Chapter 13: The Open and the Closed

Calvin had announced Adrian as the winner, and the group had moved into the dining room and sat around the cramped table. Calvin had went into the kitchen to finish the preparations.

After some hesitation, Alexandria followed him. She leaned against the wall, and watched as Calvin strained the noodles and started to combine it with the sauce and a couple other last minute spices and cheeses.

He finally noticed she was there, but said nothing. Alexandria pushed herself off of the wall, and walked forward.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

Calvin looked around. “Not at the moment,” he said. “But in a few minutes you can probably start taking things out to the table. Why aren't you talking with the others?”

“They've by and large paired up,” said Alexandria. “Miranda and Alexander knew each other from a class, and I'm guessing they've gone on dates before or something. Theresa and Adrian are talking as well.” She cleared a space for herself on one of the counters, and hopped on top.

“So if they're pairing off, we are too?” asked Calvin.

“I suppose,” said Alexandria, and wiped a strand of brown hair out of her eyes.

Calvin set the main dish aside, and started adding things to a salad. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yes,” Alexandria said. After a moment's pause, she continued. “I'm sorry for getting upset with you. I'm guessing you assigned the characters randomly?”

He nodded. “You seem to do that a lot.”

“Get upset with you?”

“Yes,” said Calvin.

Alexandria shrugged. “I'm sorry?” She looked at Calvin a little more closely. “Are you happy with how the game went? Are you alright?”

Calvin looked at her, expressionless. “I'm always alright,” he said.

Alexandria wasn't convinced, but if he wanted to be that way, she would let him. She continued answering his former question. “Yeah, the game was fine. The discussion afterward was pretty ruthless. Alexander and I did our best, but Adrian just had the other girls in his hand without too much effort. I would have thought Theresa would have been on my side... but, that's what happens, I guess. Alexander in particular was a little upset with Adrian. It was a bit surprising, actually.”

Alexandria crossed, and then uncrossed her legs, fidgeting a little bit. “You did a great job with the characters and everything, though. Thanks a lot for putting it all together.”

“You're very welcome,” said Calvin. He held out the salad. “Would you mind taking this out to the table? And maybe seeing whether people want anything to drink?”

Alexandria looked at him. “Fine,” she said, and hopped off of the counter.

A few minutes later, Adrian came in. He grabbed Calvin by the shoulder, almost affectionately. “Stupendous game, Calvin,” he said. Calvin shrugged him off, and shook his hand instead.

“Is that the general consensus?” said Calvin. “Or are you biased due to your victory?”

Adrian shrugged. “Some people are more excited about it than others, I suppose. But, really, the arguing and the mind games with other people are the fun part. The game just got us to that point. Alexandria said you needed some help with the drinks? I've made a few mixed drinks before, and I brought the stuff for it as well.”

“If the other people want some, that would be great,” said Calvin. “You would have to do that pretty soon; I'm almost finished in here.”

Adrian left, and returned with a paper bag full of bottles. He started pulling them out. Calvin had finished preparing the main dish, and quickly showed Adrian were the glasses were before taking the rest of the food out to the table.

Calvin sat down at the head of the table, with Alexandria on his left. Miranda was sitting directly across form him, at the other head. The spot to his right was empty; presumably Adrian's.

“Adrian's making drinks for us all,” announced Calvin. “And then we can get started.”

“How fun,” said Theresa. “Thanks for putting the finishing touches on it, dear, it looks wonderful.”

Calvin nodded, and started to explain each of the dishes. As he did so, Adrian started giving drinks to people. They were amber colored, but with the consistency of eggnog rather than strict liquid. Some of the drinks were more viscous than others. Adrian finished handing the drinks out at about the same time that Calvin finished his explanations, and they sat down and started to eat.

“This is just fantastic, Calvin,” said Miranda. The rest nodded and murmured their assent. The air was full of the sounds of happy chewing and drinking.

“The drink is marvelous as well, Adrian,” said Theresa. “What's in it?”

“It's called the 'Drinking Stones.' It's a mix of scotch, a part of Satisfaction, and a few other things.”

“Satisfaction? Is that a Brew?” said Alexandria, steadily.

“Yes,” said Adrian. He looked around, blinking. “Is that a problem? That's what people usually drink at events like this, I think. Gets the conversation flowing, people are more even tempered... it's a good drink for a dinner party.”

Calvin took a drink of his. He couldn't feel himself becoming more satisfied with the situation. He couldn't feel his tongue loosening and himself more prone to conversation. But, then again, he suspected he wouldn't, if his understanding of the brews as mainly chemical was correct.

Alexandria shook her head. “You could have asked us if we wanted brews before you served it to us.”

Adrian looked confused. “I asked you all whether you wanted a mixed drink,” he said. “What did you think I meant?”

“It's fine, really,” said Theresa. “The drink is wonderful, and it's not a problem at all.” She looked pleadingly at Alexandria.

Alexandria in turn looked at Calvin. Calvin had no idea what that meant. He decided to shake his head a bit, almost imperceptibly.

Alexandria went back with to her food. “I'm just not exactly comfortable with a drink manipulating how I'm feeling,” she said, fork in hand.

“I think I can understand that with some of the more powerful brews,” said Adrian, frowning. “But that's not really the case here. I think the chemical levels are comparable to the feeling of being pleasantly full. Which, I suppose, you'd get anyway, given this delicious meal.” He mimed a tip of his hat to Calvin, who nodded back.

“Then why have the brews?” said Alexandria. “If you're going to get this anyway, why do we need this Satisfaction stuff?”

“Well, that's what I'm saying,” said Adrian. “It's not a big deal. You're not really being manipulated that much. At the most it's just going to extend your feeling of comfort a little longer.” He took another swallow of his drink, which Calvin noticed was far less viscous than the other people's drinks. “But I'm sure I'm not the only one who has an opinion. Alexander, any thoughts on the whole manipulating aspect of the brews?” His smile was wide.

Alexander shifted in his seat. “The short answer is that I don't know,” he said, rubbing his neck. “But I imagine the effect would be a noticeable difference, but not, ah, an incongruous one.”

“Can you explain that?” said Miranda. “I'm not sure I understand it.”

Alexander nodded, and leaned forward. “It all has to do with the story you tell yourself inside your head. You know, how you interpret events around you. Everyone's story is a little different.”

“Example, dear,” said Theresa.

“Well, to take a really trivial one, let's say you're driving down the road, and the car in front of you cuts you off. The story you would tell yourself is that you were just driving perfectly fine, minding your own business, and then this jerk in front of you cut you off.”

Everyone nodded.

“But let's look at it from the other driver's perspective. The story he would tell himself is that you were driving slowly, and he was in a rush for something legitimately important. He wouldn't see himself as malicious or bad, necessarily. He would see himself as the good guy.”

Miranda looked at Adrian. Adrian smiled a bit, and raised his glass to her. She nodded, tight lipped, and addressed Alexander. “Do you think this would hold true for any level of cruelty?”

Alexander frowned. “I would imagine so,” he said hesitantly. “I've never been a serial killer.” Alexandria chuckled.

“Alexander's totally right about this,” said Calvin. “It's called the fundamental attribution error. It's a recognized psychological phenomenon.”

“But the brews,” Theresa insisted.

“Yes,” said Alexander. He took another drink. “The question is how those emotions fit into the story that we tell ourselves. The human mind is pretty good at incorporating random and semi-chaotic data into a cohesive thread, after all. Just look at our daily lives.”

“It certainly happens in relationships,” said Miranda. “Think about how girls-- guys too, I guess, but mostly girls-- can piece together a perfectly plausible love story just based on a few off hand remarks by the object of their affection.” She took another bite of the pasta, and continued. “You know-- he said this to me at a party, and looked at me in a certain way when we passed on the street, and one of your girlfriends told you that he was talking about you favorably... the next thing you know you're picking out wedding colors. There's not a lot to go on, but they can sure come up with some elaborate ideas.”

“And those theories are often laughably wrong about the whole thing,” said Alexandria. Theresa smiled.

“Anyway,” said Alexander, nervously, “when we would get those emotional surges, the brain would need to figure out some way to deal with them.” He took another drink. “If your life was objectively bad, for example, but you suddenly felt happy... you would need to re-interpret all those events that made you sad in the first place. You would need to find an, ah, reading of your life that would lead to a happy outcome instead of a sad one. It's the only way it would make sense to you.”

“In the same way that if you suddenly stopped liking a guy,” said Miranda, “you would re-interpret all those events that you initially thought were flirtations?”

“I assume so,” said Alexander.

“Interesting,” said Alexandria. “And how is that not manipulation?”

“I never said it wasn't,” said Alexander. “I did say that you would notice the effect, didn't I? I just said it wouldn't be incongruous. You would internally force those emotions to make sense.”

“But you're being manipulated into feeling something you wouldn't otherwise feel, and evaluate events differently than you normally would,” said Alexandria firmly.

“That happens all the time, though,” said Alexander. “Seriously, think about it! Every time you're having a bad day, or something, and your friends try to pull you out of it, they're trying to get you to tell yourself a different story about that day. Every time somebody flirts with you, you re-evaluate all your prior interactions with that person to include her interest. It happens all the time, and rarely under our direct control. It's not a problem that the brews do that, really.”

“It's ok,” said Alexandria. “Stop getting so defensive. Sheesh.”

Alexander raised her hands. “Sorry, Lex. And what do I know, really, this is mostly speculation.”

Adrian smiled at this. “So there's no problems? I'm just curious, given the way you all talk about it, have any of you had a brew before?”

“I haven't,” said Alexandria coolly, “and this one aside, I don't intend to ever again.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

“I have,” said Calvin, before Alexandria could elaborate. “But it's not something I would have again, unless offered.”

“Why is that?” said Adrian.

“Because they don't do anything for me,” Calvin said, flatly. “It's an unnecessary cost for no results.”

“You're a sociopath,” said Miranda, suddenly. Theresa gasped.

“I suppose, technically, a psychologist could diagnose me as a sociopath, yes,” Calvin said.

Alexandria looked puzzled. “Doesn't that mean you, like, kill people and stuff?”

Calvin lifted his hand slightly towards Miranda, inviting her to elaborate.

“No, it doesn't mean that,” said Miranda. “Killing people is often a consequence of being a sociopath, but not a necessary one.”

“So what does it mean,” said Theresa.

“It means, um, the parts in your brain that control emotion are drastically underdeveloped.”

“The brews, I imagine, work by chemically stimulating those areas.” said Calvin. “They don't affect me.”

“So you can't have any emotions at all?” asked Alexandria. “You can't feel happiness, joy... love? Or, um, sadness?”

“I don't feel them emotionally. Or if I do,” Calvin corrected himself. “I don't feel them to any large extent.”

“That's horrible,” Alexandria said, staring down at her mostly finished plate.

Calvin shrugged. “Life's a lot less messy.” He offered. “But there are other complications.”

“Such as?” said Theresa.

Again, Calvin deferred to Miranda. “Well, the biggest consequence would probably the lack of empathy,” she said.

“The what?” asked Alexander, astonished.

“Empathy,” said Miranda. “It's when you try to, um, feel what the other person is feeling. So if your cat died, or something, you would feel sad. And if I was empathizing with you, I would try to imagine what that felt like, and I would feel sad too.”

“I know what empathy is.” Alexander grumbled.

“It means you can't model other people correctly,” Adrian said. “Other people are wired to work with their emotions, and work off of their emotions. Since you don't have any, you have no idea what makes them, ah, tick.”

Calvin nodded. “That's a succinct way to put it.” Alexandria looked extremely thoughtful.

“Can we talk about something else?” said Theresa. There was a bit of silence.

“Do people have cool plans for Christmas break?” said Miranda.

“Yes, actually,” said Alexandria. Attention turned to her. “A friend of our parents has a cabin up in the mountains. By an alpine lake. It's gorgeous this time of year. We're going to, um, cabin-sit for him.”

“What does that mean?” said Theresa.

Alexander chipped in. “Well, this guy uses the cabin for hunting, mostly. But he wants the cabin to be clear of snow and ice, and all that before he gets there.”

“And he wants all the autumn dust and dirt cleaned up too,” said Alexandria.

“Yeah, and that,” said Alexander. “All the cleaning won't take more than a day or two, but he's going to let us stay there for as long as we want in exchange for our help. Until he gets there, I mean.”

“It sounds amazing,” said Miranda.

“We'll probably go right after Christmas and stay out there for a week or so,” said Alexandria.

There was silence, for a time. Calvin got up. “I'll take your plates, and start to clean up. No, it's ok, Theresa, don't get up, I can do it.” Theresa sat back down.

Miranda checked her phone. “I think I better get going,” she said. “Thanks for a great evening, and thanks for hosting, Theresa and Calvin. This was a lot of fun, and I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“Oh, you're very welcome, dear,” said Theresa. They embraced, and Miranda walked towards the door. A moment later, Alexander stood up and followed her.

Calvin went into the kitchen, bearing dishes. Alexandria gathered a few up as well, and followed him in, leaving Adrian and Theresa in the dining room by themselves.

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