The Jovian Legacy

by Lilla Nicholas-Holt

  “How did you get there?” she continued.

  Carlos got Jack to type in the full story as it would have taken him forever. After Jack had finished typing, Carlos took over again, and typed, “I have a grandson?” He saw Sarah smile and turn to pick up the boy. She sat him on her lap so his face was fully in the screen.

  Carlos stated, “He has my eyes. Look Jack! He has my eyes, and my mouth! Look at him. He’s smiling - that’s my smile!” Carlos said feverishly.

  “Don’t tell me, tell Sarah. Type it in to her,” Jack said. Carlos did as he was told. Sarah laughed with joy. It was an incredibly emotional few minutes to witness.

  She typed, “This is Joseph.” She said something to the boy and Joseph smiled and waved at his newfound granddad.

  Carlos typed, “Hello Joseph,” and as he did so he said it to him. It was as if he was having a conversation with a deaf person, using a keyboard instead of sign language. Joseph carried on grinning. After a couple of minutes the little boy became bored of the computer game thing and started to fidget, so Sarah put him down and he shot out the door.

  Now that it was only his daughter and himself again, Carlos bombarded her with questions. He wanted to know everything - who was Joseph’s father, was she working as a fulltime mother, was her mother still alive. Sarah answered every question patiently. She trained young labradors to become guide dogs for the blind. Her initial career choice was to be a vet, but she’d been put off by the physically demanding and sometimes unattractive tasks that were expected of such a vocation. However, her love of animals was passionate and someone suggested guide dog training. While training she’d met Joseph’s father, who was an instructor at the training institute. Unfortunately, things hadn’t gone to plan and their union was short-lived. They’d parted company before Joseph was born.

  “It’s almost like history repeating itself, but not quite,” Carlos remarked to Jack.

  Sarah went on to type that she’d had a year off with Joseph and returned to work for two days a week while Joseph spent time at day-care one day a week, and the other day with her mother.

  “Glenys?” Carlos plonked out, one-fingered.

  “Yes. Mum is well. She…” Sarah started to type then stopped, her fingers poised.

  “It’s okay,” Carlos typed encouragingly, although he had secretly tensed up.

  Sarah continued, “Mum married when I was four years old. He is a good man. But she has always spoken of you. She kept your memory alive for me by talking about you and showing me photos. She told me how devastated she was when you went missing and feared that she would miscarry me. Mum has always spoken of you like she still holds a deep love for you, although I know she adores Father.”

  “The man who brought me up as his daughter,” she added awkwardly.

  Carlos had to swallow his pride and Jack discerned how shaken up he was by it.

  He dictated to Jack what to type back. “Of course, after all, I was presumed dead.” Carlos forced a smile. “She couldn’t wait around forever hoping for a miracle, could she? Will you tell her about our contact?”

  Jack knew it was time to bow out and leave them to it. He went home to share his news with Megan, who became as excited as he was.

  “One mission accomplished,” he said to Megan, “Carlos Dimitri will be documented as my first successful contact.” He felt a great sense of achievement.

  Jack’s discovery was hot news in Thebes. He was flavour of the month with the media, and once again the whole family was treated, as guests of Pharaoh Merenptah, to a sumptuous banquet at the Palace of Amon. The same dignitaries were there that Jack had first met on their arrival all those years ago: Premier Tiberius, Marquises Ahmose, Mentuhotpe, Khafe, Suphis, Apepi, Yakobaam, Sethos, Siptah, Twore, Seti, Remesses, Pinedjem, Smendes, Meryamun, Shoshonk, Osorkon, Darius, Piyi, Hakoris, and Marqui Sheshonq. They made a special presentation to Jack - an award of achievement and a cheque for 30,000 Egyptian pounds.

  Jack’s next subject was Mr Ewen Griffiths; the man who piloted a Beechcraft Bonanza that ‘went missing’ soon after he had taken off from Andros Airport. Mr Griffiths’s historical information was similar to Carlos’s; in that he’d been married a year and his wife had had a baby on the way.

  “Let’s see if I can crack it for Ewen Griffiths,” Jack said over dinner that evening.

  Megan placed her hand on Jack’s across the table. “Can you take some time off, hon? We haven’t spent much time together lately, and I was beginning to forget what you looked like.”

  “Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we,” Jack replied with a cheeky grin.

  He teed up some friends and took Megan out clubbing to The Kantari, where they drank Karkaday, and where their enhanced senses enabled them to enjoy and respond uninhibitedly to a provocative extravagance of music and dance. They slipped back into the house just before dawn in happy exhaustion.

  Now that their relationship was back on track Jack plunged himself into his next mission. He organised a meeting with Ewen Griffiths and primed him for what they may discover. Ewen Griffiths was a nervous client. Jack had asked himself whether or not it was such a good idea after all, concerned that Ewen may not be able to handle the outcome.

  Jack searched through the same route as he had done for Carlos albeit this time faster as he now knew his way around. Unfortunately though, Griffiths was a vastly more common name than Dimitri, and Jack was faced with many to deal with. Unlike Carlos, who’d wanted to get in touch with his child, Ewen wanted to contact his wife. It had been several years ago, and Ewen felt quite apprehensive about it. Jack knew he had to narrow all the Griffiths down to one - Ewen Griffiths’s wife, who more than likely had remarried by now. He knew he had to tackle this one a little differently, by intercepting data held at Births, Deaths & Marriages; a tricky operation, but knew he had to keep trying. Ewen’s wife had married again, to a Mr David John Smith.

  “Excellent! From Griffiths to the world’s most common name of Smith. Someone’s got it in for me!” Jack complained to Megan.

  Luckily, Ewen took the news of her remarriage quite well. He said he knew in his heart that she would have anyway, as she was a needy person who continually required human contact. Still, he grieved for her, and needed to take a break from the investigations to think things through. He had to ask himself if it was worth continuing. He felt confused as to which way to go. Jack gave him space to let him make up his mind. Within two weeks Mr Griffiths rang Jack and told him he wished to continue. He wanted to find out about his children.

  “Okay, sweet,” Jack stated, not really wanting to do it. He had a hunch things might not turn out well. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then?”

  “Roger that,” Ewen replied with new enthusiasm.

  Ewen’s wife’s name was Patricia-Marie Rose Griffiths, now Smith.

  “Well, at least she has three Christian names to work on,” Jack said positively. “That should make it a little bit easier to track her down. Not many people have three Christian names.”

  Ewen and Jack sat transfixed with bated breath, looking through the computer screen into the home of Mr and Mrs David Smith. It had taken them twenty-seven days and nights to pin down the home of Ewen’s beloved wife and her relatively new husband of two years. It was a view into an exceptionally large kitchen and dining-cum-living area. To Jack they looked like entertainers judging by the size of the dining room suite with its many chairs.

  Within a short time they saw the couple walk into the room. Ewen sucked in his breath. The couple looked very happy together. The man, David Smith, went over to a sideboard and poured them both a drink. Jack could make out the label. Bacardi. The man and woman were oblivious to the two men watching their every move. When they turned and came closer to the computer, Ewen gasped.

  “What?” Jack questioned with urgency.

  “That’s not my Patty! I haven’t forgotten what she looks like and that’s definitely not her. Damn it, we must’ve gotten the wrong pla
ce.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jack replied, drawing his lips in a thin line. “Let’s see if there’s anything around that might tell us.”

  They manoeuvred the viewer around the room and Jack spotted a small pill bottle sitting on the coffee table. He zoomed in to read the label and discerned that it was a prescribed bottle of Prozac, for a Mrs Patricia-Marie Smith.

  “We’ve got the right place,” Jack assured him. “There’s a bottle of Prozac made out to your wife.”

  “Patty is on anti-depressants?” Ewen asked, his face falling again. Jack nodded his head, empathetic.

  The next thing they knew was that the man and the woman were kissing.

  “It’s like it’s all new to them…like…they’re having an affair,” Ewen said, horrified.

  The couple then put down their glasses, the man taking her hand as he led her out of the room. Jack didn’t know what to think. He felt rather uncomfortable to say the least.

  After an hour the man returned to the room alone. He removed the glasses and put away the Bacardi, disappeared from view, and a short time later, reappeared, switched on the television and sat down to watch. After another half hour or so, another woman came through the door. This time Ewen recognised his wife.

  “Oh my Lord she has aged!” he said in surprise.

  “Is there any wonder?” Jack quipped, then immediately regretted it.

  David Smith said something to her and she went straight into the kitchen and started preparing dinner. Her husband continued watching TV.

  “That son-of-a-bitch,” Ewen cursed, “wait till I get my hands on him!”

  Moments later, a pretty young woman entered the room, mid to late twenties, her brown, dead straight hair reaching down to her waist. She ignored David and went into the kitchen.

  Ewen’s expression changed from anger to awe. “That must be…” he trailed off.

  “Well, she could well be, but we don’t know that yet. Don’t get your hopes up,” Jack warned his friend. He knew that Ewen’s highly-strung nature could get the better of him.

  The two women went about organising dinner and when it was ready placed on the table. Only then did David Smith pick himself up off the couch and sit authoritatively at the head of the table. He didn’t so much as wait for all of them to sit down and start together, but simply tucked in. Without a word being said over the dinner table, David finished eating, rose from the table and planted himself back in front of the television again. The women tidied up, and when they’d finished Jack and Ewen watched as Patricia departed from the room into the hallway. The younger woman sat down in a couch chair and the pair watched TV for a while. David then moved over to the sideboard again and got himself another drink. He said something to the girl and she shook her head. Patricia then re-entered the room. She had her bathrobe on and had come in to fetch something before going back into the bathroom. David sat down in front of TV again with his drink.

  “That son-of-a-bitch!” Ewen cursed again, “he’s cheating on Patty. We have to warn her.”

  Jack switched the computer off.

  “What are you doing?” Ewen screamed.

  “I think we’ve seen enough for one day,” Jack stated evenly, “let’s go home.”

  “We can’t just go home! We have to tell Patty about him!” Ewen screamed even louder.

  Jack, feeling his frustration beginning to simmer, wanted to shouted back at him, but instead looked at his companion and felt sorry for him. “There’s nothing we can do. Ewen, we’re on another planet,” Jack said, trying not to sound facetious. Ewen looked devastated.

  “Look, it’s better that we try and initiate contact with the girls when David Smith is not in the house. We have to bide our time and watch his movements. There’s also the risk of him noticing us before the girls do. I’ll think of a way,” Jack assured, calming his friend down.

  Over the next couple of weeks they became aware that David Smith had been absent from the house on two Tuesdays.

  “Hopefully it’s a regular thing,” Jack said. “I reckon if he’s not there next Tuesday night, we should do it. It’ll be risky, but we should go for it. It’s our only chance.”

  “I’m keen,” Ewen said, “I can’t wait to expose that piece of shit to my family!”

  Jack stiffened. “Just take it easy, okay? You have to approach them carefully, one step at a time. They might freak out otherwise.”

  As far as Ewen was concerned it seemed like an eternity before the following Tuesday came around. He didn’t sleep a wink until then, and looked like something out of a horror movie when he turned up at the lab.

  “Oh great, I see you’ve planned to make an impression,” Jack sighed, staring at his dishevelled looking friend. Ewen licked his fingers and made an attempt to plaster his hair down.

  “How about you go and use my bathroom and tidy yourself up a bit? Perhaps have a shave?” Jack politely suggested. Ewen did as he was told and returned looking a hundred percent better.

  “That’ll do it,” Jack smiled.

  They prepared themselves for the contact, logging on and into the home of Mr and Mrs David John Smith. This time Jack switched on the speaker. It almost felt like they were lying in wait for their prey. After a moment Patricia entered the room and walked over to a bureau from which she took out a pile of bills and sat down to write cheques.

  “Hasn’t she heard of Internet banking yet?” Ewen mused.

  Jack did a quick laugh and then said, “Ready?”

  “Let’s do it!” replied an excited Ewen.

  Jack sounded a short repetitive tune to attract Patricia’s attention. At first she quickly looked up and around then buried herself back into her cheque writing. Jack turned up the speaker. Patricia then rose out of her chair and looked out the window, supposedly wondering where the music was coming from. Jack didn’t want to scare her by speaking into the microphone so he continued the tune. As Patricia turned her head, puzzled, she caught sight of the computer screen. She froze, and for a few seconds stared wide-eyed at the image of Jack and Ewen grinning at her.

  “Do something!” Ewen elbowed Jack.

  “Okay, okay,” Jack answered, rubbing his side. This time he spoke into the microphone.

  “Please don’t be alarmed, Mrs Smith,” Jack began. “May I introduce myself? I’m Jack Dunlop and we have contacted you from a very distant place. I would like to also introduce you to… Ewen Griffiths, your first husband.” Jack held his breath.

  The expression on her face remain the same for another ten seconds, then slowly made her way across to the computer and sat down in front of it. She said something but Jack couldn’t hear her. He told her to switch on the microphone.

  “Ewen?” Patricia enquired in a small voice. She looked lost, sad, and awfully tired. Her eyes showed she’d had a hard life.

  “Yes, Patty, it’s me. This is not a dream, my love; I didn’t lose my life in the Bermuda Triangle, I was propelled from my plane and ended up in this place. It’s called Jovian, and it’s thirty-five light years away from Earth.”

  “Oh, okay…” she answered, looking even more lost.

  Jack and Ewen glanced at each other and Jack decided to take over. “Jovian scientists have been taking people travelling across the Bermuda Triangle by aeroplanes and yachts for many years by transplanetary travel. People haven’t been going missing as such, but have been fortunate enough to have been given the chance to live in a perfect world free of disease and crime,” Jack thoroughly explained.

  “Sounds like Heaven,” Patricia answered, still not looking quite there.

  “Patricia - Ewen and I have taken quite a while to reach you, due to your marriage to Mr Smith. We would understand it if you chose not to continue our contact,” Jack explained.

  “What are you, nuts?” Ewen shouted at him.

  “Let me do this, Ewen,” Jack said in a low voice.

  Patricia began to laugh. “That’s my Ewen, fiery as ever! Oh, my darling, how I’ve missed you. I lov
e you so much.”

  They had got through to her. Tears streamed down her face, then tears streamed down Ewen’s face. Next, Patricia started kissing the screen, so Ewen did likewise. There was this extremely weird kissing thing going on, which Jack noticed was leaving marks all over the screen. He knew this was his cue, and quietly excused himself from the room, making a mental note to disinfect the screen later.

  The next morning Jack received a call from Ewen, who excitedly told him about what he and Patricia had talked about for the next few hours, not that Jack really wanted to know. He was happy for his friend though, and felt a great sense of achievement for completing his second contact, so he listened to what Ewen had to say.

  “By the way, Michelle is my daughter. I knew it as soon as I saw her anyway!” Ewen declared, on cloud nine.

  “Did you speak to her?” Jack asked.

  “No, she wasn’t there, she was out with friends. Patty is going to prepare her for meeting me next Tuesday though, when David goes to his poker game.”

  “Oh, okay. It’s going to be a long week for you then, isn’t it?” Jack pointed out, wondering how much of Ewen’s incessant talk he was going to have to put up with. Then he had an idea. He decided to set up the communication link from Ewen’s own computer. That way Ewen could hover over it for the rest of the week without annoying him, and he would simply go over to his house on Tuesday night to instigate it.

  Tuesday came around all too quickly for Jack. He drove over to Ewen’s house to initiate contact. Ewen greeted him at the door and Jack took a step back. He hardly recognised his friend. Ewen had gone out and had a ‘man makeover’ by one of the professional stylists in the city, and had also splashed out on buying himself a new suit.

  “Far out, you look great!” Jack praised.

  “Well, I’m meeting my daughter tonight, aren’t I?” he replied, puffing out his chest. “I have to look good for her.”

  “Good on ya, mate,” Jack said, patting him on the back. Let’s make a start then, shall we?”