His voice flew away above her head. “Fi, I agree with the Truthers that God’s Eden is greater than anything that Man’s created, but I think they’re wrong to assume that our part in it is just to survive. I can’t believe that we’re supposed to give up all the progress we’ve made, all of the good that we’ve done, just because we’re also capable of doing bad.”
She felt him shake his head.
“Sure, some crazy nuts think that they can find immortality,” he said. “And it makes my blood boil to think that they had a part in causing the Famine. But someone also discovered the cure for smallpox because they did research. Maybe that was their way of seeking immortality. Who knows? Who’s to say we wouldn’t all have died of that, if we hadn’t cured it?”
Startled, Fi considered that. He had a point. Lots of what was accomplished as a result of human curiosity was awesome, and some of it was awful. Did we have to give up one entirely, just to avoid the other?
“Like, we could have died of nuclear bombs if we’d let that happen? Is that what you mean?” she said.
“Exactly. Human beings have always had the capacity to hurt themselves, but we’re one of the only creatures on Earth with the capacity to help ourselves too. When I came here, I realized that I couldn’t live my life in fear, that I couldn’t limit myself, or you, or our future. It was the moment that I knew that I was a hundred percent committed to reconnection.”
It was one of the longest speeches that Asher had ever given, and its impact on her was suitably significant. As she stood surrounded by beauty, reveling in being alive, she could finally understand.
“If it were hopeless,” she murmured, “then we should all just sit down and die, right?” He nodded and stroked her head in its fuzzy hat. Fi turned back to look over her shoulder at the breathtaking horizon. “Ok, let’s go back to solid ground.”
Asher helped her back onto the cliff. She took two steps and collapsed in the snow, her legs suddenly failing as the fear she’d suppressed truly hit her. Asher hit the ground beside her and snow blew up in a puff. She waved the snow shower away, laughing. For a few moments they sat together in silence. Fi studied the magnificent landscape, marveling at its scale and beauty.
“God’s country,” she murmured.
“What’s that, Fi?”
“Nothing. It’s just…you know, it’s not like I don’t believe in God.”
She stopped, unsure if she was discussing her feelings for his benefit, or hers. Maybe it didn’t matter. It was in there, waiting, needing to be worked out.
“I never really went to church,” she continued. “At least, not after my father’s parents retired and moved back to Ireland. But I did read the Bible some. I dunno. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” She turned to Asher and pushed her sunglasses over her knit cap and squinted. “What do you think?”
He pulled his sunglasses onto his head as well, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know either, Fi. My family didn’t really practice much. I read a lot of the Bible, but I read other things too.” He paused. “Some of my family practiced Buddhism.”
Fi snorted and then immediately regretted it when she saw that he was serious. Jeez, he’s finally telling you something about his family, idiot! He almost never did that. She bit her tongue, determined to listen.
He continued. “I guess I kind of think of God as being whatever or whoever set the universe in motion, but I don’t think that He or She actually controls things in our everyday lives. Like, I really don’t believe that God sent the Famine to punish us like Lawson says. I’m sorry, but I just don’t.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I don’t either. I think he’s right that we screwed up somehow, and we caused it. But I don’t think that God caused it. For me, I always come back to my belief in God because of science…which I realize is ironic.” Lawson would be horrified, she thought with a smile. “There’s an old book. The title was Middlemarch. I read it when we were on the run.”
Asher nodded. He knew she’d read books over and over when the Family had been trapped in the wilderness. It was a good escape, even once she had them memorized.
“It’s an old British story like Jane Eyre, or Pride and Prejudice,” she explained. “It features a character who’s a clergyman, but who’s also a naturalist. He collects beetles and stuff. Anyway,” she shoved a stray curl behind her ear, “when he introduces himself to a stranger and explains his hobby, the guy says something like ‘Ah – the scientist and the clergymen…two individuals who arrive at the same conclusion from exactly opposite directions.’”
A playful smile twitched at Asher’s lips. “That’s you.”
“I know. The more I learn, the more it seems like magic to me. I just keep thinking…‘really?’ All of these billions of living things are created from the same four genetic nucleotides, and that’s not magic? Am I really supposed to believe that this incredibly ordered, balanced, universe developed at random?” She shook her head. “I just can’t. And yet, I don’t know what or whom God is specifically, I just feel like there’s something more...”
“I hear you, Fi. I think being exposed to Buddhism made me feel differently about God having to be a person. Like, I don’t really picture a guy with a beard.”
Fi burst out laughing. “I know, right? I’m not sure about the guy with the beard part either. And I also don’t think that He or She, or the spirit, or whatever, interferes in our everyday lives. I mean, if this Famine were God’s judgment on me, then…wow.” She looked out at the canyon and her eyes grew distant. “I don’t think I have it in me to be Job, really.”
Suddenly she found herself thinking about Job…about his forgiveness of God’s judgment. It had always been her least favorite story. She’d never understood why Job had forgiven God in the end. How do you forgive a God who takes everything away from you as a test? That just seems totally unforgiveable.
Her mind pushed at her, gnawing at the wound. Every time she thought about Darryl and his stupid Jacob’s Ladder group, she felt the burn of outrage re-ignite in her gut. But maybe that was it, she thought. Maybe that was exactly why one had to forgive. She thought about Darryl, with his hunched shoulders and darting glances, his frightened skulking around the colony, and the sad, worn cot in the lab where he slept, away from prying eyes…
“I think I get it,” she finally said.
“Get what?”
She sighed, partly in resignation, and partly in relief. “What I believe. What I have to do. How I can move on.” She lay back in the snow and stared at the blazing cerulean sky above her. “It’s the most obvious lesson of all,” she said, suddenly sad that it had taken her so long to accept it.
“Which lesson, Fi?”
“The hardest one, Ash. Judge not.” She blinked, allowing her own truth to settle over her. “I have to forgive Darryl.”
Asher lay back beside her. “And how will you do that?”
She knew her answer before he even asked. As soon as she’d thought of church, it had come to her. Not why to forgive him, but how.
“He’s going to confess,” she said. “He’s going to tell his story for your book.” She rolled to face him, propping her head on her elbow. “I’ll commit with you, Asher. I know that Man isn’t perfect, but I agree that while the world still turns, and we still live, then we have to do our best to recover what was good. I know that I can convince Darryl to tell his story. And if he does, I know that I can move on. Blaming this whole mess on people is pointless. The only thing that matters,” she smiled, “is the truth.”
Asher gave a silent laugh at her little joke, his smile warming her heart. For the first time in a long time, he actually looked relaxed. She felt guilty with the knowledge that her depression had not only been weighing on her, but on him as well. But she felt better now, having made up her mind. Obviously it was a relief to him as well.
“Ok, Fi,” he said reluctantly. “Time to go.”
She nodded, and they got up and brushed the snow from their gear. She turned back one mor
e time before they disappeared into the trees. “Someday we’ll have to come back here, Ash.” The breeze gusted, needling its way through tiny openings in her zipper and seams. “When it’s warmer,” she added.
“It’s a date,” he smiled.
His blue eyes sparkled, sending flutters through her stomach. No matter how many times he looked at her that way, it never got less exciting. It was a good thing he planned to help her back down the slope, because her legs had turned to goo. One downfall of the flutters, she mused as she took his hand.
It was much trickier to navigate down the steep and slippery terrain than it had been to climb. At one point, Fi’s foot slipped, and when she caught herself, a dull pain drove into her arch, as if she’d stepped on a rock. She winced.
“You ok, Fi?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Just a little tenderfoot is all. Which is my own fault.”
“Well, I’m not going to argue with you there,” he chuckled. “When I decided to bring you out here, it occurred to me that if you were determined to run right off a cliff, I might as well give you a good one.”
Fi grimaced as he had a well-earned laugh at her expense. She must have looked like a lunatic pounding away on that treadmill in her bare feet.
“If your feet aren’t too tender,” he added, “I think we should hit the Hot Springs when we get back.”
“Ooooooh,” Fi moaned, her legs crying in silent agreement. “That’s a really good idea.”
Happy Holidays
----------- Fi -----------
The next morning, Fi awoke feeling truly refreshed. It was a welcome feeling. As heavily as her confusion may have started to weigh on Asher, she was the one who’d been crushed beneath its weight. Having made her decision, she felt like she could breathe again. She rose and dressed quickly, and once again wound her way through the lab pods to Darryl Heil’s lab.
It was still early when she arrived. His cot stood in the corner, topped by a rat’s nest of blankets and sheets, and though he was dressed, Darryl appeared disheveled and weary.
“Fi,” he sighed. “And here I was sure that I’d frightened you away permanently. What brings you back to visit the devil?”
His voice was bitter, not that she blamed him. After insisting that he share his deepest, darkest secrets, it was hardly fair of her to then bolt from the room like he’d announced he had the plague. She pulled up a stool.
“I told you that I was persistent,” she teased, and his knotted brow relaxed, just a bit. “Here’s the thing, Darryl,” she began, “I want to apologize for the way I reacted the other day…”
“Stop!” he cried, startling her into silence. “Please don’t apologize to me, I don’t think that I can bear it. You were right to run out of here.” His eyes darted away from her, fixing on the floor.
Crud. Now she felt really awful. She hadn’t even imagined what he must have felt after she’d left him in a cloud of dust. All she’d focused on was how his information had affected her. She smiled, hoping he would pick up on her apologetic vibe. “Well, Darryl, let’s just say that I was shocked by your confession, but then again, I invited it. And it wasn’t really fair, after asking you to trust me, to treat you the way that you thought I would, or any of the colonists would, if they knew.”
He hung his head, and she got up from her stool and approached him. Though it was barely perceptible, she saw him draw away from her.
“Hey,” she touched his hand where it lay on the concrete tabletop. She felt him shudder, but he met her eyes. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I came to a conclusion. I realized that I forgive you, Darryl. Well, actually, I realized that there was nothing to forgive. That it wasn’t my place to judge you or your intentions. Ambition and curiosity are natural parts of being human.” She bit back a smile. “As a wise person was kind enough to point out to me, where would we be if no one had aspired to cure smallpox?”
He stepped into the shadow and turned away from her. “What?” His voice trembled.
“I said that I forgive you. Darryl? Please turn around and look at me. I have something else to say.” He turned slowly and she saw his hands were shaking. He stayed in the shadow.
“I know that the world can forgive you too,” she continued. “You’re not the only one who made mistakes. Heck, who knows what would have happened with your research if it hadn’t been stolen? Just because you stumbled onto something dangerous with intentions that you now regret, doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have stumbled onto it anyway.” She saw him swallow, but his hands seemed to steady. “And just because you found it doesn’t mean someone else hadn’t, or wouldn’t. The world just isn’t so simple as bad guy/good guy anymore.” She paused. “Maybe it never was. But I have a plan for you Darryl, a way to absolve yourself once and for all.”
“And what would that be?” Though his voice was gravelly and sarcastic, he stepped back into the light.
She narrowed her eyes at him, gauging his reaction. “I suggest that you tell your story to Asher for his book.” He was silent for a minute. She pushed him again. “You do know about the book, I know you must. You’re on the Council, they tell you everything.”
He nodded and sighed, his shoulders sinking as the air left him like a deflating balloon. “Yes, I know about the book.” He plopped onto a stool and raised his hands. “But I don’t think that everyone will be as forgiving about it as you think, or as you are.”
“I don’t know Darryl, I don’t think you give people enough credit. Everyone in here feels guilty for something.” He looked up in surprise. “I mean it,” she insisted. “All of us left thousands of people behind without telling them what was coming. Don’t you think that haunts us at night? I mean, take me. My father told me that the Famine was coming, and I still went to school and sat with all those kids and teachers and I didn’t say one single word. Nothing. I knew they were all going to die, and I didn’t do anything to help them.”
As she said this, she felt her throat tighten and her stomach squeeze. She hadn’t thought about those days in a long time. Yuck. This is the way that Darryl makes himself feel every day. At least her words had the impact she wanted, because Darryl seemed truly startled by her own confession.
“I guess that makes sense,” he said slowly.
“Look, Darryl, here’s what I’m offering,” she said, pulling her focus back to the present. “Tell your story. Ask forgiveness. And then come to Christmas Day with my Family. We’ll make it a big point to support you publicly, and I know that will help the rest of Eden, and the rest of the world, to do so as well.” She held out her hand. “Do we have a deal?”
It was the best offer she could make. If Darryl knew how much she hated using her “celebrity” in any way, he would have realized the weight of her offer. She knew that within Eden, like it or not, she was a hero, as was most of her Family. Inviting him to join them after making his confession would provide the solidarity he needed to get through the worst of the colonists’ anger.
Tentatively, he reached out his hand and Fi took it, shaking enthusiastically. “Thank you, Darryl.” She exhaled, feeling some of her own tension leave her. She wasn’t sure what she’d have done if he’d refused her. Now her deal with him, and with herself, was sealed.
“No, Fi.” His voice was serious. “Thank you. I…I really needed this.”
Fi released his hand and stepped forward to embrace him. He tried to shy away, but she grabbed him before he had a chance. He stiffened and she squeezed harder just to tease him. She pulled away and laughed at his white face. “It’s time to get used to human contact again Darryl. You’ll probably find you like it.”
As she walked away she heard him curse, and then laugh.
War of Words
------------ Fi -------------
On Christmas morning, the Seeders and the Council of Eden sat around the table listening intently to the handheld radio, as Dr. Lawson gave his holiday address. He spent the first twenty minutes of his speech focused on the story of the
birth of Jesus. For a moment Fi thought that they might have been overly concerned. They knew that Lawson was going to be giving a big speech today, and that all of his listeners would be tuned in. Surely he would use this day and this platform to strengthen his stance?
Of course, at only twenty minutes in, she knew that he was just getting started. None of the rest of the group had listened to Dr. Lawson’s sermons in their entirety, mostly because the majority of them found his diatribes too hard to swallow. If they had, they would have realized that he rarely sermonized for less than an hour. It wasn’t until about forty-five minutes into his address that Lawson changed course and reverted to his usual topics.
“It is our responsibility, dear Truthers, to ensure that God’s word is law in this new world. Our forebears made the mistake of putting their own words and their own laws above His and we have all suffered the consequences of their hubris. The flashy neon glow of science and technology tempted us, and drew us away from our true inner light. That is why you must reject the doctrine and offerings of Eden and their Seeders.”
Fi inhaled sharply, along with everyone else in the room. It was the first time that she had heard Lawson go after the Seeders.
“They are roaming the countryside, spreading their false prophecy and giving out poisoned seed. Any seed that comes from a scientist, rather than God and his great creation, Nature, is a LIE.
But these seeds are from Nature! she fumed.
That is why we must shut down the stations and the Seeders. Our followers have learned a lot about these Seeders. Some say that there are only three or four of them, some say that there are many such small groups.”
Seeds of War Page 17
