by Unknown
After I’d eaten breakfast, I screwed myself up and asked Grandma something I wasn’t sure I should ask.
“Grandma?”
“Yes, Paulie?”
“Why do we have Grandpa’s head in a box? Is Grandpa Jack in there?”
“No, Paulie, he isn’t in there.” She sighed. “Easiest to think of it as just a holo of your Grandpa, with a recording of things he used to say. And stories he used to tell.”
“Why?”
“It’s supposed to help us all grieve, Paulie.”
“Grieve?”
“To help us get over being sad that your Grandpa died.”
“Oh. Is it supposed to help me?”
“No, Paulie. There were only so many things they could save from Grandpa and put in the box. His football nights and our breakfast chats were all they had room for.”
“Oh,” I said, then after a moment I asked, “Does it help?”
Grandma didn’t answer for a while, and looked very sad. I wished I hadn’t asked. When she did speak, she looked at the box and shook her head. “I don’t know, Paulie.”
Things went on pretty much like that for a few weeks. I heard Grandma yell at the box some more, and I got to hang around more on football nights. The box seemed to look and talk more like Grandpa all the time, but he said the same things over and over. It got boring after a while, and I think some of his football friends must have felt the same, because some stopped showing up.
One thing I saw was that the face in the box frowning, or to look cross. That didn’t make any sense. If it was just a talking holo, how could it get mad? Then, one evening, it made a really weird noise when it was saying one of its usual things. Everybody watching the TV stopped and looked at the box. It made the noise again, with the words all broken, and somebody muttered.
“Damn thing must be frizzed. Pull the plug.”
Then the head said, “Hey, will one of you bums pass me a can?” It was broken up, too, but clear enough.
The only sound in the room was the TV, then after a few seconds somebody used a word I wasn’t supposed to know.
“Is it supposed to do that? It ain’t supposed to do that.”
“How do I know?” said someone else.
“Free beer and a giant screen or not, this is just too freaky for me,” said a third. After a general mutter of assent everybody got up to find coats and things.
Doug reached out and touched something inside the box like there were bugs on it then closed it. Somebody switched off the TV. Doug pushed me outside, pretty roughly, and locked the door.
“Don’t mention this to your grandma, boy,” he said as he left.
The next week Grandma put the box in Grandpa Jack’s den, but nobody came. The den had a door from the house, and a door outside, but I knew the house wouldn’t open either of them for me. Grandma had left one of the windows open, though. She was always complaining about the smoky smell, so I guess she had thought she would let some air in and had forgotten to close it. I climbed in. The house would probably tell on me later – it didn’t like me much – but I wanted to see Grandpa Jack’s head.
It was in the usual place. I opened the front of the box, but the head wasn’t there. There was just a transparent sheet and a couple of buttons; one green, one red. I figured nothing was going to happen if I didn’t do something, so I pressed the green button. I stepped back when the head appeared out of nowhere because it made me jump. It was a bit fuzzy at first then it got more solid. The eyes looked around the room.
Grandpa said, “Hey guys. Beer in the usual place, snacks on the bar. Pitch in.”
A few minutes later, Grandpa said it again, and his eyes moved around as if they were looking for something. I got out of the way, but the head just said the same thing again, like a recording. I stepped back in front of the box, and looked more closely. The head looked confused. Then it looked at me. I mean really looked at me, and it started to frown. I could see now that the head was just a projection into the box, coming up through the clear panel. I tried to touch it, just to make sure, and my finger went right into it. The face was still looking at me, frowning, and then it lit up with a smile just like my Grandpa looked when he had figured something.
“Hey guys. Beer in the usual place, snacks on the bar. Pitch in.”
The smile turned back to a big frown, really quick, and then the face looked like it was puffing with its lips. The frown changed to confused, back to a frown, and then the head said, “Paulie,” and smiled.
Now I was scared. Grandma said the box didn’t have any space for me, so how did it know my name? I wanted to run away, but Grandma would probably go nuts if the box was left switched on. I tried to be really brave, and reached out for the red button.
“Paulie.”
Grandpa's head spoke again, still smiling, just as I hit the button. I jerked my hand back, but the head switched off and I realised I must have been holding my breath. I closed the box and went back to climb out the window. It would be getting dark before long and Grandma would start wondering where I’d got to.
When I got to the window, I stopped. If I ran away now, I probably wouldn’t ever get the box to myself again. I didn’t think Grandpa’s football buddies were going to come again, and once Grandma figured that out she’d lock the box away. I went back and opened it again. It took me a minute, and I still felt scared, but I pushed the green button and the head flickered and came back.
“Hey guys. Beer in the usual place, snacks on th…”
Grandpa looked confused for a moment then saw me. He smiled.
“Paulie.”
“Hi, Grandpa.”
Grandpa smiled at me for a while, then said my name again. I didn’t know what to say back.
“Paulie,” Grandpa said again, and then the face looked surprised and said, “Older?”
“I guess so.”
The face in the box seemed to be making funny shapes with its mouth then, in a sort of broken voice, said, “Where have I been?”
“You died, Grandpa.” The face looked shocked, then sad. I started feeling I’d done a bad thing, and that I ought to get out before I got into any worse trouble. I reached out for the red button.
“No!” Grandpa snapped. I jerked my hand back. He spoke again, softer. “Please don’t.”
Heck, was I in trouble now. Shouldn’t have switched it on, and now I was too scared to switch it off. “Sorry,” I said, “maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“It’s OK, Paulie. It’s OK.” He paused. “I feel very strange, Paulie. If I’m dead, why am I here?” Its words seemed to be coming easier the more it spoke.
“I don’t know, Grandpa.”
“Is this Hell, Paulie?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I feel so strange. There seems to be so much... missing.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say for a while, and it seemed Grandpa couldn’t either. He just looked at me, sort of smiling and frowning at the same time. There was one question I wanted to ask, but I was scared. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing again. The quiet felt so wrong, though, I had to say something. “Is that really you in there, Grandpa?”
Grandpa seemed to be thinking, and thought so long I wondered if he was going to answer at all.
“I don’t know, Paulie. I don’t seem to be able to remember much, and it’s hard for me to talk. I’m... fighting to say what I want. But what do you mean by ‘in there’?”
“I… I don’t think I should have said that.”
“Come on, Paulie. You know I won’t get mad at you for telling the truth.”
“I know, but Grandma will. Please let me switch you off so I can get out of here before she finds me.”
Grandpa looked real sad. “Paulie, you do what you have to do. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
I reached out to push the switch, but Grandpa hadn’t finished.
“Paulie?”
“Yeah?”
“Come back a
nd visit me again. If you find the time.”
I didn’t say anything so I wouldn’t have to break a promise, but I kinda nodded as I pushed the switch.
I didn’t get another chance to speak to Grandpa Jack after that. I didn’t like to hear Grandma crying, so I stopped hanging around the kitchen. With Grandpa’s head locked away in a closet, I couldn’t really get to him. After a week or so, I stopped trying.
One morning I came down to breakfast early. I hadn’t meant to. I’d woken up hungry and went down to breakfast without thinking. I never heard she was talking to Grandpa until I had already stepped into the kitchen. Grandma broke off what she was saying when she saw me and made a funny little squeal, then she got that look grownups get when they have been caught doing something.
“Paulie! What are you doing in here? Get out, right now.”
“But I was just—”
“I don’t care what ‘you were just’. Out of here and back up to your room. Right away.”
“Aww, Shut up, woman,” said Grandpa Jack. Grandma froze, and then turned to face the box.
“What did you say?” she whispered. Her face had gone a funny white colour.
“Don’t take it out on the boy. He just came down to breakfast early.”
“But… but…”
“I have to listen to you pretty much every morning, woman, and it really hurts me to hear you say the things you do. But don’t take it out on the boy.”
Grandma walked slowly towards the box.
“Shut up. Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”
Grandpa didn’t. “What did you do to me, Emmy? Why do you say all these things to me? Was that how you truly—”
Grandma had reached the box and she swept it off the counter and onto the floor. It landed with a really hard crash. I yelled “Don’t” and ran over to the box. Grandpa Jack’s head wasn’t in there. I put him on the table and reached for the button, but Grandma pulled me away by my arm and said not to touch it, like it was dirty or something. She bundled me back to my room, pulling real hard on my arm then she locked me in.
Two days later I saw a small truck outside our house. I was playing in the yard, so I ran indoors to see what was going on. I sneaked a bit, and didn’t go into the room where my grandma was. I didn’t like her as much, after she had locked me in. I stood outside the door. I heard the man talking to Grandpa Jack, whose voice sounded kinda mechanical. Then the man started to talk to Grandma.
“Well, Ma’am, there doesn’t seem to be anything fundamentally wrong with the unit.”
“It was saying things it should not be,” said Grandma, in her ‘talking down to people’ voice.
“Yup. Sometimes these things can do that. Memory leakage, we call it. Stuff that was right on the edge of the scan when the memories were recorded. We can take it back to the shop and reload it, if you like? Tidy things up around the edges?”
“I’m not talking about a few stray memories, young man. It argued with me.”
“Now, Ma’am, let’s not start imagining—”
“Don’t talk to me like I am an idiot, young man. A group of his friends reported to me that he demanded a beer from them. A beer! And not two days ago, he chastised me for speaking harshly to my Grandson, who was not even supposed to be in the recording.”
“But…”
“The rumours are true, aren’t they?”
“Now—”
“I’m starting to hear them all over the place. People finding more there than just a few memories.”
“OK, lady, simmer down. Look, if you don’t want the box back just say so and I’ll take it away. And if you sign this non-disclosure agreement, we can offer you a refund and a no-liability payment to cover your inconvenience.”
The rest was stuff I didn’t really understand. I heard noises like someone was packing stuff up, so I scooted back out to the yard. I saw the man with the truck put a box in the back then he headed back into the house with a digipad. I figured it was Grandpa Jack in the back of the truck, and realised I’d time to get over to the truck while the man was in the house.
The doors were open, and there was a packing box just inside. I careful opened it, and saw what looked like Grandpa settled inside. I froze. There wasn’t enough time to get him out and switch him on to say goodbye before the truck man got back.
I had an idea, and it felt like my heart was going to explode, or had stopped, but there was this huge feeling of coldness exploding in my chest. I grabbed the box and ran off to the far end of the garden. Only minutes after, I heard the doors of the truck slam shut then it drove away.
Now Grandma’s being extra nice to me, but I still don’t trust her. I’ve been pretending to feel upset about Grandpa going away, and I think she’s trying to make it up to me. Mum and Dad said they’d be home in a couple of weeks, which is really great, and they promised they’re going to bring me an AG sled for my birthday. Can’t wait. And I can’t wait to show it to Grandpa Jack.
Whisper in the Void
Robert Blevins
Ensign Harris stared out the forward viewscreen and watched the stars flashing past the Pegasus in a Doppler haze. They twinkled in blue and red, moving in hypnotic patterns through the darkness.
He was bored.
“Mother?”
“Yes, Mr. Harris?”
“Music volume up two levels.”
The soft female voice of the ship's computer responded with a polite warning. “Ensign Harris, I remind you of the commander's standing orders concerning music volume.”
“Mother, crank it up before I pull the plug on you.” Harris settled deeper into the pilot's couch and plopped his bare feet onto the control panels. He made a minor adjustment to avoid hitting anything critical and closed his eyes.
The passage door between the cockpit and the habitat vibrated with the pounding beat of the music. A few seconds later the door flew open with a bang. A tall man with close-cropped gray hair and an angry expression thrust his head into the cabin. “Mother, secure from media mode!”
The music died instantly, as if the computer were happy to oblige.
Commander Eastman reached out and shook the young man roughly. “Wake up! You're supposed to be on watch!”
“What the hell do you want, old man?” Harris rubbed his shoulder and made a face. “That hurt, you know.”
“I will do a lot more than that if you don't start following orders, Ensign. Mother, drop the shields.” Metal covers slowly lowered over the forward viewscreen, blocking the light show outside the spacecraft. He pointed to Harris' feet. “Take those off the panels. You could damage something.”
“Take it easy, old man. I'm just trying to relax.” He closed his eyes again and left his feet in place. “Why don't you take a few extra minutes of sack time? My treat.”
Eastman grabbed Harris firmly by both feet. He jerked him from the couch to the hard steel deck, dragging him bodily through the door and into the rear cabin.
“Hey! Let me go!”
Eastman dropped the offending feet to the deck with a thud. “On your feet, Ensign.”
Harris sat up on his elbows and eyed the commander with suspicion. “You want to take a swing at me, is that it?” The old man was standing over him with hands on hips, breathing hard. That square jaw seemed carved from the Rock of Gibraltar itself. He considered trying a well-placed punch to the jaw, and then decided against it. Eastman was over sixty, but still in top physical condition.
“If I wanted to kick your butt, it would already be over,” said Eastman. “Get up.”
Tough old bird, Harris thought. He got to his feet grudgingly and smirked. “I was only using the music to wake you up for your watch.”
“Next time use the intercom.”
“Whatever you say, old man.”
Eastman turned away and ducked through the doorway leading back to the flight deck. The door closed with a bang.
Bad luck, that's how I drew this duty. Harris sat at the galley table sipping a bottle of recyc
led water and watching a hologram. It was a comedy, but he was not paying attention to the story. The actors appeared as three-dimensional apparitions dancing in the center of the room.
Comedy shows were his sole enjoyment because he craved the sound of laughter and other human voices. Any voice was better than listening to the old man. I hate that by-the-book son of a bitch, he thought. Stupid old bastard. Good thing I only have thirty-two more days of this crap.
Sometimes he played little games in his mind and tried to calculate the time remaining in hours or minutes. Hope I can make it without killing the old coot in his sleep. He stopped the movie long enough to draw some more tasteless water from the recycling dispenser.
The Pegasus was a scout ship, assigned to travel ahead of a huge convoy of cargo vessels bound from Antares to Earth. The two astronauts' task was to relay any possible dangers back to the convoy and order course changes, if necessary. The job was boring and mostly automatic. The human crew merely assisted the ship's computer in doing the real work. The scouting assignment lasted exactly seventy-five days. At the end of this time, they would decelerate and rendezvous with the main body. Two other unlucky souls would then be assigned the next rotation.
The ship was a hundred meters in length, but Ensign Harris and Commander Eastman were confined to less than a tenth of the ship. The flight deck was barely large enough for its two couches and the control panels. The main living habitat was a mere thirty square meters. In one corner sat a tiny table with a single chair fastened to the deck. In another corner was a combination shower and toilet no bigger than a closet. The sole privacy provided were two sleeping cabins, each the size of a small bathroom. A ration and water dispenser near the galley table was programmed to provide simple nourishment under strict pre-set limits of supply and availability.
Eat or drink too much, and you could be placed on emergency rations for a few days by Mother.
The majority of the ship was the propulsion system. It was not accessible to the human crew except in an extreme emergency.
