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Dr. Henry Harris
Doctor Harris vomited. They were silent outside, the corporal and the others. Dr. Harris had just been on a ship for four months getting out here. One of them cleared their throat. He could hear through the door. Dr. Harris shook his head, vomited again, and wiped his mouth. He had to clear almost a year of his schedule to fly out here. Clear it in two weeks. Birthdays, vacations. His son would be 11 by the time he was back on planet, and to say that they asked him to come out implied that he had any choice. He sat and caught his breath to take a minute. In between hibernation sickness and being thrown into whatever the reason, he had been called onto asteroid Y3. Luckily he could bill hourly for time spent in hibernation. The door stuck as Harris slid it haltingly open. Harris nodded at the men in his wrinkled cotton shirt and his tweed blazer. It wasn't just the corporal now he recognized the base commander from the research he did on his flight up to orbit. Lieutenants, probably. If Harris was being honest, he never really cracked the code of the hierarchy for the armed forces. They didn't seem to care that he didn't know what they were. In fact, he treated them, and they treated him with the same level of disdain and distrust. It worked in its own way. He's right this way at Westenberg. Corporal Westenberg, 5' 11 kid from Detroit. He did training about two years ago. They looked through the one way glass at Corporal Westenberg. He was just staring. Staring forward, unblinking, unmoving. He does this all day. He's asked to be discharged. Harris facepalmed. Okay, so a kid from Detroit, what, goes into space and suddenly gets very meditative? This was why he had to miss his son's birthday. It's not just that he's calm, Doctor, the commander chimed in from the back. It's he thinks He's a plant. Dr. Harris blinked. What? From Jason and Carissa Weiser, the creators of Myths and Legends. This is fictional. Harris pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his face. So, Corporal, why do you think you're a plant? Harris said, setting down his hollow pad and digging through his jacket pocket. Sir, I am a plant. Harris nodded. Okay. And you've always been a plant. Westburg shook his head. Now. It was a recent change. And before. Before I was just like you. The rest of you, westenberg said with a half smile, betraying no emotion at all. How about a cigarette, Corporal? Dr. Harris brought up two cigarettes with lighters. There was a buzz at the door behind him, and the base commander came rushing in. What did Harris think he was doing? This was an oxygen rich environment. He snatched the lighter and a cigarette from Dr. Harris Hand, sneered and left. Harris smirked and looked over his shoulder to the mirror behind them. The commander didn't know how he managed to get a lighter past the scanners. He said with a smile and then looked back to Westenberg. Nothing. He just stared forward. No trace of a crack of a grin or outrage or embarrassment. He just kept staring forward. Harris picked his pad back up so Westenberg had to understand how this sounded turning into a plant. I realize how it sounds, sir, but I am a plant. Westenberg stated. Okay, so help me out here. When you say you're a plant, can you not move? Are you a vegetable as opposed to a human animal? Or just like. What do you mean? Harris's pad kept up with his speech and thought, I can't tell you anymore. Westenburg said, I'm sorry, sir. There was a slight tinge to his voice which said to Harris that he was in fact sorry. It's fine for me. It's fine for me. You can be whatever you want. The army might need more. But can you at least tell me how you became a plant? I can't even tell you that, sir, Westenberg said, looking out the window, adding, I promised I would not. Promised who? Whom is it? Who or whom? I can never remember. Dr. Harris riffed a bit to see if he could catch Westenberg off guard at all. I can't even tell you that, sir. Once again, I'm sorry. Dr. Harris shrugged. Cool. He had just taken a three month flight for a plant man. He kept that to himself, but nodded at Westenberg and left. Let him go. I want to see what he does, Harris said to the commander and the garrison chief after he left the room with Westenberg. They said they couldn't just let him go. Is he a threat? Has he tried to hurt anyone? Dr. Harris asked. He already knew the answer. No. Westenberg had done nothing. Like literally nothing. He put it in to be discharged, but before that he just stopped his duties. He stopped patrolling, stopped his terraforming work. He sits in the sun, the garrison chief said. Everyone noticed it when he was supposed to be working on the jets. It was sunset and he was still out there, so they found him sitting in the grass. He said work was unnatural. The only worthwhile thing was to sit outside in the sun and contemplate. The doctors on base asked him where he got that idea after he was arrested for dereliction of duty. That was when he revealed that he had become a plant. And you've been holding him for four months? Dr. Harris shook his head. We gave him a room with a window. He seemed alright, the garrison chief noted. Harris said they brought him here. They could either trust his expertise or find somebody else. Let him go. Let him stay in his room. Give him some sort of leave of absence. Who cares what anybody else says, right? Don't all you military guys have to follow your orders? Just give me time to work. Dr. Harris walked the hallway and looked down at the garrison. It had been years since he had been out this far. They had come a long way. The garrison was an important stop for ships traveling to and from deeper in space. Outside the Belt you could use warp drives, but everything from Mars in was effectively quarantined. There were stations all along the belt, terraformed asteroids. They scanned any ships entering the Belt for, well, anything. Bacteria, fungi, whatever Terran imaginations could dream of because, well, literally everything was out there. A man thinking himself a plant would be cause for mental health treatment on Earth. But this wasn't Earth. In the barracks they hovered just outside the synthetic atmosphere of the asteroid. The garrison scanned the incoming ships, and any suspect material or persons were quarantined at a separate site in the vacuum of space. The people who worked below were themselves scanned and decontaminated before they returned to the barracks after each shift. They should have kept him on the surface of the asteroid. It was probably a psychotic break. But if it was more than that, if Westenberg had truly changed. Send him back down, harris said to the commander when he returned from his walk of the station. The commander said, absolutely not. That was a military inspection site protecting the safety of Earth and Mars. You might have already compromised everyone on the station. It's only safe to observe him there, where apparently he became a plant. This is ridiculous. I should have never let him out of his cell. I'm going to court martial him back to Earth. Really? Harris said, glancing down the steel tube of a hull. He turned back to the commander. Do you want to be responsible? For what? Another wub? How about Lester Herrick? The commander's eyes widened and Harris breathed. Harris had heard the stories reading around the redacted bits from the reports they had access to. Something called a wub had infiltrated a merchant ship. It took the form of a Captain Grisly Death that he jumped into a lion enclosure as the army closed in. Barely enough left at him to identify. Then there was Lester Herrick. Harris, like most familiar with the case, was certain the man wasn't who he said he was. The trial became too public, though, and they had to acquit. Suspicions were all but confirmed. When traveling off planet for vacation, he and his wife disappeared completely. Fine, the commander said through gritted teeth. But if there was an outbreak down there, there were methods they had for controlling such things, making difficult decisions. Like torching an entire garrison from space was part of his job as commander. When it comes to you, though, that might help make the decision a little easier. The commander smiled. Dr. Harris, for his part, was glad he hadn't unpacked. He was headed for the surface of Garrison Y3 by the end of the following week. Dr. Harris was certain it was nothing. They let Westenburg have freedom to wander around the garrison so they could observe him. At night. He was completely catatonic, not moving at all. In the day, he ate an early meal and simply sat in the sun all day. By day five, Harris was confident he could approach Westenberg without interfering with the observation. He found Westenberg sitting on a rock, smiling. You're really gonna give it all up? You went to school on Earth for years to become a patrolman. Out here you beat out thousands for a spot. You have benefits, a pension. You're gonna leave all that behind? Yes. His confidence didn't shake Harris. Harris had seen this before. He put his hand back and felt the soft grass, leaning to take in the sun himself. So, okay, do you have time for a little thought experiment? Harris asked. Westenberg said he had nothing but time. Okay, say everyone thinks the same as you. They all just want to sit in the sun all day. Forget Earth. What would happen here? The gate would break down. Bacteria, fungi, organisms from deep space that no one had ever seen before. Life forms. They would come flooding in. It would cause mass death and suffering. Right. If everyone felt the same way as you. If everyone felt the same way I did, they wouldn't even go into outer space, westenberg said, eyes still closed and face still pointed toward the sun. But they have to, harris replied. Go to space. To explore, to trade, to mine planets, to why? Westenberg said, still not opening his eyes. To keep society going, harris rejoined. He could feel his control of the conversation beginning to slip away. He didn't like that feeling. Why? So we can survive, thrive. So I mean, people can't live without society, harris said, his assertion almost, almost a question. Living, westenberg said, opening his eyes and looking across the field to the line of ships waiting to get through the checkpoint, to the people pulling mandatory double, triple shifts to keep commerce and materials from the outer worlds flowing into Earth and Mars, Doctor. It's likely. You've seen my file and you know my history. Westenberg closed his eyes again. He wasn't wrong. Harris combed through it before bed last night for the 15th time. I have worked so hard. Harris knew what he meant. To some on Earth, a job like this would be an expectation. Where Westenburg was born, between 12 hour shifts in the smog, he could have gone months without seeing the sun. But he worked. He worked very hard. He excelled at school. He paid his way through college, and when he joined up, he worked even harder. He was a leader of people 10 years older than him here and on a path to become a commander and even a general someday for someone like Westenberg. Now there was no ceiling. You know what I think now, after all that, Westenberg said, I wish I had become a plant sooner. That was all Harris needed to hear. This was nothing. Well, not nothing. It was a pretty intense and persistent psychotic break that jeopardized a Garrison's mission and as such, the safety of the settled worlds. But that's all it was. A lot had been asked of Westenberg. He had to struggle too much. It didn't speak to a weakness in Westenberg, but to the society. They did all this for when it could do this to people. What kind of life was that? Indeed, what were they doing all of this for? Harris had to admit, Y3 was beautiful. Dr. Harris was doing well back on Earth, and even he barely managed to see the sun around the omnipresent haze that enveloped the planet. They had trees here, the grass. He honestly, he understood would that he could stay himself. But with such a clear diagnosis, he could be on the next shuttle home. It was only August back on Earth. He might even make it by his son's winter break. He copied over most of the report from a previous patient, swapping out the other details. Idealized goal, Overwhelming stress, psychotic episode, blah, blah, blah. Then his phone began blinking. He had it silenced so he could hammer this out. But he had five. Five new messages. It was the base commander. There were five more. Five more people who had become plan. And the changes don't stop there. But that will be right after this. Hi, Zoe Saldana. Welcome to T Mobile. Here's your new iPhone 16 Pro on us. Thanks. And here's my old phone to trade in. You don't need a trade in when you switch to T Mobile. We'll give you a new iPhone 16 Pro. Plus we'll help you pay off your old phone. Up to 800 bucks and you still get to keep it. There's always a trade in. Not right now. At T Mobile. I feel like I have to give you something in return for karma. That's okay. I don't really have much in my purse. Oh, let's see. Hand sanitizer. It's lavender. I'm good. Seriously. Let me check this pocket. Oh, mints. Really, I'm fine. Oh, I have raisins. I'm a mom. Wait, wait one sec. I've got cupcakes in the car. It's our best iPhone offer ever. Switch to T Mobile, get a new iPhone 16 Pro with Apple Intelligence on us. No trade in needed. We'll even pay off your phone up to 800 bucks with 24 monthly bill credits. New line $100 plus a month on experience beyond Finance Agreement $999.99 and qualify imported for well qualified plus tax and $10 connection charge. Pay off via virtual prepaid card. Allow 15 days credits end and balance due if you pay off early or cancel. See t mobile.com this summer Instacart is bringing back your favorites from 1999 with prices from 1999. That means 90s prices on juice pouches that ought to be respected, 90s prices on boxed Mac and cheese, and 90s prices on ham ch cracker lunches. Enjoy all those throwbacks and more at throwback prices only through Instacart. $4.72 maximum discount per $10 of eligible items. Limit 3 offers per order expiration September 5th while supplies last discount based on CPI comparison. By the end of the week there were 20 cases. Commander Cox and Dr. Harris looked at them. 16 men and 4 women, Westenberg out there among them all sitting by a stream in the sun, completely still. The next garrison chief, Alric Deutsch, was down there, who, like Westenburg, had been working his whole life. He was now sitting down there in the sun. The head of personnel, Ms. Smith, sat next to him, the janitor next to her, a secretary next to him, fresh out of school. It was all types. Cox demanded answers. Rumor had it there were three more on the way. Harris took a deep breath. He might have something. He asked the commander to follow him. Are you familiar with the shock box, Commander? Dr. Harris asked, bringing him to an empty room with a metal pillar next to a hospital bed. Cox said he heard things here and there. It sounded it needs a branding change because it doesn't hurt. We all have to do it in school, harris said and told the light to turn off. Shock box on, Harris said, and Dr. Robert Bradshaw formed in the light of the table. Dr. Harris walked onto the scene, the one from the recording, and was talking to someone just out of view about Dr. Bradshaw's sedation. The shock box simply uses electricity to bypass the conscious areas of the brain. It's used in therapy when we think people are being defensive, harris said. They usually did it conscious and the patient usually found themselves saying things they would never say, but deep down they knew were true. So why is he sedated? Commander Cox asked. Dr. Harris said it was a necessity. It was the only way they could get anything out of them across the board. These people here, they were strong. They stood up to every line of questioning about being a plant. They seemed like they were unbreakable. Can you hear me, Dr. Bradshaw? Dr. Harris of the hologram said from an appointment earlier in the week. Yes. What is your name? Robert C. Bradshaw. What is your position? He was the Chief Biologist on Y3. He was in a hospital because he admitted that he had become a plant. Harris asked if it was true and the sedated Bradshaw froed his brow. He said yes, but not in a biological sense. In the psychological way, to some extent. Harris shook his head and then asked, how? How did he gain the psychology of a plant? Bradshaw winced. On the table. He gritted his teeth. He's fighting it. The real life, harris pointed out on the hologram. Strong conflict. The hologram. Harris motioned for his assistant to turn up the shockbox. I was taught to become a plant. Bradshaw was still wincing. Who? Who taught you? And the others? Bradshaw screamed. Harris looked out of frame and nodded. The Pipers. Bradshaw screamed. Who are the Pipers? Harris said. But Bradshaw bit down. Foam started coming out the edge of his mouth. Shut it down. Harris yelled and prepared an injection before pulling a lever on the wall. The image cut out as the crash cart rushed into the room. He was fine. Commander Cox stood there wide eyed. Don't do that again. Harris nodded. Understood. Do they all say that? Commander Cox asked when he regained his composure. Dr. Harris said no. The most he dared to push this far past out. He only got one word, Piper's, out of three of them. Whatever it was, they wouldn't give up that name. Harris pinched the bridge of his nose. So it's delusions if they're not biological plants. Commander Cox started but didn't know where to go from there. Harris said no. As much as he wanted that to be true, the shockbox, it paralyzed the nervous system. All their inhibitions stopped cold. They tell the truth as they see it, and they were all the same. Commander Cox asked what was Harris saying then? Harris said that it was out there in the woods on Y3. The piper. It was making people believe on a fundamental level that they were plants. What sort of asteroid has a forest on it? Harris asked Larry Watts, the third garrison chief in as many weeks. This one I don't know. This is my fourth day on the job, larry said. Harris had dug into the records of Y3. It was bigger than any other asteroid in the sector and evidently had a core of metal which gave it a gravity that mimicked Earth because. Okay, sure, and somehow it had plant life. Now, plant life was nothing new, but an old growth forest was. After they put the atmosphere in place, it only required a bit of tweaking to make it livable for humans. It was the ideal outpost. Until people started thinking they were plants. Larry frowned. It was 30 out of 300. He shook his head. Commander Cox was too soft on them. It's all poppycock. They were playing hooky. They were layabouts, boondogglers, gold brickers. Period. Specific lingo aside, the garrison was in trouble. 10% might not sound like a lot, and there were redundancies to ensure things kept moving. But if too many more walked away from their jobs, well, the cracks were already beginning to show. This was a military operation keeping the rest of the system safe. These people were awol. Look, I'm here on behalf of the military. You don't need to convince me, harris said. But for his money, these people were telling the truth. They weren't simply gold bricking boondogglers or whatever other 1950s lingo Larry used to describe them. They actually thought they were plants. Well, we have to do something, the chief said. Man, I wish it was the old days when I could just beat people. Harris pretended like he didn't hear that last bit. He asked, on Mars and the others, they had found natives. The report said that there were some here. Larry reclined in his seat. Yep. They live out in the forests. They're harmless, though. They're not your pipers. How do you know? Larry said. The original team that landed here had extensive contact with them and nothing came of it. They even taught the people English. They're primitive, though. They walk around naked. Like I said, they're not these pipers. They couldn't manipulate a top flight biologist into thinking he's a plant. Dr. Harris stood still. Whatever was happening, it led back to the forest. Could he go take a look around? Larry shrugged, pointing out the window. The commander said Harris had free rein. Free reign is free reign. He would get A soldier to take Harris out there. Harris said, no. Thanks, but no. He could put himself in danger, but he wouldn't put it on that soldier, too. Larry said, great. He literally did not care. He pointed again to the forest out the window. That was the way in. If Harris kept walking in that direction for about six hours, he would find himself. Larry spun around, pointing at the other horizon, at the row of ships waiting to be scanned about there. It's a small asteroid. An hour after he began his walk. Walk, Harris took off his jacket. He hadn't spent this much time outside since he arrived. The sun wasn't too hot so far out on the asteroid, but Jupiter more than made up for it. It filled the sky and reflected the sun's rays down. Harris looked around at a forest that in itself was new. There hadn't been a forest on Earth in years. He was surrounded by trees that seemed like they would reach up and touch Jupiter. Moss and fern softened the landscape, and eyes followed him with every step and wait. He blinked and they were gone. He stepped from his singular trajectory and followed the eyes into the forest. When he made it far enough into the shade, he heard a roar, but not one of a beast. A waterfall churned up ahead. Harris wondered if he was the first human to see it. He was far enough out and far enough off the straight path. He stood there in awe for a few moments longer and then turned. That's when he spotted her. The story uses a lot of words to describe how beautiful the alien woman was. And if you look up the story on Project Gutenberg, there's a picture of her reclining seductively on a rock by the water waterfall, in an image that was probably designed to appeal to a very specific demographic in the 1950s and 60s. When she noticed him staring kind of a lot, Dr. Harris Cheeks ignited in shame. I'm so sorry. I'm from the Garrison. I was just admiring the. The waterfall. She nodded with a smile. He cocked an eyebrow. Wait. You don't mind? No, she said. The story goes on to describe the water glistening on her arms and, yes, thighs. We will not do that. Harris sat back. He wanted to find a native. And he found one. She spoke Terran, too. We've been having a problem back at the Garrison. Something is happening to our people. It seems to be spreading. If she knew anything, it wasn't obvious from her face. Harris continued. We've found out a few things. They keep saying something. They say the Pipers are responsible for their condition. Harris stopped when he saw a strange look cloud her face for a moment, then disappear. Do you know the Pipers? The woman nodded. They exist. Then Harris rubbed his forehead. Wow. This was big. Okay. Can you take me to them? Dr. Harris asked. Take you? The woman looked concerned. Harris said, yeah. If he could see for himself, he could report back. He had to solve this. She didn't respond, not at first. She simply watched the water with a look of consternation. Look, I'm asking you, begging you, please, will you take me to them? She met his eyes and then rose. Without a noise, she seemed to almost glide from the rocks. Yes, come along, she said and moved toward a row of ferns. Dr. Harris rose as fast as he could, following along. He was finally going to get to see the pipers. Three months later, Dr. Henry Harris was back on Earth. What do you mean you're resigning? Harris's dean demanded. Dr. Harris said the answer that seemed to be pretty evident from the letter of resignation and him saying, I'm resigning to go work for the military. The dean said that that wasn't what he was asking. He what happened out there six months ago. Harris hated that he had to help them. Now he was working for them. Didn't he have a family? Harris looked out his window to the sun that was nearly peeking out of the morning smog. He didn't have a family. Not really. He was already gone so much that his son hardly knew him. One of the benefits of his six month trip was that he missed Sally's wedding while he was gone. Out there on Y3. It was a new frontier. Yes, but what happened? Dr. Harris said he had the opportunity of a lifetime. He had an unlimited grant as long as he kept the Garrison open. Five years of this and he could retire. He sat the dean down. Broad strokes were and some of this was classified. The people of the Garrison thought they met someone, something in the woods. Something they called the Pipers. And those Pipers turned them into plants. The dean chuckled. He could see why this was so hush hush. It was actually a massive problem with people walking off their jobs to go sit in the sun. Everyone had the same response. They were super guarded psychologically. Most of them withstood 4,600 on the shock box. 4,600? The dean said. Wow. If they weren't a plant that could turn them into one. He was fine. I was ready, Dr. Harris said. Anyway, I solved the problem. The Pipers. They exist. The Dean cocked an eyebrow. Uh. Dr. Harris grinned and allowed that they existed in the mind of the Garrison crew. It was something of a mass hypnosis A mass psychotic break. You see, everyone was there because they were the best. They were skilled, highly trained. All of them had worked hard their entire lives. There was constant pressure from all sides. Harris glanced toward the window again. The dean said he understood that. So when they get to this asteroid out on the frontier and see the native population living this very relaxed, very analog life with no concept of goals, purpose, or planning, it was like an Eden, without struggle or conflict. Well, each person out there sees that. And because of their own psychological history, they think similar things. They think of life when they were children, when they had no worries, no responsibilities before modern society. A babe in the sun. But the dean jumped. Harris paced, still energized by his breakthrough. But they can't admit this to themselves. They can't admit that every bit of work they did every day they sat toiling in front of a screen instead of going for a walk in the sun. Or every time they chose, finishing up a task over putting their children to bed was the wrong choice because they had built their life around it. They couldn't admit that they wanted to live like the natives on Y3, sitting in the sun and enjoying life. So they make the Pipers. The Pipers are these mysterious aliens in the woods that entrap them, that forced them to lead that life, just like the constructs of society force them to choose the other. The people can blame the Pipers, not themselves. The dean was thinking about it. So what are they going to do? Burn the woods? Harris contorted his face. What? No. The woods were harmless. There's nothing in the woods. It's all psychological, and it would just manifest in a different way if the woods weren't there. We need to change something about our modern life. So that's what I'm going to go do. Like I said, I've solved it, but I haven't cured it. The Dean smiled. That. Honestly, that really was exciting. He could see why Harris was so eager to return. Well, he was excited to see what publications came out of this. He looked at the hover luggage. Did Harris need any help? Harris shook his head. Nope. He left the following day. He just had a few things he needed to finish up here first. The Dean shouldn't let Harris keep him. Don't want to turn into a plant, harris joked. He shook the Dean's hand and the door hissed shut behind him. Henry locked it with a voice command. Harris looked at the city skyline and breathed. The sun was just about to come out from the smog for the first and probably the only time that day, Dr. Henry Harris lowered his hover luggage, a bag that he hadn't even opened since Y3, and entered a combination. It opened. He had long since figured out how to get things past the scanners. Even still, a bag full of dirt was a challenge for him. It was worth it, though. He dumped the dirt out onto the floor. He removed the shielding from the windows, allowing the full heat of the sun in. It warmed the floor and the dirt, and Dr. Henry Harris laid back on the dirt in the bright sunlight, and he smiled. There are a lot of points the story raises that I don't think can be dismissed out of hand. Sure, the central theme of people becoming plants is silly, but it does force a bigger why? Why do we do all of this? When we live lives where we go to work before the sun rises and come home after dark to afford a car, clothes, and daycare so we can go to work, it's not hard to see the appeal of becoming plants and maybe for the first time in years, sitting unburdened in the sun. This story is a cautionary tale, of course, of a society so consumed by progress that it has forgotten the people who make it up, ostensibly who that progress is for and how stressful and tightly wound they are. That an alien suggesting that they could become a plant and leave it all behind could be the undoing of a whole space station and more. I personally see reflections of this in our current world. I hope we don't get there, but this story is an encouragement to spend more time in the warmth of the sun while we can. Today's story was adapted from the short story Piper in the woods by Philip K. Dick, fictionals by Jason and Carissa Weiser, and our theme song is by the amazing Break Master Cylinder. We'll see you in two weeks with a couple of stories from the master of Gothic horror, Edgar Allan Poe. Thank you so much for listening, and we'll see you next time.