by Hyde, Ed
“All right, I did a lot of research. There is a ton of history out there and some good ideas from previous missions.” I stop for a few seconds to make sure they are all listening and say, “But look guys, this is serious. Forget about our official directives; forget about David for a moment. What about these people? I think if we can help them we should.”
“I’ll second that,” agrees Dylan and there are nods all around.
“There has certainly been no lack of native interaction already, for better or worse, and my plan does not alter that, but the players have changed—to us.” I pause to let this sink in.
“Let’s assume the prediction made by David is correct and the genetic tracking and shepherding is over. The people are the people, genetics aside. Let’s try to make a positive difference in their development.”
We are meeting in my quarters. It’s a bit cramped and I suggest moving out to the mess hall. Mark is there, happily, and I begin to lead the way to join him. He is chewing and nods when I point to the empty spaces at his table. Before I sit, I see Brachus just outside the hall entry, motioning for me to come. I’m not going to avoid him, so I excuse myself for the moment.
“Yes?” I say upon approach.
“Quite a little team you’ve got there Shipley. Quite a team.”
“Yes, they are. How can I help you?”
“You’re not going to make any difference out there you know. They’re animals.”
“Really? We will see.”
“They understand force, that’s about it. And they understand me; they listen to me.”
At this, I make no response. I look into his eyes. They dart from me towards Mark’s table, and back.
“I know what you’ve done,” he says, voice lower than before, “and I won’t forget it. I’ll be watching. One mistake and…” and he trails off.
“And…?” I prompt, but he declines to continue. “Look, you did your job; David said so. What’s the problem? I’m going to do my job now.”
“No problem. None at all,” he says, with his big-toothed grin.
I can’t resist adding, “You’ve got them jumping through all kinds of hoops, don’t you? You’ve bullied them into treating you like a king or something. You think that makes you a leader? Someone to respect? Is that what you’re getting from this?”
“At least I don’t go around behind people’s backs slandering them to their superiors.”
“It’s not slander if it’s true, Brachus.”
“You don’t know what’s true and what’s not, you’re…”
“Ah, but the videos! Your own pictures and videos. I wonder if any copies of those still exist?” The grin disappears. “I wonder who would like to take a look at those back home? Tell you what, let’s both hope those don’t have to turn up again, ok?” No response, but the eyes don’t dart anymore. They are looking at me steadily. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a meeting to attend.”
Silence for a heartbeat, then the grin reappears and Master Brachus says, “Most certainly, do attend to your meeting.” And he turns and walks away from the mess hall entrance.
“I hate to bring this up again, but you said something about danger to us, or one of us,” says Porter when I rejoin the group. “What danger? And which one of us?”
“Well, James, one of us has to die,” I say solemnly. After a pause I add, “Someone has to die, James, and it’s going to be me.”
Mark stops chewing and looks at me and says, “Whoa, hey now! I’m just trying to have a quiet bite to eat here and people are dying already.” He resumes chewing.
I should have warned Carol about that last part, but I have to say she can keep her composure phenomenally well. She, too, looks at me, but only until I return her gaze. Yep, I should have brought that out more gently but talking to Brachus put me in a mood.
“I think we’ll need to hear more details, Jason,” is all she says to the now quiet gathering.
I had to go over everything again with Carol; she was not thrilled, let me tell you. Oh, she’s on board all right with us trying to do some good, but she was not at all convinced about the bomb I dropped at the mess hall.
We had a follow-up discussion where I explained more about the historical examples. We came up with a plan that, while not perfect, is workable and something we all at least agree upon. A couple details were worked out, this time as a group. To be convincing, it’s got to be one of us; to be impressive and memorable, we have to work as a team; to work as a lasting symbol, there must be mortal danger. They will understand that.
There haven’t been any more run-ins with Brachus. I did get the evil eye from Lester, but that’s it. I believe both Chris Seaborn and Rick Groth have seen the light; I will bet you that David had a talk with each of them. Groth has asked me to let him know if there is anything he can do to help.
We decided that the best venue in which to execute our plan is right in the heart of the region with the highest density of ‘our’ people. And we agree that the entire plan must be completed within the span of a single generation. There has been enough interaction over the past generations that the people know we are here; at least they suspect we are around and have an interest in them. Because our technology is millennia ahead of theirs, we can guess they think of us as magicians, sorcerers or gods. We know Brachus did not discourage the latter idea, but that’s ok, it’ll work in our favor to engender respect and attention.
If we can turn blind obedience into self-improvement and introspection, all the better. If we can replace fear of reprisal from a false god with love and respect for a teacher, we will have success.
Step Up
Dylan is invaluable to us. Without his knowledge of the people, customs, and languages, it would be tough sledding out there. Our plan becomes more firm and fleshed out every day. Although the principles we will try to instill are simple and basic to us, they may not be as easily accepted as we would hope. Our biggest challenge is to make sure the message is propagated down through the generations.
The foundations for the plan are already being laid. We do not believe dictating or otherwise writing and delivering a code of ethics will work; it’s got to be something the people can feel and experience and relate to emotionally. Besides, the vast majority of the people are illiterate.
“I’m happy with the bird’s eye view; do not trouble me with minutia,” says David, or should I say, Mr. Means, right after he hears and okays our plan. I am disappointed by the curt treatment. He nods and leaves us rather abruptly with, “Carry on.”
I wish he hadn’t cut us off, but so be it. I remember that this is how he treated Brachus too; he gave him authority and let him go without interference. He did agree to assist with a last small bit of genetics, and I am thankful for that as it will, I’m sure, make a big impression.
Dylan has agreed to assist me in my language skills, and, trust me, this will be my hardest part. We talk over the danger again: the necessity for mortal danger; the likelihood of imprisonment, at the very least; the real chance that rescue will not come in time to save me without, or even with, all the medical miracles that Gleshert can perform.
______
Dylan seems unusually quiet. We are in my cramped quarters again. It’s getting more and more Spartan around base camp as departure prep continues.
“You guys are missing the show out here,” Mark says as he sticks his head into the meeting.
“Glad you could make it after all.”
“Not my fault, I was tied up with Seaborn until David just sprung me. Greed is going to undo that boy,” Mark says shaking his head.
“Huh? Who?”
“Anyway, never mind. Have you come up with anything for me yet?”
“Mark, just keep the runabout and the solo flyer intact as long as you can, and keep them available for us. Once we start rolling, it’s going to happen fast. What show are you talking about?”
“Hah? Oh, I’ll tell you later. For the flyers: I do what I can, as always. Port
er, you still certified to fly? It’s been a while,” Mark grins. “In the meantime, I’ve got to go do one last odious errand. Later,” he says and disappears.
I have a thought and get up and look out the door, thinking to call Mark back. Across the common area, Chris Seaborn is nodding to David, who is clearly not happy. Chris sees me looking and moves enough to put his back to me while still facing David. I guess so I cannot read his lips or hear what he is saying. David, in this same moment, sees Mark and calls him over. I’ll have to catch Mark later.
“Jason.”
“Jason.”
I close the door and turn back to my group. “Yes?”
“We need to talk,” says Dylan, looking at the table in front of him. He raises his eyes and looks right at me, then Carol, and finally back at me. “Look, we’ve got something wrong. I knew it from the beginning but I had to think about it a while before I could say anything.” I see by his mood that this is something serious and sit back down in the seat I left moments before. “Jason, no offense, but you can’t pull it off. Not by memorizing your lines, not with remote prompting, no how, no way. You can’t do it.”
He looks quickly at Carol again.
“But what are you saying? We all think the plan is as good as it’s going to get…”
“No, it’s not that.” He looks down at his hands. “I’ll do it. I have to do it.”
“Dyl, what are you…”
“Jason, hold on,” says Carol. “Are you saying you want to be the teacher, Dylan?”
“I will do it. I feel they are my people. I know them; I have had friends among them over the years. I’m telling you like I told Wesley and even told David, although I don’t think either believed me, these people are more advanced than you think. They are not as far from what we would consider basic civilized society… I know, you don’t see much of that out there… but I’m telling you I’m right.
“Besides, that’s not the point. I can pass for one of them. I’ve done it; I know how to do it, easily. Jason, you just can’t say the same. No one on the mission team can.” He stops speaking and I don’t know what to say. “You know I’m right. To pull this off, it has to be one hundred percent believable. No, I take it back; it has to be absolutely real. Anything less will fail and we will waste our time.”
“Dyl… I appreciate what you say, but I have a responsibility…”
“To do it right. Yes, you do have that responsibility,” says Dylan as he interrupts and finishes my statement.
I look from Dylan to Porter to Carol. Carol does not betray her thoughts or feelings although I can imagine she would welcome this change to the plan.
“Dyl… let’s think this over. If you want to talk privately…”
“I’m doing it. Let’s get over it and on with the program. I know we haven’t completed any non-reversible actions, so let’s move forward.”
______
“I can’t deny it would be a relief to me, but, that aside, he is correct.”
“How so?” I ask Carol when we are alone later.
“Come on, you’ve never been at ease with the people, ‘our’ people. You know it and so do I. And he’s right that we have one shot and it’s got to be real; they will see through anything else.”
“But… if he doesn’t make it…”
“We all love Dylan, but it’s his decision. I don’t want to see anything happen to him any more than you do. We can do our best to protect him, but he wants to do this. You’ve seen him from the beginning: He has a special feel for these people. Sympathy, rapport—whatever you call it. Just think how much it would mean to him to have a chance to do something really significant and positive for them. He will make it, but even if he doesn’t, remember that he said he wanted to stay here…” Carol stops speaking abruptly and turns away.
We finally came up with a plan for propagating the ideas that we will be promoting. It’s a simple train-the-trainer approach. Dylan is comfortable with it but doesn’t think one generation is enough to do the job of training let alone the rest of the plan. After much debate, we all do finally and at last agree that one generation it is. We are counting on the impact of the experience to be strong enough to push the ideas forward in time.
And the issue of Dylan being the focus is settled as well. He is correct and I, and the entire team, consent to the risk that he is assuming.
The mother has been selected. David assisted us in fertilizing her using genetic material supplied by Dylan. Dylan visited with her and she was told, of course in non-technical terms, what was done and to be expecting a special child. Time is really short now and a lot has to be done. We are making sure to give advance notice to as many of ‘our’ people as possible and in a way that they will long remember.
Prep for departure is progressing apace. The archive capsule signal confirms the double L system is performing well. Recycling is having a dramatic effect on our base camp; it’s disappearing. We understand field sites have all been cleaned up and cleared out. David is spending most of his time up top; Grigor too.
I have lately been reflecting on the meaning of all this—the mission. More than the mission: the whole program of missions. Even more: the concept that we, as a people, should make it our business to interfere with planets the way we do. Maybe interfere is not the right word. Modify is better perhaps. Make no mistake, I understand if you have an undeveloped tract, it only makes sense to clear it, use the materials it provides, and make the land productive, whether it is an unused field of arable land in your back yard or a planet in another solar system. My doubts arise from the question of whose field is it anyway? First come, first served? Sure, we are paving the way via seeding but I see no record of how many of the seeded planets had preexisting life, primitive or otherwise. How many had viable life, different from ours fundamentally, perhaps incompatible with ours, but life nonetheless? Did we destroy it, and so what if we did? Tough questions all.
Moving Forward
“They’re certainly buzzing about it. The word got out all right,” reports Dylan.
“I used the solo flyer and floodlight for the big night,” adds Porter. “Just to make sure the location stood out.”
“Does everyone know what to do?” Nods all around answer me. “Mark?” I ask into the open comms unit.
“Yes, but I’m clear as to the next couple steps only. After that I’ll be needing some help. I’m old, I forget things,” Mark says via the small comms speaker.
“Yeah, sure you do. Me too. Okay then, keep an eye on your messages. All of you. We’ve got to pull together in case of the unexpected. The primary thing—well, there are two things right now. Keeping track of young Mr. Dylan,” I say with a smile, but noting Dylan’s negative facial reaction I realize too late that that appellation is too flippant, too soon, or both, “or I should say, his standin, and, second, making the several preparations in advance of Dylan’s, our Dylan’s, appearance on the scene.” Nods again, and an ‘over and out’ from Mark.
“You’ve all heard this already… The quick life cycle of the natives means that it won’t be long until the real show begins. It is a critical part of the plan that Dylan’s child be raised among the natives as any other. He must be fully accepted into and known by the locals. It turns out that we have been very fortunate that the boy does indeed bear a striking resemblance to his father—a trait that will help immensely, and one that we are counting on.
“There are a number of events that we all agree will create a lasting impression, and they require a fairly complicated setup. Doc is helping us with a few of his powerful tools and drugs and we have his commitment to assist should we need it in the case of an emergency.”
______
“Do you have any idea at all what you’re doing?” asks Gleshert when I come to him for supplies and instructions on how to use them.
“Only in theory. Something similar has been done before. We have the advantage of more advanced techniques, but one thing we do know is that the unexpected can
and probably will occur.”
“Just give me all the notice you can,” he says, with a different tone—his more human, less grouchy tone.
“Will do,” I say as I turn to leave the tiny supply room at base camp. The med facility has not been affected yet by the slow but steady teardown and preparation for departure.
“One more thing…”
I stop and look back at Doc, my arms full.
“Watch out for him; keep someone with him.”
I put down the case that contains the heavier part of the supplies he has given me and turn around to face him.
“Doc, I know how you feel, and we all feel the same. You probably know what I’m going to say… He has to carry through the final act on his own. I personally will monitor him—he won’t have any of his regular gear, weapon, or communicator with him—and will let you know if he needs you.”
______
“Tell Tracy she can help,” I say to Carol when I get back to my place, which has morphed into the headquarters for this operation. “She’s been out with the natives, yes? Mingling and whatnot? Knows the local language in the area?”
Carol nods, “I think so.”
“If she can do it, I want her to go to the village where Dyl … the standin I mean, lives and talk up the ideas that we agreed upon. And specifically to the women; I think we are doing all we can with the men. And then if she could fan out and visit neighboring communities … just keep the rumors going, play up the birth, you know, and the rest.”
“Alright.” And Carol adds, “Do you want me to go too?”
“No. Listen; tell her also to be careful. Be discreet, take precautionary measures, no chances—you girls know what I mean. You, stay here. I want you to keep tabs on the team, their locations. What’s the latest?”
“The latest is that our boy is the spitting image of his dad; and Dad says he’s ready to go anytime. I am here to tell you Dylan is very impressive. He is going to make a real impression down there; heck, he’s made a real impression on me. He’s got a strong presence—you’ve seen it. He’s quiet, confident, and most of all firm. I don’t see him getting flustered at all.”