“How’s your thesis coming?” Cedric asks Pender, happy to step out of the limelight.
“It’s alright,” he answers with mediocre confidence.
“Did you meet Friday’s deadline?” Cedric asks.
“I did, but they butchered it,” Pender answers. “They picked it apart like chicken off the bone.”
“Did they accept it?” Cedric asks.
“They did, but after I spent another weekend revising it for them,” Pender answers. “They do such a good job of making you feel like you haven’t learned anything, just when you think you have.”
“I know, just hang in there,” Cedric tells him. “Mark my word. The day will come when you have forgotten about your draft outline. You will not have forgotten, however, about your doctorate.”
The two tap their coffee cups in a toast just before they take their first sips, which they do almost in unison when their conversation hits its first break. They take in a little silence.
Down the hall, a woman’s figure catches Cedric’s eye. It’s Nikki he sees in the distance; her legs, her back, her wavy hair. She walks closer. He stares. The closer she gets, the more she looks like Nikki. Cedric is hypnotically entranced by the slight sway in her hips. He starts to think that it’s really her.
She soon walks into the natural light of the lobby, however, looking nothing like Nikki. The mind can be so open to suggestion at times. For Cedric it was nice nevertheless, like another little dream or moment with Nikki; a break from the dark truth. Maybe that’s how the mind absorbs shock, he thinks, by allowing moments of denial into the psyche to cushion the blow or impact of shock or trauma.
Upon noticing the distant look in Cedric’s tired eyes, Pender is overcome with sympathy.
“I’m really sorry about Nikki,” he tells Cedric.
Cedric looks at him and nods his head, saying nothing but hiding nothing either. The look on his face really says it all. He’s sorry too. He excuses himself from the table and gets back onto the elevator, giving Pender a goodbye nod and wave as the doors shut.
Alone inside the elevator, Cedric presses the ground floor button and leans back against the wall as if he’s too weak to stand. His back begins sliding down the wall of the elevator. He covers his mouth as he breaks down into a moment of uncontrollable tears. He almost hits the floor but quickly stands back up, wipes the tears from his face and regains composure just as the elevator doors open. Still a little red eyed, he looks down as he exits on the ground floor. The few people waiting for the elevator don’t seem to notice him as he walks out of the building and onto the campus.
Moonliner 3:08
The day rolls into a late phase, toward the night. It’s been noticeably cooler, and an early sign of late summer. The air has lost its ocean scent and gained a crispness more commonly felt in September or October. The cooler weather came in with an overnight rain shower. It’s not uncommon, and there will likely be a lot of summer to follow, but it is a sure sign that it won’t last forever.
Over a day has passed since he has found the coin and Cedric still hasn’t lifted a finger to find out anything about it. It’s not that he doesn’t care; he’s thrilled to have found it. It’s that he cares too much. The coin, like the stone, means too much to him. He thus has to prepare mentally for any potential change in his perception of it. Until yesterday, the stone was all he had, or the only palpable thing to connect him to Nikki. That energy has now shifted into this little coin. For Cedric, the coin, if nothing else, is a symbol of lasting hope, and a hope he doesn’t want dashed.
To research it is to negate it, or to quantify the quality out of it. Just as he didn’t really want to look under the stone, he doesn’t want to know how the coin really ended up beneath it either. It takes the pie out of his sky.
With time, however, the rational side of Cedric gains control. He can’t skip through the meadows of his mind forever leaving simple questions about the coin unanswered, like who left it there? When? Why?
“Can you run a data base search on companies by the name NeoTech?” Cedric finally asks Phaedra.
“I’m showing twelve companies by the registered name of NeoTech throughout time,” Phaedra answers.
“Any based in Vancouver?” Cedric asks.
“None,” she answers.
Cedric holds the coin in his hand, examining it closely.
“Incoming call from Jonathan Archer,” Phaedra announces.
“Screen the message,” Cedric instructs her.
“Cedric, Jonathan Archer again,” the message plays; “I’d like to speak with you about some real opportunities as per our conversation today on the elevator and about the delays you’ve encountered with your doctoral thesis. It looks very likely that we may be able to assist you with resolving your distance issues if you’re still interested. Please give me a call when you get a chance. Thanks.”
“How about tradeshows?” Cedric asks Phaedra, ignoring Archer’s message and getting back to the coin.
“Showing one thirteen-year series of information technology tradeshows, held annually in mid-April under said name, each year in a different city throughout the world, starting in 2001 and terminating in 2014,” Phaedra replies.
“And let me guess,” Cedric says, “it was held in Vancouver in 2014.”
“That’s correct,” Phaedra answers.
Cedric is confused, overwhelmed with deja-vu again.
“I’ve been here,” he says, “this room, this coin, this time.”
“What do you mean?” Phaedra asks.
“Nothing,” Cedric responds, looking around the room in a daze; “and a doorbell,” he says.
Moments later the doorbell pongs.
“Lennox is at the door,” Phaedra says.
“I somehow knew that,” Cedric tells Phaedra. “Let him in.”
Lennox finds his way through the building’s common areas to Cedric’s apartment. Cedric greets him at the door and invites him in. Once inside, Lennox takes a good look around at the place. It’s dishevelled. The blinds are drawn, dishes fill the sink, and laundry clutters the floor. It’s not in too bad of shape, but well beneath Cedric’s typical standards, something Lennox can easily spot.
Lennox opens the blinds to Cedric’s balcony, then the door to let more air in.
“You’ve gotta let a little natural light in sometimes,” he tells Cedric. “Have you been drinking?” he then mildly asks. “I can smell alcohol.” Cedric doesn’t answer. “Are you doing alright?” Lennox asks him.
“I’m fine,” Cedric answers. “I’m getting through this just fine. It’s not as tough as you would imagine it to be,” he says; “but you go through tough moments.”
“I can imagine,” Lennox says.
“I have vivid dreams,” Cedric tells him; “sometimes recurring, or at least recurring themes. The awakenings are rude, but the dreams make them worth it. I get to be with her in them, even if for only moments.”
“I’m really sorry this happened,” Lennox tells Cedric.
“Let’s take a little walk,” Cedric suggests; “it has really cooled down outside. It feels good out.”
“Sounds good,” Lennox responds.
The two men step outside the building and saunter slowly beneath the elevated Skytrain track, casually talking as they walk.
“I’m going back to the moon on Thursday if you need me to send any messages for you,” he offers Cedric.
“Cool, thanks,” Cedric says. “I’m good, thanks.”
“You sure? It’s not a problem at all,” Lennox adds.
“Yeah, I don’t have any tests to conduct,” Cedric tells him. “The first ones failed to produce any results. Nothing from Nikki’s lunar transmissions came across my receiver. And frankly, I’m out of ideas,” he adds.
“That’s too bad. I was really looking forward to helping,” Lennox tells him.
Cedric isn’t telling Lennox everything. The fact that nothing came across his receiver is in itself an interesting result, give
n that it should have easily picked up the message Nikki transmitted, but didn’t. The message went somewhere though, or some time.
A train rapidly whisks by overhead, barely audible. Crows caw as a breeze bows the trees, all full of thick green leaves at the height of summer. A crow swoops down to pick up a brown paper bag from the top of the trash. He pulls it from the receptacle and onto the street before realizing it has too little food value to hassle with, then flies off.
“So what about the stone?” Lennox asks. “Did you get a chance to look under the stone?”
“Yeah, I looked.” Cedric answers; “there wasn’t really anything of any interest beneath it.”
“What do you mean by that?” Lennox asks; “if there was anything at all under the stone besides sheer earth, I would think it to be of interest,” he states. “Did you find anything at all?” he asks again.
“A metal coin,” Cedric answers. “I think it’s made of nickel.”
“A coin?” Lennox asks. “They’ve been out of circulation for decades. What year is it from?”
“It doesn’t have a year on it,” Cedric tells him. “It doesn’t look like money. It’s some kind of commemorative coin I think. It’s probably nothing.”
“I wouldn’t be too quick to dismiss it,” Lennox says. “What exactly does the coin have on it?” he asks.
“It’s marking ten years of NeoTech, which looks like may have been a tradeshow held here in 2014,” Cedric says.
“Wow,” Lennox answers. “Maybe it’s a reply to your transmission?”
“Highly unlikely,” Cedric answers with a chuckle.
“How can you be so sure?” Lennox answers.
“The stone did seem to be undisturbed,” Cedric says, adding to the mystery. “If someone from our present time heard the message and is trying to play along with what they see as a game, they’ve taken great measures to make the stone appear untouched.”
“So the coin is from the past?” Lennox asks to clarify.
“I think so,” Cedric answers; “but I seriously doubt it has anything to do with the transmissions. Remember, I had never looked under the stone before yesterday. Anything could have already been under there.”
“Bear in mind,” Lennox points out, “that you chose the stone for a reason; you felt that of identifiable locations, it was the least likely to have ever been disturbed. Why assume there’s no connection to the message?” he asks.
“Why conclude there is?” Cedric retorts; “why would anyone leave a coin as a message from the past?”
“It’s as good as anything I can think of to leave as a time capsule,” Lennox answers; “it’s metal. It’s engraved.”
“It doesn’t really say anything though,” Cedric points out. “Wouldn’t you want to leave a clear message instead of some vague, stupid coin?”
“Maybe the person who left it doesn’t really buy into this either,” Lennox speculates; “it is pretty far-fetched when you think about it,” he adds.
“Then why go to the trouble of leaving a coin at all?” Cedric asks.
“Maybe for the same reason you asked him or her too,” Lennox answers; “you asked in your message without believing anything would be under the stone, but felt compelled to do so just the same. And why? Because you want to be thorough. In the highly unlikely event that it’s true, you don’t want to be the missing link to what could be one of the most profound discoveries in history. Maybe this person feels the same; doubtful but reluctantly willing to go along so as not to be the one to break the chain of communication in the unlikely event that it is true? Maybe he or she simply doesn’t want to be the one to drop the ball.”
“Nice little speech,” Cedric says with a laugh; “but a little heavy on the maybes.”
“Well regardless of your doubt,” Lennox says, feeling equally skeptical but wanting to keep the mystery alive; “you’re not off the hook yet.”
“How do you figure?” Cedric asks.
“The coin at least obliges you to send a follow up message,” Lennox answers; “otherwise, you could be the missing link in the profound chain.”
“You’re worse than Nikki. Do you realize how ridiculous this all sounds?” Cedric asks.
“Yes,” Lennox answers; “sure.”
They walk slowly back to Cedric’s building, talking about how green the summer is, enjoying their walk. A mother skunk, followed by two her babies, waddles out of the end of a culvert that extends beneath the street. It disappears into some bushes beside a Skytrain pillar. The cool air is revitalizing the neighborhood from its heat exhaustion.
As they reach the building, Lennox decides not to go back inside, but instead to head home to make his dinner.
“You have to send another message,” Lennox tells Cedric; “you know that don’t you? The ball’s in your court on this one.”
“I know,” Cedric answers; “I will,” he adds. “I’ll beam it to you before you reach the moon. Remember, all you have to do is simply hit repeat once when you get it, but make sure you do so on Moondock; it needs to be routed through their transmitter. It’s time-delayed and ready,” he tells Lennox as he’s opening the door to his building.
“Easy enough,” Lennox answers. He gives Cedric a little wave to bid him a good night, then walks away.
Cedric sits alone in his apartment, again staring at the coin. He sets it down and smiles. At least it’s something to occupy his time and his mind. Nikki would have enjoyed this. He sees this as her last gift to him; a mindless little goose chase. Thinking to himself, he shakes his head in disbelief. If only he could tell her about the coin, show it to her, and get her take on it.
A cool breeze blows in from the balcony.
Moonliner 3:09
Lennox looks out of the window of his spacecraft as it orbits the moon. As usual, he has the privilege of traveling onboard an executive shuttle, thus bypassing Earthport. Executives dock on the lower ring of Moondock, typically the only place Lennox visits having little need for the more commercial main ring. The lower ring is reserved for government officials, business travellers, and VIPs.
Moondock is comprised of five tori, unlike Earthport which is comprised of only three.
“Approaching Moondock,” an onboard announcement says. “Prepare to dock in precisely ten minutes.”
Regardless how many times Lennox has visited the moon, each trip feels like the first. There’s always a new angle, a different crater or some new perspective. This trip is no exception. His craft glides above the vast Orientale Basin. He knows this from the digital readout built into his window, a feature common on executives.
Shadows accentuate distant crater walls. Lennox sees a flash from the surface of the moon. It’s hard to tell if it’s a light, or simply light bouncing off silicon and aluminum oxides on the moon’s surface. Then for the first time, Lennox sees a glow on the horizon. It almost looks like an aurora and is accompanied by rays of light illuminating upward from behind it. It’s a jaw dropping sight.
Subtle bursts of engine thrusts are heard as the craft makes minor orbital adjustments to ensure it is perfectly aligned for docking. The sounds are normal but can take you by surprise after long periods of silent space travel. They still make Lennox uneasy, as does docking in general.
A little digital blip sounds from Lennox’s pocket. He pulls his blue-beam device out and takes a close look at its screen.
“Incoming message from Cedric,” It reads.
“Just in time,” Lennox says to himself under his breath.
“1 message received with attachment,” the device flashes a few times before fading away.
Lennox looks back out of his window.
Moonliner 3:10
Cedric sits back in his apartment, looking at his blue-beam, which reads, “message sent.”
“Well that’s it,” Cedric says to himself; “that’s all I can do.” He pours himself a drink and sits on his sofa.
“Can I get some news?” he asks Phaedra.
“Watch
the Oval Report with Ryad Nighbar, Sunday nights at 9 PM Eastern on the Quasar Network – your choice for news and entertainment.
“Many residents are returning to their homes in and around Sacramento, where prolonged heavy storms caused a levee to rupture last week. Flood water levels have fallen drastically over the past 48 hours, but thousands of homes were damaged,” a woman reports over the airwaves; “residents in eighty-three percent of the flooded areas have been given approval to return to their homes, but a ban remains on the use of water until further notice. Dr. Olin J Whittington, head of Civil Engineering at California State University, Sacramento argues in today’s New York Times that rising sea levels have increased the stress on the levees, and that this is only the beginning.
“Can love be measured? Researchers at Harvard University not only argue that it can, but through the analysis of neuron activity in brain impulses are creating a way to do so. Their system, which they’ve termed the quantification code, effectively measures quantified variations in brain activity within individual subjects and can accurately discern for which person the subject harbors stronger feelings.”
The news continues but the clock on the wall has stopped. Cedric knows better, however; he knows time itself has stopped. Time is motion. Hence, to stop motion is to stop time. The clock signifies this and he somehow knows it.
As he sits quietly on the sofa, a fog crawls into the room, enshrouding the floor; he can’t even see his own feet. There’s a chill in the air and the room now feels dank.
Moonliner: No Stone Unturned Page 11
