15 Reasons to Say Goodbye - Reason 14: The Harsh Reality of the Situation

Late one evening in the science wing of a prestigious New England university, a lone window glowed with faint illumination. If one were to approach this dim portal on the first floor of the ivy covered building, he would immediately notice the voluminous amount of textbooks, manuscripts, and even loose-leaf notes piled several feet thick upon tables near the window sills. Venturing closer still, and peering through the grimy and seldom-used windows, one would certainly espy a middle-aged man, graying at the temples, bedecked in a worn lab coat, and looking for all the world like the stereotypical image of a mad scientist, writing furiously upon a dusty chalkboard in the corner of his office. 
     

"So if the variables remain constant in this line....then this proves..." the Professor, one Rudolph Rander murmured to himself, deep in concentration despite the late hour. Prone to losing track of time, the professor was at this very moment, pursuing a topic of particular interest to him. The very nature of reality itself. For months Rander had been working on a complex mathematical formula which he was convinced would disprove the existence of God, Allah, or whatever flavor of personal creator being one may worship. Alas, as chance, or perhaps fate would have it, the world would have to wait a little longer to learn the secrets Rander was about to uncover.

"Professor, are you there?" Jacob Erskine, one of Rander's two grad-student assistants entered the professor's office, a look of concern spread over his all-American features.

"...hmmm? What? Oh yes, Jacob. Come in, come in. You've got to take a look at this," responded the thoroughly manic older man. "I've just discovered something most surprising, something I wasn't looking for at all."

"What is it, sir?" Jacob stepped towards the board, and cocking his head to one side, said, "Is this the research you've been so anxious to keep secret from myself and Melissa?"

"Don't be so sensitive, Jacob. You must understand that I am something of a recluse. Were it not for the necessity of funding provided by the school, as well as access to their equipment, I wouldn't even be teaching these ridiculous children." The professor paced as he spoke, wringing his hands nervously. "You and Melissa are the only two students here deserving of any recognition whatsoever. The majority of the trust-fund brats will never amount to much more than wealthy alumni that the school can pump for donations. What....wait, where is Melissa anyway?" Rander glanced at the watch on his wrist. A perplexed expression washed over his face as he raised the instrument to his ear and lightly wrapped upon the crystal face. "For that matter, what are you doing here at this hour?"

Turning from the board towards the professor, Jacob assumed a look of amusement. "I'm here checking up on you, professor. Do you have any idea how long you've been cooped up in this musty office? You need to get out and get some air. This isn't healthy for you." As he spoke, he turned his head slightly to regard the stacks of moldering paper atop the nearby tables, and row upon row of science texts placed carelessly upon the bookshelves which lined one wall. With a look of disdain upon his face he asked, "When was the last time someone cleaned in here?"

"There's no time, boy." The professor confidently strode towards his board, one arm outstretched towards the mathematical jumble scrawled thereon. "Can you not see what I've just discovered?"

Turning once more towards the indicated board, Jacob examined the seeming madness scribbled upon it's slate gray surface. His eyes slowly widened and his jaw dropped slack as the implications of the information began to sink in. "This can't be right."

"Ah, but it is, it is." The professor giggled like a madman and spun in place, arms held wide. "I didn't want to believe the data, but I have to accept it. We are living in a simulation. I don't know what force or entity is responsible, but there was in fact a conscious and planned origin for the universe."

"How...?" Jacob stammered, searching for the right words.

"The lack of true chaos, the fact that I can prove that nothing in the universe occurs at random or by chance." Finally regaining control of his raging emotions, the professor's outstretched index finger came to rest on a particular section of the complicated equation. "No system can be designed to incorporate true chaos. If a creator creates something, then by dint of it's existence it represents order. You can sew the seeds of chaos, or foment unrest, but actually creating the concept of chaos....impossible!"

The look of bemused wonder that had settled over Jacob's face slowly bled away, replaced by a dead, glazed look. The familiar warmth had similarly drained from his voice when he finally replied, "That's really too bad, professor. I had hoped it wouldn't turn out this way. You're smarter than we gave you credit for. I guess it's really a testament to our own abilities...who knew we could create something so...life-like?"

"Jacob...? What?" The professor edged away from his young grad student, wary of his shift in tone and demeanor. "What are you implying, Jacob?"

"Don't fear me, professor. I will reveal everything to you in time, satisfy all of your intellectual curiosity. However, you mustn't be allowed to reveal any of this information to the public." Jacob reached one hand out towards the professor, his other, slowly inching towards Rander's desk. "Such knowledge would panic the masses. The processing power expenditure required to keep the program running under such circumstances would prove problematic."

"Enough of this foolishness, Jacob!" Rander takes another step back, but bumps into the door as it opens behind him. 

On the other side of the portal, Melissa looks up, startled by the impact of the door hitting the professor's body. "Professor Rander, Jacob what are you...?" Melissa's head peeked around the doorframe to take in the tense standoff between the two men.

Rander briefly turned to regard the young woman, and it nearly cost him his life, as Jacob's other hand shot forward, a heavy paperweight in its clutches. "Now you both must die," screamed the apoplectic young man. 

Desperate to protect his life, as well as that of his other prized-pupil, Rander moved inside the blow, throwing his own body against Jacob's not-inconsiderable bulk.

Professor and student both fell to the floor grappling, as Melissa stepped into the room. Screaming for them to stop fighting, Melissa determinedly grabbed a nearby lamp, and with every ounce of strength in her small frame, slammed the base against her fellow student's head with a muffled thump.

After helping the battered and winded professor to his feet, Melissa then checked on the status of her classmate. " What the hell professor, what did I walk into?"

"I'll explain everything later, for now, we have to preserve my work, and our lives. It's important we're not here when he wakes up." As the professor carefully snapped photos of the blackboard, he failed to notice the scene behind him.

"Professor...I don't think that's going to be a problem," said Melissa, her voice quavering with emotion, "Jacob's dead."

Turning towards his quietly sobbing student, the professor's face turned ghostly white as realization dawned. "Come, Melissa, get up. We have to run."