by George Lazăr
Or he wouldn’t have.
After all, perhaps the Earth and its inhabitants were the ones sentenced and not him. Perhaps that force was trying to do just that – clean the planet of human beings by using him in a mysterious way. Perhaps, even from the very beginning, they had been the ones sentenced to death, and he was the one meant to survive them.
Next time?
There wouldn’t be a next time, at least not for the people on Earth if he decided to start the engines of the waste storage and direct it towards them. But if Folder was right, the destructive potential he would accumulate if he survived once more would be enormous. The solar system or the entire galaxy would follow next, or the whole Universe. He could bring about another Big Bang – the simultaneous moment of Destruction and Creation. For a moment, the potential cosmic dimension of the value of his own life made him feel dizzy. He looked out of a porthole and thought the stars had multiplied and started gathering around his space residence. They were flooding the skies. Perhaps they were emissaries of some distant civilization who had come to witness his decision. Or perhaps he simply imagined it.
…is it you or us? Please, take pity on us all…”
He had an idea. He yelled at the screen from where the fortuneteller’s voice was coming:
“Ask Folder if he has a gun. I know he is next to you. Come on.”
The images on the screen disappeared and were replaced by Jeniko’s puzzled face. He threw a short glance to his right, as if he was waiting for instructions.
“Ask him for the gun. Show it to me.”
From somewhere outside the camera’s field of view Jeniko received a gun he then presented to him. It looked like a heavy weapon he was holding rather awkwardly, not being accustomed to it.
“Put it to your temple. Shoot yourself. If you do it, perhaps I will think about it. You can save the planet. You can do it through your example. But, before that, shoot Folder. These are my conditions. What do you say?”
The hand holding the gun aimed slowly towards a point that was outside the image on the screen, but without pulling the trigger. Jeniko hesitated; then he pointed the gun to his head. His hand became steadier. He closed his eyes and his face hardened. His finger drew closer to the trigger, but at that moment someone’s hand appeared from behind the camera and grabbed the gun. The image disappeared and was replaced by other stills of the various catastrophes Bolden had determined.
Ian Bolden smiled sadly. Neither the fortuneteller nor Folder had had the courage to give their lives in order to save the others.
Or they didn’t take him seriously. He should have seen that coming. The way in which he tried to make them understand what he was going through sounded like some gruesome joke. They had nothing to do with saving the planet and mankind, but they didn’t want to satisfy the whim of the person on whose shoulders their salvation rested. Or perhaps they simply wanted to live, just like any other human being.
No, neither Jeniko nor Folder had the right to ask him to die for mankind to survive. No one had that right. Nothing justified death, absolutely nothing. No one had to sacrifice himself for the genius that brought progress to mankind or for the charismatic leader who would have brought long-lasting peace and prosperity. The victim sacrificed wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the progress, the peace and the prosperity. He would have only had death – the opposite of life.
He would have been left with the sacrifice and that was it – a sacrifice he would have had to assume freely and knowingly, without someone asking it of him like an ultimatum. But he should have been honestly entitled to both options: yes or no.
The answer lay within him, as it was found in every human being, even if people were astoundingly different. Some of them would have accepted the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good and others wouldn’t. No one could know how many would have agreed and how many wouldn’t have because people react very differently in the face of death. Cowards become heroes and heroes become cowards.
Suicide or the survival of mankind was in his hands. His own life or the Apocalypse – that was only in God’s power.
Had he become His instrument?
“You, what would you do?” he cried out at the screen from where Jeniko’s voice was still coming. “What would you do if you had a choice?” he whispered.
He didn’t wait for an answer and he didn’t imagine he would get one. His face relaxed and he knew he had taken the right decision. Reconciled with himself, he allowed an inner peace he had never felt before to engulf him. He no longer heard the pleading voice of the old gypsy and he no longer saw the screen, with its terrifying images.
For the first time in his life, Ian Bolden knew exactly what to do, as if he had experienced a holy revelation.
His finger moved decisively towards the button.