Mr.
Siegel brings us a tale that is reminiscent of Stephen Spielberg’s AI and just
as melancholy…
The
Stars Shine Brightly
By Mark C. Siegel
He
noticed the cold first. A numbing cold
that started in the tips of his fingers and quickly spread through the rest of
his body. He tried to tell Ellen to
turn up the heat, but his lips refused to cooperate. His arms and legs were just as useless. His heartbeat thumped in
his ears as panic set in.
Where
am I? he thought. Was I in an
accident?
Now
he could begin to hear things. Heavy
footsteps on a hard surface. The
footsteps stopped near him. Simon
wanted to open his eyes, but they too were paralyzed, leaving him in
darkness. He was suddenly aware that he
was naked, with only a thin sheet covering his prone body.
“I see that you are beginning to wake,” said
a strange voice. The voice was deep and
rumbling, but with a hollowness that seemed unusual. “Are you in pain?”
Simon
could do little more than utter a barely audible grunt. “The paralysis will begin to fade in a
matter of hours. You will feel weak for
several days, but that can be remedied with appropriate exercise and
nutrition. But for now, you must rest. I must check your bioscans.”
Simon
felt a slightly uncomfortable prickling sensation along his spine. “Do not be alarmed,” said the voice. “It is simply the scanning field.” The prickling disappeared. “We have not fully synchronized our scanning
instruments to your nervous system, and thus the discomfort. But do not fear. We are quickly learning.”
Simon
was confused and afraid. The last thing
he remembered was eating dinner with Ellen in their small kitchen. He could not piece together the events that
had brought him to this moment.
The
stranger seemed to sense his anxiety.
“I know you must have many questions.
In time, everything will be clear.”
Simon felt a slight pressure on his neck, followed by a whisper of
air. “This will help you sleep. When you wake, some of your movement may be
restored.”
Simon
did not want to go back to sleep. He
wanted to know where he was and why he couldn’t speak or move. He wanted to know the identity of his
caretaker with the subtle echo in his voice.
He wanted Ellen to hold his hand and comfort him. But he could feel sleep approach like a
rising tide and the world, or what little he knew of it, fell away.
Before
he completely lost consciousness, he heard the stranger say, “Rest well, my
friend. We have many questions, as
well.”
***
“Baby,
you’re getting old!” said Ellen as she collapsed next to him in the wet grass.
Simon
laughed. “You’re older than me,
remember?”
She rolled on her side and
rested her head against his shoulder.
“Yes, but I don’t get breathless after one mile. When we were in college, you could run circles
around me. Now you can barely keep up!”
“I’m just holding back,” he
said. “I figure I’ve already humiliated
you enough over the years.”
She tilted her head back and
glared at him. Without warning, she
leaned in and playfully bit his right earlobe.
“Hey!” He tried to push her away, but she grasped his hands and pinned
them above his head. In one fluid
motion, she was straddling his chest.
“Now what’re you going to do, huh?”
Simon
was content to lie motionless. The sun
was beginning to set behind Ellen and it cast a shimmering penumbra around her
body. A few strands of her ebony hair
fell across her eyes and he silently hoped that she would not brush them
away. He could feel the perspiration on
her thighs against his bare chest. In
that brief moment, Simon marveled at his friend Tim, who had recently divorced
his wife after claiming to have fallen out of love.
For Simon, that concept was
remarkably foreign.
Ellen smiled and slowly released
his hands. He began to knead the
muscles in her thighs, gradually sliding his left hand under the cuff of her
running shorts. She looked around a bit
nervously. The park was relatively
deserted. A few children played on the
swings some distance away. An old man
sat on a bench behind the swings, dozing.
“You’re gonna get us arrested, you know that?”
“No problem,” he said, his hands
continuing their journey. “I’m an
attorney.”
She closed her eyes and rocked
against his touch for a moment. Then
she quickly rose and stretched her arms up to the sky. “We should get back. I need to get some things ready for the
conference tomorrow .”
Simon sighed and got up. He watched his wife finish stretching and
wondered why he hadn’t been able to stay as fit. Too much time behind a desk writing briefs, he decided. Ellen had always been more disciplined,
whether it was exercise or her work at the lab. She wasn’t even forty and yet had published as many papers than
some of her more senior colleagues.
When Simon had first met her when they were both undergrads at
Northwestern, he had been struck by her fierce ambition and the depth of her
intellect. On their first date, she had
said, “I want to be one of the best minds working in neural cybernetics. I want to unleash all of that bottled-up
potential that lives inside our brains.”
And then she laughed at herself, saying that she hoped she didn’t seem
too arrogant. In the eight subsequent
years they had been together, she had never wavered from that goal. Simon liked to think that their children, if
they ever had any, would inherit a much better world because of their mother’s
work.
“Think you can keep up this
time?” she asked while flexing her calves.
“I want to get home so you can finish what you started.” She shot him a mischievous glance and took off
at a brisk pace before he could answer.
Simon grinned and began running after her amidst the dying light and
growing shadows.
***
Simon woke with a
start and realized that he could now open his eyes. His vision was a little blurry, but he could see reasonably
well. He was lying on some kind of
oddly shaped bed in a darkened room.
Above his head was a display that showed a continuous scroll of
indecipherable symbols. There were a
couple other beds in the room, but otherwise the room was empty. A large circular indentation covered much of
the far wall and Simon guessed that it was a door. The air was warm and dry and he no longer fell like his body was
drenched in ice water. He heard the
faint whoosh of air that sounded like a ventilation system.
Simon turned his head
from side to side slowly. His muscles
were stiff and achy, but otherwise he felt nothing unusual. He wiggled his fingers experimentally,
followed by his toes. So far, so good
he thought. He had a burning curiosity
to see what injuries, if any, he had sustained. A thin, silvery fabric still covered him, but Simon managed to
kick it off. In the dim light, he
scrutinized his naked body. He couldn’t
find any wounds or scarring. His skin
was much more pallid than he remembered and he seemed to have lost some
weight. But otherwise, he seemed to be
fine, except for a headache that was blossoming at the base of his skull. Yet he still could not fathom how he had
ended up in this strange room.
A chime sounded and
the circular door irised open. Simon
reached frantically for the sheet and threw it over himself. A towering figure strode through the
doorway. Simon’s eyes were immediately
drawn to the visitor’s face. It was
long and narrow, covered in dark scales that gleamed like onyx. Its eyes were pools of jade green that
upturned slightly at the outer corners.
The creature had a narrow vertical slit in the middle of its face that
might have been a nose or airway. It
stood on two fragile-looking legs and it wore flowing robe of crimson. Around its slender neck hung a small
oval-shaped pendant.
The visitor stopped at
the foot of the bed and stared at Simon for a moment. Simon’s hands trembled with fear and he drew his knees up to his
chin. He desperately wished that he was
dreaming and that he would soon wake up in bed next to Ellen. “Who are you?” said Simon in a strained
voice. “Where the hell am I?”
The visitor’s short
snout opened to reveal rows of yellowed teeth looked perfectly capable of
tearing his throat apart. It began to
speak in a series of guttural clicks and grunts that frightened Simon even
more. But then it seemed to switch to
English, even though he still heard it grunting and clicking. “I will not hurt you. You are safe. I am a…healer. You may
call me Tiska.”
Simon recognized the
voice. “You were in here before,
weren’t you?
Tiska bowed its
head. “Indeed. I have been privileged to bring you
health. Are you feeling restored?”
“Where am I?”
“You are aboard our
ship, the Rohtann.”
“Your ship,” said
Simon. “You mean like a spaceship?”
“I believe that term
is appropriate,” said Tiska.
Simon felt the room
spin around him. The room turned gray
and he found himself gasping for breath.
From a long distance away, Tiska said, “You are hyperventilating. Please try to focus on your breathing.”
He was falling. Streaks of blackness stretched across his
vision. “Listen to my voice,” said
Tiska. “Slow breaths. Air enters the body. Air leaves the body. Slow breaths.”
Tiska repeated these
words for what seemed like ages.
Gradually, Simon’s breathing slowed and the room snapped back into
focus. Tiska stood next to him, its
expression unreadable. “Is your
breathing satisfactory?”
Simon nodded. “Yes.
Thank you. I guess I’m a little
overwhelmed.”
“That is
understandable. First contact is
difficult for many species,” said Tiska.
The
alien paused for a moment before continuing.
“It is a pity that we did not arrive sooner. Much suffering may have been avoided with our intervention.”
Simon gave Tiska a
puzzled look. “What? What are you talking about? What happened?”
Tiska tilted its head
to one side. “You have no memory of the
events on your world?”
“What events?” said
Simon.
“You were found deep
beneath one of your world’s cities. In
a cryotube. Do you remember this?”
Simon furrowed his
brow. “Cryotube? No, that’s not right. I live with my wife—“ And then he remembered lying on another
table with a light shining in his eyes.
You’re going to feel a little prick in your arm, Mr. Krenz. “Wait!
Where is she? Is she okay?” His fingertips were suddenly numb.
“You are inquiring
about someone?” said Tiska.
“Yes, my wife! Is she here too? Can I see her?”
Tiska said, “You were
found in a large cavernous structure with many other cryotubes. Yours was the only one with a functioning
emergency power supply. The emergency
power conduits on the other units had failed.
Their occupants are dead.”
Simon closed his
eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Our survey team
searched the entire facility. You were
the only survivor.” Tiska’s tone was
matter-of-fact.
“What caused the power
failure? Goddammit, they promised me
that their systems were foolproof!” He
pounded his fist into the spongy material of the bed.
Tiska watched him
impassively. “I was not on the survey
expedition. I will take you to our
vessel’s captain later and she will provide more information.”
Simon glared at the
alien. “How do I know you’re not
lying? Why am I here and not in a
hospital on Earth?” His shoulders
slumped and he held his head between his hands. “This isn’t making any fucking sense,” he said.
Tiska raised both of
its hands. The eight digits bore a
striking resemblance to talons. “Your
body has experienced much stress. You
require nourishment.” Tiska went to a
small recess to the left of Simon’s bed and touched a series of keys. A panel slid open and Tiska removed a
squarish bowl. Steam was rising from
the bowl and a pungent smell similar to cabbage filled the air. Tiska turned to Simon and offered the bowl
to him. “We have had the opportunity to
study your body chemistry to some extent.
This should satisfy your dietary needs for the moment. Will you eat?”
Simon shook his
head. “I’m not hungry.”
“If you eat, I will
bring you to our captain. She will be
returning from the surface of your world soon.”
Simon examined the
contents of the bowl with suspicion.
The thick pudding-like substance and its eggshell color reminded Simon
of tapioca. “What is it?”
“A processed form of a
vegetable we call szat. It is a
staple on our homeworld.”
Simon took the bowl
and said, “I don’t suppose you have a spoon.”
Tiska indicated the
pendant around its neck. “My translator
could not render the last word of your sentence. What do you request?”
“A spoon.” He thought for a moment. “A utensil used for eating.”
“Of course,” said
Tiska. “My people do not typically use
such devices. I will attempt to
fabricate something for you. In the
meantime, can you eat without mechanical assistance?”
“I’ll try.” Simon raised the bowl to his lips and gently
tipped the bowl. The thick consistency
of the szat made it possible to eat from the bowl without much
difficulty. The food was starchy and
saltier than he expected, but it was more than tolerable. The sensation of having something hot in his
stomach calmed Simon and brought him more fully awake. He also realized that he was hungrier than
he had anticipated. Simon quickly
slurped down the contents of the bowl as Tiska stood by and watched.
“I am pleased to see
you take nourishment,” said Tiska as Simon scraped the bowl with his index
finger and licked off the remaining morsels.
Simon set down the
bowl and gave a short laugh. “You would
get along great with my grandmother.
She was always hovering over us while my brother and I ate her matzo
ball soup.”
“Matzo ball?”
Simon waved his hand
dismissively. “Never mind. Can I see your captain now?”
Tiska bowed its
head. “I will be honored to bring you
before her.” The alien studied him for
a moment. “Does your species wear
garments? I inquire because we have
encountered other mammalian species that do not.”
Simon chuckled
nervously. “Yes, we do. I would appreciate it if you could find me
something to wear.”
“A moment is all that
is required. I will return.” Tiska headed for the door, but then paused
and looked back at Simon. “Do you have
a name, sentient one?”
The question caught
Simon off-guard. “My name? Oh, yes.
Of course. Simon. Simon Krenz.”
“Sy-mahn,” said
Tiska.
Simon nodded. “Yes.
Simon.”
“The stars shine
brightly, Simonkrenz. We welcome you as
an honored guest of the Serka people.”
With that, Tiska left the sickbay, leaving Simon in confused silence.
***
He found her in the
rehab unit of the University Hospital.
Ellen was perched on a stool at the bedside of one of her patients. Simon loitered in the hallway, not wanting
to interrupt. He enjoyed catching her
at work and watching her easy grace as she encountered bodies ravaged by trauma
or disease. Simon had always felt
uncomfortable around sick people. When
his father had been in the final death grip of colon cancer, Simon would visit
him only after enduring tearful pleadings from his mother. It wasn’t that he
didn’t love his Dad. He could remember
the rainy afternoon (Simon must have been seven or eight) when his father sat
him at the kitchen table and taught him to play chess. And the impromptu soccer matches that they
would play in their small backyard, his father laughing and encouraging Simon
to “control the ball, son. Football’s
all about control. You don’t kick the
ball, you instruct it. Here, let me show ya.”
But Simon, who was
just entering the minefields of adolescence as his father lay dying, could not
bear to watch the slow wasting of a body that had once carried him eight blocks
to the ER when he fell off the jungle gym in the park and fractured his
leg. He hated to see his dad, who had
come to the States with a hundred dollars in his pocket after fleeing the
devastation of Sarajevo, weep after he soiled the hospital bed or vomit
uncontrollably after another futile round of chemotherapy. On the day of the funeral, Simon tossed
flowers into the freshly dug grave and turned away in shame because he felt
relieved.
Ellen noticed him
shuffling his feet in the hallway. She
smiled and leaned over and whispered something to her patient, a
twenty-something Asian woman with a tube in her throat and eyes the color of
tilled earth. The young woman also
began to smile and nodded slightly.
Ellen motioned for him to enter the room.
“Hey,” he said, giving
her hand a squeeze. “You ready for
lunch?”
“Just about,” she
said. “Simon, this is Kyoko, one of my
favorite patients. Kyoko, this is my
dashing husband, Simon.”
Kyoko mouthed hello
to Simon. “Hi, Kyoko,” he said. “Is my wife treating you okay?”
Kyoko nodded
emphatically. “Yeah,” said Simon. “She is a pretty decent doctor, but don’t
tell her that too often.” He raised his
hand to his mouth and said in a stage whisper, “It gets to her head!”
Ellen slapped his hand
down. “Kidder! Actually, you’re just in time to see Kyoko
give her implant a test drive.” She
looked at Kyoko. “You ready to try
again?”
Kyoko nodded again and
turned her attention to a flatscreen display that sat on a table alongside her
bed. A series of random letters lined
the top of the display and a cursor blinked patiently at the right margin. “Start with something simple,” said Ellen in
a hushed tone. “Whatever you feel
like.”
The cursor moved to
the next line. Letters creeped across
the screen. KYLK.
Kyoko’s brow furrowed
in frustration. “It’s okay,” said
Ellen. “It takes time to train your
cortical neurons to interact with the implant.
You’re doing good. Try again.”
Kyoko stared at the
display with a burning intensity. Simon
watched as the cursor advanced to the next line. KYOKO.
“Great job, Kyoko!”
said Ellen. “That’s wonderful! Now, let’s try a short sentence and then
we’ll take a break.”
Kyoko nodded. Simon noticed that a faint sheen of sweat
glistened on her forehead and her cheeks were flushed. The cursor moved again. YOR
HUSBND IS CUTE.
Ellen laughed and
looked at Simon over her shoulder.
“Yeah, he’s not bad, I guess.”
Simon tried not to look embarrassed, without much success. Ellen grabbed a tissue from the bedside
stand and gently wiped Kyoko’s face.
“I’m really proud of you, sweetie.
I couldn’t have asked for more.”
She took Kyoko’s left hand and held it between her own hands. “You get some rest. I’ll be back later and we’ll do some more
exercises. Before too long, you’ll be
talking nonstop!”
From the doorway,
Simon waved. “It was really nice to
meet you, Kyoko. Thank you for letting
me hang out.” Kyoko flashed a weary
smile and mouthed Bye. Ellen
stood up and dimmed the light over Kyoko’s bed. They left the room together and walked down the hallway to the
elevators. As they walked, Simon
slipped his hand around her narrow waist.
“I’m so glad you had a
chance to see that. She just got her
implant last week,” said Ellen. “But
she’s learning to use it at a remarkably fast pace.”
“What happened to
her?” asked Simon.
“She had a stroke that
originated in her brain stem. Massive
cerebrovascular damage. One minute
she’s sitting in class at the U and feeling fine; seconds later she’s almost completely
paralyzed.” Ellen shook her head. “But I never see her give up or lose
hope. If I let her, she’d be practicing
with her implant for hours at a time.
Some of my other patients can’t do full sentences even after several
weeks. But they’re usually older than
Kyoko.”
The elevator arrived
and they rode it to the top floor. The
hospital had just completed work on the new cafeteria and Simon actually
enjoyed coming here to eat lunch with his wife. An oversized picture window dominated one wall, offering a
spectacular view of the Mississippi and the rest of the campus. Ferns and rubber trees were scattered
throughout the brightly lit dining area.
Coming here was certainly better than eating in his cramped and
cluttered office at the Government Center.
Simon and Ellen made
their way through the cafeteria’s serving line. Ellen, as usual, ordered a tuna melt and mineral water. Simon, in the mood for something spicy,
opted for the chili. At the pay scanner, Ellen happened to run into one of her
colleagues and they spent a couple minutes in animated discussion regarding a
recently published paper. Simon tried
to follow the conversation, but he soon became lost and turned his attention to
the scenery beyond the window. The snow
had diminished to a few errant flurries, but the sky remained a mottled gray
that stretched to the horizon. The
newly fallen snow had covered the Washington Avenue Bridge in a swirling white
cloak that spanned the frothy waters of the Mississippi. Simon watched students brave the icy
December wind to traverse the bridge that connected the stately grandeur of the
East Bank to the more modern and brash West Bank. For a moment, Simon yearned for his student days, when he had the
time to spend long winter afternoons in the warm, still air of the library
reading and dreaming of his life to come.
Ellen waved goodbye to
her colleague and they found a table near the window. Ellen took a bite of her sandwich and said, “I spoke to Mom
today.”
“How’s she doing? She ready to quit the Senate yet?” Ellen’s mother, Gretchen Khalid, the
daughter of a wealthy data haven executive, had trounced Illinois’s incumbent
in the 2028 election after he became embroiled in a nasty scandal involving his
eleven-year-old niece. As one of the
few Humanists in Congress, Senator Khalid had been the focus of much media
attention in her first two years. Her
politics made her a frequent target of the old-school Republicans and Christian
Dawners.
“She sent me this
article from a Dawner newssheet. It
basically accused her of orchestrating a homosexual coup d’etat that would put
a lesbian in the White House.”
“I bet that got her
going,” said Simon as he scooped up a spoonful of chili.
“Oh, a bit.” Ellen laughed. “She’s thinking about having sponsoring a bill to make U.N. Day a
federal holiday, just to get a reaction from them.” She sipped some water.
“She’s thinking about coming up for Christmas. What do you think?”
Simon chewed
thoughtfully for a moment. “She’s not
spending it with Carol?” Ellen’s
younger sister lived in Georgetown and worked for a fashion magazine.
Ellen shook her
head. “Carol is going to Phoenix with
Matt to visit his parents.”
“Has Gretchen met him
yet?”
“Yeah, she had dinner
with them a couple weeks ago. Carol
said they couldn’t stop comparing their jazz collections.”
“Sounds promising,”
said Simon.
“Well, at least she
didn’t make him cry like the last one. So about Christmas.”
“Yeah, of course. She hasn’t seen the house yet. We can put up some lights. Maybe even get a real tree.” Simon swallowed another bite. “All very secular, natch.”
“Good. I’ll call her tonight, assuming I don’t get
home too late. We’ve got some new
implants that we’re prepping for phase three trials. They interact with the speech center of the brain. The implant passes the signal on to a tiny
voice emulator in the larynx. Soon
we’ll be able to maintain someone’s speech even if they’re completely
paralyzed.”
Simon pushed his bowl
away. The chili was a bit too greasy
for his taste. “Do I sense another
paper in your future?”
Ellen shrugged
nonchalantly. “Depends on how the
trials go. First we have to find
suitable candidates and then—” She
stopped abruptly and lifted her hands to her temples. “Goddamnit,” Ellen said with a sigh.
“Simon leaned forward
and touched her shoulder. “Another
headache?”
His wife nodded while
massaging her temples vigorously.
“That’s the third one
this week. Has anyone here at the
hospital checked you out?”
“I’m just tired,
Simon. That’s all.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “I haven’t been sleeping because we’ve been
so busy getting things ready for the trials.”
Simon wasn’t
convinced. “You should have someone
look at you. I mean it.”
Ellen reached across
the table and laid the palm of her hand against his cheek. “You worry too much, you know that? You’re like your mother, but worse.”
“Ell, c’mon, I’m not—”
She hushed him with a
finger over his lips. “Okay, okay. I’ll get Sujata to give me a brief
exam. Happy?”
“You promise?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes!
I’ll do it this afternoon, I promise.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Simon checked his watch. “I
gotta get back. I have an evidentiary
hearing at one.”
“Anything
interesting?”
“Not really,” he
said. “Some kid from the burbs got
caught trying to sell bliss patches at school.
He was dumb enough to leave the stuff in his locker. Pretty open and shut.”
They stood up and
dropped their trays into the disposal unit.
Simon accompanied Ellen to the elevator and rode with her to the Neuro
wing on the fourth floor. The doors
slid open and she kissed him softly on his mouth. The clean vanilla smell of her soap lingered on her skin. “See you tonight,” she said as she walked
out the elevator.
“Don’t work too late,”
he called after her, but she had already disappeared around the corner.
As predicted, the one
o’clock hearing was unremarkable. Judge
Gomez continued the matter for trial and Simon took a little pleasure in
watching the kid squirm under the her stern gaze. Simon worked in his office at the County Attorney’s for the rest
of the afternoon. He left at five and
took the train to St. Paul. He walked
the few blocks from the platform to their converted loft on Summit.
Ellen was already
home. She was seated at the kitchen
table, her face pale and tear-stained.
She clutched a wrinkled printout in her hands. Simon knelt down before her with his heart in his throat and a
terrible certainty building like a storm front in his mind.
***
Tiska returned a few
minutes later bearing a brown cloak that was similar to the one it was
wearing. Simon got out of the bed and
tried to stand up. His body swayed and
he nearly fell to the floor before Tiska steadied him. “Can you walk?” asked Tiska.
Simon leaned against
the bed and closed his eyes. “Yeah, just
give me a minute.” A few minutes passed
and Simon decided to attempt a few steps.
He wouldn’t be running a marathon anytime soon, but he felt reasonably
certain that he could walk without collapsing.
He took the robe from Tiska and put it on. He frowned; it was much too big.
The sleeves hung well below his hands and he had to hoist the lower
portion above his ankles so that he wouldn’t trip. But it was better than being
completely naked. He thanked Tiska for
the garment.
“It does not suit your
form,” said the alien. “But alterations
can be made. Now, we must go. The Captain is returning from the surface of
your world. We shall meet her in the
docking bay. Are you prepared to go?”
Simon nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Please follow
me. She has been notified of your wish
to see her.”
Tiska led Simon out of
the infirmary and into a wide, dimly lit passageway. They walked for a moment in silence. Simon’s legs felt wobbly and
he struggled to keep up with Tiska’s long strides. “How long have you been here?” he asked.
“We arrived in your
solar system a few…weeks? Yes, weeks is
the correct term. A few weeks ago. The Many Worlds send probes throughout the
galaxy to discover cultures worthy of further study. After extensive surveillance and analysis, contact will be
initiated with those worlds that are deemed suitable. We are a contact ship.”
“You were coming to
make contact with us?”
“Yes, and to offer you
Fledgling Status within the Many Worlds.”
They came to a
T-junction and took a left turn. Simon
was slightly startled to see other beings like Tiska moving through this
section of the ship. They were all of
similar size, but some had eyes that glowed a fiery red or yellow. Their scales also seemed to vary in shade
from rich brown to dusky gray to jet black.
Tiska growled an occasional greeting to some of them in their native
language. The aliens unabashedly stared
at Simon as he walked past. Some bowed
their heads ceremoniously. The
attention unnerved Simon and he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Why are they bowing their heads?” he asked
Tiska in a hushed voice.
“As I said before, you
are our honored guest.”
“But I’m not
important! Your people don’t know
anything about me.”
Tiska looked back at him over his
shoulder. “You are the first member of
your species aboard our ship. You are
the first of your kind with whom we have been able to communicate.”
“First? Listen, Tiska, I’m trying really hard to not
go totally insane. Part of me still
thinks I’m hallucinating or dreaming, even though I know that’s probably not
true. So I’d appreciate it if you would
quit being so fucking cryptic and tell me what’s going on!”
Tiska stopped and turned to face
him. “I regret any confusion I have
caused. I assure you that Captain Salla
will be ready to answer many of your questions.” Tiska continued down the corridor and gestured for Simon to
follow. Feeling like he had little
choice in the matter, Simon limped after him.
They came to a lift at the end of
the hall. The door slid open and Tiska
explained that the docking bay was a few decks below. They boarded the lift and Tiska barked a guttural command. The doors slid shut and the lift
accelerated, creating the vague sensation of weightlessness for a brief
moment. The doors opened with a whoosh
and they stepped out onto a catwalk overlooking the cavernous docking bay.
Simon stared in awe. The docking bay was easily a half-kilometer
long and wide. Vessels of assorted
sizes lined the perimeter of the bay; Simon counted at least thirty. The vessels were sleek and angular. Some had swept-back wings while others were
long and tapered. Dozens of Serka were
scurrying about as they made repairs to the various craft. The bay didn’t have any doors or portals
that allowed ships in and out. Instead,
the entire far wall was missing and Simon realized that he was looking directly
into space.
“Tiska, is there anything between us
and…out there?”
“A force field keeps atmosphere
contained. When a vessel enters or
leaves, the field breaches to accommodate the vessel’s contour, but there is no
need to depressurize the bay. Ah, the
Captain’s skiff arrives. You can
observe for yourself.”
A larger
craft drifted into view beyond the docking bay. It was similar in design to the other vessels, but its flared
engine nacelles and swooping profile gave it a more regal appearance. The ship’s hull gleamed like quicksilver
against the refracted light of countless stars. It gracefully turned and Simon noticed a slight ripple of
distortion around the skiff as it glided through the invisible barrier. The skiff touched down in the middle of the
bay with a soft thud.
“Come,”
said Tiska. Simon followed the alien
down the sloping catwalk. As they
approached, a portal on the skiff irised open and a short ramp slid out. Several Serka descended from the ship and
formed a line at the foot of the ramp.
The last Serka to exit the ship wore a scarlet robe with ornate geometrical
patterns woven into the sleeves. It was slightly taller than Tiska and its scales
were a sandy brown.
Tiska leaned close to Simon and
said, “That is Captain Salla.”
The Captain stepped off the ramp
and bowed to the other Serka lined up in formation. The crew bowed deeply in return.
Salla turned to Tiska and Simon and bowed again. Tiska bowed and while Simon stood rigidly,
uncertain of the proper protocol to follow.
Tiska offered the Captain a pendant similar to the one it wore around
its own neck. Simon noticed that
another burly-looking Serka standing just behind Salla was also wearing
one. Salla fastened hers in place, all
the while studying Simon with an impenetrable gaze.
“The stars shine brightly,
honored Captain,” said Tiska.
“And may their light guide you,
Healer Tiska,” said Salla in a formal tone, still surveying Simon.
“Simonkrenz, it pleases me much
to present you to Captain Salla of the Contact Ship Rhotann. Captain Salla, this being is Simonkrenz.”
“The stars shine brightly,
sentient one,” said Salla. “Has my
healer attended to your needs?”
Simon nodded. “Yes, he—er—” He stammered for a moment.
“Tiska has taken very good care of me.”
Salla made a rumbling noise that
sounded like water rushing through a subterranean passage. “You first impulse was correct. Tiska is indeed a male Serka, as I am a
female. The differences will become
more obvious to you in time.”
“Tiska said you could answer my
questions,” said Simon hesitantly.
Salla tilted its—her!—head. “Tiska has told you how my crew found you?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “But I’m still not sure what exactly
happened. Why am I the only one
here? Where are the other people like
me? Other humans.”
“Your questions are worthy of a
response. I will attempt to answer them
as best I can, although I’m afraid we still lack vital information.” Salla made a dismissive gesture to the Serka
standing at attention behind her. They
broke formation and walked away in separate directions, except for the
burly-looking one that remained at Salla’s side. “This is Reth, my executive officer.” Reth bowed in Simon’s direction.
“He was with me on the first expedition to your world. He will accompany us to the bridge, where we
can speak in more comfort.”
Simon was growing increasingly
impatient with his inability to get any direct answers from his hosts. “No!
I’m not going anywhere without some answers! I feel like there’s some big secret that you people are keeping
to yourselves.” He felt the eyes of
every Serka in the cavernous docking bay upon him, but he was past the point of
caring. “You will tell me now, understand? I’m through with waiting. What has happened down there? “ He suddenly felt exhausted. His shoulders went limp and tears pooled in
his eyes. “Please. Just tell me.”
The three reptilian aliens
exchanged looks among themselves. Salla
stepped forward. “This is very
difficult news to share. Your world has
been ravaged by an extremely lethal contagion.
We believe that it was some form of a genetically engineered virus,
although we cannot be certain. It moved
across your world swiftly. Most of your
people are dead.”
Simon struggled to comprehend
what he had just heard. “No.” He shook his head emphatically. “This isn’t happening. I’m dreaming. The cryotube’s REM inhibitor failed and I’m just having a really
bad nightmare. They’ll fix it and I’ll
go back to sleep.” He sat on the floor
with a hard thud and let out a giggle that bordered on hysterical. “Yeah, it’s just a dream.”
Salla knelt before him and spoke
softly. “We do not know exactly when
this tragedy occurred, but your cryotube’s fusion pack shows evidence that it
had been in operation for several years.
Had we not found you, your power supply would soon have exhausted itself
and you would have perished.”
Simon stopped giggling and, on
an impulse, ran his fingers over Salla’s prominent snout. Her scales were cool and hard like small
bits of glass. The captain remained
still as he did this, showing no sign that his touch disturbed her. Tiska and Reth observed their interaction in
silence. Simon withdrew his hand and
looked at her with wide, glistening eyes.
“This isn’t a dream, is it?”
“No, it is not.” Salla rose and gestured to the other two
Serka. Tiska and Reth bent down and
helped him to his feet. “Will you come
to the bridge? I have some things I
want to show you.”
He said nothing for a
minute. The devastating reality of his
situation descended upon him with a terrible weight. “What is it?” His speech
was sluggish.
“Our probes detected the first
signs of this tragedy. I was hoping
that you could help explain the content of some of the broadcasts they
recorded.”
“Alright. I’m not sure I’ll be very helpful, but let’s
go.”
“Would you prefer to get some
rest first?” asked Tiska.
“No, I think I think I’ve slept
enough,” said Simon with a weak smile.
“I want to see what you have.”
“As you wish,” said Salla. The alien captain led the way back up the
catwalk to the lift. It carried them up
several levels to another corridor that seemed identical to the one where
sickbay was located. They walked in
silence; the three Serka seemingly
content to allow Simon to confront his grief privately. The doors slid open and they entered the
bridge.
The bridge was a wide,
oval-shaped room with polished alabaster walls. Computer displays lined much of
the room’s perimeter and were monitored by roughly a dozen crewmembers. In the center of the bridge stood a slightly
elevated platform with three Serka-sized chairs built into it. Simon guessed that this was where Captain
Salla and her senior officers sat. As
with the rest of the ship, the lighting was dim and the air was almost
uncomfortably warm.
The bridge crew bowed their
heads as the four of them entered the bridge.
Salla returned the gesture without breaking stride. They crossed the bridge and passed through a
smaller door tucked away in a corner.
This room appeared to be Salla’s private office or conference room. A long table and several chairs occupied one
half of the room. Several ornamental
pedestals were scattered throughout the other half. The pedestals displayed an impressive array of sculpture and
other works of art. One object was a small, delicate-looking figurine carved
out of a pink-hued substance similar to marble. The figurine was in the shape of a creature with a barbed tail
and a pair of majestic wings that were poised in mid-flight. Its slanted eyes were serene and somehow
reassuring. Another pedestal held a
piece of silky parchment covered in columns of jagged script. The lettering glowed with a strange
luminosity of shifting colors.
Serka came over to Simon and
said, “These are objects that have been given to me by other species with whom
we have made contact.” She indicated
the radiant parchment. “That is a
blessing of safe journey written by one of the great poets on Bassti, an aquatic
world many thousands of light years from here.”
“How long have you been doing
this?” said Simon.
”This? Do you mean how long have I served on Contact ships?”
He nodded.
“I have been traveling the stars
since I was a pupil in the Shining Halls.
That was long ago.” Salla
appeared thoughtful. “Yes, a long
time. I have been captain of this
vessel for fifty of your years. But we
can discuss this more later. Will you
be seated?”
Simon took a seat next to Tiska
while Salla and Reth sat opposite them.
“Let us begin. Primary Reth,
would you summarize?”
Reth bowed his head. “You honor me, Captain. Computer, activate imaging unit, Briefing
File Reth Three Seven.”
Above the center of the table
materialized a floating image of Earth.
The North American continent was flecked with clouds that slowly drifted
eastward. It gave Simon some comfort to
see the familiar shapes of the Great Lakes.
“As the Captain and Tiska have told you, the Many Worlds have been
monitoring your species for decades,” said Reth. “Our probes were concealed with technology that ensured your
defenses would not detect them. Your
transmissions were analyzed by the probes and relayed to the Many Worlds for
further study. This is how we learned
much of your language and programmed it into our translators.” Reth held up the small pendant hanging
around his neck.
Reth continued. “Our Council decided that your people were a
suitable candidate for Fledgling Status.
Preparations were made to dispatch a contact ship to Earth. Unfortunately, those plans were
delayed. Other matters demanded the
attention of the Many Worlds.”
“The matter Primary Reth refers
to is a war,” said Salla. “The Many
Worlds is not the only power in the galaxy.
We were attacked by a belligerent species bent on expanding its
territory.” Salla clicked her talons
together. “It was a long, brutal war
and many sentients were killed. The
Many Worlds emerged victorious, but much was lost.”
“I’m sorry,” said Simon as he
shifted his weight in the awkward-fitting chair. “But I thought you were going to show me some things about
Earth.”
“My regrets,” said Reth. “Clarity is at hand. During the war, we had lost communication
with our probes scattered throughout the galaxy. Many of our relay stations were destroyed, along with records
describing the location of many probes.
When peace came, the Council made efforts to rebuild the relay network
and find the probes. Our leaders were
greatly alarmed by the data that arrived from this world. Please observe.” Reth directed Simon’s attention to the hologram of Earth
suspended above the table.
A small red point of light
blossomed on the West Coast of the United States, somewhere near San
Francisco. It quickly grew in size and
spread across Northern California. “Despite
being unable to transmit information, the probes continued to collect and
record data,” said Reth with a trace of pride.
“They are equipped to scan for life signs on a constant basis. They monitored this sudden decrease in
population density near one of your coastal cities. Such a sudden change usually indicates significant
casualties. As you can observe, the
event was not limited to the city and further losses were detected in the
surrounding region. This is the
beginning.”
A second splotch of red appeared
over southern Florida. Then another
near Chicago. Seattle. New York. Dallas.
Montreal. Soon, much of North
America was pocked with rapidly expanding blemishes.
Tiska broke his silence and said
to Simon, “What you are witnessing occurred in a matter of days. In urban centers across this continent,
something was swiftly killing millions of your people. And once the cities were ravaged, it moved
across more rural areas. But it did not
confine itself to this one land mass.”
Simon watched in horror as the
model Earth rotated, revealing new patches sprouting and marching across the
globe at a frenetic pace. Wide swaths
of Asia and Africa were quickly overrun. Much of Europe was now obscured by red
pall. As eastern Asia moved across
Simon’s view, a brilliant while light filled the room. When it subsided, Simon squinted to see
columns of holographic smoke and flame rise from several spots along the Korean
peninsula.
“What the hell was that?” asked
Simon, his voice quavering.
“The probes detected a series of
powerful nuclear detonations,” Salla said.
“They detected several launch signatures that suggests a military
confrontation. It may have been
precipitated by the cataclysm spreading around the planet, but we cannot be
certain.”
“In thirty-nine days, over
ninety-six percent of the planet’s sentient population was decimated.,” said
Tiska. “Our probes do not have the
capability to detect contagions in the atmosphere, but we confirmed the cause
upon our arrival. A viral agent.”
“What kind of virus?” said
Simon. “There was nothing like this
going on when--” He faltered for a
moment. “When I was put into
cryosleep.”
“That is useful information,”
said Reth. “Healer Tiska has been able
to analyze some tissue samples we brought back from the surface. Tiska, will you explain your findings?”
The alien physician swiveled his
chair to face Simon. “The virus was
most likely the product of genetic modification. Its designers modified its protein structure so that it would
only infect human hosts. Once the virus
penetrated the bloodstream, it attacked the lungs, which would quickly
hemorrhage, resulting in a quick but extremely painful death.”
Simon shook his head. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand this at all.” He spread his hands plaintively. “How did this happen?”
“In the midst of this tragedy,
the probes overheard many broadcasts from the planet’s surface,” said
Salla. “That is why I asked you to join
us. We understand much of what is being
said, but we do not grasp the context.
Here is a sample.”
The hologram of Earth faded away
and a new image resolved into focus. A
young woman with short blonde hair and a protective mask over nose and mouth
was standing on a street corner. Simon
recognized the Arc de Triomphe looming behind her in the background. Cars were jammed against each other on the
road and he could hear the chorus of horns blaring at each other. People were running through the streets in a
panicked state. The young woman was
speaking into a camera.
“This is Giselle Calais
reporting from Paris.” Her voice was
thin and tight. “It has been eight days
since the first reported deaths resulting from the Dawn Plague. Six days since the UN-imposed quarantine
that was meant to confine the plague to the North American Zone. And now it appears that the quarantine has
failed. French and EU officials--” A gunshot echoed in the distance and the
reporter nervously glanced over her shoulder before turning back to the
camera. “French and EU officials have
confirmed several fatalities in Strasbourg and Nice over the last twenty four
hours. Officials are unwilling to say
how the epidemic has spread, but rumors persist that Dawner cells released the
virus across Europe in a coordinated effort.
As you can see behind me, many Parisians are ignoring orders to stay in
their homes and are fleeing for the countryside.”
The scene shifted to a
television studio where a dark-skinned man sat behind a desk. His face was weary and dark circles lined
the flesh under his eyes. The letters
ITV hovered in the lower right corner of the image. “Giselle, this is Walter in London,” he said in a clipped British
accent. “We are receiving reports that
EU Security Forces have been stationed around several cities, including Paris,
with orders to kill anyone who attempts to get past them. Can you confirm this?”
“Walter, I can confirm that
troops are positioned around the city, but I can’t verify that they are under
orders to shoot to kill. We haven’t
been able to even get near the outskirts of Paris. Meanwhile, we have word that the UN Security Council is meeting
at an undisclosed location in the Alps to discuss remaining options for
containing the plague. We expect—”
In a blur of motion, a teenage
boy flew into the picture and struck the back of her head with a length of
pipe, screaming, “C’est le fin!” She
collapsed to the pavement. A friend
must have accompanied the boy because there was another shout followed by a
sick gurgling sound. The camera hit the
ground with a loud thud but kept recording.
It showed the young reporter sprawled on her side with blood pooling
under her left ear. Her eyes stared
ahead blankly. The camera picked up a
quick exchange of adolescent laughter and then the body was quickly dragged
away.
The scene switched again to the
studio, where the man named Walter looked visibly shaken. “Giselle, are you there? Can you hear me? Tommy, what about you?
Are you okay?” After an
uncomfortable silence, Walter looked stoically into the camera and said, “It
appears we have lost contact with our crew in Paris. I ask that our viewers, what few of you remain, join me in
praying for their safety.” He smiled
wanly. “At this point, I think payers
are all we have.”
The picture faded away. “I regret the violent nature of the
recording,” said Salla from across the table.
“This is just one example of the many broadcasts that reference a Dawn
Plague or a group known as the Dawners.
If our translations are accurate, we believe that they were responsible
for spreading this plague. Do you know
of this organization?”
“Yes, of course,” said
Simon. “They were a conservative
religious group. Very politically
active around the world. But they were
never violent. I had friends who were
Dawners, for Christ’s sake!” He slammed
his fist on the table. “Do you have any
idea when this happened?”
“Your calendar system is still
something of a puzzle to us,” said Reth.
“But many of the broadcast display a number that would appear to be a
date: two-zero-five-nine.”
“Twenty fifty-nine?” said
Simon. He hesitated before
continuing. “And you said that several
years have passed since then?”
“Our probes recorded another
twenty-three revolutions around your sun before we arrived,” said Reth
matter-of-factly.
Simon felt like he had been
kicked in the stomach. “So you’re
telling me it’s now twenty eighty-two?”
“That would appear to be the
case,” said Salla. The Captain looked
at Simon with her sea green eyes. “How
long were you in cryosleep before we found you, Simonkrenz?”
“Over fifty years.” His words were barely audible. “They told me not to worry. They told me it was safe.”
Tiska rose from his chair. “You do not look well. I shall accompany you back to the sickbay.”
“There are other recordings that
require his interpretation,” said Reth.
Salla made a clicking
sound. “Such things can wait, Primary
Reth. This sentient has endured much,
both in mind and body.” She rose and
walked around the long table to where Simon was sitting. He was staring listlessly at the floor. “Is anyone left?” he said without looking
up.
“We have detected scattered
pockets of human life, but the virus still roams free. We suspect that they are immune, but their
bodies serve as carriers. The stasis
field on your cryotube protected you from infection, but you would die if you
now came into contact with any of the survivors.”
Simon’s mouth twisted into a
bitter smirk. “The news just keeps
getting better and better, doesn’t it?”
Tiska offered one of his taloned
hands to Simon. “Let me assist you to
stand.”
With Tiska’s help and some
effort, Simon got to his feet. The two
of them started for the door when Salla said, “Forgive me for posing just one
question, Simonkrenz.”
Simon looked back over his
shoulder, his face pale like the moon.
“What?”
“Why were you in cryosleep? The facility’s records were damaged beyond
repair.”
“To be with my wife. She was dying and we were waiting for a
cure.” His eyes became moist as he
spoke. “I guess time wasn’t on our side.”
With that, he turned and walked
out of the room, his right arm slung across Tiska’s back for support.
***
“What will you do after I’m
gone?”
The question came out of
nowhere. They were sitting together on
the antique swing that hung from their back porch. The sun was dipping below the horizon and a few crickets were
beginning to chirp as twilight settled in. He gave her a sidelong glance. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Simon.” She said his name with a mixture of
impatience and tenderness. “Don’t tell
me you haven’t given it any thought.”
“None,” he said, staring
straight ahead, but he could feel the heat of her gaze.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to beat
this, Ell. There are still treatments
we haven’t tried yet.”
Ellen snorted. “What?
Like those Chinese herbs your nutty cousin the naturopath
suggested?” She clapped her hands
together. “Oh, I know! We can fly down to Mexico and try an
untested gene therapy that might create even more tumors. Won’t that be fun?”
Now he did look at her. “The articles on the Net mentioned some
positive results in animals. I wish you would at least consider it.”
Ellen grimaced. “And risk spending my last few months in
more pain than I’m in now? No thanks,
I’ll pass.”
They sat in silence for a
moment. For the past five months, Simon
had watched Ellen slowly lose hope of winning the battle against the malignancy
growing deep within her cerebral cortex.
Each unsuccessful round of radiation or gene therapy served to feed her
defeatism. They had been to clinics in
Rochester, Los Angeles, and Cleveland and exhausted much of their life savings,
but that didn’t concern Simon. What
concerned him was the expression of melancholy serenity on her face as they sat
in the offices of various oncologists and neurologists, hearing variations on
the same theme of I’m sorry, it’s not working. Her medical training and professional experience, as she
constantly reminded him, had given her several opportunities to study the very
same type of tumor that was now pushing against her temporal lobe. Ellen knew she was dying. And deep within himself, when he was lying
awake in bed at two in the morning, he knew it too. But Simon was always a stubborn man and it was not in Simon’s
nature to give up so easily.
Ellen curled up against him and
rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m
sorry, baby. I don’t mean to sound so
dismissive. I’m just feeling a little
run down today.”
He gently stroked her back
through the fabric of her sweater. Even
on warm spring evenings like tonight, she had trouble staying warm. “It’s okay.
But I want to ask you something and you have to promise to hear me out.”
“What is it?”
“Promise me first. “
She sighed. “All right, fine. Now tell me.”
The last sliver of sun had
dropped below the horizon and the edge of sky was turning from a rosy pink to a
delicate purple. Simon pulled his wife
close to him and said, “You remember my friend Ian Phelps from college? We saw him when we were in Denver a couple
years ago.”
She thought for a moment. “Yeah.
We had dinner with him and his boyfriend at some Mexican place.”
He nodded. “Right.
Well, Ian is a biologist specializing in cryoncs.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Simon.”
“Hang on. You promised you’d let me finish, or did you
forget?”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “No, I didn’t forget. Go ahead.”
“Thank you. There’s a company called BioNova and Ian is
one of their chief scientists. BioNova
puts people with severe illnesses into cryosleep until medicine has something better
to offer them. They’re opening a small
facility here in Minneapolis.”
Ellen pulled away from him. “Simon, I know where this is going. No way.
Uh uh.”
“Listen, Ian can get you on the
priority list. He knows about your
condition and he said you would make perfect a candidate for cryosleep.”
“Oh really?” Under the glow of the porch light, he could
see her cheeks flush as she glowered at him.
“And just how the fuck does he know about my ‘condition?’”
“Well, we’ve been exchanging
e-mails over the past couple weeks or so,” he said reluctantly.
“And you just thought you would
share my private medical information with your college buddy without
telling me?” She was almost shouting
now.
Simon held up his hands in a
conciliatory gesture. “Ellen, I know
you’re angry with me, but I needed to know if this was something worth
exploring. I didn’t want to say
anything earlier because—”
“Because you knew I’d say
no!” She rose from the swing and
stomped down the porch steps and stood in the yard with her arms crossed and
her back to him.
“Ell, c’mon!” Simon had accurately predicted her angry
reaction, but he still felt hurt.
“Don’t be this way. I think we
should talk about this more. Ian said
they already have about two dozen clients and there haven’t been any problems.”
“Well, good for them,” Ellen
said without turning around. “But let’s
see if they’re still bragging in a few months when their clients go into neural
shock and become psychotic when they’re revived!”
“It’s not like that. These aren’t some crazy Chinese scientists
experimenting on political prisoners!”
He got up and leaned on the porch railing. “These guys all did their postdoc work at Harvard and Stanford.”
“If that’s supposed to impress
me,” she said, “it doesn’t. Most of the
Chinese who got dragged before the World Court were Oxford educated, but they
still turned eleven innocent people into babbling psychopaths.”
“That was over ten years ago,
Ell,” said Simon. “Ian says they solved
the issue of dream suppression long ago.
You just go to sleep and that’s it.”
Ellen pretended not to hear
him. “I worked with some of those
patients, remember? Right before we got
married.”
“I remember,” said Simon. While in her last year of med school, Ellen
had had the opportunity to follow one of her professors to Hong Kong for three
months to join an international team of scientists sent to study and treat the
victims of forced cryosleep. She came
back with horror stories about people who were irrevocably insane because their
brains had never completely shut down in three years. No amount of drugs, implants, or surgery could restore these
people to their former selves. Ellen
treated a former university professor who, soon after being brought out of
cryosleep, had attempted to cut off his own genitals with a shard of glass in a
fit of paranoid rage. Ellen had railed
against the inhumanity and arrogance of the scientists who had tortured these
people under the guise of “research.”
“Then you should understand why
I will not consider cryosleep, no matter how safe your friend says it is.” Her tone was defiant.
Simon walked up behind her and
placed his hands on her shoulders. She
had lost so much weight and she felt as fragile as glass beneath his
fingertips. “Please talk to him, baby. He can show you their data.” He took a deep breath. “Ellen, we’re running out of time. We need to look at every option, no matter
how crazy it might seem.”
She spun around to face
him. “I know that! Do you think I don’t know that?” Tears were welling up in her eyes. “From the moment I saw those scans in the lab,
I knew time was running out! And I’m
trying to face this thing with some modicum of dignity, to make these last few
months meaningful in some way. But you
keep pushing for some kind of miracle, Simon!
And now you expect me to try something as insane as cryosleep?” She shook her head in bewilderment.
“Ell, this isn’t insane,” he
said firmly. “Remember what Doctor
Pahlavi said? That a treatment could be
ready in five, maybe ten years? This
would give you that time! For the past
five months I’ve been trying to find something, anything, that would
give us some hope! This is the best
thing to come along yet.” He wrung his
hands in frustration.
She stepped closer to him. “You really think this is worth pursuing?”
“I do.”
She chewed on her thumbnail
pensively. “Simon, if I did agree to
this, we don’t know for certain how long I would be in stasis. You could be waiting for me a long time. Have you thought about that?
Simon gathered her in his
arms. “Ellen, if I have to wait until
I’m an old man to see you again, it’s still better than facing the rest of life
without you.”
They held each other for a
while, not saying anything. The
crescent moon was peeking over the oak tree that stood watch in the middle of
the yard. Finally, Ellen pulled away
and said, “Something like this must cost a fortune.”
“We have enough,” Simon said
reassuringly. “We can sell some of our
retirement funds. Maybe rent out the
cabin in Ely.”
She looked up at the stars
scattered across the darkening sky.
“It’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” he said. He gazed at the stars with his wife. On their first date, he had taken her to a
field to watch the Perseid meteor shower.
He could vividly remember lying next to her on the soft earth as they
admired the spectacle above them. They had talked for hours, slowly revealing
themselves to each other. Driving back
to campus just before dawn, he had been filled with a tingling certainty that
he was going to marry the woman sleeping next to him in the passenger seat.
“Okay,” said Ellen, brushing a
wisp of hair from her face. “I’ll talk
to your friend tomorrow. But I’m not
promising anything. I’m still not
convinced this is a good idea, but I’m willing to listen to what he has to
say.”
Simon hugged her tightly.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He
kissed her on the lips and her eyelids.
“Thank you so much. I know this
can work. I know it.”
She caressed his cheek
lightly. “Let’s just see what happens,
okay? But I’m sorry I was angry with
you. You have been my rock through all
of this, and I know I can be a real self-centered bitch sometimes.”
“Stop.” He silenced her with a kiss. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.
And I’m going to do everything I can to keep you here with me.”
“I know,” Ellen said, tears running
freely down her cheeks. “And I love
you.” She shivered noticeably and
wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.
“It’s getting cold. Can we go
inside?”
Simon smiled and said, “Of
course. I’ll make some popcorn and we
can put on The Princess Bride, just like back in college.”
“That sounds good,” Ellen said
with a laugh. Simon took her hand and
led her up the porch steps and into their small house. After the movie, they made love slowly and
deliberately. As he drifted off to
sleep, his limbs intertwined with Ellen’s, Simon felt hope coursing through his
veins like a brushfire.
***
The next few days passed in a
haze for Simon. He spent most of the
time lying in bed in the infirmary, his mind still reeling from the sickening
knowledge he had gained from the aliens.
He had no appetite and ate sparingly.
He was listless and refused to do the exercises that Tiska insisted
upon. The alien physician became deeply
concerned for his well-being. On one
occasion when Tiska returned to the infirmary and saw that Simon had barely
touched his food, he asked, “Is there some way we can make our food more
pleasing to you? Perhaps our
technicians can attempt to replicate something more palatable. Our probes have some information on the
chemical composition of certain foods on your world.”
“The food’s fine, Tiska,” said
Simon. “I’m just not very hungry.”
“You cannot continue to refuse
nourishment, Simonkrenz. The body loses
much while in cryosleep. Your strength
will not return if you continue this course of action.”
“Is that so?” asked Simon.
“I am still not adept at
interpreting human vocal cues, but your statement seems to imply a lack of
concern. Am I mistaken?”
Simon sighed. “Look, maybe I’ll eat later. Can we drop the subject?”
“Very well,” said Tiska. “But I must continue making reports to the
captain. She requests constant updates on your status.”
Simon rolled on his side. “Tell the captain I appreciate her
concern. I’m really tired, Tiska. Please let me sleep.”
“I have also noticed how you
spend an inordinate amount of time sleeping,” said Tiska, ignoring his
request. “I do not think this is
advisable.”
Simon sat up in bed. His face was flushed with anger. “Look, I know you’re trying to help. But right now, I just want to be left
alone. My wife is dead and so is
everyone else I knew. Jesus, I can’t
even go back to Earth! So excuse me if
I don’t feel like socializing.” He
rolled over again and brought his knees up to his chest. “Just go away. Please.”
Tiska seemed unfazed by Simon’s
outburst. “I respect your desire for
solitude. I will return later to monitor your bioscans. Rest well.”
The door slid open and shut and Simon was alone.
He slept fitfully. He dreamed of Ellen brushing her hair at the
bureau in their bedroom; the morning sun filling the room and streaming through
her hair. She was humming a nameless
tune and she smiled gloriously as she caught his reflection in the mirror
mounted above the bureau. But then his
dream changed. Ellen rose from her
chair and walked downstairs. He felt
compelled to follow her, and so he did.
He followed her to the front door and watched as Ellen turned the knob
and flung the door open. He couldn’t
make out anything past the door because a thick gray fog obscured everything. She stepped outside and disappeared into the
mist. He called after her and, after a
moment’s hesitancy, walked out of the house.
The fog suddenly lifted and he found himself in a cornfield, his house
nowhere in sight. Night had fallen and
the cornstalks rose above his head on all sides, encasing him in shadow. He called Ellen’s name again, but all he
heard was the wind rustling through the corn.
He blindly ran through the stalks while screaming her name. He desperately wanted to find his way out of
the field, but it seemed to stretch on forever…
He awoke with a start. His skin was covered with a fine sheen of
sweat and his heart was thumping in his chest.
He was further startled to see Captain Salla standing over the bed and
staring at him with her unblinking reptilian eyes. He rubbed his own eyes and said, “Captain Salla? How long have you been standing there?”
“The stars shine brightly,
Simonkrenz,” she said by way of greeting.
“A few cycles. Please forgive
the intrusion. I did not mean to
interrupt your rest period.”
He didn’t feel like asking her
how long a “cycle” was. “It’s
okay.” With a grunt, he sat up in
bed. “I haven’t been sleeping that well
anyway.”
“You seemed rather agitated,”
said Salla. “You were saying a
particular word repeatedly.
Ell’inn.” The translator cut out
as Salla spoke the last word and Simon heard the throaty rumble of her
unmodulated voice.
“Ellen,” said Simon grimly. “That’s my wife’s name. I was having a dream about her.”
“A dream, of course,” said
Salla. “We Serka also dream, although
many other species in the Many Worlds do not experience such phenomena. Was it pleasant, this dream of your mate?”
“Not especially.” He carefully eased himself off the bed. He was wearing a loose-fitting jumpsuit that
Tiska had created with some help from the ship’s assembler. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than
the oversized robe. “But I don’t really
want to talk about it. Was there a
reason you came to see me?”
“Yes,” said Salla. “I was hoping you would join me for a meal
and conversation. There are some things
I would like to discuss with you.”
“I don’t think I would be very
good company,” he said doubtfully.
Salla bowed her head. “You would bestow great honor upon me if you
accepted my invitation. We have
prepared food that will be to your liking.”
Simon eyed the captain
suspiciously. “Did Tiska put you up to
this?”
“Healer Tiska has been apprising
me of your condition, as is his duty.”
The translator made it difficult to read Serkan emotions, but Simon
detected a hint of reproach in Salla’s words.
“Your health concerns me, but it is customary for the captain of a
Contact ship to dine with representatives of a newly contacted species. Considering the circumstances, I did not
feel it was appropriate to issue an invitation until now.”
Simon felt a little foolish for
questioning Salla’s motives. Despite
his own emotional turmoil, he was beginning to realize that the whole situation
was uncomfortable for his hosts as well.
They had not come here expecting to find a ravaged world, and its only
representative a traumatized and grieving middle-aged man whose only knowledge
of extraterrestrials came from the occasional episode of Star Trek he
had watched as a child. “Forgive me,
Captain. My parents did raise me to
have some manners, believe it or not. I
will certainly join you.”
“I am pleased, Simonkrenz. All the preparations have been made. Shall we proceed?”
Simon nodded in agreement. They left the infirmary and made their way
back to the Captain’s private chambers adjoining the bridge. As they walked, Simon was a little surprised
to discover that his gait was a bit steadier and he didn’t tire as easily. They arrived at the bridge and the Captain
paused at one of the terminals to exchange a few words with one of the
crewmembers. They spoke in a staccato
rhythm of rough syllabants that was completely unintelligible to Simon. The Captain finished the conversation and
led Simon into her chambers. The long
conference table had been shortened considerably and a chair had been placed on
either end. After they were both
seated, two Serka entered the room carrying large platters of food and an
ornate decanter filled with a pale amber liquid. They set one platter before Simon and he gasped in
astonishment. “Chicken! This looks like roasted chicken!”
“Please try it and tell me if it
is satisfactory,” said Salla.
Simon sliced a piece of meat
with the sharp-looking utensil that also rested on his platter. He popped it into his mouth and chewed while
the Captain and her subordinates looked on.
The texture of the “chicken” was slightly waxy and it tasted a little
too salty, but it still bore a remarkable resemblance to the real thing. He smiled broadly while he finished
chewing. “It’s fabulous,” he said
sincerely. “And mashed potatoes,
too! How did you do all this?”
“Our probes had
the opportunity to gather a great deal of information from your data libraries
scattered around Earth,” said Salla as the stewards placed the other platter
before her. It held small chunks of a
brownish meat and spears of a pale yellow vegetable. “It required some effort, but our assemblers were able to
recreate the necessary chemical components.”
“Tiska
mentioned that you might be able to do that,” said Simon as he took another
bite. “But I didn’t believe him.”
Salla impaled a
piece of meat with one of her talons and brought it to her mouth. The sight of her rows of pointed teeth still
unnerved Simon. She gulped down her
food without chewing and said, “The technology is remarkable. The Many Worlds have enjoyed the benefits of
nano-assemblers for only a few centuries, which makes it relatively new
compared to much of our technology. I
will show you how the process works, if that would interest you.”
“Yes, I’d like
that,” said Simon.
The
stewards left and they ate in silence.
Simon poured himself some of the amber liquid. It was cold and sweet on his tongue. “It is the nectar of taali, a flowering plant from our
homeworld.”
“It’s
very good. Where exactly is your
world?”
“I believe you would refer to
our star as Tau Ceti, approximately twelve light years from here. Would you like to see an image of my world?”
Simon nodded. “Absolutely.”
Salla uttered a short command
and the room grew dark. A shaft of
light rose from the floor next to Simon and resolved into a planet resplendent
in various shades of blue and green.
Two large continents covered much of one hemisphere, connected by a thin
strip of land that resembled a comma.
As the image rotated, Simon saw a chain of islands come into view. There must have been dozens, maybe hundreds,
of big and small islands scattered just below the equator. The rest of the planet was water with small
polar caps of ice. Three moons circled
the planet in a graceful ballet of physics and gravity.
“It’s beautiful,” said Simon.
“It is called S’rak, which means
‘nest’ in our language,” said Salla.
“My travels have brought me to many worlds and I have seen wonders too
numerous to count, but the view of the Great Western Sea from my family’s home,
under the light of the Three Watchers, is what I see in my dreams.”
“Is it difficult to be away from
home for such long periods of time, Captain?”
Salla tilted her head to one
side. “I have a mate, but he is an
ambassador with our diplomatic corps and is stationed on another world. We see each other as time permits. But I have always wanted to be out among the
stars, ever since I was a young one. My
people have a long history of exploration and service on a Contact ship is seen
as a noble occupation. Someday, I will
return to S’rak and perhaps train the next generation of officers in the
Shining Halls. Someday.” Salla made a low rumbling sound that Simon
was beginning to associate with amusement.
“And you, Simonkrenz? Tell me
about your life on Earth.”
Simon cleared his throat
nervously. “Well, I was a lawyer.” Salla stared at him blankly. “I, uh, prosecuted those who were accused of
committing crimes.”
“Ah, yes,” said Salla. “We have gathered some information on your
codes of laws, although much of it remains incomprehensible to us. Our cultural surveyors have requested some
time to interview you. They have many
questions, as you can imagine.”
Simon shifted in his seat. He had been searching for a way to ask the
question that was burning on his tongue and finally decided that being direct
was the best approach. “Captain, I’m
not sure how to ask this, but what is going to happen to me?”
Salla’s jade eyes narrowed to
slits. “Now we come to the reason I asked
you to dine with me. To discuss your
future.” She pushed her platter of food
aside. “My crew’s survey of Earth is
nearing completion. The data that we
have gathered will be brought back to the Council for further study. And we are due for repairs as well.” She leaned forward slightly. “It is time for us to go home, sentient
one. And, if you will permit us, we
shall take you with us.”
Simon looked bewildered. “Take me with?”
“Surely you did not expect us to
bring you back to the surface and abandon you?” said Salla.
“I—I’m not sure I want to
leave,” said Simon.
“Simonkrenz, consider your
situation for a moment,” said Salla patiently.
“Your world is not as you left it when you entered cryosleep. The people you knew, including your mate, are
dead. Much of your world lies in ruin
and those who survive live a precarious existence. One of my junior officers was nearly killed by an armed band of
humans while surveying one of the cities on your eastern coast.” Salla regarded him closely. “If we left you behind, you would be dead in
a matter of days. Both humans and
animals carry the virus and you would inevitably come in contact with it. As Captain of a Contact ship, I would be
derelict in my duty to allow something like that that to occur.”
He knew Salla was probably
right, but how could she expect him to just agree to something like this? “But if I go with you, then what? I don’t have any skills that would be of use
to you. I was never very good at
science. Hell, that’s why I went to law
school. I’d be like a caveman to your
people.”
The Captain made a clicking
sound. “You judge your own value too
harshly. You survived the tragedy that
has nearly annihilated your race. You
remember how things were before the virus.
While you may not realize this, you have much to teach us. Scholars from across the Many Worlds will be
competing for your time for years to come.”
“You make it sound like I’ll be
on display,” said Simon warily. “I’m
not sure I like the sound of that.”
“No, you misinterpret
my words,” said Salla. She rose from
her chair and walked to one of the pedestals that displayed her art
collection. She came back to Simon
carrying a small black cube. “I want to
show you something.” She handed the
cube to Simon. He turned it over in his
hand. It was perfectly flat and had no
discernible markings or features.
“What is it?”
“Many years ago, soon after I
had completed my training at the Shining Halls, I was assigned to a survey
vessel. The Council was searching for
possible candidate worlds for colonization and our mission was to explore far
beyond the borders of the Many Worlds.
If we encountered a new species during our journeys, we were instructed
to summon a Contact ship.
“We eventually found ourselves
in a sector of space that had not been previously charted. Our ship’s sensors picked up a weak,
undecipherable radio signal originating from a nearby solar system. Our captain quickly informed the Council of
our discovery, but we were informed that no Contact ship would be available for
some time. We were instructed to
investigate the source of the signal, but not to establish direct contact with
any sentient race we might find. We
traced the signal to a desert world orbiting a star preparing to go nova.”
“What did you find?” asked
Simon, wondering what this story had to do with him.
“The Council needn’t have been
concerned with us making accidental contact with anyone,” said Salla. “The planet was barren of life. Completely sterile. Our scans of the planet showed high
concentrations of radiation usually associated with nuclear and plasma
weapons. We surmised that the
inhabitants of this world had destroyed themselves in a massive conflict many
centuries ago. But the signal was still
transmitting from the surface. I joined
the survey team led by our captain to search for the cause of this mysterious
signal.
“Some structures had survived
the holocaust. We tracked the signal to
one such structure standing alone in the middle of the wastelands. What its purpose was, I cannot say. It may have been a shelter or a military
facility or something else entirely.
The structure was airtight and we found some preserved corpses and this
black cube that you now hold in your hand.”
Simon understood. “The cube was sending the signal.”
“Exactly. And it stopped transmitting as soon as we
removed it from its niche in the wall.
We tried to make it broadcast again, but all of our attempts failed. After our survey was complete, we brought it
back to the Council, where some of our best scientists studied this little
cube. But its material is impenetrable
to our scans. We had recordings of its
transmission, but it seems to be just a series of random pulses with no
recognizable pattern.
“Time passed and then war
came. I forgot about our journey to the
dead world and the strange little artifact we discovered there. After the war, when I became Captain of the Rohtann,
my former captain gave me this cube as a gift.
He was a Dentari and close friends with the Council’s Science Minister,
who had permitted him to give the cube to me.
He told me to keep it as a reminder.”
“A reminder of what?” asked
Simon.
“A reminder of why I choose to
serve on a Contact ship,” said Salla.
“Life is fragile. For every
species we invite into the Many Worlds, there are probably ten that destroy
themselves before discovering that they are not alone in the universe.” She took the cube from Simon and placed it
back on its pedestal. “We were too late
to save the people who left behind this cube.
And now we can do nothing but mourn their passing.” She turned to face him. “Although it may not be evident to you,
Simonkrenz, we have not totally failed your race. You will be the living voice for those who died as well as for
those who remain. You will be an
ambassador of sorts.”
“An ambassador of a dying
world,” said Simon bitterly.
“Perhaps. But we have encountered other species who
experienced similar calamities and endured, even prospered.”
“And we have to leave everyone
else behind?”
Salla bowed her head
slightly. “You must understand, we
cannot take anyone else with us. We do
not yet know enough about the virus and we cannot risk exposing other species
to it.”
Simon sat back in the humongous
chair and shook his head. “I don’t know
anything about being an ambassador,” he said in exasperation. “I’m just a government worker,
Captain.” He covered his face with his
hands. “I miss my wife so much it
hurts. Part of me wishes I had died
along with her.”
“A famous Serka poet once wrote that grief is the fire that
smolders but is never quenched,” said Salla.
She walked over to where Simon sat and gently pulled his hands away from
his face. “You honor your mate with
your grief. You can also honor her by
sharing her memory, the memories of all that you knew, with the people of the
Many Worlds.”
Simon looked up at Salla and
nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” He stood and ran his hand nervously through
his thinning hair. “Okay, I’ll go. But I have one request to make before we
leave.”
“You have only to tell me and I
shall do everything in my power to grant it,” said Salla, her tail swishing
excitedly.
Simon told her.
***
“I do not understand why the
Captain approved this,” said Tiska after they cleared the docking seal. “You are placing yourself in unnecessary
danger.”
“Everything will be fine,
Tiska. The hazard suit will keep me
safe” said Simon as he peered out the cockpit window. “My God, your ship is beautiful.”
Reth was seated next to Simon at
the navigation controls. He briefly looked
up from his displays to admire the view of the Rohtann. “I agree with your assessment, sentient
one. I have seen her from this vantage
on hundreds of occasions, but I never grow weary of gazing upon it.”
The Rohtann had a
similar, swooping design as the shuttle they now occupied. Its bow curved gracefully upward like the
neck of a swan and the stern was split down the center to form two swept-back
wings. Its size was difficult to
measure, but Simon marveled at its enormity.
The ship reminded Simon of the origami cranes his elderly neighbor, Mr.
Takeshi, had always given to him as a kid whenever Simon shoveled his sidewalk
or mowed his lawn.
“Preparing for descent,” said
Reth. He tapped a few controls and
Simon felt himself being pressed back into his seat as the shuttle’s thrusters
fired. The Rohtann spun out of
view and was replaced by a stunning panorama of Earth. Simon instantly recognized the Horn of
Africa and the Arabian Peninsula.
Pearly gray clouds roiled over the Indian Ocean and he saw dim flashes
of lightning within them.
“Amazing,” whispered Simon. He was nearly moved to tears by the grandeur
displayed before him. This is how
the astronauts must have felt, he thought.
And then he realized with a pang of sorrow that he would probably be the
last human to enjoy this view for many years, centuries even.
The Earth grew rapidly in size
as the shuttle made its approach vector.
Simon unconsciously gripped the arms of his seat. “Are you enjoying your first view of your
planet from above?” said Tiska from the seat behind Simon, perhaps in an
attempt to calm his nerves.
“It’s spectacular,” said
Simon. “I never expected I would ever
see something like this.” He wiped his
eyes with the back of his hand. “Ellen
would have loved this.”
“We will be entering the
atmosphere momentarily,” said Reth.
The shuttle descended rapidly
over western Africa. Simon noticed
patches of white-hot plasma flickering just beyond the forward viewport. They were coming down on the nightside, so
the sky remained dark and it was impossible to see what lay below. If not for
Reth’s instruments, they would be flying blind.
“I have entered the coordinates
of our final destination,” said Reth.
“It will be a quick journey.”
The shuttled raced across the sky. They had now descended far enough that Simon
was able to discern the waters of the Atlantic flowing beneath them. They soon crossed the terminus into daylight
and the world was suddenly filled with a ruddy orange light.
Simon looked over his shoulder
and said, “Tiska, can I ask you something?”
The physician made a clicking
noise that Simon was beginning to figure out was the Serka equivalent of
nodding one’s head. “Certainly.”
“How many species are in the
Many Worlds?”
Tiska considered this question
for a moment. “The membership of the
Many Worlds is constantly expanding. We
currently have representatives from over sixty species spanning across a
hundred star systems.”
“Are there any species similar
to us?” asked Simon.
“To humans? The evolutionary path of each race is unique
and it is difficult to make comparisons.
But there are species that share some biological characteristics with
humans. The Azzqi, for example. They, along with the Serka and a few other
races, are one of the founding members of the Many Worlds.”
“And the Callenth, as well,”
said Reth. “Humans remind me a great
deal of the Callenth. Except for the
wings.”
Simon wasn’t sure if Reth was
trying to be humorous. “Wings?”
“Indeed,” said Reth. “The Callenth are a remarkable species. They were nearly exterminated in the war,
but they are a proud species and fought bravely in many key battles.”
“May I ask why you wish this
information?” said Tiska.
Simon shrugged. “Just wondering what to expect.”
A thin gray line had appeared on
the edge of the horizon. Simon pointed
and said, “Is that the coast?”
“Yes,” said Reth. He entered a command sequence and the
shuttle dove to a lower altitude. “I am
moving closer to the surface so that we will not be as visible to any hostile
forces on the ground.”
Simon, who had been watching the
coastline draw closer, snapped to head around to look at Reth. “What the hell is that supposed to
mean? Almost everyone’s dead. How can you be worried about ‘hostile
forces?’”
“The virus did not destroy the
weapons left behind by your military forces,” said Reth patiently. “One of our shuttles suffered some minor
damage after being hit by small arms fire near the city you call Los Angeles. We cannot be certain that they do not have
more potent weapons capable of bringing us down in mid-flight. The precaution may be unnecessary, but
Captain Salla ordered me to take every measure to ensure your safety.”
“Have you tried making contact
with any of the other survivors?” asked Simon.
“No offense, but they’re probably scared to death by the sight of you
and you can’t expect them to welcome you with open arms.”
“We have attempted to
communicate with them, but it seems to be a futile effort,” said Reth with
resignation. “I do not blame them for their
hostility. These people live in a
constant state of fear and are not prepared for the likes of us.” Reth made a small course adjustment and the
shuttle turned slightly to the north.
“I often wonder how we would have been received under more normal circumstances. Would your people have been more receptive
to our visit?”
“I’ve thought about that too,”
he said. “I don’t know. Maybe.
We’ve certainly imagined such things in books and movies. But in real life?” Simon spread his hands.
“Who knows? I’d like to think
most of us would have been able to handle it.
But then you have the fundamentalists.
The Dawners. I think they would
have had a tougher time.”
The navigation console beeped
softly. Reth checked the displays. “An interesting topic for further
conversation. We are approaching the
landing site. Excuse me while I prepare
for our approach.”
Simon nodded and
settled back in his seat. The
silver-gray waters of the Atlantic had given way to a blur of browns and
greens. On one or two occasions, Simon
thought he caught glimpse of a town, but they were traveling much too fast for
him to make out any detail. Looking
over at the nav display, he could see that they had just crossed over the
Virginia coastline and were heading north by northwest. The sun rose higher in the sky and Simon
could begin to make out ribbons of road and highway. They were clogged with the rusting carcasses of abandoned
automobiles and trucks. In some places,
the asphalt had begun to crumble away as the surrounding brush reclaimed the
land. The sight of the ruined highways
suddenly made tangible for Simon the true extent of Earth’s devastation. Until now, he had a glimmering of hope that
perhaps things weren’t quite as bad as what the Serka had told him. That maybe some areas had managed to isolate
themselves from the virus and survive unscathed. But now, looking over the miles and miles of desolation, he knew
that this was probably not likely.
Why? he thought. If this was the work of the Dawners, what
did they hope to accomplish? He
remembered Will Montoya and the other Dawners he and Ellen had known. They had been good, thoughtful people. They had strongly believed in the Dawner
Code of Morals and its harsh criticism of what they termed the “accommodationist”
branches of Christianity, but they had never come across as hateful or enamored
with the apocalypse. Had their friends
and neighbors participated in the events leading to the deaths of billions? Or had they been innocent victims of a small
group of zealots? He would never
know.
The shuttle slowed noticeably
and Reth said, “We have arrived.
Proceeding with landing cycle.”
Simon snapped out of his reverie and saw that they were hovering over
downtown Minneapolis. The glass pillar
of IDS Tower rose before them and he saw that hundreds of its glass windows had
been shattered. Much of the city’s
skyline remained, although they were dark, empty hulls of concrete and
steel. The city had changed some during
his years in cryosleep. He was
surprised to see that familiar landmarks like the Government Center had been
demolished and replaced by crystalline structures that sprouted from the ground
like shafts of ice.
They slowly descended into the
old Warehouse District on the north end of downtown. With a soft thud, they landed in the middle of a deserted
street. Tiska pulled out a small
rectangular device from the folds of his robe.
He touched its side and began to make a low thrumming sound. He studied it for a moment and said, “I am
not detecting any life signs in the immediate vicinity.”
“Very well,” said Reth. The three of them stood up and moved to the
airlock at the rear of the shuttle.
Reth turned to Simon and said, “You should seal your hazard suit before
I open the hatch.”
“Right,” he said. The hazard suit had been created by the
ship’s nano-assemblers with some design input from Tiska. It was a one-piece jumpsuit that clung
tightly to every inch of his skin. It
had a transparent hood that he now swung over his head. As soon as the hood touched the collar, the
fabric shifted to create an airtight seal.
“All set,” he said through the suit’s throat mike.
Reth touched a switch and the
airlock swung open. They stepped out
onto the empty street. The sky was
milky white and a thin layer of newly fallen snow covered the ground. Even through his hazard suit, Simon could
feel a slight chill in the air. It
feels like late February or early March, he thought.
“Is this location familiar to
you?” said Tiska.
He nodded slowly. “Yes.”
He looked up and down the street, which in his time had been lined with
small office buildings and warehouses converted into lofts. A few buildings had been renovated or
supplanted by newer structures, but he still knew exactly where he was. He pointed to the west and said, “It’s a
couple blocks that way, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Reth. “Follow me.”
Reth led them down the street to
a squat building that sat on the corner across from the burnt shell of a
department store. Part of the
building’s façade had been torn to rubble, possibly by the same calamity that
had destroyed the store. The engraved
sign hanging above the main entrance was worn away by time and weather, but a
few letters were still legible:
They carefully made their way
through the scattered shards of blackened glass and brick to a reception area
inside the building. “This is where my
survey team first detected the power signature of your cryotube,” said
Reth. “We had trouble localizing the
signal until we realized it was coming from underground. Come.”
A tidal wave of memory washed
over Simon as he followed Reth and Tiska down a darkened hallway. He remembered walking down this hall
before.
They reached a doorway at the
end of the hall marked Stairs. The door’s rusty hinges creaked loudly as
Tiska swung it open. It was too dark to
see anything inside, so Reth passed out three small pen-sized objects that
turned out to be powerful flashlights.
They stepped through the doorway and onto the top landing of a long
metal staircase.
“This staircase leads down to
the facility’s main storage area,” Reth said to Simon, his crimson eyes glowing
like twin rubies. “You must remember
that the stasis fields on the other cryotubes, including that of your mate’s,
failed long ago. She will not appear as
you remember her. Do you still wish to
proceed?”
“Yes,” he said resolutely. “I need to do this.”
“As you wish.” They began descending the staircase. Simon’s flashlight beam danced against the
walls as he tried to get a sense of where they were. The room was a large octagon with a high ceiling and divided into
several levels lined with catwalks that branched off from the stairs. Jutting from the walls of each level were
long rows of bullet-shaped cryotubes.
Simon estimated that there were three or four thousand tubes resting in
the darkness. And the people in them are all dead, he thought. Including Ellen.
Their footfalls echoed
throughout the cavernous chamber. Tiny
particles of dust drifted through the shafts of light probing about the
room. “This is my first time in this
place,” said Tiska, trailing Simon on the stairs. “I did not realize it was so expansive.”
“Neither did I,” said
Simon. “This wasn’t here when I went
under. Cryonics was just beginning to
enter the mainstream and lots of people didn’t trust it because it had been
misused in other countries.”
Tiska moved his light across the
silent rows. “It would appear that
those fears eventually dissipated.”
“I guess so,” said Simon.
“I am not certain, but I believe
your mate may be down on the next level,” said Reth from up ahead.
“What makes you say that?” asked
Simon.
“That is where we found you.”
They moved past a couple dozen
cryotubes before coming to one with its lid raised up. The padded interior still bore his body’s
indentation. Simon gazed at it for a
moment before casting his flashlight on the other nearby tubes. He brushed a thick layer of dust off of one
of them and read the engraving on the lid.
“Trice, Albert J.,” he
said. “Process date July twenty-third,
twenty thirty. That’s about six months
before Ellen.”
He found her without having to
look much further. He stood over the
cryotube with his heart pounding loudly in his ears. “This is it,” he said flatly.
The two aliens, who had been
inspecting some of the other tubes, came over to join him. “Shall we open it?” asked Tiska.
Simon thumbed the latch release,
but nothing happened. “I don’t think it
will open without power.”
“Then we will cut it open,” said
Reth. “Stand back, please.” He touched something on his flashlight and a
narrow beam of blue light shot out and struck the side of the tube. Reth slowly guided the beam along the tube’s
length. Showers of sparks flew off the
tube’s hard metal surface and their fiery glow briefly illuminated the entire
storage chamber.
Reth finished slicing and shut
off the beam. “Simonkrenz, would you
care to help me lift the lid?”
“Okay.” The two of them gripped the seam that Reth
had created and pushed up. The lid was
surprisingly heavy and Simon felt the muscles in his arms straining as the
raised it off the tube and let it drop to the floor. Tiska and Reth stepped back and time seemed to slow down for
Simon as he approached his wife’s tube and he bent over to look at her remains.
She was naked on her back with
her hands folded over her abdomen. Even
though the stasis field had shut down, the vacuum-sealed tube had minimized her
body’s decay. The flesh on her face was
sagging and the skin was ashen, but her long black hair still cascaded past her
shoulders and he could still see the small comma-shaped blemish just above her
left nipple. Her lips were slightly
parted as if she was dozing.
Simon reached out and cupped her
cheek with his hand. Her skin felt dry and fragile, like tissue paper. “Hey, baby,”
he said softly. “It’s good to see you
again. Been a while.” His vision blurred and he felt warm tears
streaming down his face. He gripped her
hands tightly in his. “I’m sorry,
Ellen. I’m sorry I didn’t tell
you. I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t know.” He wept over the body of his dead wife. For how long, he could not say.
Reth and Tiska said nothing, but their presence gave him some small
measure of comfort in the midst of his overwhelming grief.
Simon wiped the tears off his face
and looked down at his wife. “I have to
go now, Ellen. I’m going away with some
aliens, if you can believe that.” He
chuckled at his own words. “Life is
pretty strange, isn’t it? All of this
still seems like a bad dream to me. I
keep thinking that I’ll wake up and find you lying in bed next to me. But I don’t think that’s going to
happen.” His expression grew
somber. “I wanted to see you before I
left, baby. They’re taking me to
another world and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. And I wanted to get something from you, if that’s okay.”
He slipped her silver wedding
band off her finger. “Something to help
keep you close to me,” he whispered. He
put the ring into a small pocket on his jumpsuit and then leaned closer to her,
his lips brushing hers. “I love you,
Ellen. I always will. Goodbye.”
He stood up and nodded to Tiska.
Tiska approached the tube
holding a snub-nosed device. He
regarded Ellen for a moment. “The
stars shine brightly, Ell’ennkrenz. We
free you of the burden of flesh, so that you may begin your journey to
rebirth. Travel well.” He pointed the device at her and it emitted
a low, pulsing hum. Simon watched as an
ethereal glow surrounded Ellen’s body.
The light increased in intensity until Simon was forced to look away. When it faded, he looked back and saw that
the cryotube was empty.
Night
had spread over the city by the time they emerged from BioNova’s underground
facility. They returned to the shuttle
and Reth prepared for takeoff. Simon
collapsed into his seat and pulled off the hood, letting the cool recycled air
dry the sweat on his brow.
Tiska
touched him on the shoulder “May I see
the object you took from your wife?”
Simon
eyed him uncertainly. “It’s not
contaminated, if that’s what you’re worried about, Tiska. It was in an airtight cryotube and I doubt
it had the opportunity to pick up anything in the time I moved it to this
sealed pocket.”
“I am
not concerned about that,” the alien said.
“My studies of the virus indicate that it does not easily bind to
inanimate objects. I am simply
curious.”
Simon
shrugged and pulled the wedding band out of the jumpsuit and handed it to
Tiska. “It’s Ellen’s ring.”
“What is
its significance?” said Tiska.
Simon
paused for a moment, uncertain how to explain the concept of marriage to
him. “Well, in my culture, it’s
customary for a husband and wife to exchange rings during the marriage
ceremony. It’s a symbol of love and
devotion to each other.”
Tiska
held the ring up in front of him.
“There is something inscribed on the inner circumference. I must admit that I am not as adept at
reading your language as Reth or Captain Salla. What does it say?”
“Hmm? Oh, that’s just our wedding date. March third, twenty-twenty-two.”
“A
simple yet elegant adornment,” said Tiska, giving the ring back to Simon. “I am considering writing a brief analysis
of Earth’s cultural practices for an upcoming scientific conference on
Baasti. Perhaps you would be willing
to assist me?”
“Uh,
sure. I’m sure we’ll have some time on
the journey back to S’Rak.”
“Excellent.” Tiska’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “It will be my honor to designate you as a
co-author.”
Simon
smiled politely and turned to watch the landscape fall away as the shuttle
ascended. They broke through the
low-lying clouds into a sky glittering with stars. Reth plotted a course back to the Rohtann and swung his
seat sideways to look at Simon.
“Simonkrenz, I mean no offense, but I overheard you saying something on
the surface that I did not quite understand.”
“What
was that?” he asked.
“When
you were speaking to your mate, you said ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.’ I do not wish to pry, but what did you not
tell her?”
“No,
that’s okay.“ He took a deep breath
before continuing. “Ellen was very
sick when she decided to enter cryosleep.
I told her that a cure was coming soon, just to reassure her that she
wouldn’t be away too long. But I wasn’t
too confident about that myself. I
became more and more scared that she would be in cryosleep for decades. And I would be very old or dead by the time
she came out. I never told her my
fears. She never would have gone through
with it otherwise.”
He
vividly remembered walking beside Ellen as they wheeled her gurney into the
prep room. He remembered whispering
soothing words into her ear as they set up the intravenous line and
administered the first course of retardants.
I love you so much.
Everything will be fine. I’ll be
here when you wake up. Just relax and
go to sleep.
He remembered
returning home to an empty house and being unable to sleep that first night
with her gone. He remembered lying in
bed and how easy the decision suddenly seemed.
How it unfurled across his mind like a banner.
***
Will
paced up and down the length of the waiting room, which was visibly annoying
some of the other people sitting in the cushioned chairs. “What’s taking them so long?” he said as he
glanced at his watch in agitation.
Simon
looked up from the book he was reading.
“We’ve only been here twenty minutes or so. Now sit down. You’re
making me nervous. “
“Sorry.” Will squeezed his stocky frame into the seat
across from Simon’s. “These seats
aren’t very comfortable.”
Simon
set his book aside. “The seats are
fine. You just need to lose some
weight.”
His
friend rolled his eyes. “As if I don’t
get enough of that from Sujata. You’re
lucky I’m such a good friend, or I might have been terribly offended by that
little remark.”
“You’re
right,” said Simon with a grin. “Please
accept my most sincere apologies. “
Will
leaned forward and said in a low voice, “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes,
for the nth time!” Simon loved
his friend like a brother, but Will was beginning to exasperate him. “Everything’s arranged. I submitted my resignation ten days
ago. The money from selling the cabin
and the house is safely tucked away in interest-bearing T-bills and a couple
low-risk mutual funds. And whatever isn’t
in storage I’ve given away or sold. You
sure you don’t want my motorcycle? It’s
a classic.”
Will
shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I wouldn’t feel right taking any of your
things. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll keep it safe for you until you come
back. Whenever that is. Okay?”
“I
appreciate that, Will. And thanks for taking
on some of my caseload. You didn’t have
to do that.”
“Don’t
mention it. With the budget the way it
is, Chen is going to have a difficult time finding another county
attorney.” Will snorted in amusement. “He tried to get me to tell him where you
were going, but I played dumb.”
“Good. I don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing
except you and Ellen’s mom.”
The door
next to the receptionist’s desk opened and a pretty young lab technician
stepped out. “Simon? Simon Krenz?”
He waved
at the technician. “Here.” The two friends stood up and followed her
through the door to a small examination room.
“Mr.
Krenz, my name is Darcy and I’ll be prepping you for cryosleep,” said the
technician cheerfully. “Would you
please remove all your clothing and place it in the bin next to the exam
table? All of your personal items will
be kept in a secure location until you’re revived. After you’re done, just lie on the table. I’ll be back in a couple minutes to check
your vitals. Any questions?”
“Is Dr.
Phelps here?” he asked.
“Yes, he
is. He’ll be in to see you
shortly.” Darcy repeated that she’d be
right back and then left the exam room, closing the door behind her.
Will
turned away while Simon stripped off his clothes. “What did Ellen’s mom say when you told her you were doing this?”
“She
wasn’t thrilled with the idea,” he said.
“She told me I should go on with my life and just hope that a treatment
is developed for Ellen before too long.
She said she had already grieved for Ellen and she doesn’t want to
grieve for me too.”
“So she
doesn’t think this will work?”
Simon
tossed his clothes into the bin marked PERSONAL BELONGINGS and stretched out on
the exam table. “I don’t know. I think she’s worried that the cryotubes
will malfunction or that she’ll be dead by the time we’re revived. “ He covered his lower half with a thin sheet
that was draped over the edge of the table.
Will
turned around and looked for a place to sit.
He found a stool with wheels and pulled it up to the table’s side. “Well, you can’t blame her. Neither you nor Ellen will be truly dead,
but it will feel like it to her.”
“And
what do you think?”
Will
scratched his balding head. “Well, like
most good Dawners, I believe that cryonics is an unnatural way of prolonging
life and that it’s just one more piece of technology that further separates us
from God. But you already know
that.” He looked directly at Simon and
said, “I think you have to ask yourself whether you’re doing this for Ellen’s
sake or your own.”
Simon
nodded in agreement. “I know, and I’m
not sure I can answer that either way.
But I can’t bear the thought of coming home to an empty house, day after
day for who knows how many years. I
thought I could, but the reality of it hit me after she was gone.” He made a sweeping gesture. “I know this is a little crazy, but it feels
right to me.”
Someone
rapped on the door and it swung open. A
gaunt-looking man with a mop of curly dark hair and a crooked nose sauntered
into the room. He wore a white lab coat
with the words Ian Phelps, Ph.D.
stitched above the left breast pocket.
He shook Simon’s hand vigorously and said, “Simon! It’s good to see you! You ready to do this?”
“Hey,
Ian. Yeah, I’m ready. This is my friend Will Montoya. I was hoping he could stay with me during
the procedure. “
Phelps
reached over the exam table and shook Will’s hand. “Of course, of course.
Good to meet you.” He picked up
the chart hanging off the table’s railing and quickly scanned it. “This is kind of sudden, Simon. I assume you’ve considered your decision
carefully?”
“Yes. I’ve been through psych testing and I’m not clinically
depressed. The report should be in
there.”
Phelps nodded as he continued to
pore through the chart. “Yes, I see
it. Well, that’s good enough for
me. Has Darcy been in to see you? Ah, here she is.”
The door
opened and the technician rushed in.
“Sorry, got held up with another client. She was feeling a little apprehensive.” She stuck a thermometer in Simon’s mouth and began applying
monitor patches to his temples, chest, and abdomen.
“Anything
I need to know about?” asked Phelps.
“I gave
her a mild sedative and her son is with her.
She should be fine.” Darcy
pulled out the thermometer and glanced at the readout. “Temp’s normal.” She switched on the table’s display and studied it for a
moment. “Heartbeat is a little
elevated, though.”
Phelps
donned the stethoscope that had been hanging around his neck (Ellen always told
Simon that modern science would never replace the elegant but simple device)
and pressed against Simon’s bare chest.
He listened for a moment and then removed the stems from his ears. “Yeah, it’s a little fast. You feeling nervous, Simon?”
“A
little, maybe,” he said.
“Well, that’s
not too unusual. Darcy, let’s start the
IV.” As she set up the equipment,
Phelps explained that the IV was a cocktail of drugs that would greatly slow
his metabolism in preparation for his body’s entry into the stasis field. “It’s a bit like going into hypothermia,” he
said casually. “But it won’t hurt. You’ll just start to feel a little
cold. The cocktail also contains a
tranquilizer, so you’re going to get sleepy pretty soon. Do you have any questions before we begin?”
Simon
looked at his friend. “You know how to
access my will? Just in case?”
Will
nodded. “Yeah, but don’t you think like
that. You’ll wake up before you know it
with Ellen’s pretty face smiling down on you.”
He gave Simon’s shoulder a squeeze.
Simon
patted his friend’s arm and said to Phelps, “Okay, let’s go.”
Darcy
switched on a bright overhead light and swung it closer, causing him to blink
at the sudden brightness. “You’re going to feel a little prick, Mr. Krenz,” she
said. But he barely noticed the needle
slip under his skin. Simon’s thoughts had been racing in a million different
directions just a few minutes ago, but now, for some inexplicable reason, his
memory drifted back to that one afternoon in the park a few years ago. The smell of wet grass filled his nostrils
and for an instant he saw Ellen’s lithe body silhouetted by the setting
sun. He wondered what had stirred this
particular memory from its slumber in the deep recesses of his mind. The light?
Darcy
checked the flow of the IV pump and made a minor adjustment. Satisfied, she raised the side rails on the
exam table. Phelps leaned over him and
smiled thinly. “How you feeling now?”
“Alright.” Better than alright, in fact. He felt like he was floating about two
inches above the mattress. His fingers
and toes were gently tingling. “Feels
good, but kinda weird,” he said thickly.
“Well,
nothing wrong with a little buzz before you spend the next few years in cryo,
eh?” said Phelps with a dry chuckle.
“Let’s get you to the processing room.
Mr. Montoya, you’re welcome to follow us.“
They
wheeled him down the hall to a larger room with more sophisticated monitoring
equipment. With a little effort, Simon
turned his head to the left and saw the waiting cryotube with its lid swung
open. Its interior was filled with a
luminous blue haze that Simon, even in his growing stupor, guessed was the
stasis field. He turned back to
Will. “Thanks for staying with me,” he
said, the words forming ponderously on his lips.
“Don’t
mention it. Christ be with you,
Simon. You and Ellen. I’ll be praying for both of you.”
“We’re
increasing the IV drip, Simon,” said Phelps from somewhere far away. “I want you to start counting backwards from
twenty.”
“Twenty.” And now the cold Phelps had promised was
creeping throughout his body.
“Nineteen.” God, he felt
cold! He pictured his blood freezing
into microscopic rivulets of copper-tinged ice. “Eighteen.” He tried to
recall the warmth of Ellen’s skin, but the chattering of his teeth distracted
him. “Seventeen.” Had it been like this for Ellen? Had she been scared? Was this…?
Simon
slept and did not dream.
***
Tiska
and Reth accompanied Simon to the bridge, where they found Captain Salla seated
in the command chair, still wearing her translator pendant. She saw them enter and invited Simon to
stand beside her on the elevated platform.
“Tell me, did you accomplish your task, sentient one?”
“Yes,
thank you, Captain,” he said somberly.
“Tiska and Reth were both very helpful.”
“I am
pleased. Primary Reth, please assume
your station and prepare us for departure.”
“Yes,
Captain.” Reth sat in the chair to
Salla’s left and began issuing orders to the rest of the bridge crew.
Tiska
came closer and said, “If you do not require my presence here, Captain, I shall
return to the infirmary.”
“Honored
healer, perhaps you will stay to witness our departure.” She glanced sideways at Simon. “I think our new passenger would appreciate
his presence.”
Tiska
bowed his head. “Of course.” And Simon realized that he was glad that
Tiska was here. For some reason that he
couldn’t quite articulate, the alien physician felt familiar to him. Perhaps it was just because Tiska had been
the first Serka with whom he had come in contact.
“All stations report ready for
departure, Captain,” said Reth.
“Very
well,” said Salla. She studied the forward viewscreen for a moment. Earth with its twisted rivers and vast
oceans and wreaths of clouds. “I should
like to return here again, Simonkrenz,” she said softly. “Given time, we may develop a cure for this
virus and deliver it to your people.
And perhaps they will be more receptive to us. We were sent here to bring your world into the company of other
sentients.” Her crimson eyes glimmered
like jewels in the dim light of the bridge.
“I do not like leaving a task undone.
When the time comes to complete this task, you shall be our envoy. That is your calling, Simonkrenz. I am almost certain.”
Simon
tried to think of something to say, but words eluded him. He simply nodded and hoped that he wouldn’t
begin to cry again.
“Navigator,
break orbit and take us out of the system.”
The navigator acknowledged the order in Serkan and the hull of the ship
vibrated almost imperceptibly. On the
screen, Earth grew pale and distant.
A few
minutes later, the screen showed nothing but stars. “Captain,” said Simon in a shaky voice. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to go to my quarters for a
while.”
“Permission
granted. I shall look in upon you after
we enter jumpspace. Tiska, will you
accompany him?”
Tiska
and Simon left the bridge and took the lift down a few levels. Salla had insisted that he could not stay in
the infirmary for the entire voyage and had assigned him to one of the quarters
reserved for visiting dignitaries.
They had even furnished it with a bed and a desk with a link to the
ship’s library. Reth had promised to
teach him Serkan and Galactic Common in his spare time.
They
stopped at the entrance to his quarters.
“I shall be in the infirmary if you require anything,” said Tiska.
“Thanks,
Tiska. I just need to rest for a little
bit.”
The
healer bowed and turned to leave.
“Tiska, wait,” Simon called after him.
“Yes?”
“Would
you have done what I did? Would you
have put yourself into cryosleep?”
“My
friend, it matters not what I would have done.
Things are as they are. You had
no knowledge of future events and you cannot blame yourself for what has
happened.” Tiska tilted his head
slightly. “Your mate was devoted to you,
and you to her. That is all that
matters. Now, I will bid you good
resting. I believe Reth has left
something in your quarters that you may enjoy.” Tiska bowed again. “The
stars shine brightly, Simonkrenz.” And
with that, he left.
Simon
watched him go and then triggered the voicelock on the door. It slid open and he entered the spacious
living area. He sat on the edge of the
bed and pulled Ellen’s wedding band out of his pocket. He was about to lie back when he felt
something hard press into his back. He
sat up and looked behind him to see what it was.
He
marveled at the portable datapad. It
was almost identical to the one he had used in college. He switched it on and found that Reth had
left a message on the small display:
I INSTRUCTED
THE NANOASSEMBLERS TO BUILD THIS FOR YOU AFTER WE RECOVERED A SIMILAR OBJECT ON
A FIELD SURVEY. ONCE WE DISCOVERED ITS
PURPOSE, I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT FIND IT USEFUL FOR RECORDING YOUR THOUGHTS. AND PRESERVING YOUR MEMORIES. RETH.
Simon
fiddled with it for a bit before remembering how to activate the virtual
keyboard. Just then, he felt a touch of
vertigo, like he had lost his balance for a moment even though he was sitting
down. Jumpspace, he
thought. He set the wedding band on the
bed and flexed his fingers briefly.
He and
Ellen had written letters to each other frequently when she had been in
China. They had eschewed the more
common voice messaging or e-mail in favor of ink and paper. They somehow seemed more intimate, more
substantial.
Paper
and ink weren’t handy at the moment, but this would do. He sat back on the bed and began writing a
letter to his dead wife. It would be
the first of many.