To Wake the Living (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 2)

by Robert F Hays

  “No, the broadcast also included a call for help. The system that wakes up the first colonists was malfunctioning. They’re all probably still in orbit under cryogenics.”

  “How long will it take before they can land?”

  “Somewhere between two months and two years. Depends on what’s already been done. The Commonwealth government’s also sending an unmanned probe that’s capable seeding the planet with newer strains of atmosphere converting bacteria and plant the Mulch Weed necessary for the soil.”

  “Ok, anyone else you think I need?”

  “Yes, a communications engineer, so you can keep in touch.”

  “Carol,” Jim said, raising a finger before his smile suddenly disappeared. “Oh shit! I’m getting married, that’ll postpone things, and I don’t know how she’ll react to this, a honeymoon with a dozen people coming along.”

  “Oh, that’s no problem. You can not leave for about a month. The Commonwealth probe has to find a jump point so that you do not exit parallel space in a gas cloud or asteroid belt. She’s excited about the idea. She says it’ll give you a mission in life. You’ve been rather depressed lately”

  “What? Who else knew about this before me?”

  “That’s about all, except for the representatives from the government. One will have to accompany you to set up a liaison and suggest that they join the Commonwealth as a member.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “Nothing for me to do there. You’re in charge; I can follow what you’re doing over the 3V system. It’ll be better that I study the event from a distance so I do not affect the results. I can be your backup sending supplies as needed. You can guess who I suggest you should ask to furnish us with a small freighter.”

  “Yes, the trade possibilities would be very attractive to the Montoyas.”

  “That settles it then. How about November eighth, that’ll give the seeders on the probe time to do their job. Just remember that we want a complete news blackout on this. The Commonwealth government does not want some corporation taking advantage of the situation. That’s why they came to me. They preferred an academic to handle things. Do not even discuss things on the V phone, it’s not totally secure.”

  “You seem to have told enough people. I take it you called Carol on the V phone while I was on the way here.”

  “No, she stopped by just before going home. Wanted to confirm the arrangements about your boys staying at my house while you were on your honeymoon.”

  “When she got home she knew?”

  “Yes, I asked her not to say anything. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

  “Hmm... If you hear screaming from my place tonight it’s me beating her.”

  “I’ll call the hospital and have a bed reserved for you. From what you’ve told me, she can take care of herself.”

  * * *

  “What do ya mean, ah cain’t go?” Sam asked, frantically waving his arms. “When ma enlistment in the cavalry was up ah was a goin’ ta git me a small spread on the frontier, maybe Arizona. It was rough out thair. Ah can handles the likes of this here planet.”

  “You’d stay there?” Jim said.

  “Yep. Ya said there was free land as much as ya wants. I’d have a farm, that’s ma dream, ah don’t likes the city.”

  Jim folded his arms and slightly bowed his head. Carol and Karla listened to the conversation sitting on the living room couch. “This frontier is a lot different to the one you knew. Instead of horses, they have computer guided grid navigators. Instead of plows, they have giant machines controlled by computers. You can only get there by spacecraft. You told me you were scared of space travel.”

  “Ah was dern scared of gittin’ on a steam train the first time. We heard some Yankee Colonel name a Morrison was a blowin’ up the tracks, but ah still got on.”

  “But Sam, the computers...”

  “Jest watch this,” Sam said, raising his head and speaking into the air. “Computer thaing, what’s the time?”

  “It is twenty fourteen, local time,” the computer replied.

  “See!” Sam said with an expression of accomplishment.

  “Sam, ask it where my dog is at the moment.”

  “Fine.” Sam raised his head a second time. “Computer thaing, where’s Jim’s dawg at right now?”

  “Item dawg unknown, please clarify,” the computer replied.

  “Hell!” Sam paused then turned to the two women present. “Pardon ma bad language ladies.”

  “Jim,” Carol said, “we do have excellent educational aids. He could learn. With the reprogramming they’re doing, his accent could be understood.”

  “I vote that he can go too,” Karla added.

  “Vote?” Jim exclaimed. “This isn’t a democracy, this is a dictatorship and I’m the head fascist pig.” Jim took a few paces around the room then looked back at Sam’s pleading face. “Oh shit. Ok, he can come along. I’m making a decision we’ll all regret, but what the hell.”

  Karla jumped to her feet. Grabbing Sam, she gave him a tight squeeze. “Welcome aboard, you’ll do just fine.”

  “Ah feels like a dancin’, where’s the music,” Sam said, tapping a foot on the floor and jigging back and forth holding on to Karla. “Care ta dance missy?”

  “I surely would sir.”

  “Computer thaing, music, somethin’ fast.”

  “Random choice,” Jim included.

  The household computer keyed on the words music, fast, and random and accommodated.

  * * *

  Jim looked down at his breakfast. It was one of Carol’s favorite dishes. She had suggested it that morning as it was the chef’s day off. The recipe wasn’t in their own food preparation unit so she downloaded it from her parents.

  His eyes then wandered to the dining room wall and a small battery powered clock. He had bought it for twenty five cents at a garage sale back on Earth, but here due to its rarity it was worth considerably more. Once during a social gathering at his home two business associates, both avid collectors of antiquities started a bidding war. Jim turned down the final bid, the equivalent to two hundred and eight thousand dollars. He really didn’t want to lose any of his old stuff. It was a comforting link to the past, even if it did cost only twenty five cents.

  “Dad,” Colin said, interrupting Jim’s thoughts. “Doran’s dad bought them one of those new corporeality rooms. Could Michael and me use some of the money we got for those commercials to buy one?”

  “You should’ve said Michael and I,” Jim retorted with a chuckle. “When your grades improve in English I’ll think about that. By the way, what’s a corporeality room?”

  “It’s like the 3V room only you can pick things up,” Colin said excitedly. “You know, like the holodeck on the Enterprise.”

  Jim looked up while searching his limited knowledge of current physics. “It actually creates matter in the room?”

  “No, we’re learning about them in general physics three. What you see is still a holograph, but when your hand touches it the computer sets up an electro excited field inside the image so the thing feels real. You can also walk through rooms and things. Your feet aren’t touching the ground, you stand on a thin field, so when you walk the whole thing moves and you stay still. That’s so you can go through a big place inside a small room.”

  “I’ve heard of those,” Carol said, pushing herself away from the table. “Most educational, you can walk through a museum or a wild life reserve. The advertisement on 3V said they were in the process of replicating your old house in Texas. I’d quite like to walk through it and see how all of you lived back then.”

  Jim frowned. “Ah, so that’s what Amy was talking about. She’s sending over a collection of small panels and asked me to feel them and tell her which one best approximated the texture of the interior walls of the house.”

  “Yeah dad, you can pick up a piece of bread and put it in the pop up toaster and it cooks. The only thing it hasn’t got is the smell, so when that
crappy old toaster of ours burns it you can’t smell the smoke.”

  “That toaster was all right,” Jim snapped. “I fixed it. It was just when you stuck too thick a slice of bread in it, it jammed up.”

  “Well, I told the man at the museum it burned the toast and he put it down in the description on the display’s information recording.”

  “I hope you didn’t tell him I fixed it first. People listening to that’d think I’m a klutz or something.”

  “No, but I did tell him that you fixed our old tape deck just before it ate one of my tapes.”

  “Ok, when you raise your English grade to six and Michael raises his math to the same we’ll get one of those rooms. That is, as long as you stop telling people what I fixed.”

  Jim was wealthy enough to buy a dozen such rooms from petty cash but he was afraid that his boys would turn into spoiled brats if he instantly bought what they wanted. So far, they seemed to accept the work for reward system.

  “Ok,” Colin jumped up from the table and heading for the door. “I’ll have the grade up within a week.”

  “Me too,” Michael said. “Them quadratic equations are tough but I can do it.”

  Jim raised his head. “Computer, transit will leave on Colin or Michael’s command, destination school. Once unloaded, it will return.”

  “Route logged in,” the computer replied.

  “Good heavens,” Jim said as he heard the boys leave through the front door. “Beyond elementary physics at eleven years old and advanced algebra at eight, how do they do it?”

  “I guess it’s the teaching methods,” Carol replied after a moment of thought. “It all seems so natural to me; I can’t imagine how it could be slower. You definitely picked their trouble subjects. Colin’s slow at English but loves physics. Michael’s doing very well at English. I think you have a writer or poet in the family.”

  “One would never know it. He never opens his mouth.”

  “Yes, but he listens and thinks. I’ve watched him. He’s the thinker and Colin’s the doer.”

  “So, the boys have gone to school. Sam and Karla are at Karla’s new place moving her in. What can we do alone in this big house?”

  “I can think of a few things,” Carol said, standing and walking toward the door. “How about giving me a twenty second head start and using the house computer to find me is cheating.”

  “One,” Jim said. Carol bolted out the door giggling. “two, three...”

  * * *

  Mr. Murchison, the head technician of the newly formed Allenby Corporeality company stood in the holographic living room of Jim’s old house. “The furniture of your place was easy, Mr. Young,” he said. “We could copy the actual items from your collection. It was the house itself that gave us a challenge. Your photographs could only take us so far. Shapes and colors were fine but the textures were hard.”

  “Looks good.” Jim said. “It just took a lot longer to invent the holodeck than we thought it would.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Personal joke.”

  “So this was your living room,” Carol said as she looked around judging distances. “It’s so small.”

  “Actually it was about average for the time,” Jim said. He leaned down and pushed on the backrest of the couch. There was a barely noticeable tingle to the tips of his fingers as it gave realistically under the pressure.”

  “Mr. Young,” Murchison said, leaning forward to catch Jim’s attention, “if you think of anything you can tell us for the commentary just let us know.”

  “Commentary?” Jim asked.

  “Yes, I’ll demonstrate,” Murchison pointed at a crystal object on the coffee table. “Identify.”

  “Ash tray,” a computer voice announced. “Receptacle for the burnt ash of an item known as a cigarette. Relatively common in the late twentieth century, a cigarette was composed of the dried leaf of...”

  “Stop,” Murchison commanded.

  “I see.”

  “I know what’d be best. Why don’t you take the lady around the house and explain things to her. We’ll listen in and that way we can gain the information we need and you two can have a pleasant stroll.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jim said, taking Carol by the arm and heading for his workshop through the backdoor.

  Carol stopped as she passed a back window. “What’re those small buildings on the other side of that fence?”

  Jim looked out toward the mobile home park in back of his rental. “They’re houses. Each one was a separate dwelling.”

  Carol’s hand shot to her mouth. “People lived in something that small?”

  “Yep, it seems primitive to me too, but compared to the life styles in less privileged countries they were quite spacious.”

  “Good heavens. I could possibly spend a week in something that size, but to have it as a home would send me into a claustrophobic fit.”

  “I’ve got an idea of what you mean. When I first moved into that house we live in now I felt a mild agoraphobia. It was too big for me then, but one gets used to things. The people...”

  A beeping from his jacket pocket interrupted Jim. He retrieved his pen phone and answered the call.

  “Jim here.”

  “Ah... Jim... Ah gots maself in a little trouble in this here store in the Mall,” Sam announced.

  “What trouble Sam?”

  “It all started when ah was a sittin’ in this here restin’ place, and ah was a talkin’ ta this here fellah. He says he had a case of gripe. Ah thought he was a hurtin’ so ah says...”

  “But gripe is a type of soft drink.”

  “Ah knows that now but ah told him ah would git somthin’ fer the pain. Ah went ta this here store and asked fer some laudanum. The storekeeper looked it up on one of them there computer thaings and...”

  “Sam, laudanum’s full of opium. It’s illegal.”

  “That’s what that there policeman said.”

  “Is that the problem? You’re under arrest?”

  “No, he saw me on that 3V thaing and knowed ah wasn’t from ‘round here. He thought it was funny. The trouble was in the other store. The one that sells them thaings fer love makin’. Ah picks up this here...”

  “Sam, stay where you are. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Chapter 3

  The newly married couple strolled through the crowded public area of the city’s spaceport. Their private shuttle sat on its launch ramp in the process of refueling. The quiet constitutional was due, in part, to a launch delay caused by a minor ramp malfunction. They also wished to make a few last minute purchases at the port’s shopping center.

  The rest of the team took a different route. A small service shuttle owned by the university took them to the Lydia, now in high orbit.

  The occasional passersby recognized Jim and smiled a friendly greeting. The novelty of his presence had decreased in the past months. No longer did crowds form inhibiting his passage when he took a walk into the popular sections of the city. This was most gratifying as he hated the restrictions of notoriety.

  The carpeted main area looked more like the lobby of an elegant hotel than an Old Earth airport. It was the planet’s showcase for new arrivals and a pleasant last memory for those departing. Numerous entrances led to display rooms supported by local corporations and civic organizations. They each demonstrated an aspect of the local products and attractions available to visitors.

  People walked with a relaxed unhurried gait that was typical of the time. Jim watched as a family waited at the entrance to a space shuttle boarding tube. They were obviously expecting someone from a liner in orbit above. At the next tube, a couple was saying goodbye. Jim watched as they parted and the woman walked past a smiling attendant then down the tube.

  A moving sidewalk connected the area they were in to the commercial section of the port. They stepped onto it and traveled toward a large corridor.

  “Congratulations on your marriage Jim,” said a man on the moving sidewalk goin
g in the opposite direction.

  “Thank you,” Jim said in return.

  He had never met the man before but was getting used to the friendliness of the people. It seemed quite normal to him now for strangers to strike up a conversation. Back on Earth, he’d have been worried about their intent.

  “Mr. Young?” inquired an articulate voice behind the couple as they stepped from the sidewalk.

  Jim and Carol turned to see the speaker, a tall blond man wearing a conservative but fashionable business suit. Jim knew it to be some sort of official introduction as he had repeatedly stated in front of the media that he preferred his first name. Only those in a commercial or service capacity used his family name.

  “Yes, can I help you?” Jim asked, not recognizing the smiling man.

  “May I have an interview? I am Randolph...”

  “No,” Carol said resolutely. “Jim, this is Randolph Weis. He’s a news reporter that, to use one of your terms, is a butt hole. Once you’ve given verbal permission for an interview you forfeit your rights under the privacy laws. He then tricks you into saying something embarrassing. You can do what you want, but I advise you to tell him to get lost.”

  Jim looked the man up and down before replying. “In that case sir, I’ll say no.”

  “Mr. Young,” the newsman pleaded, “the people would like to know about your wedding. I would be...”

  “Mr. Weis,” Carol interrupted, “you’ve already asked and been refused. Open your mouth again and you’ll be sued for harassment. From what I’ve heard, you cannot afford another suit.”

  The man paused for a moment with an expression of frustration. He then raised a hand stopping the first passer by. “Excuse me sir, do you know who they are?”

  The man looked at the couple then nodded.

  “Could I interview you and ask you what you see here?”

  “Excuse me sir,” Carol said, attracting the man’s attention. “We’d like to keep our privacy.”

  The man nodded a second time and returned his attention to the newsman. “Listen Weis, you aromatic hunk, would you just yack off.”