He Without Sin

by Hyde, Ed

  Getting Up to Speed

  I will never get used to that. I will say I was expecting the weird sensations and this time, while they are indescribable, I can at least now assume they are normal for this mode of travel. Be careful, set timer, relax.

  I remember talking to my dad when I was very young. It was a quiet time and we were alone. We weren’t doing anything but sitting; he may have been reading, I’m not sure. But I was sitting beside him looking at his face the way young kids do. In an adult, this sort of staring or close inspection would be considered rude behavior, but as a child it was just ‘looking’ with no other motive than to see.

  “Dad, you have a black spot. There. On your cheek.”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  He looked at me and thought for a minute.

  “I got it long ago, when I was just a little older than you,”

  he said. “I used to work on a train, you know, like the ones downtown? But this was an old, old train and it needed fire to run.”

  “Fire?”

  “Yep. Fire to make it go. I used to shovel coal into the fire to make it burn hot.”

  “Coal?”

  “Coal is a black rock that burns. I will show you sometime.” He takes a moment to touch the black spot with his finger and says, “Anyway, one day, as I was shoveling coal into the firebox of the engine, a little red spark from the fire flew out and blew back and hit me right in the face. Right here. And since then, there’s been a little black spot.”

  As kids do, I accepted this explanation without question. Near as I can recall that was the end of our talk, although I did think about what he said for quite some time. I still think about it. Since then the image I have of the spark as it flies off of the blazing fire, glowing and swirling through the air, inevitably making its erratic way to my dad’s cheek, has remained vivid.

  As I matured, historical fact began to clash with the story. Coal-fired engines were a thing of the past—the distant past. How can this be? In the way that happens with children and parents, I both believed the story and doubted it at the same time, trying my best to reconcile the discrepancy.

  As an adult, I have convinced myself that Dad was telling a story, an interesting and harmless entertainment for his son, perhaps invented off the cuff. I also choose to carry the image of a brave and strong engineer faithfully stoking a fire in the face of certain danger. And I always will.

  It won’t be long now before we are back. I find myself thinking of family more and more. Carol and I will have our separate personal things to take care of and then sometime later will get together to discuss the future. I wonder if she’s game for another mission, or if this is it. I could go either way.

  ______

  “Remember, we’ve been gone a long time. Things have changed. It’s going to be a shock,” David announces at one of our wrap-up meetings. “Many if not most of your family members have opted into the LP but let me tell you that life goes on. I know from personal experience that nothing is perfect.”

  “LP? You mean LMP, longevity medical, yes?”

  David nods. “It means long life but it doesn’t mean infinite life. You will see clear signs of aging in those you left behind, assuming…” David looks around, seemingly to make sure everyone is paying attention, then continues, “… assuming the best case scenario.”

  Resuming, he adds, “I am required to tell you that you…me, all of us, will be attending mandatory debriefing. It’s then that you will be brought up to speed on the news of the world such as changes in government, laws, and the like. As stable as we have been over time, as a society, you simply have to believe me that there will be surprises.

  Changes at the Academy—I presume you know that the staff there, unless they have a family member on a long term mission, are not part of program—are to be expected. And we may safely assume that there have been one or more disasters, natural or otherwise.”

  David checks his genie and during this pause there arises a murmur amongst the crew, I guess about the expected changes David mentioned.

  “David, what about Dylan?”

  Dr. Gleshert doesn’t wait to be acknowledged, and answers right away, “I am keeping him under and he will transfer to a proper medical facility as soon as possible. There is no other news. He’s stable but I cannot make any other statement at this time.”

  “Back to homecoming.” Quiet prevails again. “There is a second debriefing. This one will be private with your families or descendants, depending on your individual case. It’s during this portion you will learn their fate, good or bad. I am required, also, to tell you that things happen. Sometimes people choose to opt out of longevity before you return, for whatever reason—this happens more than you might think. Sometimes accidents happen to the healthiest people, due to bad luck. Look at what happened to Wesley. What I’m saying is, be prepared, as best you can, for this second debriefing. There is bound to be an emotional shock, hopefully pleasant, but possibly not. Jason, are we set?” David says, and looks for me at the table. I nod.

  “Ok. We are now close enough to home and in communication range, so why aren’t we all overloaded with incoming calls and messages from home? It’s blocked. All communication for now is routed through the ship’s equipment and any incoming not critical to mission completion is blocked. And will be until debriefing. The reason is obvious, I think. The stack of incoming would literally overload each of our devices. Even if the device could handle it, we would each be overwhelmed catching up with messages from the years we have been gone. And by the way, you will be given suggestions on how to deal with this problem once we are back on the ground. On a personal note I can tell you this from experience: Do not start looking at the oldest messages first. If you think about it for a moment, you will understand why.”

  ______

  One nice thing about having access to communications passwords is that I can get my messages if I want to. He is right, there must be literally millions. I’m not going to attempt to go through them all, but for the text and other typed messages I am using filters to sort, and then keywords to bulk delete the ones that I know I don’t want.

  I have been long curious about my brother Tom and, strangely, filtering produces only a very few about him, and they are old. Real old. One is from that Jeff Sanders guy, copying Tom, and blasting Brachus for misleading him about trying to help with his career. He said that not only did he, Jeff, not hear from the people Brachus said he would set him up with, when Jeff talked to the people themselves, they said Brachus never contacted them at all.

  Worse, he said that when he checked the receipts on the several messages he sent to Wes—this was back before we got out of communication range—they all showed they were read within an instant of each other. He knows, he says, at least from the Ming message-handling protocol, that this is a pretty good sign that they were never read: They were instead most likely group-deleted to the trash. At least, that’s how their system worked at Ming: It would send a receipt at opening or at deletion.

  The most recent message from Tom is ominous. It is short and says, ‘J Am erasing last line. No limit now! Goodbye T’ and nothing else. I don’t see any other messages from him. I decline to search anymore and will wait for debriefing.

  It’s hard to believe after all this time and all that’s happened, but I am back on home planet ground as I write this! Debrief is over—the first half of the first part at least. There is no way to absorb all this. The world I knew is now chronicled in history archives and while there is, as David said, a great deal of continuity, the names have all changed, even some of the language.

  For the next part we have been given time to meet and talk together as a group while having access to media. This is and has been an enjoyable session; a time where we can all share the surprises and changes. One more day and we break up the mission crew and meet privately for the second part—the family reunions.

  David said his goodbyes first. He
was professional about it. I have to wonder if he will consider this mission his last. I don’t think his experimentation results were what he was hoping for, but on the other hand it would be a big commitment for him to take on another mission.

  Mark and Grigor are going to get together before the families come. They have asked me to join them. They say that others from the crew will be there but I decline. I need to talk to Carol about what she is going to do in the near future, once we are cleared to leave. Other than that I am in the mood to be alone.

  So far we’ve had no update on Dylan. And I’ve heard no fallout from his ‘accident’ or Brachus’ sad end.

  Home Again

  Parents, if any, come in first.

  I thought I was prepared for the unavoidable effects of aging, but even so I have to work to avoid displaying my shock at her appearance as she comes in. The lines on her face have multiplied and deepened. Her hair is all gray, almost white. It’s my mother all right—if I look at the eyes, there is no doubt—but numerous changes have ganged up as if to try to hide the rest of her from immediate recognition.

  “Mom. How are you? Where’s Dad?”

  “Oh Jay, it’s been so long! Look at you!” She looks first, holding me at arm’s length, then hugs. When did my mother get so short? Her voice is soft and small, not how I remember it at all! I notice too that her hug is weak, not like the smothering hugs from before. “They warned me you would be different. But how different! You have turned out well, Jay, and so handsome!”

  We must’ve both heard the same warning speech. How you never notice changes in people when you see them often although they are changing little by little all the time. But after a long separation, the cumulative effect of the small changes can be startling. The eyes, the smell, these have remained the same.

  “How are you?” she asks, holding me again at arm’s length and giving a little shake.

  “I’m great. I’m good. It’s good to be home. Mom, how’s Dad? Where is he?”

  “Jay…” she starts. But I can see without hearing any more that he’s not coming. “Jason. Your father is no longer with us.”

  “Mom, why? What happened?”

  “It’s too much to tell right now. We will wait and talk about it,” she says with determination. I see her eyes glisten, but no tears. “It was a long time ago. He did not want to continue the treatments.”

  “Didn’t want…”

  “He saw all his friends pass, oh, and not to mention Tom…” She put her hand to her mouth and stopped in mid-sentence as if she had not meant to say anything about Tom.

  “Mom! Not Tom too?” I say, not really asking for a response. She hangs her head, but manages to nod.

  “I… I just got a strange message from him,” I say. Mom looks up, not understanding. “I mean I just picked up an old message that he left a long time ago. I didn’t understand it. He said ‘goodbye’ in it.”

  “A… a voice message?” she asks, with some difficulty.

  “No, no, not voice.”

  “Oh, Jay, I would have liked to hear his voice again.” She wipes her eyes. “But I am forgetting. There is someone else here for you to see.” She totters, rather unsteadily to my eyes, with short little steps to the door and signals for someone to enter.

  I don’t get it at first. This big strapping young man looks familiar, but…

  “Come on, don’t tell me…” this man says, in a voice and tone I do recognize from somewhere.

  “Jared? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding! But how? How…how are you… I mean how did…”

  “How how how… Ha! I am fine, how are you!” He says, laughing at my confusion.

  As we shake hands and hug I start again, “How…”

  “I can fill you in when we get home. You are staying with us, yes?” He gives me a questioning look but does not wait for my response. “I wish I could say there were more people here to greet you, but instead you are stuck with us.” I gather the few personal items that I have and begin to walk to the door with them. “You do remember I tried to join the Academy when you did?”

  “Yes, but you were too young or…?”

  “Ah, but I made it the next try. Man, I’ve got more missions under my belt than you! One was short and local, but the long one—Jay, look at me! They put me on the LMP!”

  I put my belongings into one small bag for the trip home. We meet with Academy personnel for a final exit interview, get my official release, and head out into the world I left so long ago.

  We don’t talk at first as we make our way. It is disorienting to see what used to be a familiar metropolis, now studded with so much that I don’t recognize. I see the occasional building I know and point, “Look!”

  “Yes, but look over there. Look how tall. That one is new to me, too. Say, didn’t that used to be where the park was?” asks Jared to no one in particular.

  “No, not the park. I think that’s still there in between somewhere. I can’t see it now, but not the park. Not there…” suggests Mom.

  “It was close to here all right. But come on. Hurry,” and Jared picks up his pace like a schoolboy showing off a new toy, “and look here Jay. Remember this spot?”

  I do remember. It seems incredible, but I do. Sometimes Jared and Tom and I would take the train and ride. Ride just for fun, going nowhere in particular. It was cheap enough public transit and we could entertain ourselves riding, looking and laughing at the people and sights. Sometimes we would come to the central terminus, near to where we are right now, and walk through the big city, looking for things to do or see.

  It was in this very spot, this street between buildings where we spent many hours playing. At some point the street was closed off so that it became a dead end. No traffic at all. It was a silly game we invented here—‘curb ball’—that was it. The street seems to have shrunk during the intervening years to alley status but it is the same place all right. It’s a normal street with sidewalks and curbs but largely unused because it is so short and leads nowhere. If you loft a ball up high from one side towards the other, just so, it could hit the opposite curb when it comes down. Not just hit the curb but, if you did it just right, maybe one out of 20 tries, the ball would hit the curb at just the right spot and shoot straight back at you right along the pavement. It would bounce away from the curb staying on the ground with no vertical component at all. Not easy. I guess the frequency of good hits was just right to keep us trying to do it again. Ridiculous waste of time. But we had fun being together.

  “Do you remember Tom going on about the rules? ‘Limits define everything. Everything.’ Remember that?”

  I can hardly believe this dirty, dark street is still here. I look to see that Jared is watching my reaction. “This is it all right,” he says, apparently reading my mind. “See, here are our initials over here,” pointing at the blackened, scuffed wall.

  “What? No. Impossible,” I respond as I move to look where he is pointing. There is nothing there but dirt and the accumulation of graffiti on top of flaking paint on top of more layers of the same. I look back at Jared; he is smiling and shaking his head.

  “It was right there, I swear cuz!”

  Mom seems quiet and withdrawn to me, another sign of aging no doubt. She never liked Jared that much when we were young but now she seems to be amused by his wise-cracking manner.

  ______

  “Mom, have you been living here all alone?” I ask. Our old house is long gone but I recognize some of the knickknacks and pictures. My old footlocker, of all things, still exists. It’s filled with my stuff from before I left on the mission, undisturbed—a time capsule.

  “No. Jared’s been in and out since…” she answers. I learn that Uncle Joe has passed, and Nancy too. “I get together with the girls each week.” The ‘girls’ are mission wives and mothers who have opted into the program, same as her. “I really do miss the garden. Remember the garden? The only times I got really mad at you kids were when you would get into the garden. My one little spac
e, and you seemed attracted to it like magnets!”

  For now my official address is with Mom and Jared. Jared is waiting for another assignment. He figures one more short mission and he will join private industry in some capacity. What capacity? He doesn’t know yet. That’s keeping his options open, he says. Oh well, who really knows anyway? I thought the Genetic Expansion program would be best for me. And I thought it would help define my career path too. But now I don’t know. It may be post-mission lethargy, but I don’t see any clear path for me. For now, I am content to spend time here, catch up on what’s happened, if that’s even possible, and get together with Carol when we can.

  The inquest summons was waiting for me when we first arrived home. Now, that’s some quick action on the part of the mission board. It only shows my name; I wonder if we all got one. Carol and I decided to hold off contacting each other for now, figuring that it’s best to try to re-accommodate to family and all the changes without complicating life further.

  I told Mom and Jared about the planet we visited and the unlimited space there. Wild and untamed, and room for gardens galore. I do have pictures and videos but put off showing them. I don’t know why; it seems too soon.

  They asked about the mission and I recounted some of the happenings, but not all. They asked about the accident. I gave the briefest summary I could. Jared related some of the excitement he experienced on his adventures too.

  In my footlocker I find something new—a plain envelope with my name hand-written on it. Inside is the following note:

  Jason,

  Don’t be sorry or sad for me. I have had a wonderful and fulfilling life. It overflowed with marvels, more than anyone could reasonably ask for or expect. I certainly didn’t deserve to have a wife as supportive as your mother; nor could one find better sons than you and Tom. Don’t be angry with me for my decision, but it will soon be time for me to go. I have chosen to forego any more treatments and will be happy and satisfied to end this final chapter naturally.