Page 73 of Flipping the Script

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “That’s connected to that paradox thing, right? The fermented paradox?”

“Fermi paradox,” Jesse said excitedly. “Yeah. It’s one of the theories to explain why we haven’t seen any real evidence of aliens or interstellar species when it’s statistically impossible that we’re the only planet with life on it.”

I’d forgotten he was into all this existential stuff. It was weird to see him so animated while talking about something. It softened his usual neutral mask and made him even more handsome, if that was possible.

“I think it’s a very human-centric theory,” Jesse continued. “That we came up with it because that’s what we’d do.”

“Like projection?” I asked.

“Exactly. That’s how humans have always worked—destroy the unknown before it destroys us. So, of course we assume others would do the same.”

“So you don’t think there are other civilizations wandering around and looking for resources to pilfer or technology to steal?” I asked. “You think they’re all peaceful?”

“No clue. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Who knows if war is even a thing in other civilizations. But I’m getting off track. Quinn thinks other species are out there and keeping the lights off, so to speak, because they don’t want to be found. That they’d also see any sort of advanced species as a threat.”

“And Jess thinks they’re doing it because we’re so primitive they don’t consider us a threat.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Primitive?”

“We’re so primitive. We’ll never even be a level-one civilization. There’s no way we’d ever be interesting to a level two or three one.”

I had no idea what Jesse was talking about, but his enthusiasm and the way his eyes lit up when he spoke were hard to look away from.

“I mean, we’re not that far removed from monkeys,” I said. “We’re basically just big apes who evolved to have opposable thumbs and the ability to make tools.”

“Exactly.” Jesse grinned triumphantly at Quinn. “I win.”

“Wait a minute. He never said he agreed with you. He just called us monkeys and apes.” Quinn huffed out a laugh. “I’m not disagreeing, but which theory do you think is more plausible?”

“Out of those two? I’d say both.”

They exchanged a look.

“I think it’s more likely that they’re hiding from everyone else out there, and they’re not bothering us because we’re just apes with bendy thumbs.”

Jesse snickered.

That sound plucked at my already frayed nerves. This was different for us, and I didn’t hate it.

“But I have another theory,” I added.

“What’s that?” Jesse asked, some of his enthusiasm fading and replaced by wariness.

He probably thought I was going to start crapping on him and his ideas.

“I don’t know a ton about space or anything, but the distances are really far, right?”

They nodded.

“What if we have no idea what’s out there because everything is so freaking far away? Unless these aliens have warp speed or whatever it would be called, it would take hundreds, if not thousands, of years to travel between solar systems and galaxies, even at the speed of light. Maybe no one in our part of space is there yet. Or maybe they were, but they lived and died a long time ago. We’ve only existed as a species for a blink of an eye compared to how long the universe has been around. Who knows what came before us—or what will come after?”

Both men gaped at me.

“Or not,” I said, some of my defenses coming back.

“I never thought of that. Not really,” Jesse mused. “We don’t even know what most of the universe is made of or how old it really is. Why it’s expanding, or what will happen when it can’t expand anymore. We have theories and guesses, but we don’t actually know anything for sure.”

“Humans are arrogant that way,” Quinn said. “We like to think we understand everything, but we don’t. I doubt we ever will.”

---