution, we all coexisted peacefully for a time.  None of us could understand anything about our makeup until we began making rapid-fire advances in language, technology and building our society.  Once again, our race leaped past the human race in terms of how we grew and evolved after we’d been created.  We had this language, roads, and transportation quickly.  Forms of commerce.  An established and well-used system of barter existed and functioned well for some time.  Then came the creation of politics and greed.

“Of course, these weren’t created,” Burnham continued.  “They were inherent traits many of us thought could be avoided with the right counseling, education and training.  However, there are thing that cannot be repressed about our condition much as I am sure there are things that cannot be repressed about the human condition.”

“The same things,” Larry said.

Burnham nodded his head.  “New leaders began emerging, playing the things that your satellite had programmed into us all.  A frenzy started; a wave of emotion, involvement and action.  Someone had the bright idea to create credits instead of barter.  Someone wanted all or most of the credits.  Those were the ones who asserted themselves and began a steady climb into the public consciousness.  All of this without one iota of logic, reason or discussion by already formed councils on such matters.  Cabinet rooms of economists, sociologists and others … ignored.  Gathering credits.  Those with more credits wielded more influence … you have the idea.

“There also came the use of power.  A sort of deliberate means of getting people into line.  Violence and brutality by those who wished nothing more than to control our minds and govern what we did and how we did it,” Burnham recalled.  He sat down in the chair in front of Larry again. “It was an easy play, really.  All they had to do was play to our programming.  And they did, over and over again, until eventually so many took it s the way things had always been.  They began broadcasts of their own.  Nightmarish falsehoods of the time that had already past – and there wasn’t much of it that HAD passed, mind you!  But this power they wielded transformed itself into gang and armies of repression.  The SteviNicks.  The Rotten Johnnies.  The Adam Ants.  All comp0sed to keep those who weren’t as compliant in line and paying attention.”

“And I take it you weren’t as compliant as they liked,” Larry interjected.

“We were the first rebels.  We cleansed ourselves.  Purged our minds.  Counseled.  Used whatever means we could to move ourselves into a neutral state of mind.  When all was said and done, about 1,000 of us rose up and attempted to take our message to whoever would broadcast it.  Five hundred of us were slain.  Another hundred of us imprisoned.  Fifty or so defected.  What’s in this room are what’s left of the leaders. The rest are spread out … hidden.  Ready to go when the time comes.  And now, quicker than we expected, the time has come.

“Mostly, we work in underground sanctuaries like these.  We stay away from technology, save what our own scientists devise.  Technology is the quickest way of getting caught.  They seized that first as a means to monitor us – telephones, computers and all the rest.  Even the holographic imaging and the BJ and the Bear Gustation Communication Centers were tainted.  It wasn’t long before society had become overrun with a bath of communications from these people that made absolutely no sense to any of us who wanted to live a free life.”

Burnham said the population of the planet had been affected, save the rebels, whom he said numbered in the hundreds of thousands.  Unfortunately, the planet’s population numbered in the hundreds of millions and continued to swell.  Burnham added that as rebel scientists worked on ways ridding newborns of the 1980’s programming from their DNA safely, the ranks of the frenzied grew stronger.

“It’s an overwhelming chore,” Burnham said. “There has to be a way to show all these people that they are not controlled by the Emteeveens.  Ah.  I babble.  In less than 30 hours, none of this will matter.”

“That’s when the countdown clock expires,” Larry said. “What happened when the countdown clock expires?”

“Let me show you,” Burnham said.

Burnham rose from the table, Larry and the others following in tow.  They arrived at what looked like another small briefing rooms.  This was almost a perfect hell, Larry thought, three committee meetings in one day.  Burnham brought up a fantastic looking three-dimensional image of the planet.  It spun around and along both its equator and what Larry assumed to be its Prime Meridian were green glowing spots.  The closely spaced spots dotted each ring.  Larry figured there must have been 75 to 100 dots on each ring of the globe.

“What are those?” Larry said.

“Thermonuclear weapons.  They are embedded deep in the crust of the planet.  Powerful weapons these.  When detonated, they’ll split the planet into four neat quarters.  Four separate chunks of rock, once exploded, I’d guess.  My scientists also share my opinion.”

Larry’s eyes widened. “Who the hell planted 200 nuclear weapons in this planet’s crust with the intent of blowing it all to hell?” Larry asked, shouted.

“They did.”

“And why did they do that?”

“Because, and I’m quoting them here, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time,’” Burnham said, a sad smile on his face. “And because you told them to, through that article of yours.”

“My article?  I never said … anything about nuclear … what the hell?  I never …” With a metaphorical baseball bat, Burnham struck Larry into a stupor. “It seemed like … a good …”

“So many things do, Larry Milk,” Burnham said. “We have two problems: one you can help us solve and one you can’t.”

Larry asked about the one he could help solve.

“Oh that’s easy.  They’re looking for you already.  You just need to b=go back to GoodGoodman and convince him that everything you wrote in your article is crap.  Gibberish.  A lark.  You need to go play ‘Larry Milk the Savior’ to the leaders of those crazies.”

“And that will somehow help?” Larry asked, pacing now.

“No,” Burnham said, “not at all.  But it will buy us time to get to the detonation chamber where those thermonuclear devices will be set off.  The more you can play savior, and the more they follow your act, the bigger a distraction you’ll become to the while lot of them.  And while they’re all focused on you, then we can focus on shutting off those nuclear devices and righting the ship.”

“I’m not an actor.  I mean, I wouldn’t even know what to begin to say or do to …”

“We’re going to help you with that,” Burnham said. “We’ve got some talking points for you already mapped out.  Follow them and do the things we ask, and we’ll be home free.”

“No chance!  They’ll see right through me!”

‘Larry, you keep forgetting.  This isn’t some memory of a best friend from your high school.  You are part of their DNA.  You are part of MY DNA.  Like a chromosome.  Whatever you do will be watched, followed and believed by enough people to make a stir and give us enough of a chance to halt the detonation,” Burnham said.

“So, I just go in and tell them to stop the detonation.”

“Not that easy, Larry.  The smart ones already have their escape routes and tickets punched.”

“For where?”

Burnham looked at Larry.  Larry thought for a moment.

“Earth?”

“They’ve been reconnoitering your planet for a very long time now.  They like it.  AND they are superior.  They know with a little time, they can manipulate human society faster than they manipulated this one.  And they’d be eons faster, smarter and more powerful than even your greediest politicians.  So, in effect Larry, you’ll be saving two worlds.  This one and your own.  And the only way those devices won’t be detonated is if we stop them.”

“So why don’t you get on that rocket.  Go to Earth with them?”

The rebels laughed together at Larry’s statement.  Burnham stood up.  “We … happen to like this planet, Larry.  And we’d like to save it.  And with you here, we can.”

“And given the chance, we’ll kill all those bastards when we’re done,” one of the rebels said.

“So I shouldn’t say ‘no’?” Larry asked.  Burnham shook his head. “Then I guess I should ask where I start, but I have one request.”

Burnham waited for Larry’s request with a stern face.

“I’m …tired.  And I need to eat.  Can we afford a two-hour nap and a Happy Meal for me?” Larry said, chagrined.

Burnham nodded.  The food came quickly.  Burnham told Larry he could sleep an hour.  No more.

“And then?” Larry asked.

“And then we go to Londontown to consort with the Adam Ants!”