by Far Freedom
“Why am I important?”
“Part of the answer to your question is almost impossible to explain, The other part is very simple.”
“And you don’t seem willing to tell me either part of the answer.” 1013 made the comment after waiting too long for Petros to continue. 1013 was wet from falling in the pond and felt dirty and uncomfortable. It got up and walked away from Petros, lugging all its specimen-examining paraphernalia. Petros could follow if he liked. If he talked 1013 might or might not listen. It couldn’t think or listen very well with dirty, sticky feathers. Petros did follow, but Petros still didn’t speak.
1013 bathed and Petros watched, making 1013 feel naked. Well, it was naked, wearing only its feathers, but the human’s little brown eyes seemed to see through the golden covering. It was oddly exciting to be centered in his attention. 1013 resolutely fought its impulses and stayed out of touching and smelling distance of the man. When it made a meal for itself it didn’t offer to also feed Petros. He wouldn’t be staying long.
But when he departed - and he would depart - it would be quiet again. His deep, smooth voice would remain in its memory, making its absence painful, because now 1013 remembered a time when there were always voices. “How long can you stay?”
“As long as it takes. Do you want to remain here, alone?”
“When are you going to tell me why the Protector wants me to leave my home?”
“In a little while, Little One. It takes some skill and planning because I know the proposition will frighten you.”
“It will not!”
“Where did you bury Sam?” Petros disturbed 1013 with the change of direction of the conversation. It also brought back the memory of Sam’s death. She had to admit, 13 sang the most powerful lament anyone could remember. 1013 was paralyzed with grief for what seemed like years. It had to climb far out of its memories to reach a point where it could start talking with Petros again.
“We didn’t bury him. We made a monument to keep his memory but we saved his remains in a stasis chamber, in hopes of someday learning how to revive him.”
“I would like to see his remains.”
“Now? Why?”
“It’s only a matter of personal interest. It makes no difference since I don’t understand the importance. But the Protector does insist Sam didn’t die here, not in this pathway.”
“I know what I remember! Here, I’ll show you.” It got up from its meal and motioned for Petros to join it at the data interface section of one wall of its residence. The interface soon displayed a view of an error message, indicating the data 1013 requested did not exist. 1013 was momentarily dumbfounded, until it realized the Protector could have changed the data. They could go to the building where Samuel Lee’s body was stored but even that would prove nothing if the Protector had also removed Sam’s body.
“What does this mean?” Petros inquired about the data display. “Is there a problem?”
“I can find no record of Samuel Lee! If the Protector has not interfered by erasing the data and removing Sam’s body, why would both disappear?”
“I only have a vague knowledge of why,” Petros said, exhaling as if relieved by something, “but it seems that anything is possible. It’s an unsettling feeling, knowing the solid floor of reality is being pulled from under me. But I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m dead.”
“You’re dead?”
“Well, maybe not right now, but I’m just a messenger. I was happy to oblige the Protector. Especially since it was you I was coming to see.”
1013 had to stop thinking too hard about all the strange implications behind Petros’s words. It had to ignore the fantastic and concentrate on what seemed real. Petros seemed real. Why should 1013 even bother to test his reality? “Why am I special to you?”
“I knew you.” Petros’s reply was heavy with unspoken meaning.
“That isn’t possible! But if I ignore the impossibility, how did you know me?”
“Ah, there is a price you must pay for that knowledge.” Petros smiled at 1013.
“What do I have to exchange for it?” This was a human game of hidden motives and manipulation of others, as Sam had often described about his species. 1013 tried to take the whole conversation as a diversion and not as a life-changing threat.
“To start with, let’s take a look at your traveling clothes.”
“Clothes? I don’t wear clothes.”
A package appeared on the table where 1013 had been eating. It was a golden mass of material enclosed by a clear film. The film evaporated when 1013 touched it. The material relaxed into a pile of folds and forms. 1013 pulled apart the folds to reveal a one-piece suit with no obvious method of getting into it. “It looks something like a spacesuit.”
“It’s probably that and much more. It’s for your protection, starting with a very cold environment you will appear inside. You might be wearing it for years.”
“What am I to do in it?”
“You’re going to save the life of Sam’s wife.”
1013 restrained its reaction, thinking of nothing for a few moments, then thinking about what 13 and the other scientists had done to bring Samuel Lee from Earth. 1013 remembered something about a magic number - a vector - that in theory could send Sam back to Earth to the same moment he left. “The Protector wants to send me back in time, to a thousand years ago!”
“Time travel, as you and I think of it, is impossible,” Petros said. “But infinity and eternity make all things seem possible. 13 was quite clever to see Sam’s teleportation as a two-way path, even when she didn’t know the next level of… I seem to be talking about things I know nothing about! The Protector is a clever fellow! Yes, from your perspective and mine it is time travel into the past. Please, don’t get the Protector started trying to explain everything to us. It’s certainly a waste in my case, since I’m dead.”
“How did you die? And you haven’t told me how you knew me.”
“I died holding your hand.” Petros stopped at that, as though he couldn’t bear the memory.
“Why?” The question increased the distress it saw in Petros. It finally had to touch Petros again, even stroke his shoulder, to bring his attention back.
“Laplace murdered you, I think. Poor confused Golden One! It couldn’t have been an accident. You were trying to protect Melvin. I had to reach you! I think I made it worse, when they saw me. They knew I was going to kill them all. All I did was lie down with you and Melvin and take your hand. Then I died. I failed them! I hope they saved Milly!”
1013 tried for a long time to get Petros to explain what all of this meant. He wouldn’t explain anything. He did try to stress the importance of 1013 remembering what he said. Then he composed himself and grabbed the golden spacesuit.
“I’ll not fail Milly again!” Petros swore deeply. “No matter how much I love you, no matter how much pain this will cause you, I will stuff you into this suit, Constant!”
“What did you call me?”
“Constant! Your name is Constant! Get into the suit! You know you can’t stay here!”
“But I don’t know why-“
“You don’t need to know why! There is no why! You are the most stubborn Servant, the most stubborn Golden One, the most stubborn woman in the universe! You are the perfect person to protect Milly. You will be her constant companion. You will not give up. Somehow you will keep Milly alive until she can see Sam again.”
” Sam is alive?” 1013’s heart was close to exploding with too many emotions.
“The last time I saw him, yes! Get into the suit!”
“No! I will not!”
“Why not?” Petros threw the spacesuit at 1013.
“Because you are ordering me! What is the hurry? The past will wait for me! There is a lot to understand, a lot to prepare for! Give me time! I want to know all about Milly and the past. I want to know all about you!”
“The more you know, the more you will be afraid to go. You are already too afraid to
go. I’ve told you you died.”
“Yes, but can’t-“
Petros cut 1013 off. “Milly is not the only one you will save. She’s pregnant. Her unborn child was very important to everyone I knew. His name is Samson. You have to save him, too. Please, get into the suit now!”
A child! Milly would have a child! 1013 would help with the child. Despite what Sam had often said about children, 1013 knew childbearing was perhaps the most meaningful experience in life. It knew from the start it would do as the Protector requested. But was it too much to ask: to keep Petros alive in this here-and-now for a little longer? Yes, it was. 1013 could see by looking at his wonderful and emotional face that Petros was suffering for some reason and would not stay much longer.
“Is it the role of the female to obey the male?” 1013 asked. “And I am the female?”
“That’s my girl,” Petros said, smiling sadly. “The answer is yes - if it’s something she wants to do.”
1013 tried to analyze the spacesuit, looking for seams or controls. All it could identify was the arms and the legs. As it held the suit before it, with the ends of the sleeves in its hands, the suit squirmed out of its hands and attached to 1013’s wrists. The sleeves then wrapped swiftly around its golden arms and opened to take its shimmering body inside. Finally it zipped down 1013’s extended legs. Shoes and gloves budded from cuffs and sleeves and patiently evaded all of 1013’s attempts to stall them covering its feet and hands. As 1013 stopped struggling to notice how comfortable the suit felt, the helmet and three small items appeared on the table. Petros picked up the helmet and handed it to 1013. 1013 took the helmet but it also took Petros’s hands. 1013 stared up at his face. 1013 could not understand or even believe most of what Petros had said. 1013 was very sure, however, that Petros loved it. Loved her , loved who she would become: Constant. He leaned forward, bringing his face so close it could feel his breath on its feathers. He kissed it - her!
Petros guided the helmet to the collar of her golden spacesuit. The helmet manipulated itself into position and sprang around her head.
“You must also take these two letters and the box,” Petros said. He stuck them together and then stuck them to the spacesuit near one shoulder. “They need addresses.”
“What should I do with them?” 1013 was surprised at the functioning of the helmet and suit. They were hardly noticeable.
” You will understand when it is time to mail them, but don’t open them and don’t show them to Milly!” And Petros disappeared.
The new world bloomed into existence. Constant fell down a slope. She found her footing and searched with a light the suit provided at her unspoken desire. She needed to climb upward to a metal platform and the door at its end. The suit gave her traction wherever she reached with hand and foot. It took time to discover how to operate the door. It was an airlock. Then she was through the chamber and into the bright light of a corridor. She was not a moment too soon in escaping the place from which Samuel Lee had once departed Earth. Constant saw the person sitting in the wheeled chair, her shivering subsiding as she lost consciousness.
Constant simply leaped away from the structure and down to the floor of the tunnel, landing close to Milly. Constant shoved the wheeled chair, the suit providing extra force to her efforts. The frozen wheels slid on the concrete. She didn’t know which way to go, but the golden suit provided the information that one direction was warmer. Only when she had pushed Milly into a nonlethal temperature did Constant stop and consider what she had just done. The world she knew for two million years was gone forever. She was no longer immortal; she would soon die. But even a creature such as she had once been could not look upon the crippled freezing Milly, all alone and pregnant, and not feel how tragic she was. There was - there could be - there must be! - some small chance Milly would see Sam again.
A loud continuous noise erupted in the tunnel and red lights flashed. Constant decided it was a warning system, probably caused by the damaged equipment from which she had just escaped. She heard a door open and footsteps falling in the distance. She shook Milly a little to see if she was still alive. She was! Constant let Milly have one good look at her, then Constant made herself invisible. She had a lot of studying to do before she could take control of the situation.
I owe my deepest gratitude to Constant for helping me fix some of the mess I made. I have no excuse for my mistakes. We all make them, don’t we? The suffering is most regrettable, yet how are we to know the good unless there is bad? So simple, and even we who think we know so much can’t argue with that. It is the nature of meaning and the meaning of nature. Constant and Milly will have a horrible and wonderful life. They will live. But that, as they say, is - or was - another story.
P.
Section 025 She Who Must Be Obeyed
Dear Sunny,
Dear Sammy,
I’m not well enough to write this. Perhaps it’s therapy for me. I’ll review it some day and see if I should keep it for you guys.
As I warned you, and as Sammy must know from experience, violence hurts. It hurts you deeply, down where no wound is easy to find and repair. In this modern age there are chemical and surgical procedures that can clear a mind of its troubles, but few of us trust what we don’t understand - especially when it involves our very identity. In ancient times we used to say our experiences defined us, and we used to say things about suffering that made it seem like an honor to suffer. If our tragedies broke us and made us useless, then our lives were done. Today science can mend us if we are broken. I hope I’m not too broken. I hope I’m not useless.
The Jessie I once knew is gone forever. This is not to say I love her any less. This is not to say she has lost the most important parts of who she is. She claims to have lost her innocence. She has become even more human, for it seems all humans must lose their innocence. Jessie seems well and even keeps her sense of humor. She treats me with affection but I think she’s holding something back. I think it must involve Milly. Milly must be alive. I know Aylis would do everything to save her. I was too cowardly to ask. I’m unable to ask anyone, muted by the shock and the shame.
Milly must be destroyed by all that she suffered. When I think about her I blame myself and despise myself for the fantastic life I lived while she endured a hellish existence. Jessie must be the living symbol of all that Milly lost, if Milly is able to understand who Jessie is and what she means to me. Still, I think of Milly and yearn for what I can never have.
If we are thoughtful and sensitive people, we try to live our lives according to principles of good conduct. When we fail as badly as I have, that is a wound which should never heal. But life goes on, and in time we are simply scarred survivors hopefully trying to be better. If we live such long lives, it becomes paramount that we do it well, to at least attempt to be deserving of the good experiences that will come our way during a long life, to at least attempt to assess the impact of our actions on others. Time may have its healing effect, whether I now feel deserving or not.
Your loving father,
Samuel
I was very old and should have been very tough. I wasn’t. I was fragile, or felt I was. We all should be as tough as we need to be, when we need to be. Or else we can’t go on. I was determined to go on, come hell or high water, fragile or not. You have to be selfish. You have to want it. I knew I had to become tough enough to survive what the battle in the Hole did to me. I also knew I wouldn’t be getting any style points for my sluggish recovery. I knew what Jessie endured, dying in childbirth, getting shot in the Hole, and experiencing some of the worst moments of an alien race called humanity. God knows what Milly endured. I would listen to Constant telling stories about Milly to Jessie, and I would soon have to leave their presence, I was so disturbed. I hardly got a scratch! Yet I was the one who suffered some form of hysterical paralysis that kept me mute for many days after I emerged from one of the Protector’s black cubes. It didn’t help my ego, being the last one out and being watched and fretted over
by everyone else. I couldn’t even make my telepathic transceiver operate. About a hundred times a day someone - everyone - would ask me how I was doing. I shrugged a lot. I smiled what I thought was a genuine smile. I thought I was okey-dokey. I couldn’t understand why I remained mute. It was damned embarrassing! I wanted to talk to people - Pete, Zakiya, Alex, Pat, Phuti, even Aylis.
Jessie stayed by my side almost every minute of the day. I wondered - unfairly - if she was trying to establish her right to be my wife. Because of Milly. I never saw Milly. Nobody offered to tell me of her current condition. I worried about her. I thought about her more and more, and more and more I felt less and less worthy of seeking any kind of relationship with her. “How is she?” I thought, and darned if the words didn’t come out of my mouth! Jessie, sitting next to me, almost dropped Sunny.
Jessie sucked in her breath, calmed herself, and spoke like my fourth-grade teacher. “Did you say something, Samuel Lee?”
“How is she?” I repeated it slowly, trying not to make myself sound too desperate to know.
“And you are speaking of?”
“Milly.” I knew Jessie was trying very hard to be kind about Milly. As well as I thought I knew Jessie, however, I still was not sure how she really felt about Milly. God only knew how Milly felt about Jessie. Perhaps I should have stayed mute for a few more years, or centuries. Jessie was looking at me with an expression I had never seen before. “I’m sorry,” I said, and was, but, damn it, Milly was important to me! “Was she the wrong thing to start talking about?”
“Hold Sunny. I’ll be right back.”
“Why - ?” I started to ask, but got nothing but a brief smile over her shoulder. So Sunny and I talked for awhile. He liked to make sounds in response to Jessie talking to him and I was gratified he did the same for me. He smiled. I smiled.
Someone sat down next to me somewhat roughly. Sunny looked at her and grinned toothlessly and waved his little arms. He was happy to see whoever it was. I glanced to the side and saw Milly! Jessie brought her to me, perhaps forcibly, and sat her down. Milly tried to get up. Jessie sat next to her and held her in place. I scooted over to make more room. The bench by the lake was dimensioned for only two.
