Homesick

4702 watched from above while his body was pitched from the wheel by the Brethren inside. He was relieved that the wheel didn’t slow any during the process of his demise and that a volunteer quickly stepped in to replace him. He floated lower, watching himself get hefted by a brother and sister to be carried to the Masters. Was this death? He looked for his arms and legs, but he had none. Somehow he could see, however, and he seemed able to move as well. He watched in fascination as one of his brothers located his missing leg below the wheel and added it to the load.

He felt compelled to follow when they carried his body up the road towards the palaces, as if some invisible tether was pulling him along like a balloon on a string. He watched the rows of half-walls go by. He saw the smoke from the foundries and the loads of bricks and steel. The journey became quieter when the road parted with the slab and the trees and hills separated him from the camp. He had never seen this place before.

The entrance to the Masters’ palace was large and ornate, like a storybook castle might be. He drifted down through the gate as they carried his body inside. The courtyard beyond was spacious, clean, and more magnificent than 4702 could have imagined. As befit the Masters, their space was well decorated and meticulously maintained. Lush shrubbery and overhanging plants provided shade from the sun above and great collections of bone carvings and sculptures lined the walkways. At these he felt envy. Those Brethren would always be in the sight of their Masters! They stood at their Masters’ pleasure and decorated the place where they lived! To serve the Masters on the wheel or in the camp was a great honor, but somehow this seemed more complete. There was no interruption for sleep, food, or other annoying delays. And there was a permanence that made it a privilege beyond any other the Masters could grant. He also noticed that the new building was finished! The workers had done better than he thought. The quake damage was repaired and the stones were painted a light shade of purple to match the courtyard wall.

They headed for the Pleasure Palace, which was the largest of the Masters’ buildings. Once inside, 4702 felt an awe beyond any he’d experienced before. He was in their presence now! The whole room reflected their splendor! The domed ceiling was high and lit from above. On its great surface was the beautiful symbol of the Masters! It was constructed not with bricks and paint, but with jewels of every color! He drifted up for a closer look. The jewels were mounted in the eye sockets and tooth holes of the Brethrens’ skulls. These honored Brethren would forever behold their Masters below, bathing them in a lovely glow! How privileged to be so honored in death! Those must have been the greatest Brethren of all!

But, as he admired the artwork, he noticed a dark spot where there was no color. No skull, no bones. It was empty, as if waiting for an honored occupant. The place was in the intersection of the two great links. This would be a place of greatest honor! It was also in the exact apex of the dome, overseeing all of them. Who could be worthy of that?

He drifted down again, admiring the many rooms. They were layered in tiers, fanning out from the top. He could see inside them, since there were no walls facing inward. In each a Master sat, though he didn’t recognize all of them. Some reclined in great beds, displaying their beautiful, plump, decorated bodies. In others he could see great feasts in progress. But throughout, he noted Brethren males and females in special attire, circulating among them to offer their bodies for service. He had been vaguely aware of this practice, since many of his brothers had once lived here until they acquired enough scars to warrant transfer to more fitting work outside. But he had never seen the palace for himself or served the Masters in this way.

He scanned the rooms for familiar faces. Where was Mistress Obiiilion? Surely she couldn’t be bothered with him now, but to see her would please him. But then he did see her! Of course! She waited for him at the great table on the floor of the dome! She stood with the help of her Brethren in front of the huge eating surface spanning the dome’s diameter. In the center was placed his body. He could see specialized Brethren removing his useless clothes. What were they doing? Curious, he drifted down.

Whoosh!

He felt disoriented as he descended. When he arrived, the Brethren were no longer there, but his body was. It must have been his body, but it didn’t look the same. It had already been cleaned and drained of blood. It lay on a great platter over which Mistress Obiiilion and her assistants worked with their blades, separating his skin and preparing seasonings.

Whoosh!

The banquet had begun. Mistress Obiiilion sat at the center of the table with Master Daaarrm, their plates layered with meat! Would he really serve them so? Would they be pleased?

He could see his Mistress grasp a large piece of him in her beautiful hand. She filled her mouth and chewed critically. And then, if he still had eyes, he would have cried buckets. She smiled!

“You must try this one, Daaarrm! 4702 was our best ever! We’ll never have another like this one!”

“Superb,” he agreed. “But the leather is superior also!” Daaarrm grasped a handsome jacket he had draped over his chair. He held it out for her inspection. On the lapel was the remains of an identification brand. It was his! “This jacket will serve me well forever. I’ll probably never need another and I’ll always want to wear it!”

“Alas, we’ll miss him on the wheel,” another Master spoke up. “You know, in all the time we had him, he never once let it slow. He was the best I’ve ever known!”

“And his piles of bricks were always the highest!” another chimed in. “This one will be hard to replace in his zeal for our service.”

4702 basked in their praise, never having imagined he had impressed them so. “But I was only doing my job!” he shouted to them. “Really, I’m unworthy! If I hadn’t taken so many breaks__”

“They can’t hear you, 4702,” a calm voice called from . . . somewhere.

4702 couldn’t turn to look for the voice, but somehow he found it. Standing before him, floating above the ground as he was, he saw Mistress Pooool!

“Don’t make light of your service to us, 4702. Our praise is only given when it’s earned. And you’ve been known for a long time to be the best!”

“Me?” he stammered. “Me?”

“Can you not hear the joy of your Masters? Can you not see their pleasure? You give satisfaction to Mistress Obiiilion even now. And you’ll keep Master Daaarrm warm and comfortable on all his hunts in the woods!”

Her words caressed his ears and he remained speechless.

“Never before have they been so well served both by your life and your death. Do you not see?”

He gazed upon her face, not wanting to meet her eyes out of respect, but unable to avoid it in his state. “How is it you can see me?”

“I’m not like the others. I’m your Master, but I’m theirs as well. I am an Overseer!” she announced, as if it were an incredible secret. “When I heard of your great service to us, I took a special interest in you. And now I’ll help to honor you in death.”

She carried his consciousness briefly through the camp in a great flash and then back to the palace. “You’ve completed your service to us in life and your service in death will never end. I was sent to lead you on to your next great adventure!”

“Next? You mean I must leave here? I can’t stay?”

“No, you will never leave us!” she promised. “Your body will serve us forever. It is you, which sees me now, who must move on to a greater service. A service that will take you well beyond these walls!”

“But . . . what about . . . What about them? What about Mistress Obiiilion and Master Daaarrm?”

She pointed to the table. “Your service was and is absolute. You can do no more here. But there is another you must serve.”

He floated puzzled, scanning the palace. “But I never knew there would be . . . something . . . else to do. I don’t know . . . It was never explained!”

“I am your explanation. That’s why they sent me.”

Her form drew nearer to him, carrying with it a strange warmth. “You have served them well. Now, at my bidding, you will move on. It’s your time, 4702. This is part of your service. Accept the joy we offer you!”

“Must I leave my home?”

“No. There will always be a place for you here. Observe!”

Whoosh!

They floated near the top of the dome, where a scaffold had been set up spanning the upper tiers. The galleries were filled with Masters watching as a single Builder stood in the center, reaching up to complete the great, glowing symbol of the Masters with the final skull. The skull was flatter than the others and its jaw looked different. Above the eye sockets, now housing beautiful blue gems, was written in their most eloquent script, “4702, the greatest of the Brethren for all time!”

4702 could not even respond to the great honor he felt. He could only look on in amazement at their undeserved praise.

“There is no higher attainment, 4702. Your work here is done. Now you are needed at your new home,” she said with some force. “It awaits your service.”

As she spoke, 4702 noticed that the wall behind the great table was losing its shape, distorting into a vortex of swirling colors. She guided him down to face it.

“But . . .” he said in frustration, not knowing what else to say. He looked back at his Masters lining the walls with their acts of pleasure. From above him, he could almost feel his own eyes and their blue glow adding to the lovely chorus of color from the great symbol. They smiled down on him with a pride he never imagined he could achieve. He looked from the room to Mistress Pooool and then to the vortex ahead. Finally, with a mental effort that felt strange to him, he began to accept her words.

“What must I do?” he asked. “Who is the new Master I must serve?”

“You will know him by a name you might remember,” she sang to him. “He has three names, unlike us. The name may seem strange to you at first, but that’s because it’s not of this world. You will serve Scott Charles Anderson.”

An instant of pain. The name hurt him! But then the pain subsided slightly. It was a strange sort of hurt, more like confusion than pain. It was as if he had stepped out into bright sunlight from a darkened hut. The world beyond the darkness only hurt briefly because he was not yet accustomed to seeing it. Then the pain faded further.

“Scott Charles Anderson,” he repeated in wonder. “Who is he?”

“You will know him soon,” she promised. “And you will serve him utterly. You will be him!”

“What? But I’m not worthy__”

“That is how you will serve him! You have earned this right of service! And now your new Master is within you. Your job is to serve him. And you must start by remembering him.”

“But I don’t know who you say. I don’t think I know. How can I remember what I don’t know?”

“It’s simple, really. All you have to do is be willing to remember him. And you’ll have help!”

He thought for a moment, taking one last look at the rows of Masters and his lovely skull grinning down from above. “If this is your wish, Mistress, then I’ll do as you say.”

“Shortly a helper will come to you here. She’ll bring Scott Anderson with her if you let yourself remember. Will you watch for her?”

“Where will you be?” he asked in alarm.

“I’ll be here,” she promised. “But, once you do this final service for us, you’ll leave for your new home and you’ll not see us again. It is your time.”

Again, if he could have cried an ocean, he would have. Not with joy this time, but with great sadness. But he also felt an odd exhilaration. A new adventure was coming! He stood alone facing the vortex. And this time, with another feat of unknown strength, he did not look back.

In the vortex, the colors swirled and churned. Some of the reds, greens, and violets oozed together to form a shape, which moved forward into the Pleasure Palace. All at once, it molded into a woman. The colors distributed themselves into her beautiful attire and glowing red hair!

The woman was clean, unlike the Brethren. She wore no scars and her flesh was unblemished. Her red hair draped over her shoulders like a glistening fire. But something else came out of the vortex with her. Something he couldn’t see, but still knew was there. A word. That’s what it was, though he couldn’t explain it. The word had no obvious substance, but he could feel it somehow. It was attached to her and it touched him as she approached. As it did, he felt his feet touch the ground.

His feet?

Yes, his body had returned, clean and unblemished like hers. Now the word embraced him, working its way into his soul. And then he knew what its substance had been. Familiarity. The word was a memory! Everywhere it touched him it lit tiny fires in his mind and turned on lights he hadn’t known were out. He began to see images from somewhere far away. Those images lit other fires, multiplying through his soul, opening forgotten doors to illuminate dark rooms. He felt his own voice breathe the word, as if confirming its awesome power.

“Carrie!”

And then, in a flash of realization, as if speaking the word gave it even more power, he felt all the doors open at once. A great meaning dawned on him as he beheld her. “I remember you, Carrie!”

The woman ran to him, embracing him tenderly as the Pleasure Palace disappeared forever behind them. The feeling brought yet more familiarity to the surface. The hotness of her tears drew out his own, though he wasn’t sure why. He now stood in a familiar place with old, worn furniture and colorful children’s drawings on the walls. It was their house! Yes, that’s what it was! And she was his wife!

And then another woman appeared. She was younger and smaller than Carrie, with bright blond hair and a delicate face. This opened up yet more doors. He remembered seeing that face when it was much younger. He remembered holding her and playing with her. He remembered her love!

“Dad?” she said, looking at him with questioning eyes.

“Emily?” he whispered, reaching for her tiny hand. But something was missing. Something important! “Emily, where’s Mike?” More lights turned on. “Toddy?” He gasped. “Where’s Toddy?”

“Mike’s at the game. They’re playing the Warriors! Toddy’s at Aunt Jessica’s house.”

He sighed with relief, though he wasn’t sure why the tiny girl’s explanations were acceptable to him.

“They wanted me to go to the game too, but the Doctor said I could stay.” Her eyes began to glow with wonder and concern. Bravely, she spoke the question trapped within her heart by fear. “Are you okay now, Daddy?”

“Mike’s playing the Warriors?” he repeated, searching for meaning in the words.

“Yeah, but Mike says they’re a bunch of wimps!”

He nodded. “Yeah, ever since they lost that big fellow from Colorado, they aren’t much good for anything,” he heard himself say.

Carrie had never let go of him. Now she held him yet tighter, leaving space for Emily to join them.

“He’s coming back to us now!” Rachel whispered to Sally, her eyes glistening with tears. “We can let them alone now.”

Sally stared at the beautiful scene, not knowing if she could dare believe it was true. “Then that’s really . . .”

“Yes, they’re real,” she said. “The main program’s terminated now. I told Carrie what to do. She’ll fill him in from here and we can look in on them later.”

“But, how do you know?” Ian asked, his voice trembling. “He hasn’t really said much of anything yet.”

She turned to him, her grin expanding. “But he said it in English. Don’t you see? Carrie doesn’t have a translator interface!”

Ian felt the lump in his throat grow as the full meaning of her words embraced his heart. And then they were all three crying together.