by Bialois, CP
With Franklin’s seizure easing, the attendants lifted him onto the gurney and wheeled him out. Speechless, Winfield stood and watched until Doug grabbed him by the arms. “The swelling must have ruptured. It was so small, it didn’t show up on our tests.”
“My boy…”
“I’ll do everything I can.” Doug let go of him and hurried after the attendants.
Janice slowly approached the room and saw Winfield standing next to a bed with blood-stained sheets. With remarkable gentleness, Janice reached out to him. “Mr. Bowen.” He started at her touch, looking at her without any recognition. She guided him to the door as gently as she could. “My dad’s the best, Franklin will be fine. Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
Winfield nodded with a blank expression and allowed her to lead him back to where they were sitting a minute earlier. He moved out of instinct only; his mind was on the last image of his son and focusing all of the fights they had over the years. How would he tell Nancy he helped to kill their boy?
Chapter 11
Franklin continued wandering around the vast city he learned was called Pulchru Filia. He hadn’t the vaguest idea of what the words meant, only that they sounded beautiful and familiar. As he roamed, he saw more incredible sights that he couldn’t begin to fathom, one of those being an elevator that didn’t move from its position on the ground. The occupant would stand on a shimmering floor, rest their right hand on a box he assumed was a control. Then the portion above and below glowed and the person disappeared. When he asked about them they told him it was a spaceway. The answer didn’t help him and the only thing they offered was for him to try it.
After spending a great deal of time trying to decide if he should try the spaceway, he approached it like a wild animal would a scrap of food in a person‘s hand. He watched a handful of people use it before he stepped up. The control box wasn’t fastened to anything he could see and when he pushed on it, it didn’t move at all. He did notice it never disappeared with the person, and it had what he guessed was a scanning pad similar to the food dispensers.
He reached out and, after pulling his hand back three times as it brushed the metallic surface, he let his hand settle on the pad. A number came to his mind and everything around him glowed a bright, yet soft, gold. The next thing he knew, the glow faded and his surroundings changed. The walkway was gone, replaced with a lavish room enclosed on three sides, with the fourth opening onto a balcony of sorts. Around him, the furnishings looked every bit as comfortable as anything he ever sat or slept on. Paintings hung on the cream-colored walls at various locations.
“Hello?” He felt as though he were intruding in someone’s apartment. When no one answered, he thought it’d be alright if he looked around as long as he didn’t touch anything.
Before stepping out of the small alcove, he had to force his hand off of the control box as if it had a mind of its own. His next step took him down into the recessed center of the floor. The deep blue hue of the floor in the oval recess made it look like a rug from where he first saw it and, had he been in a hurry, he would’ve twisted or broken his ankle. It took him several minutes before he reached the balcony, and a couple more before he was brave enough to look over the edge. The sight that greeted him brought an immediate bout of vertigo. The people below him were mere specks moving along the walkways. Worse still, he was near the edge of the city where he could see a layer of clouds and a mountainous, green land below him. He was in a floating city miles above the ground. That explained why he hadn’t seen a single cloud above them since he arrived.
The thought made him swoon so he stepped back to where he felt safer. What number did he think of anyway? He used that as a way to avoid thinking about what he just saw. The number 136 came to mind and he felt his stomach swoon again. That was the floor number he was on! He let out a groan and rubbed a hand over his closed eyes.
“Greetings.” The sound of a voice so near scared him beyond belief.
“Jesus Christ!” He gasped for breath with a hand over his heart. “Sorry. I mean…” Sorry.
The elderly woman smiled at him with a kindness he came to expect from these people. “That is alright. We can speak as well. Some of us prefer such a method of communication.”
“Oh.” It was all he could think to say until he realized he was invading her space. “I’m sorry to intrude, I was just trying the space… thingy.”
She shook her head, causing her silver hair to dance over her shoulders. “There is no need. We come and leave freely.”
He nodded, not sure what else he should say. Instead, she broke the silence. “You are not from our city. Have you been to Pulchru Filia before?”
Franklin shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m definitely not from around here.”
“Have no worry then. It was a simple question, which you have answered. Where in the Empire are you from?”
“Empire?”
“Yes. I do not recognize your dress, so I assume it is far away.”
He glanced down and realized he was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a white T-shirt. It surprised him no one noticed him before then and if they had, why hadn’t they pointed at him? He definitely looked out of place when compared to the silver clothing his host wore.
“Um… I’m from Earth.” Why did he feel so strange saying that?
The woman’s eye widened, then returned to normal as she smiled. “Ah, you must be referring to Sol, which would make you a Terranplanter. How are they progressing on Sol?”
Franklin paused, not knowing how to answer. After a moment he told the truth—a version of it anyway. “They’re doing well, better than expected.”
She nodded. “It is always good to hear about them. I believe they are our most advanced colony, are they not?” Again he nodded, unsure of how to respond. There was a brief pause between them until she spoke again. “I wish them better futures than we face.”
Franklin’s face contorted as he tried to understand what she meant. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “My apologies. You have been off-world and have not heard.” She paused and the compassion on her face changed to one of deep sorrow.
He stepped forward to offer his assistance, but he was unsure how he could help. She saved him from his obvious embarrassment by shaking her head and motioning for him to sit across from her as she took her seat in the plush chair. “It is alright. I have lived for over three hundred years, and my own mortality does not worry me. I never thought our empire would end because of who we are. I fear what we are will be lost to the coldness of space.”
He followed her lead out of instinct while his mind tried to focus on her age. He never imagined anyone could live half as long as she claimed, but somehow he knew she was telling him the truth.
The much older woman stared at the floor as she imagined what the future of the universe would be like—so cold and dead without the billion-years-old human race traversing the stars on their daily business. For as long as there was recorded history, other intelligent life forms were never found. In many ways, her people were the observers of cosmic history. Who would take their place should the Disease end their reign?
Franklin sat where she indicated, but instead of contemplating such a vast vision, his gaze roamed about the room as he took in his surroundings. He had no way of knowing what was destined for these people, his ancestors. Despite everything, he was but a speck of sand on a universal beach and until then he remained blissfully unaware.
He wished he’d never tried the spaceway and intruded on her sanctuary. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words to express himself. When he did speak, the question he voiced wasn’t what he intended. “What do you mean by the end of the Empire?” His voice shook, though he didn’t know why.
The woman raised her head to look at him while a gentle smile spread across her face. It gave her eyes a haunted quality that made Franklin want to cry. “Yes, you haven’t heard.” She paused once more, but on
ly for a few seconds before continuing. “Our Expansion Fleet pierced the outer boundary of this galaxy. It may sound strange, but we have outgrown the habitable space here. At first all seemed well.” She swallowed, organizing her thoughts. “When one of the ships returned most of the crew was dying. Our scientists have been unable to isolate the cause aside from the symptoms.”
“Symptoms? What are they?” Franklin’s voice cracked when he spoke. For the duration of her story, he found himself unable to focus on anything else. He wanted to listen to her talk because her emotions swelled his heart and made it weep.
She took a deep breath and pursed her lips in thought. “You will see for yourself before too long. The disease is on our home world.”
He sat watching her for a moment, but when he opened his mouth to ask her another question he was surrounded by the familiar whiteness. Franklin looked around in shock as his gaze settled on the lone figure standing not more than ten feet away looking out into the white space surrounding them.
“Why?” Franklin’s memories were restored and the new images combined with the old ones to form a history of an Empire he feared no longer existed.
“That was our home world, Mekah.”
“Why?” Franklin clenched his hands into fists as his anger began to rise to dangerous levels.
“A short time ago, that woman died. She died after witnessing our people grow sick and die. Those worlds that avoided becoming sick attacked those that were with weapons beyond your ability to understand… but nothing could stop the disease except the expanse between this world and the others.”
“Why? Damn you! Why did you show me this?” Franklin was livid. His life was enough trouble before the weight of the universe was placed on his shoulders.
Tanok moved for the first time to look at Franklin. “You needed to see for yourself why you need to help.”
With everything he’d experienced, Franklin still had little understanding what was in his future, only now he was more willing to listen. “What can I do? I don’t know what you expect out of me.” Frantic, Franklin believed he finally lost his mind and grew tired of fighting against it. The sooner he allowed himself to be swept along, the easier it’d be for him. The decision not to fight anymore filled him with a peaceful calm he never before experienced. On some level, he did so because he wanted to help Tanok and the kind old woman he’d met, not because he was chosen or for any other reason. If believing himself insane would help, then so be it.
Not even a flinch or facial tick gave a hint as to what Tanok was thinking or feeling. “That you will learn. Come, there is a great deal of work to do. There will be a price to pay.”
Franklin nodded. What did he have to lose? A sharp pain in his head caused him to wince as Tanok stood, watching him.
“It has begun.”
*****
Doug stood in his light blue scrubs looking down at the freshly-shaven head of his patient. Until ten minutes ago, he was ready to believe he’d been imagining his gut feeling that something was wrong with Franklin. Now, he was ready to do what he could to save his life. While such things were common in medicine, he had hoped never to experience this himself. The staff, he was proud to say, handled the emergency perfectly.
Across from him, another resident, Doctor James Howell, stood watching the senior doctor preparing himself. While the stomach specialist was out of his league, he would assist as best he could. One of eight doctors in the hospital, he was the only one available since two were on vacation and the rest unable to be reached. This was one of the few times he ventured from the second floor on professional matters.
The two nurses and lone attendant left the rest of the hospital short-handed for the time being should anything of consequence happen, but the odds of that were slim. They wouldn’t be missed for some time, or until lunch for the other nurses. All three of them were nervous, as this was the first true emergency they ever faced. General practice was to send the critical patients to Settler’s Grove by helicopter, but the thirty minutes wouldn’t be fast enough. From what Doctor Doug had told them, they had another ten minutes at most, which would’ve meant their patient would be dead before help arrived.
Everyone remained quiet as they waited for Doug’s signal to begin. The sounds of the various devices filled the void while Doug waited for the vital readings to settle. This procedure was something he only witnessed before by way of video in the classroom. He didn’t want to wait too long, but beginning too early could prove just as disastrous.
When he felt the time was right, he nodded. “Doctor Howell, if you would please…” His voice froze when Franklin’s eyes opened despite the anesthesia. “What the… Nurse put him under!” His voice rose at the thought of the young man waking while he was inside his brain. If I hadn’t waited…
The nurse fumbled with the anesthesia mask as she tried to put it into place over Franklin’s mouth and nose. When she finally managed to get the mask in position, the patient caught her by the wrist before she could put it tightly over his face. With an inch at most separating him from the gas, he wouldn’t breathe in enough of it to become unconscious for several minutes.
“No, please. I’m alright.”
The room took a collective breath as all five pairs of eyes locked on him. The only sound was the rhythmic droning and beeping of the machines. The first one to find his voice was Doug. “But… your embolism…”
Franklin’s eyes moved from one person to another before settling on Doug. “I don’t know what that is, but I can tell you I’m fine.” He paused while he looked into the doctor’s eyes. “I’m fine, Doctor Doug. Would I be talking to you now if I wasn’t?” After a moment, he added, “Things are more complicated than you could possibly imagine.”
Doug couldn’t find an argument to counter him aside from demanding more tests. Franklin nodded his agreement and the rest of the operating room remained quiet, staring at each other in disbelief. This was an unprecedented turn of events.
*****
In the waiting area, Winfield Bowen sat with his hands clasped together in his lap. He wasn’t praying, it was something he gave up years earlier after his wife became sick. He believed in God, in fact, he could recite the Bible cover to cover. He just didn’t understand why a being as all-knowing and powerful as Jahova, would allow a woman like his wife to get sick and then his son to follow suit.
He was being punished through them, it was the only reason he could think of as to why any of it was happening. It was something Winfield realized when he talked to his wife Nancy after learning of Franklin’s accident. Winfield had been in the business of measuring one life against another’s for a long time. He did it to make a difference and he did, his name would go down as the man that saved countless American lives, but at the cost of his family. Since they took his son away for surgery all he could ask himself was, “Was it worth it?” and he didn’t like the answer.
Janice tried to ease his pain as best she was able, but she understood he could only be helped by himself. Still, she remained with him for the duration unless she went for coffee or other necessities. Winfield was grateful for all of her offered help but he preferred to be alone. A private man, he didn’t like for others to see him while at his weakest. Luck turned to favor him when Janice was outside on her cell phone calling her boyfriend to let him know what was happening.
So lost was he in his thoughts that Winfield didn’t notice the figure walking toward him until it stopped. With vague indifference he glanced up and leapt to his feet at seeing who it was. Doctor Doug’s face looked as though he just weathered a severe storm, but there was a gleam in his eye. Later, Winfield thought he imagined seeing it, right then it was worth anything in gold.
“How is he?”
Doctor Doug felt every bit as haggard as he looked. Unsure about what to say, he did what he did best. He told the truth. “We never operated.” Winfield’s gaze dropped and his body began to follow but Doug caught him by the shoulders and seemed to hold him up w
ith his will. The contact kept Winfield from drifting off into a deeper state of shock and while hanging in that hazy area between reality and disbelief Doug broke through. “He’s fine. As fine as he can be, I mean.”
Winfield looked at him. “How can that be? He should be…”
Doug nodded. “But he’s not. He sat up after the anesthesia was administered and told us he was fine.” Doug wanted to burst into laughter at the absurdity of the thought, had it not been real. Instead of feeling elated he was even more unnerved than before.
Hope showed brightly in Winfield’s eyes. “Then… he’s alive and well?”
“We’re running more tests now. I’m sorry but I don’t know what happened. Your son was ten minutes from dying and then… he wasn’t.”
A smile so large Doug feared it would swallow him appeared on Winfield Bowen’s face. “A miracle. It’s a miracle!” He slumped out of Doug’s relaxed grip and plopped into his chair with tears of joy running down his face. After a moment he composed himself enough so he could speak. “When can I see him?”
Good question, thought Doug. “In about an hour, it’ll take that long to complete the tests.’
Winfield nodded, grabbing Doug’s hand in both of his. “I know you didn’t do anything… but thank you.” Doug nodded and the other man let his hand go. Free of his grasp, Doug made his way for the entrance. He needed a breath of fresh air and a dose of reality.
Chapter 12
An hour. That was all he had to wait to see his son who should be dead, if not by the grace of God. Raised a Protestant, General Winfield Jackson Bowen had two books in the nightstand next to his bed at home: the United States Army Code of Conduct and the Holy Bible. While raising his son, Winfield tried to imbue everything that was good about both into his son, just as was done to him. At first, Franklin hung on every one of his father’s words and the child handled himself accordingly.