He Without Sin

by Hyde, Ed

Finally I say, “You were in the medical training,” knowing full well that it’s not quite the right thing to say.

  She just smiles at first and then says, “It’s nice to meet you officially. I can’t stay. They just released the final crew rosters. I’m on the same team as you and Mark.”

  “Really? Glad to hear it. I know they’re out, but I haven’t looked for mine yet. We’ve known unofficially whose command we’ll be under for some time but…” I let a couple more seconds pass in silence. “You have to run?” She nods. “We’ll talk more sometime?”

  “Of course. ‘Bye,” she says breezily as she starts to move past me.

  “Wait. What… what are you?” I ask as I try to keep our conversation going.

  She turns back, looks at me for a second, then says, “I’m a woman.”

  I smile weakly and blush at my verbal incompetence.

  “And an astrophysicist by training. On the team, they’re calling me Navigator. Take your pick.”

  “I see,” I say, recovering somewhat. “Well, we need one of those.”

  “Which one?” she asks. With a wink and the slightest smile she heads in to pick up her order.

  Personal log entry number two. I’m getting the hang of this communicator now. It’s a universal device; we all have them. It doesn’t have the functionality I would pick for my personal use, but it is part of the job and it is the latest communication and computer technology. Gni-M model. Common name: genie. Can’t complain.

  We’ve been assigned to man the Hobbe. It’s a veteran craft recently refitted with the latest gadgetry. Named after Commander Lillian Hobbe: pioneer, leader, innovator, activist.

  I’ve got to figure a way to link this log with the main archiving system while somehow keeping it private. Dates and sequencing will be all taken care of.

  David has scheduled the last meeting before launch with the whole mission team and only the mission team. Compatibility studies are out and rosters too, like Carol said. Looks like Mark was wrong.

  I overreacted to Mark’s comments, I’m sure. He is a bit of an instigator. Likes to get reactions.

  I’ve got a get-together with the family coming up, and yes, Tom will be there. It’s scheduled for right after the last of their visits to the medical engineering center.

  I’ve now got that Jeff Sander’s contact info, and am hopeful to get a last update from him before we are completely cut off. Not a big deal; just curious.

  Shakeup

  It’s all over now but the shouting as they say. So far so good, and no surprises. Myself, I can’t concentrate and am ready to go. This is my team, my mission family, and the mood is generally quiet and thoughtful. I do like this Dylan kid—where did he come from? Clean cut and personable. He seems a little light on the technical side, but did well in our sessions together. Already I see us becoming friends. Plenty of time for that later.

  At some point you have to trust the compatibility algorithms, kind of like an arranged marriage but this way you get an entire extended family. Speaking of which, I’ve got to get out of here and see the real family before they all have to get back to their normal lives. But that’s wrong—it won’t be ‘normal’ at all anymore. Barring any accidents, they will be on this journey with me in a way. I can’t imagine how they pulled off these missions long ago with primitive medical technology. Coming home to strange people; everyone you knew long gone. Now the mission members and their families—that’s the key, the families— are all part of the Longevity Medical Program, or LMP.

  David is just outside the room, visible by the open door, talking to someone. I am inside with the rest of the team, or most of them anyway. I don’t like this standing about; let’s get on with it. I am distracted by keeping an eye on Carol without becoming obvious about it. Where has she got to now?

  “Lose somethin’ mate?” asks Grigor Bevan. I guess I’m being obvious after all. Grigor is the ship’s technician, charged with testing, tuning, maintenance and repair of the various shipboard systems. “You see it too, eh? They’ve gone missin’.”

  “Eh? Who? What do you mean?”

  “The Steves. They’re on the list; they’re not here. Somethin’s up.”

  The Steves are not related except by first name, but they look as if they could be father and son. Steve the elder is the leader of the Resources team, and Steve the junior is on that team as one of the subordinates.

  David enters and walks to the head table and sits in the center facing us. We take our seats and there is some shuffling and mumbling while we settle in. I’m expecting the ‘Let’s go, pat on the back, big hurrah, one-two-three break’ routine.

  I sit and look around discreetly when there’s a tap on my left shoulder. It’s Carol. She gives me a quick smile and nod. I guess, again, that my efforts to keep tabs on her have been detected. I try to think of something to say but she shushes me and nods toward the front. David is making an announcement.

  From the back of the room and up along the right hand wall walk three people. They join David at the front but do not sit. I get a sinking feeling as I recognize one of them.

  “… and Master Wesley Brachus will be leading the Resource team. He brings two of his best people with him, Tracy Cole and Lester Glavin. They each in turn bring a wealth of experience and expertise to the mix. Any questions for me or them?”

  Stunned silence, and I’m somewhat relieved by that; it means I’m not the only one in shock. I see Mark grinning at me, apparently pleased as punch at my reaction. David motions and the three take seats beside him.

  “I know this is last minute; I know the rosters you have are no longer up to date. Again, any questions or concerns?”

  Silence again.

  “I am sorry to report that we will not be accompanied by the Steves, as you all seem to call them,” says David who, noticing some sideways glances, continues with a surprisingly stern countenance, “and we are better off for the change. We are lucky Wesley is available and willing to join us and I expect you all to welcome these three into our group and work closely with them.”

  There are some additional seconds of silence. I don’t know the other two at all; have never seen them before. I wonder if the cool reception indicates that others here get the same bad vibe off Brachus that I do.

  “Welcome Master B,” says Mark at last, the first to acknowledge the new members. Nodding to the other two new faces, Mark adds, “Looking forward to getting to know you.”

  I can see the value of David. He has a history as a mission leader. Before that I hear he used his technical training in subordinate roles, starting right at the bottom on entry level, ground-based projects for the Academy. I worked with him here during the last cross-training sessions and, before that, had incidental contact with him around the complex. He is likeable and personable and has a certain aura of leadership and decisiveness. We haven’t yet clicked on a bud-to-bud level but, again, there’s time for that and then some.

  Mark is a given. He knows everyone, and his reputation for competence is widespread. Sure, he’s a character and hears a different drummer, but we need a character like that whether on a mission or in life in general. He’s a talker too. Should I even say he appears at home in the midst of small talk? I’m not jealous; well, maybe a little. He seems at ease around anyone and in any situation.

  The rest of the crew? I’ve gotten to know most of them over the days and weeks of preparation. I’m comfortable and confident with them.

  Besides David and Mark, there’s Grigor. He’s solid but with an edge. We’ve gotten along well whenever we’ve interacted so far, but I don’t seek him out socially. He’s a bit too aggressive for my taste.

  There’s Dr. Gleshert and Nurse Vanessa Ward, his assistant. The doc is a tough read, kinda touchy. He acts all tough too, but I think there’s more to him. I have to watch what I say around him though. Now, Vanessa is another story. She is an attractive brunette and a veteran who has crewed with Gleshert before. I’ve had to go through her for some of th
e pre-launch regimen. She’s competent and I like her. And she is just flirtatious enough to make interactions fun.

  Dylan Waters is, I believe, the youngest in the group. I could be wrong. Might be Craig Brown. I don’t know much about Dylan’s past, but he’s got a likeable demeanor. There’s a relaxed way about him—not indifferent, but quiet and calm. Dylan is assigned to the Resources team, which means he’ll be working under Brachus, but he told me his real interest is people. Craig is not assigned to any one area. He is of the same status as Rick Groth and Chris Seaborn—all three are true floaters; David can task them as needs arise.

  Alain Goodwin and Aileen Ireland are nominally with the Resources team as well. Alain and Aileen—I’m not kidding—these are their names. Fortunately they look nothing alike. Alain is rotund and looks self-conscious most of the time; Aileen is small, thin and waif-like. She is the only one I know of who was cross-trained on the Power and Energy systems. I don’t think she completed the training though. These two don’t talk much, at least not to me. I’ve not had a single conversation with either of them. On the other hand, I’m not getting any bad vibes from either party. So there’s that.

  Then there’s Porter. Not sure of his first name; I could find it in the records or messages if I had to. Starts with J. Nice guy. Friendly. Easy to talk to. Great to have a drink with. Hard to tell his age. He acts and talks young, but the hairline and glasses say something else. Very unusual to see glasses.

  There’s Navigator Carol. She’s a woman, I am told.

  Most of us have had it pounded into us that we will be used in not one, but several capacities, as the situations arise. That’s just fine with me. I don’t want to be stuck fiddling with electronics for the duration.

  There are, however, small subgroups with fixed job descriptions. There are helmsmen Winters and Pearce—one or the other will be at the controls of the ship at all times except when the ship is flying auto. A more demanding position, Power and Energy technician, is shared by three people. As far as I know, they have not been cross-trained on anything and don’t interact with anyone but each other. Mark, on the other hand, has received cross-training from them. He’s says it’s for a high level restricted-access project. Right.

  That makes a total of 22. Twenty-two people to cross the universe to another planet and return. Hardly seems enough. And we have to work together smoothly. After years of study, the Academy has developed reliable methods to select the optimum mix of personalities for long missions. Up until today, I have had faith that whatever roster was finally generated, we would get along well. After all, the compatibility study predicts…

  “Commander, have the compatibility studies been completed for this new mix? I don’t recall any additional…” I try to ask, but am cut off by Brachus before I can finish.

  “Most certainly they have,” he says with a smile.

  With a quick glance at Brachus, David adds, “Look, these new adds are uniquely qualified for their positions within our mission. Our compatibility coefficient has increased with their addition. Increased.” He looks steadily and directly at me. “Any other comments?”

  So much for trying to verbalize the unasked questions surrounding this last minute move. No more questions from me. Something catches my eye; it’s a ring on Lester’s right pinky. He is slowly tapping it up and down and it reflects a flash of light each time. Up, down, up, down.

  Grigor voices a concern, but I am still stinging from the glib response to my question to catch his. I do see Grigor is quieted right away with a seemingly well-practiced quick response followed by another stare-down. This is a new side of David.

  The meeting eventually breaks up and we all head in our own directions. I betray just a hint of my doubts to Dylan on the way out. He agrees, but trusts that the bigs know what they are doing. Besides, he said, he, Dylan, is in no position to make waves. What, am I a wave-maker? Didn’t David just issue a tsunami? Mark pulls out his usual blithe façade and tells us, “Settle down, it’s going to be a great ride.”

  He’s right. This is an important mission and it’s what I signed up for. Our actions will significantly influence at least one independent bio system and will help direct the course of future generations of our civilization. Dean Carson had a point yesterday. Settle down indeed.

  ______

  “This is it, folks. I don’t have long. Thanks for coming everyone. Uncle Joe, Nancy. Jare, I’m sorry you won’t be part of my team. Good luck to you—I know you’ll do fine. Tom,” I say, and have to pause as Joe shakes my hand, “I hope you know what you are doing. Things were sure to improve for you at Ming if you had stayed. Now I hear you’re on some sort of secret project…”

  “Top secret,” he says. “Don’t worry, it’s right up my alley, a benefit to mankind, and all that.”

  “Mom, Dad…” I say. But we’ve talked it out, there’s nothing to add. We finish with the usual terms of endearment and hugs all around.

  “Your medical visits went ok?” I ask my parents, and include Tom when I look at them.

  “Yes, we told you, everything’s fine,” says Dad with a firm smile. “Good luck son.”

  So, this is the last entry before launch. I know I’m supposed to get philosophical and wordy but it’s not happening.

  You can feel the tension in the crew but I may be misreading. For my part, I am not worried about launch per se, been there done that, but do feel strange in that I have never committed to anything for this long nor have I traveled to anywhere as remote as our destination. Being almost completely cut off from all communication with anyone but team members—now that’s something to think about. But, I do have this, my log, my diary. Granted it’s one sided communication, but there it is, the last remaining connection with home.

  Tom seemed genuinely excited about this testing gig he has lined up. I don’t know why but research and testing sounds to me like a good match for him. Way better than working in the data manipulation field, at least for Tom. He never liked to get into a rut. But his description of the testing was vague. I hope it’s nothing too dangerous. And why the secrecy?

  I did hear back from his co-worker, Jeff, but didn’t have time to read the message until just now. Too bad, but it looks like our newest teammate didn’t follow up like he said he would. Jeff heard nothing from any of the people or places at which Brachus said he would make introductions. Not only that, Jeff was unable to get in touch with him directly before launch. This does make some sense—it’s nota good idea to expect much from anyone when final prep is in full swing; everyone is swamped.

  Some of us peons got together briefly after David’s announcement. The mood has “settled down” a bit. I still don’t like it at all (“it” being not the new team mix, but the way it was presented) but am game to play along as best I can. The workings of the new roster will become evident over time—nothing to do now but wait and see.

  One sore point was raised: Surely David knew of this move before our last day. The Steves must’ve been told about it and been told to keep quiet. I saw both of them at the closing ceremonies and they let on nothing. So why was it kept quiet until the last minute? So many questions!

  I hope I haven’t forgotten anything important. Final medical coming up real fast; won’t be able to log after that until we are well under way.

  In Transit

  We are ready. The transition from ‘all aboard’ to ‘prepare for launch’ is short. It’s probably just my perception as we are all quite busy tackling our responsibilities. The orientation went well; I am situated in my quarters now and for the first time since the ship was sealed I have a chance to breathe. But not for long—time for launch is coming quick.

  ______

  Yes, we are on our way. No turning back now! I don’t know how the others are managing and haven’t had the time to talk to anyone but Vanessa during my routine checkup after launch. It’s interesting to see this crew at work, really, for the first time. Those who are directly responsible for the running of the
ship are totally focused; no small talk at all. Nice.

  We are still in communication with the ground. That’s part of my job, keeping the signals going and fixing it when they stop. So far, it’s been all routine. The normally expected glitches responding to the standard fixes. Very good, let’s keep it that way. I have to set everything on auto before they knock us out for the main leg of the trip.

  I’m a little nervous about the gravity wave business. Thankfully, there isn’t much time to be worried.

  “You’re next. Where do you want it?” Vanessa says straight-faced.

  “Pardon? It’s up to me?”

  “Never mind. It’s an old doctor joke. You feeling all right? Anything unusual? Anything?”

  I shake my head.

  “Good. Now, be a good boy and let me do you… I mean let me take care of you…” she teases while looking for a reaction from me.

  “Van, have you gone through this part before?”

  She gives me a serious look and then says, “Oh sure, don’t worry, you won’t know what hit you.”

  ______

  I can see my hands. I know I am dreaming and yet I am conscious of the fact that I can see my hands. I only remember doing this a couple times in my life. A clear thought arises: What would I see if I faced a mirror in my dreams? I am helping a neighbor outside of her place near where we used to live. The ground is torn up around the stump of a large bush. I am over the tangle of roots and using a hand axe to hack at one, then another, and another, with slow success. Someone, it must be the neighbor, calls out something about wood chips flying. I deliberately feel the edge of the axe; it is dull. Somehow I go to my little home shop and sharpen the axe, although no time seems to pass, and return to the roots. As I get down and begin to chop again, I realize that the root I am working on has already been cut free; they all have. I can see their whitish cut ends, wet with sap, in sharp contrast to the dark and dirt encrusted exterior of the roots. I am left puzzled by how this has happened as my waking mind slowly but surely takes hold. Groggy, I can feel the normal mechanisms of my consciousness resuming control.