The Risk Expert

My name is Darryl Delaney. I am 36 years old, and I live in Hartford, Connecticut, but I currently reside in the Connecticut Valley Hospital where I am assumed to be criminally insane. I am making this statement of my own free will.

I know some people think I am insane. Others think I am working with a terrorist organization. Neither of these is true. What I am explaining in this statement is the simple truth, as I remember it. No one believes me, but hopefully someone will eventually read it and see the truth for what it is.

Everything was normal until I turned 30. I was married, without children, and I worked for a reinsurance company. On the day of my 30th birthday, I was in a meeting room discussing the risks associated with covering most of Pennsylvania, and the high number of nuclear power plants in that state. I have some specific engineering expertise, which was the value I brought to the discussion.

I had already made my statements and presented my risk calculations, and I was listening with interest to the other types of exposure in the state, when I saw something move in the corner of the room. Turning to look at it directly, I saw a large, shiny red lizard who was listening intently. Whenever the speaker mentioned risks associated with energy production, the lizard’s bright blue forked tongue shot out for a few seconds.

The lizard must have been about eight feet from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail. Nobody else seemed to notice him. I caught the eye of my friend Jack across the table, and nodded towards the lizard. Jack followed my gaze to the corner of the room, then looked back at me, confused. It wasn’t the confusion of someone who had just seen a giant red lizard in a meeting room. It was the confusion of someone who didn’t know what I was looking at. I shook my head and looked down.

We had cake that morning to celebrate my birthday. Had it been laced with some psychoactive drug? Surely not, or Jack and others would have been affected. Was I having a psychotic break? That seemed plausible, but nothing else was amiss. Just the lizard, paying close attention to the discussion, and now looking over at me from time to time. I decided to ignore it. I started taking notes, so I could keep my eyes on the notepad in front of me.

So it was a surprise when I heard a voice behind me say quietly “Can you see me, Darryl?”

I instinctively looked at the corner of the room. No lizard. I dropped my pen on the floor then bent to pick it up, looking behind me as I did so. There was the huge red lizard. Up close, his scales were beautiful, dark red and shiny. His throat and belly were black, as were his horns. Yes, he had horns on his head. Four of them. His blue tongue flicked out again. I gave a little wave, then sat back up.

“The meeting’s about over, Darryl. Let’s go outside and talk.” Did the lizard just ask for a face to face? As psychotic breaks go, this one was a doozy. I shuffled my papers and my laptop, and excused myself, pointing to my watch. Once outside the room, I leaned against the wall. The lizard walked past me and strode confidently towards the stairwell. I followed, feeling ridiculous.

We stopped on a landing between floors in the stairwell. The lizard stood on his back feet and took something that looked suspiciously like an e-cig and put it in his mouth. “You’re a bit of an inconvenience, Darryl,” he said, “I’m supposed to be invisible to humans.”

Nonchalantly standing there, vaping, and speaking in a distinctly English accent, he seemed to be waiting for me to say something. Like an idiot, I said “You’re not human then?”

The lizard looked down at his body, then stared at me quizzically. “Errr, no, not really. Ten out of ten for perception there, mate.”

I was not about to be bullied by a hallucination created by my own mind. “Well then, who are you, and what are you doing here? We don’t have any non-humans working here. There would’ve been a memo from HR.”

The lizard choked on his e-cig, and then held out a large webbed front foot. “I’m P-p-pkklsch. But you can call me Phil. I’m here on reconnaissance. Supposed to be invisible. We’re watching a disaster unfold here.”

I was unsure what to do with the proffered front foot, so I tried to fist-bump it. It was sort of squishy, and Phil seemed startled by the sensation. We nodded at each other, the way men do when they’re not sure how they feel about each other.

“What disaster would that be, Phil? Did we discuss it in that meeting?” I was trying to make up for my earlier foolishness. Even if this was a delusion, I could try to make sense of it like an adult. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the big red lizard.

Phil dropped his eyes and nodded. “Yes. It’s going to be the big one. Your summary was spot-on by the way. And the stuff Maria had on the coal mines was good too. And yet, with all the people in that room agreeing that there’s a disaster imminent, no one is doing anything to stop it. Why not?”

I thought about that. “It’s not what we’re here for, Phil. Our job is to assess the risk and see if we want to spread it further or accept it ourselves. The government has to deal with managing the rules and processes to prevent it.”

Phil tutted and shook his head. “When this – let’s be honest – cataclysmic event occurs, Darryl, there won’t be anyone around to settle the claims. Or any banking system to pay them from. You chaps know all about it. You should be alerting your government, telling them what you know.”

That’s when I started to believe Phil was real. He was an observer from outside our world, watching us let it self-destruct. I asked him, “Phil, where are you from, exactly? And why don’t you talk to our government if you think they can prevent a catastrophe?”

“More than my job’s worth, mate,” said Phil. “I shouldn’t technically be telling you, but someone else messed up and you can see me. I like you, and I suggest you do something about it. You have the data, and you’re human. They may listen to you.”

With that, he tucked away his e-cig, said “Well, my shift is over. I’m going home now. Nice meeting you. Enjoy the rest of your life.” And then he simply vanished. No special effects, no gradual fade, no smoke or noises. He was just gone.

I do have the data. I broke my NDA with the company and started telling everyone about the risk. I spoke to the press, I went to Washington, I did podcasts, and nobody would listen. My company fired me. My wife had a problem with me talking about huge red lizards, and she filed for divorce. The FBI and a bunch of other government organizations interviewed me, but they didn’t want to hear my story. They wanted to know who I was working for. They accused me of treason, of terrorism, and so on. I was locked up and examined by whole teams of psychiatrists.

Now everything is starting to go critical in Pennsylvania, and no one will listen. They’re determining whether I’m sane enough to stand trial. I hope so. That will be my last chance to warn people before I’m put away for the rest of my life.

I truly wish I’d never met Phil. I’d rather not know about this. But Phil, if you’re out there, and you remember our chat, I’d be interested in being rescued before the whole thing blows up. A friend of mine will be released this week, and he’s promised to put this out on the internet for me. Does the internet reach your end of the galaxy?

Darryl Delaney

August 28th 2032