Ephemeral: Chapter 16

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Clara came to slowly. When she opened her eyes, Elpis light beamed through an open window at a golden slant. She was lying on the living room couch with Mother Alden sitting on across from her. Everyone else had gone.

“Whew!” Mother Alden exhaled. “You're back! You've been out for some time!”

Clara groaned and tried to sit up.

“Careful! You've had another shock.”

Clara felt like an octopus left out on the sand. She peeled herself off the sofa cushions and – with great effort – assumed an upright position. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly to steady the faint wooziness which still lingered. “Did I pass out?”

“Aaric caught you before you hit the hardwood.”

“My head hurts.” Clara massaged her forehead with her hand.

“I'll make some tea.” Mother Alden hoisted herself up from the couch with an involuntary grunt and headed for the kitchen. After she filled the kettle, Clara raised her eyes.

“So that small boy really was Henry – the same baby from earlier?” Clara asked.

“It was.”

“And time really is ...” Clara's eyes glistened. “... accelerated here?”

“It is compared to Earth.” Mother Alden put the kettle on the burner. “Like I was trying to explain in the marketplace, our planet is like a desert flower which blooms after a rain. Everything here develops more quickly.”

Clara felt frightened to ask her next question, but she had to know. She clasped her hands on her lap, “Do you know what the time difference between here and Earth is?”

“Roughly,” Mother Alden said. “Granted, it's not a perfect ratio. And not every system seems to follow it. For example, people don't have to eat constantly to avoid starvation or shave full beards every other degree. And thankfully, women don't have multiple menstrual cycles between one Elpis-rising to the next. That would be tedious.”

“So what's the approximate ratio of Elpis 7 time to Earth time?”

Mother Alden sighed. “For every Elpis rising-to-setting here, you will age about three hundred and sixty Earth rotations.”

Clara gasped. “You mean one day here equals about one year back home?!”

Mother Alden shook her head. “No, the number of days on both planets is the same; you will just age faster here. In other words, by the end of your internship everyone back on Earth will have only aged forty days while you will have aged about forty years.”

Clara sat motionless as though someone had knocked the wind out of her.

“That's why everyone here thought your internship seemed so long,” Mother Alden continued. “For us, forty years is nearly half a lifetime.”

“But forty years is almost more than my lifetime!” Clara's eyes stung. “You're saying I'll be sixty-four by the time the shuttle picks us up!? I can't be sixty-four! That's way beyond the age of Passing!” Hot tears streamed down Clara's flushed cheeks, unnoticed. “What am I going to do?! I don't want to end up like Granna Kate! And what about my family?! I promised Sydney I'd come back ...” Clara threw herself back onto the sofa, clutched a throw pillow as if it were a life ring, and wept shoulder-shaking, heart-breaking sobs. Regret flooded through her like a torrent of icy water. Why did I come to this cursed planet! My life is over!

Mother Alden wiped her own eyes as she watched the young woman weep in despair. She took the kettle from the burner to reheat later and slipped out the back door to let Clara grieve in private.

Clara's shoulders shook percussively as she clutched the throw pillow to her face to muffle her sobs. Surely there was some misunderstanding! Something lost in translation! But the sinking feeling of finality slowly settled upon the young intern like a dark cloud shrouding all bright possibility of denial. She was a social scientist by training and could not ignore the fact that the narrative fit the evidence. Nine months on Earth was about 270 years on Elpis 7 – plenty of time to establish multiple tribes with their cultural rhythms.

By the time the shadows lengthened, Clara lifted her pink face from the pillow and sniffed. She felt hollow, exhausted, and utterly bereft. But she couldn't lay on the couch forever. Slowly, she raised herself to her feet and trudged to the restroom to wash her face. When she spied another gray hair on her left temple, she didn't yank it out. Why bother? By the time the shuttle gets here, I'll be all gray. Sydney won't even recognize me … if I even get to see her. Her gut tightened. I wonder what the V. C. will do with us …

Clara hid her face in a yellow hand towel and zombied to the kitchen. Birds twittered outside the window, but their melodies made Clara's headache worse. Tea. She set the kettle back onto the burner. Exhausted even by that simple effort, she returned to the sofa and shut her eyes. Maybe this is just another nightmare ...

By the time the kettle whistled, Clara knew she wasn't dreaming and therefore could not awake.

Mother Alden returned through the back door from her afternoon chores. She removed the singing kettle from the burner and started dancing about the kitchen to gather tea accouterments while Clara sat on the couch in silence. Soon, Mother Alden wheeled the tea cart out to the living room. She poured two steaming cups and handed one to Clara. “Or would you prefer wine, perhaps?” she asked.

Clara shook her head. “Tea is fine.” She wrapped her fingers around the warm cup and held it to her forehead.

Mother Alden sat down on the opposite side of the couch and sipped her own tea. “I took the liberty of adding a mild pain killer to yours. It should help with your head.”

“Thanks.” Clara let out a long breath.

For several minutes, the two women sat quietly, draining their cups dry. Mother Alden took the tea cozy off the pot and started pouring a second round. “Is your headache better?”

“Much,” Clara said. She waited for Mother Alden to finish pouring before asking, “Why weren't we told about the time difference on Elpis 7? If we'd known about it, we wouldn't have come.”

Mother Alden replaced the tea cozy. “The wormhole you arrived through is the first one we've had since the original colonists landed. They were just as shocked as you are to find out about the accelerated aging.”

“Speaking of the original colonists,” Clara said, “if one day here equals one year on Earth age-wise ...”

“Roughly,” Mother Alden qualified.

“Roughly. Then how is Captain Karnak still here, young as ever? I presume the other thirty-nine have already passed – er, transitioned?”

“Long ago,” Mother Alden said. “But before I answer that question, I should probably show you something.” She set her teacup on the cart, stood to her feet, and went around the room drawing the curtains. This took a few minutes as she had several windows. Once she'd established a level of security, she walked toward a bookshelf mounted on the wall.

To Clara's surprise, she ignored the embossed hardback volumes and swung the shelf with its supporting sheet rock outward like a door. Between the insulation and wall studs sat a hidden shelf with what looked like a black fireproof safe. Mother Alden drew this out and set it on the ivory-colored coffee table. “This is a documented history of the Elpis 7 colony. His Eminence would not approve of me digging this out of moth balls, but his jurisdiction does not extend beyond Silex borders – despite his spy drones. And as you're going to be here a while ...” she looked at Clara apologetically, “you have a right to know the truth.”

Clara eyed the black box curiously.

“Open it. I never keep it locked – just concealed.”

Clara put down her tea and obeyed. She pulled out several 8 x 10 black and white photos – ugly photos of emaciated people with shaved heads and ragged striped prison clothes. People carrying boulders on their gaunt shoulders. People sorting through piles of shoes and discarded glasses. People standing in long factory rows operating various machinery – the personification of toil and despair. Some looked so skinny, Clara could count their ribs. She thought she'd seen such photos in her Pre -V. C. history classes. She'd tried to forget them. But some things time cannot erase; some things sear the conscience forever.

Clara turned to Mother Alden with a raised eyebrow. “Why do you have photos of the second world war's Holocaust?”

“Those photos aren't from Earth's second world war.” Mother Alden said. “Look again. What do all the people have in common?”

“They look miserable!”

“Besides that.”

Clara studied the photos more closely. “They all look about the same age?”

Mother Alden nodded. “Specifically, they are all age forty-eight.”

“Forty-eight?!” Clara did not know it was possible for her to be shocked by anything else, but something deep in her core went cold. “What are you telling me, Mother Alden?”

The older woman took a deep breath and set a hand on Clara's shoulder. “These are photos taken in a Passing Camp – one of many sponsored by the Vitae Conglomerate.”

“Passing camp?! What's a Passing camp? I've never heard of one!”

“That's because the Vitae Conglomerate didn't want you to. But the reality is those who pass don't go to some sanitized quick-and-easy end. They're packed into trucks and taken to these camps where they work for the V. C. until they drop dead.”

“WHAT?!” Clara nearly shouted. “No! The nearly-departed receive a painless injection! The whole point of the Rite of Passing is to prevent suffering!”

“Maybe that's how it started, but things changed. After all, most healthy people will live twenty or thirty years past forty-eight if given the chance. Why not capitalize on a whole generation's worth of free labor? No one would go looking for these people because they've already exited society. And no government would turn down the opportunity to produce cheap goods for zero pay. If you don't believe me, look at the date on that wall calendar.”

Clara's hand trembled as she brought a photo closer to her face. She gasped; the year was clearly marked 2086 – merely three years after the V. C. established the Rite. She tried to speak, but no words came.

Mother Alden pointed to the other pictures. “One of the original Elpis 7 colonists discovered what was going on. He convinced thirty-nine others to escape Earth to a new colony as soon as one became available. Most of Earth's other colonies had adopted the Rite of Passing, you see. So when probes discovered Elpis 7 was habitable, they jumped at the chance to flee.”

Clara had no tears left. “I … I had no idea! Really, I didn't! And you're saying this is still going on?!”

“I assume so. That's why I asked you about the Rite when you first arrived. I'd wondered if things on Earth had changed.”

Clara shook her head. “I … I just can't believe they've been lying to us this whole time! Everyone equates long life with shame and thinks the Rite of Passing saved humanity!”

“Propaganda,” Mother Alden shook her head. “People will always believe a lie if it's repeated often enough. The Nazis believed that.”

“Then why not expose the lie?!” Clara furrowed her brow. “Why did the colonists run away instead of telling the truth? They could have started another revolution!”

“I doubt it,” Mother Alden said as she swirled milk into her tea.

“How come?”

“Because comfortable people never revolt. And from what you've described, Earth seems pretty comfortable. No one is poor. No one is disabled. No one is declining. Why sacrifice a life of convenience over a political rumor? They could simply dismiss these photos as fakes. It's remarkably easy to see only what you want to see.”

Clara took a deep breath. “So the colonists came to Elpis 7 to escape the Rite of Passing, then discovered the accelerated development here? How tragic ...”

Mother Alden dipped her hand into the black box and pulled out a yellowed leather-bound journal. “We have several of the colonists' diaries. They contain first-hand accounts of the settlement, the founding of the tribes, the original understanding of the Triad agreement – it's all there. As you can well imagine, the colonists were initially shocked about the pace of life here. Some felt their garden of Eden had turned into a death trap. But they had nowhere else to go. They couldn't return to Earth, and – as I said – most of the other colonies had already adopted the Rite of Passing.

“So they made a pact never to put restrictions regarding the form or duration of human life. No more genetic counseling or a worldwide age limit. They wanted to truly start over and divided into three groups. One group set out to explore the mountains and became ...”

“The Silva tribe?”

“That's right. The Almitians started cultivating prairie land, and the Silexians started mining photopetrium from the canyon. At first, there was peace. But one Elpis-rising, three tribal leaders went to investigate a meteorite which had landed beyond the clans' borders. They found a huge crater with a shining red stone. Silvan Chief, Garsaret, called it the Fire Stone and took it into his tent for the night. The next day, he exhibited none of the customary aging symptoms while Tomlin of Almitas and Captain Karnak gained a few more wrinkles.”

“So Captain Karnak stole the stone?” Clara asked. “In Agilis, they said he suffered an explosion, and the Fire Stone saved his life.”

“More propaganda.” Mother Alden shook her head. “We're not sure of the details because Tomlin left the other two to deal with a local beast. When he got back, Garsaret was gone, and Captain Karnak was wearing the Fire Stone. He claimed a wild animal had attacked Garsaret, and he had an impressive scar on his face to prove it. But the Silva people didn't buy it; Garsaret had been one of their most skilled hunters. They thought Garsaret had given Captain Karnak the face wound, but they never found his body or his knife.”

“So Captain Karnak took the stone and got away with murder?!”

“No,” Mother Alden said. “He stood trial. But there was never enough solid evidence to convict him despite the circumstances. The Silvans rejected the verdict of course and broke all ties with Silex and Almitas. They accused Tomlin of covering up their leader's murder and established themselves in the mountains. Over time, they forgave the Almitians and re-established trade with us. But they still don't trust Captain Karnak or trade with the Silex tribe.”

“Understandably,” Clara said. “Though it seems a shame to perpetuate prejudice.”

Mother Alden drew her tea to her lips. “To their credit, the Silvans are a hardy people and do well for themselves. They discovered gems in the mountain caves including what became their own clan heirloom: the Omnia stone.”

“Is it like your ring?” Clara asked, nodding toward the green jewel sparkling on Mother Alden's finger. “Does it make trees grow or something?”

“Oh, no,” Mother Alden chuckled. “The Silvan people are a practical sort. They fashioned the stone into a hatchet – useful for felling trees and protecting their borders. The Omnia stone is the strongest element this side of the Milky Way – three times harder than diamond.”

Clara took her tea – now cold – from the coffee table. “Out of curiosity, if the Almitians doubt Captain Karnak's innocence, why didn't they also cut off trade with the Silexians?”

“Two reasons,” Mother Alden said. “The Silexians have been dependent upon Almitas for food for generations. And we still need their photopetrium technology to power our hydroelectric turbines and agribots. Technically, we're on peaceful terms with both tribes, though Silex has been straining that peace lately ...” She sipped her tea pensively.

Clara set her empty cup down. “I read something that said the Fire Stone had mentally-enhancing powers. Is that true?”

Mother Alden snorted. “If you call mania and madness enhancement, sure.”

“Captain Karnak is mad?”

“Or possessed.” The older woman shook her head, removed the tea cozy, and poured out once again. “Sometimes, he has severe mood swings. He hardly ever sleeps. And lately he's been acting paranoid – hence the Silex army and spy drones.”

“What if Governor Solidus just fired him? The Silexians elected Solidus to be their leader, not His Eminence.”

“Yes,” said Mother Alden, “but all Captain Karnak has to do is wait him out. Eventually, Governor Solidus will age out of office. Then His Eminence will secure his influence over yet another generation and will probably never retire.”

“Sounds like the makings of a dictator,” Clara muttered.

“I wish I could disagree. But with Karnak raising an army without provocation, I fear war is inevitable – and we Almitians are not warriors.”

“Wonderful.” Clara shook her head. “Things are bleak all over ...”

Mother Alden reached out and squeezed the young woman's shoulder. “I'm so sorry, Clara. It's terribly unfair, and you have enough troubles without our local squabbles. If I could change things ...”

“I know!” Clara said more sharply than she'd intended. She raised an apologetic hand. “I'm sorry. It's not your fault. It's just so … unfortunate.” Clara swallowed hard past the tightness in her throat.

Ding! Ding! Ding! The time piece on the wall rang.

Mother Alden stood to her feet, closed the black box, and returned it to its hiding place. Then she started opening curtains. Elpis was leaning toward the western horizon. “It's getting late. Would you prefer to stay here this Elpis-setting?”

“I don't know,” Clara said as she got to her feet. “I should get back to Agilis. I need to tell the others.”

Mother Alden pursed her lips. “Clara, I wouldn't want this information to get you into trouble. It's clear His Eminence had no intention of telling you the truth. He might not like you sharing our colonial history with your team.”

“Then I'll leave out the stuff about His Eminence for now. Honestly, he will hardly be our main concern.” Clara ran a hand through her limp brown hair and sniffed.

“Go then, Clara.” Mother Alden nodded to her. “Please be careful.”

“Thanks.” Clara let herself out of the house and walked toward her hovercraft, blind to the pink and yellow climbing roses adorning the white picket fence. She stepped over the hovercraft's side, placed her recording device in a console for safekeeping, jammed in the key, and turned the ignition.

Nothing happened.

What?

She tried a second time.

Then a third. Come on!

Nothing.

“You stupid piece of junk!” Clara shouted.

Mother Alden came out onto her porch. “Something wrong?”

“My hovercraft won't start!” Clara gestured to the bucket of bolts with both hands outstretched. “I tried three times. How am I going to get back to my team? They need to hear the news in person – as much as I would prefer not to be that person.”

Mother Alden glanced at the sky. “It's too late to go on horseback. Elpis will be setting soon. In a hovercraft, you can travel anytime. But beyond the electric fences on the ground at night … that would not be wise.”

Clara sat on the hard hovercraft bench and put her head in her hands.

“Why don't you contact your team and tell them you're staying here this Elpis-setting? We can charge your hovercraft until next Elpis-rising. Then you can return and break the news face to face.”

Clara lifted her head and stared at the lifeless navigation screen. She knit her brows together. “I could have sworn I'd left the UV panels out to charge! I don't understand why this thing is dead! As if I didn't have enough problems!” she huffed.

Mother Alden drummed her fingers on the white porch railing. “Clara, why don't you take a walk? Clear your head? I'll have the guestroom set up by the time you get back.”

“Fine,” Clara said as she stepped out of the non-hovering craft and started heading down the dirt road.

“Just make sure you're within the electric fences when Elpis touches the mountains,” Mother Alden called after her.

Clara turned. “Electric fences?”

“Yes. They turn on automatically when Elpis sets.”

Clara glanced at the sky. Elpis hung a good two inches above the western white-capped mountain peaks. She nodded in acknowledgment and continued woodenly on her way.

“Poor thing,” Mother Alden murmured as she watched Clara disappear around the bend. The older woman went back inside, wheeled the tea cart back into the kitchen, and opened the linen closet to get fresh sheets for the guestroom. She'd just finished with the white and blue patchwork quilt when there was an unexpected knock at the door.

Curious, she thought. Did Clara forget something? She walked through the living room and opened the front door.

Her heart stopped.

There, standing on her very own doorstep were two visored Agilis soldiers, one holding a metal staff which pulsed and crackled with blue energy at its top.

“Magdalena Alden?” The senior officer inquired in an imposing bass.

“I … I am she.” Mother Alden squeezed her heirloom ring for reassurance. It felt cool against her sweating palm.

“You are under arrest on suspicion of inciting insurrection against His Eminence.”

Mother Alden blinked. “What?! I have done no such thing! And you have no authority here!”

The guard with the staff tapped its end against the ground. The warning hum rose in pitch.

Mother Alden's blue eyes widened.

“On the contrary, Almitian, this particular charge falls under inter-tribal law and jurisdiction.” The guard clamped his massive hand on the old woman's arm, making her wince. “You're coming with us.”

So what do you think?

Wow. Clara’s had to deal with a lot of information. How do you best cope when you’re handed bad news? And what do you think is about to happen to Mother Alden? Lemme know in the comments below!