While Bill and
Rob were gone, Cory and I worked on the Deere, just to get him familiar
with the diagnostic unit. He learned pretty quickly, but it was
obvious he wouldn’t be able to use it on his own for a long time.
I think he has a problem with spatial conceptualization, and can't
twist the readings from the unit in his mind to correspond to the
mechanical problem. I was gentle when I tried to tell him it
would take him some time to figure out, but he knew right away what I
was saying.
"I know I'm not
as 'telligent as some," he said in a soft voice, looking at me
with his big puppy dog eyes. "But I'll learn it, Graham,— I
will. I'm just not quick like Rob."
"Nothing to do
with intelligence, Son." I put my hand on his shoulder, to show
him I cared and wasn't just spouting words. "God gives out his
gifts to all his creatures in equal total, but the measures are
different for each of us. I ain't all that strong in the thinking
department, neither, but He gave me other things to make up for
it. I gotta' feel for what makes things work, like it was in my
fingertips, and I can add columns of numbers in my head, but I can't
read too good. Can't sing worth a damn, neither."
"You can't read?"
"Not really
good," I said. "The words sort a’ get mixed around into
nonsense unless I read them one at a time, so I read so slow it takes
an hour to get through a page, sometime."
"That has been
corrected," Groth said. Just to me.
"I know
that!" I said back without it being out loud. "He needs
buildin' up right now. I'm not going to see him hurting if I can
help it,— butt out."
"Will you help
me learn it?" Cory said. "I don't want to look bad for Rob."
"Of course,
Cory. You'll do fine. You just don't worry about it,"
I said, taking my hand from his shoulder. I had the insight,
finally. I can be pretty dense sometimes. "He means a lot
to you,— Rob does?" I turned back to the diagnostic unit.
"I,— we,— “
"S’okay,
Son." I said softly. "God didn't put us here to hate each
other. He put us here to love one another. Sometimes loving
someone society says we shouldn't. He decided whether you two
should love each other, not nobody else, and they ain't nobody else
gotta’ say in it."
"You knew?"
"Of
course," I lied,— but only a little, Lord, only to make it easier
for him, I swear. "H'it don't matter to me, none. Well,—
maybe, a little,— a guy who has a partner is generally more reliable
than one what don’t."
'He ain’t,— I
mean we really ain’t got that far. I mean,— not yet. Not
really partners,— not yet. I don't,— "
"Us,
neither," I said without thinking, without hesitating.
"You and Bill?"
"Yeah."
"But he's,— I
thought he was,— your son, or maybe your,— nephew or,— "
"He's my
man." I said so bluntly it made me cringe inside.
"Don't you worry
that maybe,— I mean, like your ages are so different, what would happen
to him when you,— uh,— "
"Die?"
"Well,— "
he stammered, "that, or get sick,— oh, hell, Graham,— I don't
know."
"God will decide
that. I only have one job to do. Make him happy for as long
as I can,— ‘til death do us part, if that's His will,— if He gives us
that long,— if Bill wants it and it leaves him feeling better for
having loved me then we're both the better for it. If we only had
tomorrow,— I'd still want to love him and him to love me."
I didn't want to
get involved in a long conversation about it. I wasn't completely
comfortable just spitting it out, and all, so I got back to instructing
him on the diagnostic unit, trying to keep things as simple as I could
without sounding like I was talking down to him. He seemed to
follow okay. I lost his attention entirely when he heard Rob's
truck coming up the approach road. It has a loose tailgate from when
Rob got hit by somebody last year. I have to remember to remind
Rob to solder the top bar of the frame bracket on the rear bumper
before we leave.
We ate
Charlene's hearty dinner like starved men, leaving nary a crumb, except
the broccoli. Bill and me ate more than our shares of it, but the
lads didn't touch it. Old habits die hard.
I told Rob and
Cory they could knock off at three while we were throwing the rubbish
into the plastic sacks. I told them we were making good progress
on the tractors. I expected them to be pleased, but of course, I
mistook them, still.
"We can help you
in the hangar, if you like," said Cory, after glancing at
Rob, "we know you're under a lot of pressure right now."
"I wouldn't
quite put it that way," I said, "we've got a lot to do, but
the garage will be up and running in another week or so. You lads
take a little time for yourselves, now. There'll be plenty of
work tomorrow." In a flash of insight, I recognized (or figured I
had) their worry. "Don't worry about the wages,— I'll punch you
out at five, like always."
"Thanks,
Graham," said Rob, "we're a little strapped, what with
saving up for,— well, what with having to save up."
It wasn't the
enthusiastic response I'd expected. I wondered what they were
saving up for, of course.
Bill went back
to the ship to learn more, and I worked with Rob and Cory until almost
three, then shooed them on home. It was a gorgeous day, and the
heat wasn't as intense as the weekend had been, so they could laze in
the sun for a while; or make love. I felt a twinge of envy they
could, but we couldn't. I didn't think it,— wrong to do.
We're glad to help, Groth.
As soon as they
left, laughing and waving at me as I watched them leave, I closed the
door tight and went into the ship, to the control room. Bill was
standing at the learning console, oblivious to my kiss on the back of
his neck, as he absorbed more information from the ship on hooking up
the control panels. Taking a pair of rods on the learning center
in my hands, I was soon doing the same, except I was concentrating more
on the inner neural circuitry links than the external connections.
"Enough for
now," said Groth, after I understood the method of fusing the
links with a tiny laser-guided,— an electron 'aser,' or e-laser, I
guess, tool,— focused to a tolerance of no more than half a
micron, mounted on a frame which attached onto an inside or outside
track of the outer ‘donut’ of the drive. I would only determine
when and where the fusing would be done, Groth would control the length
and intensity of the ‘burns.’ Fusing biochemical circuits is no
task for a living mechanic,— the tolerances are just too small.
Bill came off
his lessons at the same time as I did, and after a quick trip through
the optimizer emptied my bowels and my bladder, we donned the sterile
gloves and manhandled the third control panel into the drive, in really
good time,— no more than an hour. As before, we talked little,
the effort of moving and controlling the panel sapping our strength.
"Shall we do the
last one before we leave for supper?" I asked Bill.
"Might as
well," said Bill. "Groth, you all right with that?"
"Affirmative,"
said Groth, "It is now five-fifteen. You can be done by
six-thirty if there are no complication."
"You watched
'Forbidden Planet,' didn't you Robbie," said Bill playfully as we
went into the optimizer on our ship. "or was it 'The
Terminator,’ I can't tell?"
"I do not
understand the motivation for the question," said Groth.
"Nor the reason why you addressed me as 'Robbie,' unless to incite at
the comparison of myself to a theatrical stage prop rather badly
representing a mobility unit.'
"You talk like
Robbie." Bill said.
"I used the word
'affirmative' to ensure your understanding," said Groth.
"Did I detect a
very slight, almost defensive petulance there?" I asked, winking
at Bill as we lay on the ‘beds’ of the optimizer.
"There is
nothing about which to be defensive," Groth said.
"Try saying
'yes' on occasion," one of us said just before we drifted off.
"Yes, Masters."
He outgunned us
on that one, but we made our point.
We awoke a few
minutes later, laughing at his smart ass answer, refreshed and ready
for bear.
"I can't believe
we got your goat," said Bill as we donned the gloves, all ready
walking towards the fourth ship's stairway, where the last power panel
awaited us.
"You did not
'get my goat,' as you put it."
"Then why did
you use sardonic irony in answering our last question?" Bill asked.
"It seemed the
human response best suited to the situation," Groth said
aloud, "It is the response a subordinate would give to a
commander issuing simplistic orders."
"Only to one he
did not respect," I said.
"I see,"
said Groth, as we pulled the panel away from the stairway. "The
English language is more complex in its usage of terms than other
languages. The vocabulary is more convoluted. Push slightly
harder on the rear starboard, at the handle, please."
We lost our
train of thought in the mechanics of shifting the unit.
Halfway between
the two ships, things got complicated.
"Your employees
are returning," said Groth a loud, "They are forty-seven
meters from the shop door."
"Oh,
shit," I said, "We can't stop now! Groth, can you
cloak us?"
"Not while you
are wearing the gloves and you can not release the power panel until it
is inside the drive's sphere."
"What do we
do?" Bill called out to me. "I can stay with the unit,
while you head them off."
"No!" said
Groth. "Graham alone can not stop the panel before it collides
with the drive."
"Stop the
panel!" I hollered at Bill. "As soon as we do, I'll stop
them!"
We heaved
against the panel, gradually slowing it. My leg and thigh muscles
burned from the effort, my arms were on the verge of a cramping.
"Groth, where
are they?" I yelled. I didn't need to yell out loud, of
course, but it seemed to be the right thing to do. The panel was
moving too fast still, I could tell.
"Getting out of
their vehicle."
I hunched harder
against the handle, sweat pouring from me, my breath ragged. The
panel was moving slower. It was maybe ten, fifteen yards from the
drive.
"Bill, you got
it?"
"Yeah.
Go! Go!"
I let go of my
end and ran for the doors to the shop, barely able to get my breath.
"They are inside
the shop, at the hangar door," said Groth.
"Graham!
The gloves!"
Too late, I
realized I still had on the clean-environ gloves. I stopped and
tried to peel them off, but my perspiration made them stick to my body.
The door opened
before I got the first one off.
"We saw the
light and,— " Rob started to say, just as he saw me. Cory
stood slightly behind Rob, his eyes as wide as saucers.
"Oooh
shit!" Rob yelled, looking right at me. "Where's Graham?
Graham!" he yelled out. "Graham!" He was almost
screaming. Neither of them moved. Just stared at me, eyes
wide as dinner plates, mouths open.
"Right
here," I said as calmly as I could. The first glove came
off. I started to pull off the second.
"Where!"
Rob yelled, "Graham!" he called out.
"Here," I
said, as the glove passed my elbow. I could see the light around
me fading.
"Right
here! In front of you!" I said, laughing, as the glove came
off and the light haze around me collapsed completely. It
probably looked like I just ‘popped into existence.’
"Oooooh,
shit!" said Cory, "You're an alien!"
"No, I
ain't." I said, still calm despite myself, "I’s born,
raised and lived my sixty-five years right here on good old mother
Earth. I’m as human as you two are. I'm a mechanic,— a man,
same’s you. Lived in this damn town all my life."
"I saw
you!" Cory said, looking over my shoulder at Bill. He had a
dazed look on his face. "You're an,— ooooh, shit! Shit,
hell, damn, fuck! There’s another one!" Cory’s voice was on
the verge of hysteria.
"No," I
said, "that’s just Bill. They're just overalls. White
light overalls. We’re working in them, s’all. You two,— get a
grip."
"What is
that?" Rob said, gesturing at Bill and the panel.
"I just told
ju,’ it's Bill. He's wearing the same type of overalls.
We're trying to catch up."
"To who?"
said Rob. At least he wasn't shouting. Maybe,—
"We're
rebuilding an engine," I said calmly, turning to look at
Bill. I laughed to myself. Bill did look like your
everyday, garden variety, alien in bright white light, pushing against
a tall rectangular square of bright light,— looking like a
futuristic Rodin statue. "Our friends need our help. We're
helping them, but we’re behind schedule."
"I,— " Rob
started, then just stopped, his eyes getting even wider.
"Faced with the
choice of eliminating or converting." Groth said in a steely
voice. "I have immobilized them, and am explaining our position."
"NO!" I
yelled. "You will not harm them!"
"I would only
eliminate the memories. We do not exterminate."
"What's their,— "
"They are
frightened for themselves and for you. They are not,—
unfriendly. Return to the panel. Hurry!"
"Graham!"
yelled Bill. "I can't hold it! Too much for one,— "
I was already
running.
"The
gloves. On!" said Groth in my head, urgently.
I tried getting
them on as I ran, looking at the panel, moving inexorably towards the
drive, slowly but visibly. I had to stop, finally getting the
left one on.
"Do it
slowly," said Groth. "Stay calm. Help is possible."
"Rob!
Cory! Help us!" I shouted. Groth made me say
that. Not made. Asked me to. In a way I couldn't say 'no.'
A stairway
'materialized' next to me, it flowed out so fast it made me jump. I
never saw one from this side before. It was steep, almost
vertical. Something on it. No time to look. Oh shit, the
panel was only six feet from the drive. The right glove was
finally on. I ran like a demon. Bill was almost parallel to
the ground, pushing desperately at the gravity platform, his feet only
a foot from the drive.
I got to the
panel front, grabbing the side handle at the bottom, pulling back as
hard as I could, feeling the ground slip under my feet, pulling me,
showing no sign of slowing. I dug in, praying to God for help, my
back straining. I would be sore. I felt a muscle rip.
I laughingly wondered about workman’s compensation. You think of
the damndest things under stressful conditions. Suddenly, another pair
of legs in the clean-environ light running by me, to the other side,
grabbing the bottom handle on the other side. It was Cory,
popping out of the light as soon as he touched the handle. I
didn't have the extra energy to say anything, except ‘Pull!’
Groth told me to push a little more to the left. I felt the
pressure ease a little. Groth gave directions all the
while. I was drenched with sweat, it poured over my eyes, the
salt stinging. I heard the others breathing, panting, puffing,
grunting, wheezing from the effort. The panel slowed, slowed, and
finally stopped. Truth told, it started to move a little in the
opposite direction. I felt elated, like we had just won the World
Series and the Super Bowl, all at once.
"You can stop
for a minute." said Groth, aloud.
I stood, wiping
my face with the shoulder of my sleeve, my shirt already soaked.
I was heaving, trying to get my breath. The others, too.
"Did it!"
Cory said, standing, still holding onto the handle, his face flushed,
beaded with sweat. He let go of the handle and turned into an
alien, then grabbed back at the handle. His face registering
sudden surprise on top of the not-yet-faded grin of triumph.
"What is this
thing?" he yelled the first two words, just spoke the last, as he
half deafened himself in the silence.
"Bill,— you all
right? Rob?"
"Almost got
squashed like a bug, back here!" Bill said, not quite laughing.
"Thanks, Guys!"
"All okay,—
” said Rob.
"Let's guide
this into the slot. We'll explain it all in a minute," I
said. "Groth will help you know when to push and pull. Don't
worry about it. When you let go of the panel, it will be in the light
again. It's just a wrapper."
We worked it
together, and the drive reached out a little to incorporate the panel
in its clean-environ light. We got the panel into position in
just a few minutes. It was a lot easier than with two. It
went almost smoothly, but we were still whipped once it clicked into
place.
"You have done
well," said Groth, "all of you. I am grateful not to
have needed to destroy the panel to protect the drive."
"Who is
that?" Rob said, stepping back from the drive, no longer visible
in the Light.
"Rob!"
Cory said, lunging after him.
The two ‘aliens’
touched, stood back from one another, touched again, and repeated the
sequence.
"Cool!"
laughed Cory. "That’s so cool!"
"I am
Groth," said the figure who suddenly appeared behind them.
He was different from what I had seen at first. He looked more like,—
well,— he looked like a man I've never seen before.
"I appear to all
of you the same, now." Groth said in my head. "It is more
efficient to appear as a hybrid of all your acquaintances than as a
separate image to each of you."
We all turned to
him, moving together a little, as if for comfort.
"I will explain
briefly what we are doing," said Groth.
And he went
through a capsule of what happened, of the mission to gather our
history for preservation, the need to leave quickly, because they could
not reach their destination at all unless they departed within ten
days, at the most. The work Bill and I were doing, the ships.
"What
ships?" asked Cory, looking around the hangar. I realized
the lads hadn't yet seen the ships behind their cloak, only the light
of the drive, the probe, and the tools.
"You're going to
love this," said Bill. He was right next to me, peeling off
his gloves. Mine were already off. My shirt sleeves were
soaked.
"Please sit on
the hangar floor for a moment," said Groth. "I will show
them to you gradually."
"To soften the
blow," Groth said in my head. Bill grinned like a Cheshire
cat, so he heard that, too.
Groth 'turned
the ships off' to us as well, hiding them before he started his little
show.
There was
suddenly a shimmer in the air above us, just a little heat wave, that
gradually expanded, widened, took up the whole hangar above us, took on
substance, like a huge long transparent balloon, pinched at the center
where the two ships were joined, and gradually became opaque, then more
solid, and finally both ships came into view, ghostly at first, more
rapidly becoming solid, and then they were completely visible, hanging
twenty feet over our heads.
They didn't say
a word. They just held hands, watching, staring up at the huge
ship above, probably not even noticing the other ship, their faces like
kids under a Christmas tree, huge smiles replacing the tight-lipped
masks.
"Groth, you're a
show-off," Bill laughed.
"We need them to
adjust to the idea," said Groth, a little defensively, it seemed
to me. "If they agree to help, we can accomplish the repairs far
more quickly."
"Yes," I
said in my head, "they are good men."
"They are not as
potent as you or Bill," Groth told me, "nonetheless, you
are right. They feel much in their hearts for each other and for
you. They are not sure yet, if what I am showing, what I am
saying, is true."
"Let me talk to
them."
"Yes."
Bill and I
walked over to where Cory and Rob were sitting. They looked up at
us, then quickly rose to their feet.
"It's
real," said Cory, "Ain’t it?"
"Yes,"
Bill said. "we need to go inside to clean up."
"Into,— ?"
Rob said, looking up.
"Yes," I
said, "the ship will refresh us, clean us. It won't hurt us
at all."
"That's right,
isn't it Groth?" I thought.
"Yes, we will
make only minor adjustments. Their life spans will not be
adjusted, but their organisms will be optimized. They will feel
little, except the teeth will be replaced."
"Why always the
teeth?"
"Sugar, acid and
bacteria. You have not developed the correct hygienic tools as
yet." was the only response he gave me.
"Let's go
guys," I said. "I need to get out of these clothes."
Groth guided us to the bottom of the staircase, waiting for us.
Bill and I sort
of herded them to the staircase. It wasn't the one we usually
used. It was wider than before, to accommodate the four of
us. It didn't seem to be in the same place on the side of the
ship. When we went into the first chamber, the optimizer flared
briefly, so we had to close our eyes, but only for a moment. The
chamber was larger. There were four slabs instead of two.
No doors, no Groth behind us.
"Where's the
other guy?" Rob asked looking down behind us. Groth was no
longer there.
"He ain't a real
flesh and blood guy," Bill said, "he's sort of a hologram."
"What's
that?" Cory said.
"Like the
projection of the Princess from the little Robot in Star Wars," said
Bill, looking at me, "but not as visible between the projector and the
image."
"Oh," they
both said.
"We need to lay
down on these platforms for a minute," I said to them, "the
ship uses them to give us a rest."
"It won't do
anything?"
"Nothing you
won't like," Bill said as he lay on the platform closest at hand.
I laid down on
mine, watching out of the corner of my eye as Rob and Cory sat on the
two platforms I pointed them at, then laid themselves gingerly down.
We were all out
at once, and I woke a couple of minutes later, completely refreshed as
usual, my clothes clean and dry, no muscle ache, even in my back.
"You strained
two muscle groups, but they have been repaired," said Groth.
"Thanks,"
I muttered, as I watched the others get up.
"Wow!"
said Cory. "I feel like I just had a shower! Like I,—
" he walked over to Rob and held his man's hand in both of his.
"You still smell
good," Rob said quietly. He looked up at me and blushed. "I
mean, not bad,— I mean he don't,— "
"We know what
you meant," laughed Bill, kissing my shoulder.
Groth appeared
in a doorway behind Rob and Cary. He never used that side of the
chamber before. "There will be a surge of very bright light in a
moment. Please cover your eyes, and hold one another."
I needed no
excuse, and Bill either. I saw the lads look at us, a little
aghast, then they followed suit, almost tentatively. They looked
good, together. The optimizer light came on, bright as ever, and
I prepared myself for the sharp pains. For the first time, I felt
almost nothing, just a little twinge in my stomach somewhere.
"Just a small
adjustment in the abdominal wall," said Groth, "To help you
accommodate,— to adjust to your love-making."
“That meant,—”
"It is important
you feel no pain," Groth said, cutting me off, "Your
reconstruction requires more of his genetic material than you have as
yet ingested."
I didn't think
out loud my reaction to that. I felt Groth was getting a
little too involved in our love life. I don't think he noticed.
The light was
only on a few seconds. I wondered why it didn't remain on longer,
since there were more of us, and the lads had never been in it before.
"They are in
relatively good condition," Groth said, "Their life spans
have been extended somewhat by the repairs we have made, to about the
human optimum, but we will not need to rebuild their organisms
entirely. Several organs have been damaged, and they will be
replaced in the next few days if they stay with us. The older
one's heart is incorrectly grown, and the younger's pancreas is
atrophied."
"Let's go get
some supper," I said. "I've got chicken fixings, plenty of
vegetables, potatoes and iced tea. You can help me with a few
chores while Bill goes to his place and does his."
"But what
about,— " Rob looked at the ships as we went down the
staircase. "What about the repairs?"
"No questions
just yet," I said. "We need to sit down and talk it over
quiet-like, away from the ships."
"Ships?"
Cory said, looking around. "Oooooh,— shit!" came out after
he realized there was another ship besides ours. "Ooooh, shit!"
"Jesus, Mary and
Joseph," said Rob, in a sort of wheeze-whisper.
Groth turned off
the view in a split second, blowing them away again. Rob just
laughed, clapping on Cory's back, as Cory bubbled with pleasure.
I'm not sure if it was because he enjoyed the show, or Rob's
touch. No matter.
"I'm
starving," said Bill.
"Me, too!"
said Rob. "Let's go!"
It was like we
had an ordinary day, four guys at the garage, except the other two were
bubbling with comments on the events of the day. Things like ‘can
you believe how heavy that sucker was!’ and ‘damned gloves only had
three fingers,’ ‘almost pulled my back, thought I had, but it's okay.’
We locked up the
hangar, shut down the lights, and went out. Any time they started
asking, we stopped them, telling them we'd explain everything over
dinner. Once the doors were locked, the two of them jumped in
Rob's pickup and tailed the Jeep back to my place. We took the
back road, and I saw the dust of Gil Carver's tractor, as well as
Ted's. I wondered if he was having trouble keeping up with his
parcels. It ain't easy, even for a man as loving of the land as
Gil.
Once we got to
my place, Bill went to his place to do his chores, at least leaving me
a ten-dollar kiss to savor while he was gone. I fed the cat,
turned on the oven and got the vegetables and stuff ready for
supper. Rob and Cory pitched right in. I found the napkins,
the wash and wear ones, underneath the big platter when I got it out
from under the counter. I had to wash the damned thing,— it was
all dusty.
I called
Elva. Jerry wasn't home yet. We talked a little about the
fine weather, how my garage was shaping up, and all that. Then
the important stuff. Jerry was having some bad spells, she ask me
not to give him any more bourbon, he couldn't keep his breakfast down
in the mornings. He was only eating a little at dinner, managed
to get through some of his supper, but not too much.
"He's shrinking
inside, Graham," she said. "his clothes just hang on him,
more and more. I'm powerful worried he won’t make it to
Christmas, but — God, Graham,— I don't want him suffering no more."
"Now, Elva,—
take His gifts a day a time. Doc won't let him hurt. You
talk to him?
"We was there
yesterday. He gave me some morphine to give him if it gets any
worse."
"I'm stuck at
the garage a couple of days with some things, Elva. I'll try and
come by as soon as I get an hour free."
"He loves you
Graham, like you was his brother. He knows you got a powerful lot
of work, just now. You take care you don't run yore’self in ta’
the soil."
"I won't, Elva,—
I promise. Young Bill Taggert's helpin' me with things. Powerful
help. Good man, like his dad."
"Oh? I
wouldn't a thought,— well,— I'm glad you have help. Jerry would,
you know, but he's,— he's,—
She dissolved in
tears, and my heart ached for her. I felt so helpless, hanging on
the end of my old dial phone, holding the base and mouthpiece up to my
chest for a second to keep my voice from breaking.
"I'll come by,
Elva,— real soon."
"I know,"
she said. "I'm sorry, Graham, I,— "
"Now, Elva, you
got a right to let it go once in a while. You know I'm with you
on this. The Lord will watch over you."
"Thanks,
Grammie. I better go. Supper's a-fixing."
"Love you,
Sis. My love to Jer."
She hadn't
called me Grammie in years,— not since I married.
I stood in the
hall at the telephone table for a while, getting through the feelings.
It had been a
long while since I had other than Jerry and Elva to my table. They were
so precious to me. I should’ve treated them a little more like
honored guests than like casual visitors. Sometimes, we don't
appreciate how lucky we are to have people we love around us. Now
I had guest other than family at my table for the first time since my
Mary went, and I thought on how lucky I was, how more fortunate than so
many. Next time,—
I wanted them to
feel like I held them a little special at my table. Now was the
time to start. I hauled up another jug of cider from the cellar,
and when the lads came in, Rob gutted the hen and dug out the gland,
while we started to talk about Groth and the ships. Cory stuffed
the bird with celery and herbs from the little rock herb garden my Mary
first planted when we were just newlyweds, then trussed it while Rob
watched like a hawk. I don't think Rob knows much about cooking.
I just told them
about how I got myself fired that day last week (God! Is that all
it was?) by running after the ship, how I'd been met well by Groth, and
how he'd asked for my help to fix a little problem with a water filter.
I threw the hen
in the oven along with some scrubbed and pricked russets, and we went
out on the porch with four glasses and the jug to wait on Bill, all the
time talking through things.
I told them
'bout everything from then on, leastways as far as the ships was
concerned, right up to the time our ship came into the hangar. I
told a little fib about the drive. I said it was damaged by a
piece of interstellar gravel, traveling real fast, and said nothing
about the ship that was destroyed. I figured it might be hard for
them to understand a singularity or a black hole small as a pea.
I told them all the robots were destroyed in the collision. Not
all that much to tell, actually. They were full of questions, of
course, but at least they accepted they weren’t going to be molested,
there was no invasion underway, and I knew no more than I told them
about the mission. By the time Bill got back, I was tired of
being grilled, but at least the questions were moving from the ship to
other things.
"Groth, what
time do we need to be back to the ship?" I asked while Bill was
explaining how he and I knew each other. I was amused how he
skirted around the fact I went to school with his grandfathers.
He just said he'd known me as a kid, and I was already grown up.
"There are only
forty-seven control cards fully fabricated by the ship, with another
one hundred and three in various degrees of maturity, none ready for
installation until tomorrow at the earliest. The fourth ship has
thirty-three ready for installation, and eighty-seven more will be
ready by the time it leaves tomorrow night. I do not expect it
will take more than six hours to install all of the eighty cards now
ready, now that there are four of you. Midnight will be early enough,
if you wish to relax."
"Would it be
possible to come out right after dinner, then knock off when we're
done, come back here and get some real sleep?"
"It is not a
problem."
". . . so then I
said 'yes' to Groth, and we got started right away," said Bill,
his hands finally coming to rest. I swear the man is part
Italian. I love it when he talks to me in bed.
"What was the
panel we moved today?" asked Rob. Cory was kinda memorizing
Rob's face, “That thing weighed more than a slab of lead."
"A whole lot
more, you're right. It's super dense," Bill launched
in. "It's the last of the four main power panels we had to
replace. The rest of the panels are a lot smaller. They
only weigh about fifty pounds apiece. They're the controls for
the ship's main drive."
"Made of the
same stuff? Heavy and all?"
"No, they're
mostly light organic. Sort of like circuit boards, but with a lot
smaller chips."
"Are you guys
gonna live together?" Cory asked out of the blue as I got up to
get the vegetables into the microwave, the others following. We
could smell the chicken from the porch.
"We ain't got
that far yet," Bill said quietly, looking at me for some
reason. "But I think we don't have any choice."
"Mean you're not
gonna'? Keep things on the sly?" Rob said, almost as if he
wanted to hear a positive answer.
"Nope." I
said. "Means we ain’t gonna’ be able to live apart."
Bill looked at
me with an expression I couldn't quite make out. Not surprise as
much as relief, I think.
"We live
together now, but the neighbors are gonna’ talk after a while," Rob
said.
"Who you gonna’
live your life for?" said Bill. "Them? Or you?"
"Him,"
said Rob, real quiet. "I don't want Cory getting hurt by wagging
tongues."
"I ain't
complaining," Cory said. Not loud, but not soft.
"We ain't talked
much on it," Rob said.
"That's cause
you won't," Cory said, as he helped Bill set out the table. Rob
watched me carving the bird as the microwave worked its magic.
"It's not
easy," Rob said in a sighing voice.
"Why not?" I
asked Cory.
He looked up at
me, and I could see mist in his eyes. "I ain't,— I don't got,— I
don't know."
‘He's afraid it
won't last,’ I thought.
"His parents
were divorced when he was six," Groth told me. "his father
never came back to see him. His mother remarried, then divorced
again when he was thirteen; married again within a year, divorced two
years later. She's had four live-in boyfriends since."
Bill looked at
me. I knew he heard what Groth was saying, as well.
"I thought you
wouldn't tell a man's secrets to another man."
"The two of you
are no longer 'just another man,' as far as these two are concerned, or
any other man as far as I am concerned. As for secrets, I tell
you only facts, verified in your public records."
"You already
have our public records?"
"All of them
have been copied. They are in the ship’s memory, alongside the
biological data, which is backed up for the second ship."
"Not
yours? I mean,— not your own memory?"
"The ship memory
is a large filing cabinet, with 9.3 x 1038 gigabytes storage capacity,
more than adequate to store all information required, but with a slower
response time than my memory circuits, on a factor of about eighteen
thousand to one."
"But you got the
information in less than a second."
"Point zero two
seconds."
I had an idea of
what Groth was capable. Scary.
"How far do your
records go back?"
"Everything your
civilization has generated, whether on computer, microfilm, paper,
wood, stone or papyrus,— or for that matter, any other medium,
including radio and television. That has survived and been
maintained."
"Everything?"
"Yes."
"That must have
taken forever!"
"It is a fairly
large portion of the overall project, but by no means the
largest. It took this ship several decades, all told, assisted by
the others when physical proximity to the data sources was needed."
I was
stunned. They had been here for decades?
"How long have
you been here?"
"Sixty-three
years."
"What! Why
so long?"
"We were on our
way to another possible life bearing system when your planetary
gravitic well registered non-natural bursts of atomic fission. We
immediately diverted here, as short-duration fission is a definitive
sign of sentient behavior. Your race has a complexity that
provides much enrichment."
"And you've been
gathering information on us all that time?"
"Yes. It
was very slow at first. It was difficult to determine the best
method of data collection at first. The period when we arrived
was one of war, as well. We are not permitted to establish
official direct contact,— ours is not a diplomatic mission."
"How, then?"
"Many have
willingly helped us, misled only in thinking that we were gathering
information for a museum, or a private collection. In Germany,
there were many who wanted to preserve the records, especially when the
tides turned against Hitler. In Russia, it was often too late, as
many records were burned in the revolution. There is little in
Africa aside from some Ethiopian religious text and some wonderful art
work.
"Newspapers,
magazines, book and record companies deliver to any address; television
and radio, like print media, think nothing of exposing almost all
secrets of states or persons of repute, Credit bureaus, marketing,
governmental, telephone, industrial, business, data storage, as well as
personal computers are all totally transparent to sophisticated
interrogation. Many people gladly provide information in return
for payment, often for as little as a few tens, hundreds or thousands
of grams of gold, silver or copper. We did not in any way
interfere, but the invention of the telephone, facsimile machine,
copying machine, and internet have dramatically improved our data
collection abilities."
"You can hear
telephone conversations?"
"Every word ever
spoken is recorded in the data base."
All that in the
blink of an eye while I stood looking at Rob.
"You won't know
if you can make it last together until you both decide to start working
to make sure it does," Bill said. He gave Cory a bowl of
vegetables to carry out, and I handed the potatoes to Rob, while Bill
took the salad. Rob said not a word. He looked haunted.
I said
Grace. I don't remember what I said, but we held hands as I said
it. No mean feat, the dining table being so big and all, even with the
four leaves taken out. I looked into Bill's eyes as I said it, is
why I forgot. It's the first time we had company for dinner with
us. It felt nice,— almost family-like. I felt like an old
daddy for the rest of the meal while we worked gingerly around Rob's
fear of commitment, Cory's need for confirmation,— no easy feat.
We made a tiny bit of progress, but not as much as I would’ve liked.
Rob's a strong-willed sort of guy, hard to change. Cory's just as
bad, but more subtle about it.
We changed the
subject as we cleared the table of the bones and half the
broccoli (Bill and I love it, the lads hate it) We even
managed to talk a little about farming, after things were loaded in the
dishwasher, as we ate lemon ice and home-canned peaches from
Elva. Rob was keen to have his own farm, and Cory has farming in
his blood. That's what they were saving for,— enough money to
sharecrop for a couple of years, save some more, then buy a place
outright, or— at least enough to put a payment down and carry a big
mortgage, like everyone else.
I told them that
sounded like a pretty big commitment they made to each other already,
what the heck was the problem in just coming out and saying so to each
other. Rob was biting his lip, trying to screw up the words he
wanted to say but couldn't find, I guess.
"Rob don't want
nobody thinking on him as being weak," Cory said. "He's
strong as any two regular guys, but he can't let nobody think on him as
being that way,— you know,— being gay, I mean."
"That ain't it
at all, Cory!" Rob spat out, red with frustration, startling
everybody but me. I seen men go over the edge before.
Sometimes for the good, sometimes for the bad, but at least it
generally clears up a lotta’ questions. "I don't wanna' end up
like my mom, going from one father, husband, to another, all the rest
of my life!"
"Why would
you?" asked Bill.
"Gay guys don't
stay together," Rob was almost on the verge of tears out of
frustration, "They do for a while, then they all just get up and
go on to the next piece of meat! I seen it!"
"True for
some," Bill said, "Not for others."
"But why?"
"Gay
relationships are too easy to get into," Bill said. "Guys
meet, have sex, think they have a lot in common, move in together,
decide they can't stand the way the other person holds his knife or
fork, and bail. All in the time most straight couples are still
debating about whether or not to have sex with the other person.
If they're seriously thinking along the lines of marriage, I mean."
This out of the
man I love whose never had a gay relationship before in his life?
"That's
psycho-babble," Rob shot back, not that convincingly, in my mind.
"How long you
two known each other?" I asked Cory. Not Rob.
"Two
years," Cory said. "My dad used Sweeney's all the
time. I was there with him when I saw Rob for the first
time. I asked him to show me where the outhouse was. He,—
he was so good-looking, I couldn't breathe. I had to concentrate
just to pee. He waited on me outside. He didn't try nothing
at all, but I knew he sort a’ took a little long looking at me.
He come out to the farm to do the harvester, and I helped. I
probably got in the way more than anything else, but he never paid no
mind. He took time to explain to me what he was doing and
why. I liked him more than anybody, just after the first time I
met him. It just got stronger. I started to
find 'scuses ta’ go in to town, just happening to stop by Sweeney's for
one thing or another, always lookin' for him, not nothin' else,
really. He took forever to ask me if I wanted to go to a movie
with him. I was about ready to ask him out myself, by then.
I asked if I could stay at his place after the movie, so we could maybe
have a beer after. After I moved out of mom and dad's place last
Fall, he said I could room with him for a while."
"You in love
with him?" Bill asked.
"Yeah." he
sort of blushed, looking up at Rob.
"Now, how in
hell do you know that?" said Rob, "How can you always be so
damned sure of things?"
The voice was
strong, but the eyes weren't. Neither was his lip.
"Just am,"
Cory said, "God made me that way. I see you, I don't see
nobody else. I dream about you, if’n I’m asleep or awake. I
look up at you when we,— when we're together. I pray to God I'm
good enough for you. I want to be good for you. I wonder if
I'll be good enough for you the next time. I wish I could make
you happy, not just feel good down there. When I'm beside you, I
feel like we could beat the world together. You make me feel
strong. I wish there was something I could find that would really
bring you happkiness,— even if,— even if it ain't with me."
That was it for
me. I had to get out of there before I hauled back and pounded
Rob on the head to wake him up. He had an absolutely wonderful,
and handsome guy, head over heels in love with him, for well over a
year. Here he is with someone who wants to save up to buy a farm
together because they both love the land, farming, gardening, country,
each other, and he's so thick he can't feel the heat of a blowtorch on
his heart. He's sitting there, scared to death Bill will tell
Cary he got a little relief a long while back from Rob's mouth up at
the rest stop,— scared he's gonna lose the best thing what ever
happened to him. Why don't he just come out and say it. No
prize for pinning the tail on the jackass at this party!
I made some
noise about coffee, and took a few things to the kitchen, closed the
doors, ground up some beans, started the coffee machine, wiped the
counter, put a cup in the dishwasher. There was loud voices on
the other side of the door for a minute. It sounded like
Rob. Before I ran out of excuses not to go back into the dining
room, Bill came out with a big shit-eating grin on his face, closing
the doors behind him. There were stars in his eyes where too much
water was gathered.
"They're
practically ready to book the church. Kiss me."
So I did.
We almost swallowed ourselves whole. Bill can be damned
persuasive.
"What was the
problem?"
"Rob don't trust
himself."
"How so?"
"He says he's
had sex with a lot of guys, a few girls. He liked it all.
He’s afraid he’ll get the urge to do it again, and hurt Cory."
"And?"
"Cory said if
that's what he needs to make him happy, then Cory could handle letting
him do it and Rob just blew up. Said he didn't want it that way.
He wanted Cory to put his foot down, tell him he couldn't be that way,
tell him he was too important to Cory to share with nobody else, tell
him he'd beat the shit outta’ him if he never caught him wasting his
sex and his love on somebody else."
"So?"
"Cory said he
would."
"What?"
"Beat the shit
out of him if he ever betrayed his word."
We stood
together in the kitchen, holding, kissing, for maybe ten minutes, then
Bill tapped on the doors to the dining room and called out we were
going to leave in a few minutes, could they bring in the rest of the
plates and things.
A few minutes
later, two hunks with red eyes came through the doors with a few dishes
and some silver, and it got loaded in while I poured coffee.
We headed on out
to the hangar around eight something, drinking mugs of hot coffee, with
them following us. Cory sat close to Rob as he drove, and I saw
in my rear view mirror a couple of quick pecks as they went. When
I was occupied opening the gate, Bill says they got their tongues all
twisted up, and I saw it for myself when we got down off the Jeep and
walked to the shop door. They took their time finding the door
handles. Not lip-locked though. Talking to each other in between
dives. Good sign, I figure.
Groth let us all
get inside before he uncloaked the ships in half the blink of an
eye. Both of the lads just sucked wind until they got used to it.
"It's so
beautiful," said Cory. "It's a dream made real."
The outer
‘donut’ of the drive was lowered,— but not to the ground. Some of
the cards had to be installed from the inside, so there was a five foot
gap between it and the floor. The central unit was no longer on
the hangar floor, and the grav platform had done some evolving.
There was a pie-wedge space for us to walk the cards through, and the
center of the donut was completely open, so we could install the cards
that inserted from the inside.
The center of
the donut was back up inside the ship in its normal position. I
looked up at it, some forty feet from the floor. There were
thousands of tiny flickerings on all the visible surfaces,— not quite
light. Something mesmerizing.
"The
installation was successful," Groth said aloud, interrupting my
concentration, breaking the spell. "All power circuits are at
optimum." The flickering stopped. "The effects you notice
are the contact points for the control panels on the inner side of the
control ring of the drive."
"But there are
millions of them!" I said.
"No. Only
seven hundred twenty-one thousand three hundred six."
"Oh,— is that
all," I know it was my smart mouth said it. "Piece of cake."
"I do not
understand the colloquialism."
"Means it's
easy."
"Only for a
mechanic," Groth said back to me.
He either missed
the sarcasm entirely, had a lot more faith in me than was warranted, or
was being sardonic. I didn't think that out loud. He
apparently didn't hear me as he continued.
"The eight
hundred forty-two control units we are replacing represent
approximately two point three eight percent of all control units, but
there are only five thousand seven hundred sixty-one contact points for
the replacement units, as only the inner cards of the control ring make
direct link to the drive core, and there are more contact points in the
upper units,— the converter units,— than in the lower, field control
units. Of the inner three thousand-six units, one hundred
forty-seven were damaged by the impact and have to be replaced.
All are in the lower bank of the ring. There is one upper-tier
panel on the outer ring which needs replacement for reasons unrelated
to the impact."
I looked through
my memory for the path of the singularity (what Groth had at first
termed the ‘black diamond’ because I didn't yet understand anything at
all about quantum physics, and so could not conceive of a black hole
smaller than a BB, traveling at nearly the speed of light.)
It entered the
ship from just off the vertical on a slightly off-center slant, passing
through the drive about three feet off center, just winging four of the
thirteen power modules surrounding the core. Three feet to the
left, and the drive core would have been holed. The ship a new
singularity, the size of an atom. Which, of course, is what
happened to the doomed companion ship, about to ‘dock’ to our ship from
underneath, lined up perfectly for the singularity to go right through
that ship's drive core.
"I thought the
singularity passed through the drive on the vertical."
"The drive was
stored in its normal operating position, the center on the main axis of
the ship. It is moved forward and into the horizontal position
for maintenance."
"How much does
the drive weigh?"
"Seven million,
four hundred thousand, six hundred seventeen metric tons."
"How much is
that in American?"
"A little more
than sixteen and a quarter billion pounds, or eight point one four
million tons."
Yet, the ship
moved through the air with the grace of a feather. They moved the
drive around like a Chinese checker.
"Why doesn't it
crack the concrete floor?"
"The gravitic
force is not surface-dependent. All matter within several hundred
kilometers impacts the position of the ship while it is on low power
setting. On full-power setting, all matter exercising gravitic
draw has an impact, irrespective of distance. The platform is
less penetrating, having a range of only ten or twelve kilometers."
There was no
damage to the top inner or outer tier of control units, only to the
lower tier, but because the path was off center, a lot of the lower
units were holed. In the outer rings of units, none of the upper tier
panels had been damaged, as the singularity was only very slightly off
the ‘horizontal’ of the ship, gradually rising as it went through the
ship, but not enough to notice.
That reminded
me. "Where is the other singularity? The other ship that
was destroyed?"
"I accelerated
it out of the ecliptic towards the core, so it can do no further
damage."
"And the first
one?"
"Is far beyond
the gravity well of the Sun, and is headed out of the ecliptic in the
general direction of what you term M358, another spiral galaxy several
hundred million light years distant."
"Oh."
"Ready,
Guys?" Bill's voice pulled me out of my reverie. I guess me
and Groth had somehow slipped into thinking instead of talking.
Bill got us
organized. He and I showed the lads where the second ship would
have the boards waiting for them, how they were to be handled.
Bill would guide them into their slots as Groth identified them, and I
would handle the soldering frame, first on the inside of the donut,
then the outside.
The inner ring
was the trickiest,— we had a lot less workspace between units.
They're only something like a centimeter thick, separated by just half
that. Fortunately, most of the neural soldering to be done was
from edge to edge, although a few hundred were three or four
millimeters from the lips that would slot into the power points on the
inner ring.
We donned our
gloves and got to work. We all carried two of the units apiece,
and slotted them into the places Groth indicated with a laser from
inside the ship, snaking down on a cable to hover just over our
heads. It took me three minutes to line up the first series of
soldering points with the lasers, but each time it got better. By
the time we ran out of inner units to install, I was down to no more
than a few seconds per setup, five or six minutes per unit. I was
still behind the pace, and had four to do when they started on the
outer ring. Just as well,— they got in the way every time they
put in a new unit.
At one point,
when we were getting close to the end, I actually got caught up, and
watched Rob and Cory walk over to the second ship for the next two
units. It was like watching two fluorescent dancers, walking
side-by-side in the dark fog under a spotlight, like one of those
French Impressionist pictures,— Degas, I think,— had come to life.
Thank goodness
most all the cards were on the lower tier. Working in the upper
tier (there was only the one to be done) meant scrambling up a ‘ladder’
made by the grav platform, reversing the soldering frame, and
manhandling the cards into place. It was a royal pain. Once
I finished the last ‘inside’ unit, Groth moved the donut down closer to
the floor, which helped a lot for the ‘outside’ units.
"Next time,
build the drive with an eye to maintenance," I grumbled when I
skinned my knuckle on the drive while re-jigging the little frame from
a top unit on the inside.
"This is the
last in the series," Groth said. "I do not believe there is
a replacement; however, your suggestion is a good one, and has been
noted."
Sounds like a
damned computer again, I thought under my breath? thoughts?
I don't know where those thoughts are, the ones that I keep to myself.
"I can not read
the thought you apparently just had." said Groth.
"Not meant to."
"I mean, I am
not capable of penetrating your blockage," he went on.
"So? I
want some things just for me." I thought in a bit of a huff.
"That is new."
"So?"
"You have
exceeded expectations."
"I'm full of
surprises."
"Yes, you are."
And then there
were none left. We installed all eighty units, and as I finished
the soldering with Groth, the others watched, peeling off their
gloves. They made your arms feel like they're in a sauna.
They men were fascinated by the tiny bursts of energy from the guidance
lasers, not knowing the actual soldering was being done at a molecular
level, invisibly. We'd done it all in just four hours. It was
only three quarters past midnight, a quarter to one. I ached from
stooping, stretching, pushing, pulling. Groth sent us all to the
optimizer, but only gave us six hours' sleep, so we would get a little
natural sleep, too. I felt a few pretty heavy twinges as we went
through the optimizer's light after sleeping. I asked Groth why.
"There are
significant anatomical changes being made, prior to the cell component,
the DNA and RNA replacement. You have a number of errors in your
body provoked by environmental conditions. These are being
gradually repaired, so you do not experience excessive
discomfort. Repairs have been made on a priority basis for life
threatening conditions, we are now addressing the more cosmetic ones."
"Such as?"
I had to
ask. When will I learn?
None of my
bones,— none of our bones,— are the same. The calcium carbonates
have been partially replaced with a metallic/organic alloys that are
somewhat stronger, lighter and definitely less fragile. Our teeth
are still alive, but their composition is a metallic/carbon compound
which will not wear out for quite a long time, and is not subject to
acidic bacterial attack. The spinal cord is being re-woven,
eliminating several kinks, and the cartilage in the lower spine is
being restored to the thickness specified in the complete genetic code,
unaffected by some rogue gene that appeared in the human species
sometime in the dawn of man. The cochleas (cochleae?) in my ears
are being reconstructed. The fluid in our eyes is being
replaced. There was a lot more, but I stopped him.
"Am I becoming a
machine?"
"No. There
can be no such thing, it is forbidden. Only improvements which do
not impact the persona or reproduction of the entity are authorized."
"You mean, if my
children,— if I have children,— they would have metal alloy bones?"
"Your genetic
code will be so altered."
"Why?"
"To preserve the
species."
I said
nothing. I had no intention of,—
He came back on
line to us all:
"The ships will
have one hundred thirty-three more remaining units ready for
installation tomorrow. The first units will not be ready until
after your normal working day begins, and the last will be ready before
you leave for the day."
"Can you
increase the manufacturing rate?" asked Bill as we walked through
the hangar. "We can install more than that in just a single
shift."
"The units are
grown in incubators. The process can not be speeded."
"Like
babies?" asked Rob.
"Somewhat,"
came the response. "The control units are not biologically alive,
but use biological processes to function, and thus the cell structure
needs to be grown rather than built, so as to have the correct
circulatory and sensory systems, with appropriate response
characteristics."
"Why can't you
grow all the units in the ship?" Bill asked.
"The genetic
material and instructional matrixes are not contained completely on all
ships, nor all on one or two, but at least two sevenths on all but this
ship, which carries only one tenth. Four other ships carry the
power board matrices, to ensure redundancy."
When we got to
the shop doors, we turned to watch the ship blink out, but Groth had
other ideas. He made the ship fade out slowly, wavering a little
in its gradual transparency, finally just a heat wave in the air, then
nothing. I had to admit, it was impressive. Rob and Cory
were spellbound again, like kids must look when they see Disneyland for
the first time. Bill and I held hands, like kids as well, I
guess. I felt a little sleepy.
As we were
closing up the shop, I wasn't thinking so much of sleep, and of what
we,— Bill and me,— might do before drifting off.
"High time you
gave him your virginity," I said to myself, looking at that
beautiful face, the man I loved, as we said good-night to Rob and
Cory. That felt incredibly weird,— still a virgin at sixty-five,—
and I was about to lose it at the age of twenty-something, all the same.
Rob and Cory
sped off towards the front gate, and the way they looked at each other
said there was darned little sleep planned for their immediate
future. My butt hole tingled,— even before we jumped into
Jeep. I wondered again if it would hurt a lot. Not that it
mattered,— what mattered was whether he found it half as worthwhile as
what I found with him the night before. I said a prayer to Him,
and proceeded to start getting nervous about whether or not I would be
able to please him.
When I got out
to lock the front gate, I had a fleeting thought, just a silly little
question. Why hadn't they immediately started all the units on
the other ships, then transferred them here all in one go for
completion of the growing? I'd have to discuss it with Groth in the
morning. Right now, we had more important things to do.