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ESCAPING THE PROBABILITY

🇨🇦Hitesh_
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Synopsis
A short story about the consequences of the struggle to escape an early yet inevitable death of a man who comes to control probability itself.

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Latest Update1
2004 years ago
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Chapter 1 - 200

"Okay kid, but this will be the last time! Got it?"

"Loud and clear, dad..." A small and adorable voice arose in response to the question, followed by an almost inaudible whisper and a subsequent giggle, "…for today."

The man who spoke with a certain measure of exasperation earlier on looked down at the kid next to him who barely reached his knees, thinking back to the bad decision of trying to act cool in front of the latter that day.

But in his defense, it couldn't really be helped. After all, which dad did not want and hope to be his child's hero? Moreover, he really had the ability to back his wish, so it was obvious that he would succumb to the idea.

'It was all about trying to impress hot chicks back in college, and now my kid…I am sure I'll get diagnosed with narcissism or something if I spend more than fifteen minutes with a shrink.'

With that thought in his head, he dropped the round object from his hands, waiting for the much-awaited moment. Next to him, the five-year-old chubby boy craned his neck to see the descent of the water filled balloon through the glass balustrade down onto the water surface of the pool, which had a medium sized basketball net right at the edge where there should have had been a diving board

"Why on Earth would ya have that hoop at the edge of a pool? What kinda stupid a*s water polo derivative is that?" That was what Mr. Jackson from next door would not forget to bring up every once in a while, whenever he felt like his backyard couldn't entrap his interest any longer, making him try and strike conversations that would spiral down into the abyss of sarcasm faster than M&Ms down a kid's throat. Thankfully for the two of them, he was busy trying to intensely shed some grams off his massive body on a stationary bike in his backyard right now.

Anyway, at this moment, the water balloon was falling down as the air resistance made its surface distort and ripple while twisting and turning. If the balloon could speak, it would cuss out at its fate of having to face the torment of the 'wind elements' when it itself was a mere rubbery body filled with the gentleness that was water. The only matter of solace for the balloon would be the vast body of water down below it approaching rapidly, which would 'give' it a sense of belonging, a beckoning call to become one with the 'greater one'.

But of course, the water balloon was no sentient being from some fantastical, albeit childish, fiction piece, just a rubber balloon falling to its 'splashy' doom. Meanwhile, the man standing up there with his child was looking at the balloon as it reached midway amidst a gradually intensifying gust of when he suddenly received a call on his cellphone.

'Sh*t!'

As he took out his phone and checked the caller ID, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be calling this client to confirm the decision on the building plans. Of course, that would have involved a solid fifteen-twenty minutes of rambling on the latter's part, who was a 62 years old Mexican banking tycoon with too much time and too few people with the necessary patience at hand. That was why he had been postponing it for the last 2 hours.

Clearly unable to continue paying attention to the balloon that was just four meters from the surface, the man flicked his finger once before receiving the call, "Hello Mr. Santiago! I am feeling some greatly satisfied vibes from your side already! So, can we finalize…"

In the fraction of a second after he flicked his finger, the wind turned extremely intense, to the point where the balloon was forced to move laterally as well while falling vertically. At the same time, a tiny screw fell off its place on Mr. Jackson's stationary bike, instantly causing the maniacally peddling human on top of it to suddenly find all of his force left with no place to channel into as the chain and other internals unraveled at the front. As a consequence, the balanced frame suddenly dropped ahead, along with the 280-pound fleshy frame on top.

"Lord Jeeee…"

VOMPP!

As Mr. Jackson got almost literally ejected out of his seat and went into a short free-fall, he slammed onto the ground with a force, and an accompanying sound, strong enough to be worthy of being noticed by the neighbors around him. Meanwhile, because of the wind and reasons unknown, the water in the pool had been swishing and splashing about with a measure of intensity. The impact of the fall close by, which should have been negligible, somehow happened at a time, or probably led to, slight waves being transferred across a small distance. All in all, it ended up rippling the water in the pool perfectly in sync with its seemingly random splashing, further intensifying the amplitude of the 'waves' in the water.

At this moment, just as the water balloon barely maintained its integrity while passing through the sharp winds and reaching close to the water, the surface right below it started developing up into a wave rising toward its peak.

All of this obviously happened in a fraction of a second as the balloon covered the short vertical distance, perfectly landing onto the wave crest that was amplified by the positive interference with the impact waves from the fall next door, as well as the water around it, just as it was infinitesimally close to reaching its peak. At this very instant, the water inside the balloon that had been sloshing about suddenly happened to slosh back upward altogether, miraculously in sync with the rising wave on the other side of the rubber membrane.

And then, the two surfaces met!

However, there was no sound of a rubber membrane bursting and water splashing on water!

Instead, in that very instant, every single molecule of water in and out of the balloon, as well as in the rubber wall itself, managed to move and vibrate in a single direction, while the almost ferocious gust of wind suddenly got sucked up into the surroundings. It was indeed a literal miracle of probability!

"Hello Mr. Santiago! I am feeling some greatly satisfied vibes from your side already! So, can we finalize the plans and get you the sense of security you have always needed?"

"Look Craig, I do like what I see here in your plans. But, I need a bit more glam in my security."

"Mr. Santiago, the female guards you asked for are listed right there. Are we still going for the office vibe or switching it to the Honey Bunny mansion?"

"Ahaha…you can joke all you want, kiddo! You know it very well I am not getting any action any time soon sitting on this wheelchair, not until the operation at least. I mean…Look, you know me by now. I have dreams…childhood dreams…" That was followed by a brief exposition in Spanish, basically highlighting the love for Bond movies and the villainous lairs depicted in them, quickly interrupted by Craig Ferguson, who was looking at the balloon literally bounce of the water surface toward the basketball hoop.

"I get it sir! But frankly, the logistics of those kinds of upgrades will only delay the project unnecessarily by 4-6 months…I mean, we are talking about some foundational alterations, and I am sure your engineering chief won't be happy about it, especially when it's not really a necessity. Your building, and even more so your room, is almost secure as a presidential residence. And if you want to prepare for some Avengers level events, even these upgrades won't really do it in all fairness."

Juan Santiago, who was signing a few papers right now with his AI earpiece projecting some accounting numbers mid-air in front of him, shook his head with an air of childish exasperation never seen around him under normal circumstances. "You'll get what you owe, along with an additional bonus. So, just stop with the customer centric bullsh*t and get me my triple fortification and advanced plasmic impact absorption shields. And if that pendejo can't handle some modifications in the construction schedule, I won't mind throwing his a*s back to the Arabian Sea where he came from."

Craig was too distracted to listen to the later half of what the other spoke, because he was immediately assaulted by the crazy cheers of the kid right next to him, as well as the god forsaken profanities that almost materialized into tangible sound waves as they emerged from next door, where Mr. Jackson was cursing every single individual involved in getting him onto the bike.

"Ah… yes Mr. Santiago, I'll get the updates sent over to you by Monday, and we can finalize everything by the end of the week, and hopefully get you your new headquarters by next year."

"Hahaha…I know I won't be disappointed, boy." Juan Santiago gave his characteristic rich laugh as he finished with his work and got ready to be escorted to the board meeting. "But, I need you here in New York personally on this job. I am paying the top dollar for the top man, and not some consultant working under you."

"Don't worry, Mr. Santiago. I'll see you on Wednesday." Craig hurriedly hung off the phone, lest his pants were torn apart by the kid who couldn't stop jumping up and down after seeing the water balloon get through the net. It was something he had seen 25 times already at least, but brought him the same kind of awe as the 3rd time… He didn't realize anything was special about it the first two times, and it was only when he tried it himself did he realize that this was something impossible.

"Dad!" The kid, who was named Robin, screamed with excitement, " How do you do this every time? It always bursts up when I throw it down…Same with the baseball thing you do… Give me some of your luck, dad, so that I don't have to train every day after school."

"Oi, this is just a fluke, okay? And it takes tons of behind the scene practice, effort, and attempts to get such flukes once in a while. Luck or chance can't replace your hard work, do you get that?"

"Yeaaahhh, but at least I won't have to train EVERY day!"

"Don't worry, you've got a lot of luck already. You'll see it as you work along." Craig ruffled the kid's hair and then brought him downstairs. "So, what was that ice cream flavor called again?"

"It's Choco punch blonde brownie! It's soooo good that…"

The two went downstairs, distracted by the prospect of a great new ice cream to try without thinking more about the winds that had stopped, the pool that had calmed down, the water balloon that was floating in the pool… or for that matter, Mr. Jackson, who was still trying hard to get up from the ground.