He Without Sin

by Hyde, Ed

  “I do know what you mean. And that’s where I would fall down, I’m sure. He’s got, like you said, presence.” I stop to think and then add, “Let’s see how Tracy feels and if it’s a go, give her some time to do her thing. Then we make the swap.”

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Carol answers as she thoughtfully looks at Dylan when he enters. She’s hit the nail on the head; he’s got a new presence. New? Or am I just noticing it now? Dylan greets me as well and sits. I begin to say something more but get waved into silence.

  “I will cause conflict out there. I don’t mean wars. But I will say my piece in public, first to attract crowds, with your help,” looking at me and Carol and gesturing so that we know he means the team inclusive, “and then to confront their native leaders, those who have a stake in the status quo.

  “I will try to do it so that the object of their wrath is me, and me alone, as we planned,” he explains. “But there’s also got to be that carrot, a reward. If the messages that I leave are to spread, there has got to be the promise of a reward. And that promise has to outweigh the pressure from the rest of society.”

  “Yes, that’s…”

  “Wait. Yes, I know what you are going to say. That’s the plan. You’ve got to help me find those among the people who are willing to carry on after I’m gone, after we’ve gone from this planet. They are going to have to be able to articulate the message and be able and willing to spread it. I’ve got a couple ideas; there are a few fellows who are about the right age, whose families I know from the field. But let’s work now to line up others; we don’t have much time.”

  I talked to Porter; he had no contact with the people as part of his job shuttling ores and other resources back and forth for David, Brachus, and Mark. And he has no desire now to get up close and personal, especially in a crowded village. Nevertheless, he’s agreed to pitch in when and where he can.

  Mark’s advice is short and sweet: ‘Use the contacts that Dylan has identified, and then use their like-minded friends to build a small network to help carry on. Done. No sweat, no strain.’ And that’s what we’ll do. They are identified, but Dylan will have to contact them himself and confer upon them their charge.

  More and more non-essential items are being recycled, or returned to the ship. We are to give a list to Mark and his helpers of what he can reprocess, discard, or pack to keep. Mark sent his own message right after saying that there is a strict weight limit; if we go over, he will choose what to eliminate, so be careful, he says. Don’t be the last in line, he says.

  The swap needs to be made; should have been done by now. The concept was to physically remove the standin from the area. He’d have been fine; set up in a good location, with strangers— friendly strangers who know Dylan from his field work—who would take care of him until he becomes part of their society. He is young and strong, with skills. He would have had a long and happy life. But Dylan blocked it.

  Showtime

  “Jason, I’m addressing you and you alone. It’s not right and I can’t allow it. I will not allow it. That’s why I stopped the transfer.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. You surely aren’t going to ask me why?” Dylan says, looking steadily and only at me, not at the rest of the team. “Are you?”

  “No, of course not,” Carol answers for me, for all of us.

  I sit down. Only Dylan remains standing and continues saying, “The plan goes forward. I have talked to the boy. He now knows about me and wants to help. There are some small things he can do; he will be a ‘cousin’ and help by working in outlying areas to spread the word. No one will be the wiser.”

  “Can we be sure this is a better solution?”

  “Better? It’s the right solution. And the only one. He deserves to have a voice in all this and to be among his people. Now, where were we?”

  ______

  “Isn’t this a bit deceptive? I mean, the costumes, the makeup. Look at me!”

  “Rick, we need you. I don’t suppose you could talk to Chris…?” Rick doesn’t speak, but I can see that the answer is no. No mind, we are what we are and will make do.

  “But, what I was saying…”

  “Yes, I know. But it’s a sure way of getting their attention. Like I told you all, we need to get maximum exposure and this is one sure way to do it. The girls are pitching in along with Craig, Alain—even Porter is out there right now,” I explain.

  “I don’t know. I don’t like it. I mean, it could get dicey. You see?”

  “No, we are going out among the masses—the poor people. These are the ones who are looking at basic survival from day to day. They are not your enemy. You’ll blend. Besides, we are using a team concept; you’ll be working with at least one other, always.”

  I can see two things: He’s not totally convinced that he will be safe and, second, that he’s resigning himself to do it anyway.

  “Thanks. We do appreciate it. The whole program will be over in two of their years. We are about half way through right now. Talk to the team, they will tell you how it is.”

  “Who’s the new guy? Hubba hubba!” says Tracy, just coming into the remote temporary camp some are calling ‘the green room.’ Hey, Rick, you should show off those muscles more often.”

  “What’s the news?” I ask.

  “It’s a madhouse…”

  “See? What was I saying? Hey?” interjects Rick.

  “The crowds are buzzin’. And they’re getting bigger by the day. Are you his speech writer?”

  I shake my head. “No, not me.”

  “Whoever, then. He can really wrap them around his little finger, man. I’m tellin’ ya!”

  “Who’s up?”

  “You. Carol’s next. She’s in position and Dylan’s supposed to see her tomorrow. Should be a good show, but… Yes?

  What?”

  “No, nothing. Sorry. Go ahead, what else?”

  “I was just sayin’, Jimmy or one of ‘em has found a family that are all sick with something. Pretty bad fever or what. Should be a snap to fix with one of Doc’s potions. Easy for us—probable death sentence for them without it. But it should wow them some more for sure. It might be that Carol will have to wait a day or week for her show.”

  Tracy is looking Rick over again and says, “There is a problem.”

  “Rick, you’re done in here. Tracy will take you out and brief you, get you oriented.” Turning to Tracy I ask, “Problem?”

  “Yeah. He’s in demand. High demand. The people are seeing things they’ve never seen, cures that are unheard of. They obviously think it’s him—can’t imagine technology or real medicine. They all want a piece of him.”

  “No, that’s good. As long as he’s safe for a while longer, we want the buzz as big as we can get it. Sounds like it’s going according to plan to me.”

  “If you say so… Say dude, you’re up!”

  She’s right. I have to go out and do my part again as well. We have planned several incidents for various locations and each one takes more or less setup. Craig and the others been out for almost a year now for just that reason. They’ve got to be believable as ‘one of them’ so that when Dylan comes along, the plan goes off without a hitch. Total believability; it’s top priority.

  ______

  “Where does he get this stuff?”

  I’m tired and trying to rest from a long stint among the people and crowds. I don’t open my eyes. “Stuff?”

  “You know, the speeches or stories he’s telling.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard him too. What about it, Jason?”

  I open my eyes, but do not turn to make eye contact with anyone. “Come on, you’ve heard it all before; standard ideas, right? There’s nothing surprising in what he’s saying to them.”

  “Ok, but the way he’s doing it—I mean, sure, it’s seems like the basics all over again. Things we know by heart, or should know anyway.”

  “That’s it, it’s the basics we learned…”

  �
�But, the stories…”

  “Look,” I say with some irritation due to the rest time I am losing, “I told you guys—there is history from other missions. But the delivery—that’s all Dylan. I’ve heard him too. He’s awesome.” What I think, but don’t say, is that there is no way I could have managed as well. Not a chance. He’s a natural. “What’s that?” I ask.

  “We were just saying about the stories—they are… interesting.”

  I close my eyes again, knowing that I’ve only got a short time before heading back out. “Has to be. Literacy near zero. Lots of oral tradition though. Got to have stories with a message that can be passed along.”

  “It’s all common sense though, really, from what I’ve heard.”

  “Common sense to you and me maybe. Look, there are some things people know are right, right?. Maybe they can’t say it, but they know it. We all know some things without being told. But many times it takes a person to articulate it, to say it out loud, for it to crystalize into a concrete precept that a people can rally around or at least agree upon. And if it’s said by a person of authority, a persuasive speaker…”

  There is some additional low talking, but I do not pay attention.

  I open my eyes again and slowly realize that I did get some rest after all. I am alone. I check my appearance and my task details and head out. As usual, I can feel my tension rise as I get closer to populated areas. Lately though, it’s getting easier.

  I say as little as possible even though I do have a certain level of comfort now with the people. I am a familiar sight in and around the small community on my current assignment. I’ve made sure of that. There have got to be questions about my situation but so far there have not been any incidents. I can laugh off or otherwise deflect questions about my past, family, livelihood, and so on without difficulty. It’s important though that I’m visible and visibly hurting. One of Dylan’s supporters has been kind enough to put me up when I do stay in the community overnight. It’s crunch time now and tomorrow’s my day.

  ______

  I hope it’s enough. There is a following for sure, but is it enough? My interaction with Dylan went off without a hitch and the locals are suitably impressed by any measure. For my part, I am still playing the role of the thankful recipient of Dylan’s attention and have joined the growing group that makes up his following. My part is over for now and I am glad to be able soon to slip away and head back to the green room.

  Rapid fire events now consume most of the team’s time. One after the other we are all contributing to good effect. There’s a ways to go but a large part of the plan has been carried out successfully.

  The stories from the team are incredible. Each situation has its unique quirks and surprises. Nothing goes just as expected but I guess that’s to be expected!

  Carol drew some stares when she said her piece. I didn’t notice anything; it must be that she speaks the local language with a peculiar accent or something. It didn’t matter; Dylan’s response to her was simple, instructive, and well received.

  Danger

  “It’s working. They are amazed.”

  “We suspected as much. When technology and medicine are in their infancy, essentially unknown, they just can’t fathom that one of their own could do what he has done.”

  “What he is still doing!”

  “You should hear him speak! I was in the crowd at several of the venues. They can’t get enough.”

  “I will say the magistrates or whatever they are called are not happy. They are calling him a liar and pretender to the throne and other things. He’s getting the attention we expected, from all sides.”

  “Porter, I am surprised to see you enjoy mingling in the crowds.”

  “Not ‘enjoy.’ Wrong-o. I don’t talk, I keep my head down. Besides, I am a blind man out there without my glasses. Most of their gibberish I don’t pick up. Have to report on the sly. Tracy, you need help out there? I’d rather be with him than in the city.”

  “Ha, you’re doing great. Keep it up. We need you there bud.”

  “Porter, you won’t have to go to him. We are directing him to you.”

  “Oh, yeah…” Porter says as he apparently remembers.

  “James, you are the one that has to turn him in.”

  Porter’s expression changes subtly. He swallows before nodding and looking around our small group. “Mark, I’ll take one of those cocktails of yours now.”

  This was another hard part of the plan to agree upon. In order to build up the recognition, the notoriety, in order to get the message out and have the largest impact, we need to have the biggest possible confrontation. There are no mass media, there is no electronic communication; hardly—even printing is a long way off for these people.

  ______

  “I met with him outside the city,” Carol says. “He’s a changed man from mission kickoff. It’s something to see. He acts as if he were made for this role.”

  “When does he… Hey, Mark, come on in. You don’t look happy.”

  Mark sits without speaking. He has aged again, going by his appearance. His laugh lines are prominent, but he is not laughing now. After making sure his thin reddish hair is in place with a sweeping motion of his hand, he says, “I’m getting badgered. Again.” He looks at me and I believe I know what he means. “I’ve just about had it. I’m officially done with field resource work. All field work.” He gives himself a shake as if warding off a chill, and says, “Forget about it. Back to where you were when I barged in.”

  “Right. Are you sure you don’t need help with anything? We could give you a hand…”

  “Nope. We’re wasting valuable happy hour time people, let’s go.”

  “Where were we?” I ask Carol.

  “When he goes in…”, she reminds me.

  “Yes, when is he going in?”

  “In?” Mark asks, a confused look on his face.

  “Dylan. Into the city.”

  “Right.”

  “Craig will let us know the actual time. The day is set; it matches the current plan. It’s tomorrow, Jason. There promises to be a lot of people in the city and more coming along with him.”

  “So, this is it.”

  ______

  Carol and I prepare ourselves and enter the city. Now, other than Mark, my whole team is there and able to mix in with Dylan and his followers. It’s a relief to me that I have learned the language enough to be comfortable.Creature comforts are another matter and after a day or two I can only wonder how civilization of any kind can survive infection and disease in these primitive conditions without antibiotics and other modern remedies. Not to mention personal hygiene.

  “I’m going to do it now,” Porter says to us in the native tongue. With his outfit and makeup, it’s hard for me to tell if he’s nervous or not. He moves off and I lose him in the crowd. There is a bit of commotion moments later. The crowd erupts with shouts and accusations, threats and pleading; the tone smacks first of authority, then defiance and, finally, bitter acceptance. Dylan, I see, in the midst of it all, remains calm, almost radiant.

  I hear it first, and then I see part of the crowd turn angry once more. I feel a sharp twinge of panic when I realize that it is poor Porter they have turned against. Damn it— we should have foreseen this! Dylan’s loyal followers would of course not view Porter’s action favorably. I search faces frantically to see if there are any others of my team around while pushing my way forward towards the knot of people harassing Porter. Nobody! It’s clear that it’s only a matter of seconds before he will be in real trouble.

  I grab for Porter and reach something, not sure if I have him or not. It is him! Pulling him back and then behind me, I give him one final shove away from the mob and release my grip. At the same time I continue to press forward while indicating as urgently as I can a false direction to fool the angry crowd. This ploy is working. I hear shouts of ‘There he goes!’ echo and support my deception.

  I turn and glance behind me in time to see Po
rter hustle away as discreetly and quickly as he can. That was close!

  A hand clamps my shoulder and I look back now to see an unfamiliar face—an unfamiliar face with a familiar grin. It takes only a moment to process the grin and realize it belongs to Craig. He nods, removes his hand and turns to move away without saying anything at all. I am at last able to exhale and relax, knowing now why the misdirection worked so easily.

  ______

  We have done all we can do here for the moment. Carol and I head out of town and decide to stay at least one more night in one of the places that Dylan used in his recent travels. We meet a teammate on the way.

  “I thought I might see one of you out here.” Porter, shaken but intact, looks tired. “Have a seat,” he says.

  “You did good. Glad you’re all right.”

  “I’m ok. I still don’t know how I got out of there.”

  “Say ‘thanks’ to Craig the next time you see him. You’re out. Come with us if you’d like. We’re going to stay.”

  “No. No thanks.” Porter looks with a blank expression from me to Carol and back. I wonder how clearly he can see us at this distance. “Nope. Really, I’m fine. Say…”

  “Yes?”

  “They’re really stirred up. I mean, that could have gotten real ugly real fast. Do you think he… I mean, what will they do…?”

  “He’ll be fine. It’s all according to plan; it just feels different when you’re in the middle of it as it happens.”

  Porter doesn’t say more and we leave him sitting with his forearms on his knees. He’s removed some of his garb so he’ll not be recognized even if someone spots him. He’s done the last part of his job and can return to base camp.

  That leaves Craig and Tracy in town to monitor and report developments. We will give it some time before we head back to base.

  ______