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Transitions (CA - Uno, Mark, & the Shepherds)

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"Yeah," Bob responded gingerly, "That's what the coffee's for."

There was an understanding in his words. And yet, he wasn't one to give advice. That had been Becca's specialty. Even Eleanor was better at it. The discontent was palpable. Bob would have to call Val and work on that finesse. It was amazing how unraveling a single expression or misplaced word could be.

There would be no way to get Mark involved without having him stand on the threshold. It was a dangerous place to be.

"I know you can't discuss specifics about clients. But we both know, you've seen the demons we all fight, their many shapes and faces. You've fought them yourself.. you might be a therapist, but you can admit you struggle, too. Usually that's the case, isn't it?" he rubbed his jaw with his forefinger and thumb from his ears down to his chin, and inclined his head just so.

"I guess a doctor should go see another doctor when he gets sick," Mark commented. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I've never been as good a patient, though."

He looked wistful. Wanted to ask more about the camp, but it was clear by now he wouldn't be getting any straight answers. At least not until this 'head of the whole thing' cleared him. If they did. There was a reason for Bob's silence, Val's reaction... The secrecy. Maybe the rancher was a conspiracy theorist of some sort, living off the grid, and Bob respected their privacy, while Val feared their methods. Seemed as plausible an answer as any, though his concern for Bianca deepened, in spite of all assurances.

He cleared his throat, changing the subject. "So how's retired life treating you? You have any plans for today?"

“I wasn’t trying to pin you down just then. You do need help. You can’t give someone a life resource you don’t have.”

Bob didn’t seem keen on changing the subject.

“Correct me if I’m wrong. People do bad things with the intention of harming others?” It seemed like a blatantly obvious question, coming from a retired officer.

Mark gave him a funny look, trying to guess what he meant by the question, the emphasis on people, but came up empty.

So there was nothing for it but to answer it as it appeared on the surface. Perhaps the rest would reveal itself.

"Not always," Mark said. "Acts of hatred or vengeance can be motivated by specific intent to harm others. But I feel like most people don't think that far ahead. People are largely reactionary. We do what feels right to us in the moment. The harm to others is often a side effect of impaired decision making."

“Sure.” Bob responded.

“What do we know about animals? National Geographic makes it out to be a pretty brutal world.”

Now Mark was really confused.

"Animals? You mean, do they have intent to harm?" he asked. "I'm no expert, but I'm not sure they have the capacity for higher thinking that would qualify as intent, per se. A hungry crocodile is going to kill the first zebra he can catch. But does he intend to do harm? Does he even understand harm? More likely, all he understands is that he's hungry, and the zebra is food."

He pulled that funny look again, a bemused half-smile. "Why the sudden interest in National Geographic?"

"Right, and we call that instinct." Bob turned around and was washing Eleanor's lunch dishes from the previous day, ignoring Mark's last question.

"Humans are instinctual as well, right? Until "civilized" times, bigger and stronger meant more powerful, and therefore, dominant; capable of acquiring a large progeny, wealth, and power." he put the dishes away and started the dishwasher, before beginning to clean off the counters.

"We apply our knowledge to choose to respect things animals don't in terms of that power. Animals lack the capacity to respect bloodlines, for example. We apply what we call reasoning to circumstances, a dividing factor between a man and a beast. Nonetheless, would you say most of what humanity does - is driven in the end by instinct? The innate drive to survive, propagate and dominate?"

Was this Bob's version of regular ol' morning small talk? No, it wasn't. He was getting at something. Surely. The man was like a dog with a bone, even though he'd tried to switch the topic to something light and easy earlier. It didn't take. And now it was just... Where was he going with this?

"Humans are pretty nuanced," Mark said, leaning back in his chair easily. "We all have the same basic needs, survival and everything that comes with it. But I think at the root of things, even more than survival is happiness. Meaning. A life devoid of that is a life in danger, even with food, resources, and other necessities secured."

Bob listened, having finished tidying up the kitchen, and gave Mark his full attention. He blinked slowly.

"Happiness." he hummed.

"Do you think animals experience emotion? Look at a dog when they wag their tails - that's an emotion. I think everything wants to be some form of content or happy. I won't argue biology, I just don't think happiness is unique to humans-maybe a higher form of instinct. If you say happiness is something we strive to achieve, and for our very survival no less, I would think it would be our instinct to be happy. What makes our actions uniquely separate from animals?"

"The principle checks out. When you get down to the nuts and bolts of it, we're all bundles of neurons motivated to seek reward and avoid punishment."

Mark shrugged.

"To tell you the truth, I've never given much thought to what animals feel, or what separates us. Dad had a dog I swear he liked more than me. After ol' Red died, mom said no more dogs and that was that.  But sure, makes sense that they feel something like happiness. They have brains too, after all. Simpler brains than ours, but still brains. They're still wired to seek reward and avoid punishment, just like us."

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