2 body problem

A 2 BODY PROBLEM

“Whoever reads this, I want them to know I was the first to figure it out. It was me, J. Luis Zabala. I was the first, so whatever happens in the near future or in the long future ahead, it was me who figured it out. I want that to be known for posterity. I want it to be known and recognized in the history books.

Neither the Crays at Langley nor those at the J. Edgar Hoover building for the FBI got the answer before me. I am smarter and faster than the Crays—believe it, because it is true. I, J Luis Zabala, am at the epicenter of all that follows. Good or bad, I want everyone to understand how I did it. My analysis is irrefutable— how I determined what was happening and how it all unfolded. It is all true.

I am not going to place blame or point fingers at who started this thing. I do not know what the results will show when the word gets out. Could it be beneficial or a disaster? I have no way of knowing. I am ringing the bell to indicate a possible fire. I am not ringing the bell for the last lap of a race or the human race, for that matter, although that is possible.

Ok, so here it is. I can explain how it came to be, thanks to Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos. Two of the richest people by far in the world. They had the capabilities to make the path. They started it all with their reusable rockets and determination to push mankind to consider traveling to the stars. A nice dream. We all like a challenge, and the possibilities of exploration could usher in a new age for Earth. It could also be like the Caravels arriving in the New World. Columbus, the poor guy who misjudged history, was just looking for a faster way to India. He wasn’t a Conquistador…that came later, much later. Yet they blame him and rewrite history. I do not want that to happen here.

Reader, I am transgressing—I need to get this down in writing. Sometimes I am scatterbrained; at 80, I can be quite forgetful. I apologize for getting away from my subject.

Where was I ?... Yes, at my age, I am 80 and forgetful. Yes, it was Musk and Bezos and their rockets. Even though they were reusable, it was still expensive to launch satellites and do research in Space. They came up with this idea to help defray the cost of the launches. Shit!, I digress again. I know it came from a science fiction book or movie. I just cannot remember the name. It was like from Ray Bradbury or Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Cixin Liu, Andrew Weir, maybe Frank Herbert. One of those guys or girls said that if “you die and you leave behind your DNA, like a snippet of your hair, a piece of your skin or bone, a vial of your blood, you are really not dead.”Your DNA survives until you can be reconstituted. Like in Jurassic Park. You can live again.

So, to help with the costs of sending rockets into Space, both Musk, who thought of it first, and SpaceX provided small, lightweight, strong aluminum canisters that could hold a small vial of your blood, a lock of your hair, skin, or bone. These all showed your DNA. For $1000.00 USD, they would provide you with the canister, which you would use to store your DNA samples. You could also include a USB flash drive with photos of your life. For another $250.00, you could get a good seat to watch the launch of the rocket that would launch you (your DNA) into Space. Hundreds of thousands jumped at the chance to become immortal. It

is still going on today, some 25 years after the first launch that took the cannisters into space. Over 1 million cannisters and counting.

Supposedly, NASA or Blue Origin figured out when to release the canisters in a trajectory that would take them to the edge of our solar system. They went fast enough, even though it would take at least 20 years to reach the end of our solar system. At that point, no one knew what would happen. It was more than a fad, as it continues to happen today. I think the idea that somehow, they are still alive is quite alluring to many people. A long shot bet at best! An extreme long shot, but who knows. Someone has won the Spanish Gordo Lottery or the Powerball lottery as it passes 1 billion dollars.

So, there you have it, Musk and Bezos have sent over a million of these DNA-holding cannisters into Space and continue to do so. The cost now is over $ 2,500.00 USD to arrange a DNA canister.

So, what is the big deal? The government hasn’t let it out, yet they are trying to get a handle on the problem. Just how big and wide is the situation? I get distracted in my old age. This is what happened how I found out what was going on.

We were traveling from Monterey, California, to Texas. My wife, Joni, and I had never seen the Alamo or the famous Menger Hotel, nor the Emma Hotel and Bar, which had become the new attraction since the War with China. That was more than 2 decades ago. We stayed at the Emma Hotel and went to the famous Lobby Bar. We were talking about how nice Texas and San Antonio were when a group of people came in and sat down on the sofa and chairs with a coffee table next to ours. I saw my younger brother was part of that group. Only he looked about 40 years old. I tried to listen quietly to what they were talking about. When he finally answered a question, I was stunned. He looked exactly like my younger brother and spoke just like my younger brother. I remember his appearance and his voice. It was then that it shook me hard. I was confused. I asked my wife quietly..” Joni, do you see that man over at the next table? He looks exactly like my younger brother Jay! He even talks like him. She listened and confirmed he was a dead ringer and also talked like him as far as she could remember.

“Those are just coincidences, maybe someone related to you or your family a long time ago, and the features come out in a future generation that has similar features. He looks to be in his 40s.”

It was not similar. It was exactly like my younger brother in every way possible. I observed him and listened to him and his group. I could not hear everything in the conversation, even with my hearing aids, but it still struck me that he was my younger brother.

We had a dinner reservation at another restaurant, so we needed to leave. I took out my cell phone and surreptitiously snapped some photos of him pretending to take photos of the famous historical bar. I got some good facial shots. Even some side body shots.

While we waited for our waiter, the waiter for their group came to announce their table was ready. They all stood up and followed the waiter out of the Emma Hotel restaurant to eat at the famous “Supper Restaurant.” I went over their table, taking photos as I went, and picked up the glass where the imposter sat. I was careful to use the paper napkin not to smudge any fingerprints or DNA smudges. I was hoping no one was looking. We paid the bill quickly, a minute later. The waiter said nothing but “Thank You!”

Joni was mad as hell at me, but I didn’t budge an inch.

“You could have been caught shoplifting!”

“I gave our waiter 30% tip. Besides, no one was looking. I am telling you something ain’t right. That was my younger brother!”

“Well, he did not recognize you! So, I do not see anything but the possibility that he is a distant relative with your distinct features.

“Well, how about a clone then? He could be a clone, he is exactly like my younger brother!”

“Highly unlikely since it is currently against the Law. Someone would surely know about it and advise the authorities if that type of practice was going on.”

We did not talk about it again the rest of the evening. Even though it was gnawing at me.

The next day, my wife and a few friends who lived in San Antonio met for a full day of shopping, eating, and, of course, drinking some good wine. Left to my own devices, I headed directly to the Helotes, Texas, police dept. I figured the local Police would be too busy to entertain an octogenarian. I might get a better reception at a small South Texas suburb.

I drove out about a half hour away, walked in, and asked to see the chief. He was not in, and only 1 officer was manning the office. There were only 5 officers in the entire Helotes police force.

I looked him in the eye, showed him my photos, and I had a copy of his obituary thanks to Google.

“Hymph” was all he said. I showed him my bag with the glass my “brother” had used. I took out 2 cotton tips from a plastic bag and put them in another safety bag. Do you think you can get these analyzed for a DNA match?

“Let me get this straight, you think this is your long-lost dead brother come back to life?”

I shook my head, “Yes!”

“Let me see the obituary again.” Your younger brother?

“Yes, we are identical twins. I was born first he came about 2 minutes later. He passed away at 40 years old.”

“I see the resemblance. Interesting. Hmph!”

In what way? He was one of those guys who sent his DNA into outer space. It says here in the obituary near the bottom.

That’s when it hit me! Not hard, just the light bulb going on. A connection made.

“I will tell you what Mr. L Luis Zabala. I will send it to the FBI office here in San Antonio. Ask them to confirm whether the DNAs match. I will not tell them what for or why, just check if they match. These tests are fast and cheap nowadays. Take my card and call me in the afternoon.”

I left on a high note and drove back to the hotel on the Riverwalk. I was early to bed, anxious to see if the DNA matched.

The next morning, I am eating breakfast, listening to my wife give all the details of yesterday's happenings with the girls.

A man in a nice suit calls my name while approaching our table. “Mr. J. Luis Zabala. Can I talk with you for a minute?”

Joni looks at my eyes wide open as if to say What did you do now as an old geezer. “Honey, why don’t you go to the room and freshen up! I will text you when we are done.” She quietly gets up and moves away without looking back at me. I know she is upset with me.

“Well, Mr. J. Luis Zabala, I am Special Agent Douglas Adams, FBI.” I nod my head. “I know why you are here.”

"You do? Why not tell us why?"

“My DNA matched with my dead brother.” A quick but firm reply that answered the question.

“Hmmph, would you like to come with us to our local office for a while to discuss this further?”

“No, not really. I am on vacation with my wife in your fine City. At 80 years old, my time is precious. My wife, as you probably noticed, is not a happy camper at the moment. You are getting paid for what you do. If I am going to help you, I also need to get paid.” I have always had a low opinion of many government workers. I needed them to know I wasn’t going to be a pushover.

“I understand your point. How about we arrange another 4-day visit to San Antonio for you and your wife? Let’s say 6 months from now.

“Agreed! I pulled out my pen and wrote the agreement on the white paper napkin. I signed it and gave it to Special Agent Douglas Adams.

He laughed briefly. Then signed the document.

I got up out of the chair. “Ok, good, now you will have to pay for the breakfast. My wife doesn’t allow me to use any form of credit without her authorization.”

The FBI Agent smiled. “Of course! Happy to do so!" He made a hand signature to pay to another person at the restaurant entrance. Standing now, I looked around. There were 5 agents standing at the access points and 1 behind Agent Douglas Adams.

"Overkill and a waste of taxpayer money for an 80-year-old geezer, no?

“Remains to be seen, J Luis Zabala. Please follow us. We have a driver outside the main entrance waiting.”

It was a good reply to put me on notice. Just how far I could go without overstepping. I had been warned.

Upon arrival at the FBI office, we were escorted to a nice conference room. Of the original 6 agents at the restaurant, only Agent Douglas was in attendance. There were now 4 other agents sitting at the table. There was a video camera in the corner.

I did not say anything, waiting for Agent Adams to start.

“We have a conundrum. Mr. Zabala here has confirmed our own findings. We have a DNA match that is inconsistent with the basic facts we have. The simple logical answer is either cloning or enhanced plastic surgery. However, your DNA matches each other’s. I do not see any other option or alternative answer to this situation. We are currently looking for this younger gentleman in all the tourist areas of San Antonio, hotels, motels, Airbnb, restaurants, bars…all of these places where our visitor may be staying, so we can talk with him.”

I raised my hand to speak. “Not to diminish your 2 selections, but did you apply all the facts at hand and ask your supercomputers to give their response?”

“We did Mr. Zabala, these were the first 2 responses. The 3rd one was you, being an older gentleman, who could not see as well as you claim in seeing your brother. You also wear hearing aids, which affects your voice recognition.

There were a few laughs, and I did as well.

“It is a valid point, but I have a better viewpoint than your computers and yourselves as agents. I saw what I saw. My viewpoint is exactly what I saw.”

“I am not doubting your Mr. Zabala. The DNA results are accurate. We both would not be here if we had an answer. A conundrum still exists if we cannot find your little brother.”

“Special Agent Douglas Adams, did you read my brother's obituary? “Yes, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.”

“You overlooked my brother’s participation in sending his DNA into Space some 40 years ago in 1 of Elon Musk’s rockets!”

Agent Douglas laughed, as did a few others at the table.

Actually, we did. We included it in a global search for similar instances. The computers found 3 other instances over 50 years ago. Do you know what they found?”

“I am all ears, Agent Douglas.”

“They found a hereditary connection between the people. The physical appearance reappears in later generations.” That was the 4th answer from our Cray computers.” I felt as if I had been hit by a bullet train. It was more likely that was the answer, just as the wife had said. Now I felt stupid.

“I cannot reject the logic that that was a more likely scenario than my alien invasion theory.” Everyone at the table laughed, and I did as well. I shrugged in compliance with the computer results

“Can someone take me back to my hotel?”

“We can accommodate you, Mr. Zavala. Agent Catttermole will drive you back.”

“Thanks, Sorry to be a pain. I must be getting old, or my IQ is 80!”

"No harm done, Mr. J Luis Zabala. We will send you a voucher for a return visit to San

Antonio. Good luck and many travels.”

“Thank you, Agent Douglas Adams.”

That night, I sat eating dinner at our hotel, telling my wife of my FBI experience. She was

amused at my downfall. “Cheer up, dear, I had the right answer than the Cray Computers!” Tell me, though, about the agents who sat in.

“There were 5 others. They never spoke; they just laughed occasionally. 1 was African, another Japanese, a Chinese man, a blonde European woman, and an Australian guy.

A Virtual Olympic gathering.”

“Interesting, maybe being trained in some new FBI thing. Otherwise, why would you need these people in on such an obvious, trivial subject?”

My wife was insightful. That's when the light bulb went on again.