"Okay,” Roach said. “I'll help you remember. Now, let's go eat. I'm serious about Eva Polk. If you get grounded I'll sneak in here and eat with you so you won't be by yourself. What do you say, old man?"
Ebner looked into his friend's eyes. The two stared at each other for several seconds.
"What?” Roach asked.
"Did I tell you something?"
"Yeah."
"What?"
"You're wife's in there. In your clock. Don't worry, I won't forget."
"We need to get her out,” Ebner said. “I don't have much time left. We need to get her out before I die."
"How?"
"I ... I haven't—"
"Wait,” Roach said, “let me guess. You haven't the foggiest?"
Ebner strained to remember. He squinted down at the hole in the cube of olive wood and tried to think. What was her name again? What was her name? It hurt so bad not to remember. It was like abandoning her. He saw a tear splash against the wood.
"Oh, come on,” Roach said, standing up and walking to the bed. “Give me that.” He took the hollow cube from his friend and looked down into the hole. “Yeah,” he said. “I see her. She's in there all right. She sure is pretty. I don't remember her being so tiny, though."
"Let me see!” Ebner said as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Give it back!"
"Hey,” Roach said, still looking into the hole. “There really is something in there.” He tried to reach into the hole, but his hand was too big. He turned the cube hole-down and shook it. Nothing fell out. He looked back into the hole. “You got a pencil or something around here?"
"I, uh ... I haven't the foggiest."
"Of course you haven't. Why would they let you have a pencil, anyway? You'd probably ram it through your eardrum.” Roach opened Ebner's top dresser drawer and rummaged through its contents. “What a bunch of worthless junk. What do you need with a nasal aspirator? Ah! Here we go.” He picked up a chopstick and shut the drawer. “Thank goodness for Chinese Night.” He stuck the small end of the chopstick through the hole. “Looks like a little black box in the back corner. Do you remember building this thing with a clip inside to hold something? Have you been hiding something?"
"My wife."
"Got it,” Roach said. He set the chopstick on the dresser and turned the cube upside down. Nothing fell out at first, but something banged around inside the cube as he shook it. Finally, a black box, barely small enough to fit through the four-inch hole, fell out and landed in his palm.
"Bring back any memories?” Roach asked.
"What?"
"Never mind.” Roach opened the box's hinged top and dumped its contents onto the dresser. There were three items: a woman's wedding ring, a tightly folded piece of paper, and a small charcoal-gray cube with no features other than a peculiar iridescent quality that seemed at odds with the matte finish of its surface. Roach picked up the cube first. “Well, I'll be a monkey wrench. It's been a long time since I've seen one of these."
"What is it?” Ebner asked.
"A five terabyte data block.” Roach set the block on the dresser and picked up the ring. “This belonged to Kori. I can still remember when she had it on her finger."
Ebner reached out for the ring and Roach placed it in his hand. Ebner cupped the ring, hung his head, and sobbed.
Roach picked up the folded piece of paper and opened it. It was stiff and brittle and fought to stay folded. Roach fought back and finally won. The paper was covered on one side by writing. As Roach read silently, he backed up and then plopped down on the chair in the corner. After several minutes, he looked up at Ebner and then at the data block on the dresser. “No way,” he said, shaking his head. “No ... way!"
Ebner glanced at his friend, then looked down at his hands and slid the woman's wedding ring onto his left pinky. It slid all the way down. He wiped his eyes and said, “She stopped wearing it when she started losing weight. It was loose on her finger and she was afraid she'd lose it."
Roach stood up, walked across the room, and closed the door. He walked to the bed and sat down at Ebner's knees. “You need to read this,” he said, holding the paper out.
Ebner took the paper and stared at it while Roach leaned over with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. After a few minutes, Roach looked up and asked, “Well?"
"Well what?"
"Have you read it?"
"I don't read anymore."
Roach sighed and took the paper back. “Can you listen while I read, then? Can you try real hard to listen to every word very closely?"
"Yes."
"Okay.” Roach rubbed his face, took a deep breath, and glanced at the words. He looked back at Ebner and said, “This is your handwriting. This is how you used to write, so listen up. This is important."
"I'm listening."
"Okay.” Roach began to read. “To whom it may concern: If you are reading this note, then I have either died or been otherwise separated from my clock and the enclosed memory cube. I cannot imagine how many years have passed, nor how the world has changed, but I hope for Kori's sake that there is goodwill in the hearts of men and that someone will be merciful enough to help her.
"I had to do what I did, because she is dying. The doctors diagnosed her illness as Leushaun's Syndrome and gave her three months. That was nearly three months ago. Despite her steadfast beauty and healthy appearance, she has begun to show the subtle but ominous symptoms that come with the final stage. I cannot bear to watch her die. Not yet, anyway.
"I won't ever find anyone else like Kori, so I'll never marry again. This is not a vow; it's simply what I know. It is my hope that she and I might be reunited in my last days, and that we can die in each other's arms. She knew nothing of my plan. She thought I was sending her to a hospital on New Mohall for treatment. When she asked me about the nature of the treatment, I told her that it was a surprise. She expected to be back in a few hours. I initiated the t-mail transmission myself, and she blew me a kiss from the digitizer stall just before being encoded. Instead of sending her away, though, I downloaded her onto the enclosed memory cube. This was deceptive and highly illegal, but I could think of no other way. There is no cure for LS.
"I lied to her parents and told them that she had died after instructing me to have her cremated immediately. I arranged for a fake memorial service and filled an urn with ashes that I had altered to resemble those from a human cremation. May God forgive me. As you pass your own judgment on me, remember that she would have died within days.
"Please help my wife, Kori Hanna McCain Mosby, SS 744-64-7475-986. She is the most wonderful person I know. Signed, Ebner James Mosby. August 1, 2532."
Roach looked up from the paper. “Do you understand what I just read, Ebner?"
"I ... yes. I remember now. Seven four four six four seven four seven five nine eight six. How could I have forgotten?"
"If Kori is really stored on that block..."
"She is."
"Do you realize what this means, Eb? Do you have any idea?"
"Yes,” Ebner said, his eyes glistening. “We can die together."
"No,” Roach said. “That's not what it means, buddy. They found the cure for LS two or three years ago. They found a cure! Kori can live. If we can recover her from that block, she can live."
Ebner lay back in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He bumped his gums together and scratched his cheek with his long, yellowed fingernails.
"Can you believe this, boss? You saved her life! How does that make you feel?"
"I ... don't know.” He would have offered an answer if he'd had one in mind, but at that moment he just felt very confused.
* * * *
Roach stood outside the door marked DIGITAL MASS TRANSMITTING & RECEIVING—AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Ebner stood beside him resting on his cane. Roach studied the keypad on the wall next to the door. On the pad were twelve keys marked 1 through 9 plus *, 0, and #. Four of the keys—the 5, 6, 7, and *—showed obvious signs o
f wear. The others looked brand new. Roach looked around. Once the hallway in the vicinity of the door was mostly vacant, he started pressing numbers.
*567. Nothing.
567*. Nothing.
*765. Nothing.
765*. Nothing.
"Come on!” Roach whispered. “I've seen them do this. They use the same code all over the station.” He closed his eyes. “Okay, okay ... I think I got it.” He glanced up and down the hall again and then wiggled his index finger. “I think it's the ol’ pyramid trick."
*56765*. The door's locking mechanism clicked and a tiny, green light glowed on the keypad. “All right, then,” Roach said, opening the door and peeking inside. “Nobody's home. Come on, boss.” He led Ebner into the room and shut the door. A control console occupied the middle of the small room and faced a mass digitizing stall large enough for one person or a stack of boxes. Hanging from a hook on the side of the control console was a red, metal fire extinguisher.
Ebner looked around and asked, “What are we doing?"
"Remember this room?” Roach asked. “This is the first room I saw on the station. Did they t-mail you up or send you on a shuttle?"
"I haven't the foggiest."
Roach pulled the five-terabyte data block from his pocket and stepped to the console. Ebner followed. Roach scanned the control panel, looking for a block receptacle. He kept looking. And looking.
"We got a problem, boss,” he said, pointing to a row of small, circular receptacles. “I was afraid of this. This machine won't take a memory block.” Roach held up the iridescent cube in his hand. “This thing's obsolete. Everything's set up to take petarods."
The door to the room opened. Roach slipped the memory cube into his pant pocket and donned an expression of ignorant bliss.
"How'd you guys get in here?” asked a technician wearing a Sunset Manor uniform. “What are you doin'?"
"I ... I can't rightly say,” Ebner said.
"Where's the ice cream?” Roach asked, sticking a wiggling index finger into one of his nostrils. “Mama said we could have some.” His cap was blinking green.
"You guys need to leave now,” the technician said, holding the door open. “Get out of here."
"Not until we get ice cream,” Roach said.
"The ice cream's out here,” the technician said. “Come and look."
Roach smiled and patted Ebner's arm and said, “Let's go! I want chocolate."
"Chocolate gives me the hiccups,” Ebner said, following Roach toward the door.
"Then have vanilla."
"Vanilla gives me dairy gas. Do they have Jello?"
* * * *
Roach followed Ebner to the edge of the Space Walk. As Ebner began his backward baby-step shuffle toward the overstuffed seat of his favorite chair, Roach grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"Don't,” Ebner said, pulling his arm away.
"Look out there,” Roach said, pointing toward the nine-foot-high window in the wall. “That's New Mohall."
"Where?"
"Right there,” Roach said, still pointing. “See the two shuttles moving side-by-side? They just look like dots of light. They're heading right toward New Mohall."
Ebner squinted. He could see so many satellites and stations and glints of light that he had no idea which one his friend was talking about.
"See it?” Roach asked.
"No. They all look the same."
"Come here,” Roach said, stepping closer to the window.
"Why?"
Roach moved closer to his friend and spoke quietly. “Do you remember what I read to you in your room? About Kori?"
Kori. Ebner knew that name. “Kori,” Ebner said. Now he could remember. “Yes."
"Well, if we're gonna recover her from the data block, we're gonna have to go there.” He pointed toward the window again.
"Why?"
"My grandson lives there,” Roach said, taking hold of Ebner's arm and slowly leading him toward the window. “My grandson's a smart kid, see. He's a scientist, and he can probably help me help you help Kori."
Kori. There was that name again. “I remember her,” Ebner said, still moving forward, succumbing to Roach's pull and following the squeak of his own cane's rubber toe. He suddenly remembered that he was wearing Kori's ring on his pinky.
"See that station just to the left of the one with the big panels, right there?” Roach asked. “It looks like a giant wheel. See? It turns real slow. There's a freighter leaving it right now."
"It looks small."
"That's because it's so far away. It's really very big. My grandson is there right now, and I'm sure he can help Kori."
"How do we get there?” Ebner asked, still moving forward. He wanted to help Kori more than anything. He could remember her. He tried to hold her name in his mind. He promised himself that he wouldn't let go this time and wished he could make the same promise to her.
"There's a few ways we can get there, boss. We can t-mail ourselves, or we can steal a shuttle. Or..."
"Or what?” Ebner stopped in his tracks when he reached the window, but kept his eyes trained on the giant wheel.
"Or we can hide on a shuttle like stowaways. Shoot, we could even highjack a shuttle. I've always wanted to."
Ebner put his palm on the glass. He couldn't remember ever touching it before. It felt cold. “Did Kori and I ever have kids?” he asked.
"No,” Roach answered.
Ebner gazed through the glass, through his own reflection. From the corner of his eye he could see the reflections of the green LEDs on Roach's stroke cap.
"Can you see it?” Roach asked, nodding out toward space.
"Yeah,” Ebner said. “What's it called again?"
"That's New Mohall. Twenty-seven thousand people. High-dollar real estate. Great view. I bet there's some kid at his bedroom window looking at you and me right now through his telescope. Wave to him. Come on. Wave.” Roach waved. Ebner waved too.
"Can he see us?” Ebner asked.
"Yeah,” Roach said, “he can see us. And I bet there's a Chinese kid looking up at your feet right now through his telescope. Look down and wave to him. Go on. Wave.” Roach looked down toward the Space Walk and waved.
Ebner looked down, bumped his gums together, and soiled his pants.
* * * *
"I need to call my grandson,” Roach said in a hushed voice. He was sitting next to Ebner at the dinner table. “I'm gonna get his t-mail address."
"They won't let you use the phone,” Ebner said.
"Look,” Roach said, “we're old. If we only do what they let us do, we're not gettin’ our money's worth outta this place. You know what it costs to keep us in here?"
"No."
"Enough that it oughta include some phone time. So here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna get up like I'm headin’ for the john. When I get over there by the door to the offices, you're gonna hit you-know-who with a ... what do you got on your plate?” Roach leaned over and took a look at Ebner's dinner. “Oh, man. Use the mac and cheese. Just grab a handful and nail her right in the face."
"Why?"
"So I can use the phone."
Ebner dropped his fork and reached for his macaroni and cheese.
"No!” Roach said in a loud whisper. “Not yet, boss. Wait until I get over there by the door to the offices. And after you throw it, stand up and start unbuttoning your shirt."
"Why?"
"Just remember to do it. You've gotta make a scene. It's a classic strategy of distraction. Lana's right over there and she'll come runnin’ once you go into action. Don't forget. Mac and cheese, then the shirt. Mac and cheese, shirt."
"I won't forget.” Ebner looked across the table at Eva Polk. She looked back and chewed her carrots and peas.
"Do it for Kori,” Roach whispered. Then he stood up and announced, “Here I go to the bathroom.” He walked away from the table, looking back at Ebner every few seconds. As he neared the door that led to the offices, he glanced back again.
<
br /> Ebner cupped his hand and scooped up most of the macaroni and cheese on his plate. He looked over at Eva Polk and said, “You took my roll.” He reached up over his head, took a deep breath, and willed his arm into motion.
Roach smiled and moved to the keypad on the wall. He pressed *56765*, and the door's locking mechanism clicked.
Eva Polk screamed, shocking Ebner.
"Ebner!” said Lana, the nurse.
Ebner thought of Kori and remembered that he still had work to do. He stood up. As he began to unbutton his shirt, he looked at the door leading to the offices. Roach was nowhere to be seen.
"Ebner, stop that!” Lana said.
"I'm taking off my shirt,” Ebner said. “And that might not be all."
Eva Polk screamed again.
"Stop it,” Lana said, stepping between Ebner and the table. She brushed his hands aside and began buttoning his shirt. “I just don't get it, Eb.” She looked down at the cheese sauce on her hands and said, “Oh, Ebner! This is disgusting. What's gotten into you?"
Ebner thought of Kori. “I don't know,” he said, though at that moment he could have offered an answer if he'd wanted to.
"You're being a bad boy, Eb,” Lana said. “I'm gonna have to send you to your room. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Now go. Go to your room. I'll bring your dessert to you there, but only if you go straight to your room."
Ebner took another look at Eva Polk, grabbed his cane, and started the baby-step shuffle toward G-33.
* * * *
Ebner was sitting in the chair in the corner of his room, eating a piece of key lime pie, when Roach appeared at the door. “Got it,” Roach said, holding up a small piece of paper with writing on it.
"Got what?” Ebner asked.
"The t-mail address to my grandson's lab. I told him all about the data block and your wife's case of LS. He's getting ready for us right now. Let's go."
"I'm not finished with my pie."
"Forget about the pie, boss. This is for Kori."
Kori. Of course. Ebner set his pie on top of his dresser and grabbed his cane. “Let's go,” he said.
Minutes later, Roach punched buttons on the keypad outside the door marked DIGITAL MASS TRANSMITTING & RECEIVING—AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. The lock clicked, he opened the door, and the technician inside the room said, “What are you doing?"
Challenging Destiny #23 Page 11
