He Without Sin Read online

  Yes, it has to be something on this order. That’s the reward.

  How did it happen that I am not like that? Am I missing some valuable ability, need or skill? Chit-chat must sometimes lead to real communication, I would hope. And it sure seems that most people are comfortable with small talk. Where did I miss the boat?

  A youngish, clean-cut man is approaching. Small talk test coming right up. I affect the same friendly smile as his and can’t help but think he is dressed for an important meeting, not as casual as the rest of us. It sure looks like our stranger—could it be I know this guy?—has business in mind.

  “Excuse me, but are you Cadet Shipley?”

  “Yes. I’m Jason,” I reply and look inquisitively at his clean-shaven face. I don’t recall seeing it before…

  “I believe I know your brother.”

  “Really, you know Tom? How did that happen? He lives and works a long way from here.”

  “Yes. I just saw him a few days ago, before I left to come here. We work together at Ming Data. I’m Jeff Sanders.”

  “Jeff…? Oh, yes, now I see. Nice haircut. Tom must’ve sent a picture or two of you guys.”

  “Thank you. Yes, it’s me. The short hair gets everyone, it seems. I didn’t even recognize me at first. I have an interview this evening. At least I hope I do.”

  I nod and smile, showing what I believe to be the appropriate amount of concern.

  “But you know he’s leaving? You know he volunteered for one of our customer’s testing programs?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Who, Tom?” Jeff nods as I digest this surprise. “I had no idea. When did this happen?”

  “Just happened.”

  “I’ve been stuck with this group all week and will be for at least another few days. Even so, I haven’t heard from Tom in a long while. Last I heard he wasn’t happy there, but he looked like he was having a good time at the company picnic or whatever it was.”

  Jeff continues, while scanning the crowd, “He sees this new thing as a real opportunity. Your bro’ is something, I’ll say that. No, he was not happy. Said he couldn’t take much more sitting in a box. Kept going on about limitations and boundary conditions. A real smart guy but no, not happy there. The change of pace will do him good. It’s a paid spot too and long term—a few years at least.”

  We sidle up to the refreshment table and get a couple of soft drinks before Jeff takes his leave saying, “Hey, I’ve got to run. I’m going to try to do the impossible and corner Big Brachus alone,” nodding in the direction of a knot of men, indicating the tall one with a short military cut to his gray hair, “before he disappears tonight. Truth is, I’m not as Ming-positive as I once was either and would like to see if there’s anything else for me out there. I’ve heard some things about the big boy but I’ll try to ignore that.” He pauses, smiling, to see if I get the joke before continuing. “He’s been around and seems to be a player both in the Academy and in the outside. I hear he was at Ming long ago, before it was even called Ming.”

  I glance in the direction Jeff indicates and take a good look at “Big” Brachus. I don’t know him but have seen him around. He is indeed big. He’s tall, but not extremely so, and big boned so that he presents a formidable mass. If you need to plow through a crowd, follow him. I wouldn’t say he’s out of shape but guess he enjoys his cuisine if you know what I mean. He has a sort of a wobble as he walks as if his spindly legs have a hard time keeping up with the rest of him.

  He seems to be having a great time and is in the middle of a small group of men. His round face boasts a big smile as he participates in the give and take of the group. I see him lean in conspiratorially and say something to one person in particular, then lean back and laugh, his grin even bigger than before. Strange, the other person’s only reaction is to smile politely. Bad joke?

  “Alright, nice meeting you and good luck. I’ll tell Tom we met. Say, what program is he going for again?”

  “It’s the long-term survivability lab or some such thing. Not sure exactly. See ya,” as Jeff moves away through the crowd.

  Huh, how about that. Real information from small talk— who knew? I’m going to strangle that Tom the next time I see him.

  “Excuse me, did you hear the last announcement?” I say in a small-talk sort of way to a random person nearby while trying to re-focus on the evening’s agenda. After all, this is the last formal day at the Academy.

  “Yes. No. I mean I heard the PA but didn’t pay any attention to the announcement,” says the non-helpful bystander.

  Thanks a lot for responding. Valuable input that. I should thank you no doubt so you can know you are really real.

  Or not.

  Another voice responds, this one familiar. “Relax, I heard it. We are to assemble for the dean’s speech. It means we have plenty of time. Where can a guy get a cocktail around here?”

  “Hey Mark. Didn’t see you.”

  I had several sessions with Mark Arwyn. Not the introductory ones, but mission-specific ones and the technology seminars. Mark is experienced and has been out at least a couple of times already. He has the facial creases to prove it, although I am beginning to understand that they are mostly laugh lines. He has a slight limp but has never talked about it and I haven’t brought it up. Not sure how old he is and of course it’s nearly impossible to tell in absolute years, but he shows all the signs of middle age and a little beyond. I wonder if this will be his last mission.

  Mark is quite a character. I have been using him as my go-to guy for questions but it hasn’t been easy. I mean, he’s a bit of a curmudgeon. He comes on that way at first at least. He certainly knows his stuff, and he expects you to know yours. I have to say that I envy the ease with which he interacts with everyone. He seems to know everyone and they him. He’s not shy with his opinion on technical matters and is not afraid to contradict or correct anyone, and I mean anyone.

  “The schedule is way behind, as usual. Did they give a new start time for the speech?”

  Mark brushes his thinning red hair across from right to left and speaks at the same time, “No. Because they don’t know. Once they herd everyone in, it will begin. They can’t start without an audience. Like I said, plenty of time.”

  “Yeah, ok, but I’m heading in anyway. I’d rather sit where I can hear myself think. See you in there maybe.”

  Interestingly, as I move away I see this Brachus fellow heading right for me through the crowd, looking right at me. What’s up with that? His face has lost its grin but has not been replaced with any other expression that I can read. As soon as he gets to a socially acceptable distance I nod, say hello and pull up to a stop, assuming we are going to greet and make the dreaded small talk. Instead, no response at all. After I stop he shifts his gaze, brushes right past me and moves away. What the…? I turn and see he is grinning and shaking hands with another of the senior men, one that I don’t know. Not that I know Brachus. And not sure I want to.

  ______

  I sit way back in the hall; it is bright and filling up, but at least there is no social pressure to interact. I see I have no messages from Tom and send him a short text. “Dear job hopper. I learn from strangers what you are up to. Details please.” We have already received official comms units and I am still learning mine.

  I spot that cute young woman with the short brown hair. I’m pretty sure she was looking at me, but not positive. I was in one multi-session course with her. She already had a partner in the lab and we never talked. Unfortunately.

  Mark finds me and has a handful of snacks; he sits next to me.

  “I’m looking forward to this. Can’t wait to see what he has to say,” I say.

  Mark counters with, “This? You’re kidding. ‘Rah, rah, blah, blah.’ No new information. ‘You’re the greatest class ever, now get out there and give ‘em hell, etc.’ Been through this before. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t mandatory.”

  “Say, I almost literally ran into that Brachus character a minu
te ago. Said ‘Hi’ but he totally blew me off and ignored me. First impression: seems like an ass.”

  “Hey, don’t talk about my new boss that way!”

  “Huh, what are you talking about? Your boss?” I look carefully at Mark’s face to see the usual hint of mirth but nothing more. There is a small crumb from one of the snacks he is munching on the corner of his mouth.

  “Yep, he and a couple of his buds are going to be on our team. We all ship out together. Here, have some.” He waves a small bag of something toward me.

  “Our team? Is that possible? The leadership mix has been set for ages, hasn’t it? Tell me you are kidding.”

  “I wouldn’t kid you,” Mark says with a look that says ‘Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn’t.’

  “So much for Team Dynamics, Compatibility Profiling, and all that crap. I don’t like it. I didn’t like the vibe I got from him—no warm fuzzies at all.”

  “Relax, maybe I’m wrong. Anyway, I like him. He’s great. I was in a session with him.” Mark chuckles a bit and adds, “I couldn’t pin down exactly what his contribution was, but he looked and sounded great. Shhhh, here we go.”

  I again wave off his offer of a snack. The lights have dimmed and I have a funny feeling in my stomach. In a low voice I ask, “Where did you hear this? From him?”

  “Nope, gabbing out in the hallway. It’s the best place to pick up information. Now be quiet and pay attention; this is the part you wanted to hear.”

  Short introductory comments are followed by the long and boring ritual of naming of all the graduates, their primary area of study, and any special academic honors they may have achieved. Inevitably my mind begins to wander and I begin to think about the future.

  This is the end of the beginning and beginning of…an adventure. No, never mind, I am not a poet.

  It’s the end of training and preparation. Any additional learning will be OJT as they say. This log will serve as my diary and I will add it to my official records of the mission somehow, but in a private manner. The endless introduction of the graduates and their accomplishments is interminable and…Mark is jabbing me with his elbow. Where was I? The real speech begins anon, poetically speaking. Can’t record now; more later.

  The Devil You Say

  As curious and disturbing as Mark’s comments about our team are, the dean’s portion of the agenda is on and of interest to me; my thoughts turn to the proceedings. Many, I would guess most, of the new Cadets have family present. I don’t. No matter, I will work in a visit with them before launch. They are lucky to be physically close to the Academy, except for Tom. Maybe he will be around too. Apparently I am not privy to his latest activities.

  Mark has no one here either but laughs and makes a joke saying, “If you’d been through this as many times as I have, you wouldn’t be here either.” Although that doesn’t make any sense at all, I laugh with him.

  Up front, I see Commander David Means, our fearless leader, pass by the dean and they speak briefly as he passes.

  Dean Carson cuts an impressive figure. He is presidential in appearance; he should be in politics, where image counts for as much as, if not more than, substance. Not that the dean lacks substance, not at all. I have been impressed with him during my time here. When speaking in front of a group, he knows what he is about. He has the cool look of authority and uses it to good advantage. Black hair, in place. Dark suit, fits perfectly.

  David Means is easy to spot; he is one of the few older men with a full head of wavy hair. And not short either— his hair, I mean. Long enough to raise an eyebrow or two when first meeting him but not long enough to create any lasting negative effect. Besides, the salt ‘n’ pepper coloring gives a sufficient aura of maturity to quell any suspicions.

  Several of the team leaders, and I think they are the ones scheduled for departure on the longest expeditions, have a few seconds each with Dean Carson and then: “Welcome everyone; students, staff, faculty, and, not least, our visitors. We are happy to be able to share this brief time with you all together at the culmination of our current programs. As you visitors no doubt have learned at your orientation seminar, we have, as we normally do, a mixed group of both new graduates as well as veterans.

  “Let me first address the vets. If you would please stand, yes, thank you, please stand while I say that you are one of the greatest assets we as an institution could hope to have.

  No, more than that, one of the greatest assets our society as a whole could hope to have. You are scientists and pioneers, but you are also teachers and leaders. Your presence and contributions bring continuity and richness we would otherwise be without in our quest for a stable, responsible and secure civilization. Whether you are here to prepare for a new mission, or whether you are closing out your career and readying to return, for the first time in many years, to the general populace, we wish you well and again offer our sincere thanks.”

  The audience acknowledges the standing vets with polite applause and the dean motions for all to be seated once again.

  “Speaking of new missions, and certainly not to diminish the importance of shorter term projects, we have with us this evening those special people who have volunteered for some of the longest missions of all; missions that have a significant impact on our future and the future of generations to follow. Would our Deep Survey and Genetic Expansion team leaders please stand? Thank you. These are very special people indeed. We owe a debt of gratitude to these and to all of the teams and their families, past, present and future, for the sacrifices they are making.”

  More polite applause as the team leaders acknowledge the recognition.

  “Finally, we are pleased and proud to present to you the next generation of graduates, men and women whose dedication and performance will no doubt contribute positively to the long and storied tradition of excellence at our institution.

  “These are the officers, the leaders, those who will shape the future of our society, some sooner, some later. They are the best we have to offer the world and beyond, to the limits of our civilization.

  “We anticipate the accomplishments of this class and enjoy the confidence of knowing they will make us, their predecessors, their peers and their families proud to be among those who can say, ‘I know him. He is a good man. We know her. She is a good woman. They are the strong, the trustworthy.’ Please join me in congratulating them and wishing them the best of luck in the future.”

  Dean Carson finishes by scanning slowly over the crowd during a hearty general applause. Afterward, he proceeds with his program by announcing some special service awards and recognition to a few outstanding attendees.

  “Told ya. What a load of crap,” Mark says in his best dismissive tone when all was done.

  “I don’t know. I liked it,” I replied. “Short and sweet.” Was it really that corny? I like that sort of speech. It wraps everything up and pumps you up for the future. All the impact and whatnot. Yee-hah. I guess not everyone feels the same way, in fact I know they don’t.

  “Did you see your smiling face up there on the screen at the end?”

  “What, me?” feigns Mark. “Oh, the ridiculous service award? If you live long enough, they give you an award. I don’t trouble myself with that nonsense.”

  “I saw a couple other faces I recognized. I didn’t realize the select company I’m in.”

  “Yeah, yeah, everybody’s a winner. How about that cocktail now? You in?”

  “Sure, lead the way.”

  ______

  We migrate to a nearby and familiar bar and find a dark, quiet spot to sit. Mark gives specific instructions for his drink. For myself, anything will do, I’m not picky. I have often repeated that the taste doesn’t matter, only the effect matters to me. Besides, I’ve had one of Mark’s drinks. It tastes horrible and I’ve told him so. His enigmatic classic response: ‘One is too many, two is just right, three is not enough. Have another.’

  “Your drinking preference is unfortunate,” he says. “You are missing
out. Say, did you notice big Wes B stood up when the dean asked the leaders to stand?”

  “What? No. Again, you’ve got to be kidding! I’ve barely heard of him and now all of a sudden he is everywhere you look? Team leader too?”

  “Not kidding. But I know for sure David is still our head honcho. Maybe Brachus has secured himself another team. That must be it.”

  I have a hunch that Mark knows damn well that last guess is not true; that’s his style.

  ______

  Of all people, I spot Jeff Sanders as we are leaving. “You were in the closing session?”

  “No,” he says, “just hanging around. I’m heading back to work tomorrow.”

  “Did you have any luck cornering Brachus?”

  “Yes, I sure did. He was encouraging and said he would certainly try to hook me up before he shoves off. I hope he turns up something for me. Seems unlikely ‘cause he’s outta here soon, but I’m geeked anyway that he’s going to try. Talk to Tom?”

  I shake my head. That positive report, however minor, removed a little of the dark cloud hovering over my mood after Mark’s comments. I stop myself commenting to Jeff about my annoyance with Tom when I see a pleasant sight.

  “Jason?” she asks.

  “Yes. Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m Carol. Looks like we’ll be travelling together,” she offers as she extends her hand. I take her hand but she doesn’t shake, she just squeezes a little. “Are you leaving?”

  Traveling together? Can that be right? I answer her question, “We were, just. I’m here with Mark although it looks like he’s disappeared already. Are you here for dinner? Drinks?”

  “Sort of. I’ve ordered food to go and just got the text that it’s ready.”

  We hold each other’s gaze for an almost awkward length of time; I try to think of something to say. We move a little to the side to let others pass.