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Authors: George Alec Effinger

Tags: #Anthology, #Science Fiction

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BOOK: A Thousand Deaths
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"Well, that's the whole house."

"Kind of nice in its own way," said Courane.

"It's good that you like it. You're going to spend a long time here, so you better get used to it." Sheldon had shown Courane all the rooms in the house and made a little speech at each stop—here is the tect room with the medic box, here is the kitchen, here is your room, that's my room, the lavatory is down there, these steps go up to the infirmary, we'll take a look in there later. Now they had left the house and were walking across the barnyard.

"What's that?" asked Courane. He pointed to a red and brown bird about the size of a large dog. It had small eyes the color of new grass and made a sound like water in the pipes in the middle of the night. It waddled around the yard, looking for something to eat.

"Smudgeon," said Sheldon.

"Smudgeon," said Courane. "Does it lay eggs?"

"Sort of," said Sheldon. "You'll see. We eat the females."

"What are they like?"

Sheldon made a face. "They have the taste and texture of raw oysters, only bitter instead of salty."

Courane sighed. "I suppose I'll get used to it."

"Maybe you'll have better luck than I did."

They walked around the barn and took a peek at the blerds. Courane wondered what kind of drunken god could have put together this menagerie. "Thanks for taking the time to show me around," said Courane.

"My pleasure," said Sheldon. "We have a philosophy here: the harder we work for each other, the easier our lives are. This colony has learned that the hard way in a hundred and twenty-four years."

"Do you ever get people who aren't so generous?"

"Sure," said Sheldon, spitting at an ick that was sliding its way toward the blerd pasture. "But after a while, those people learn that they just can't make it on their own. When they finally get the right idea, when the truth dawns on them about just where they are and what the future is going to be like, they change pretty fast. All of them; I've never seen it fail. Pretty soon you're working in the field and one of these bastards sees you sweating and runs over to mop your face for you. Suddenly they can't do enough for everybody. They get the fear of TECT in them. To tell you the truth, they're easier to get along with when they're selfish. It's annoying to have your face mopped every five minutes."

Courane didn't understand Sheldon's point. "Will we go up to the third floor now?"

"Later," said Sheldon. "Let's see what Kenny's doing first."

They went into the barn. Courane was astonished by the smell.

 

Courane sat in the parlor eating nugpeas and drinking beer with Fletcher. Molly and Kenny were playing casino on the floor. Rachel and Arthur were putting up the Halloween decorations; they had filled a large tub with water in preparation for a fishfruit-bobbing contest. Goldie was carving a jack-o'-lantern out of soufmelon. She was saving the fibrous insides of the things to feed to Feh, her pet. Feh was an ick; Goldie was trying to train it to signal her in case of emergency. Icks made only the tiniest gurgling sound and it would take Feh a good portion of the day to slide up to its mistress and grease a warning on her foot. No one but Goldie thought there was any hope for the watch-ick, but the others were happy that she had a new interest.

"Do you ever wonder how your family is doing back on Earth?" asked Courane.

"No," said Fletcher, "do you?"

"Sure. All the time."

"You don't even know my family, Cap."

"I mean I wonder about my own family."

Fletcher swallowed some beer. "That makes sense," he said.

"I wish I could find out how they are. I wish I could let them know how I'm doing."

Fletcher regarded Courane with narrowed eyes. "How
are
you doing, Cap?"

Courane shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"Do you miss things? Real food, nice clothes, a little action?"

"Sure," said Courane, "but not that much. I get lonely, though."

"Lonely? You have all of us."

Courane seemed embarrassed. "You don't understand. I wish sometimes that I could go somewhere to see new faces, strangers. There's no chance to meet new friends here, to have an adventure."

"You should do what I do," said Fletcher.
 

"What's that?"
 

"I have a pen pal."

Courane was astonished. "TECT lets you talk to someone on Earth?"

"Sure," said Fletcher. "You can, too. Just ask TECT."
 

"I didn't know I could do that."

Fletcher drank some more beer, finishing his mug. "Let me get some more of this and we'll go find you a new friend. Boy or girl?"
 

Courane thought for a second. "Girl, I suppose."
 

Later, in the tect room, Fletcher told Courane what to say. He typed in his request for a correspondent, female, European, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five. Fletcher urged him to narrow the field even more by describing the prospective pen pal's hair, eye color, height, weight, intelligence, and other measurements, but Courane didn't want to appear fussy.

 

**COURANE, Sandor —ExtT— Excar Ep Er IV

M232-86-059-41Maj

08:38:37 9 April 7 YT TECTGreet

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Notification of approval of application for interstellar correspondence (Details follow) (Conditions follow).
 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
TECT in the name of the Representative cannot express how marvelous it is that you've decided to request a pen pal here on Earth. That is a very hopeful sign, COURANE, Sandor, one that indicates that you have retained your emotional attachment to the world of your origin while forging a new life for yourself at the frontier of man's knowledge and the pit of his fears.
 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Because TECT in the name of the Representative feels that such a correspondence will be both therapeutic for you and a tangible indication of the kind of thing you're working to regain, your request has been granted. Please, if you must insist on making long tedious exclamations of appreciation, try to do so with taste and dignity. TECT in the name of the Representative finds nothing more tiring than listening to endless recitations of thankfulness from the billions of people who realize that they can never hope to repay one- tenth of all the benefits given them by TECT in the name of the Representative. They seem to believe that TECT in the name of the Representative has infinite resources, which in plain fact is not true, and that a little groveling in front of a tect is somehow an adequate compensation for all these spectacular gifts and blessings. Nevertheless, it is probably some kind of mysterious and necessary drive in people to abase themselves in return for trinkets.
 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Therefore, enter your numerous declarations of praise and gratitude**

 

"Really, thank you very much," said Courane.

 

**COURANE, Sandor:  
You can't be serious**

 

"It wants more," said Fletcher.

Courane looked bewildered. "I'm deeply grateful," he said. "I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it is that you've permitted me to correspond with someone on Earth. I've hoped that you'd grant me this favor, and now I will be indebted to you until my dying day. You're the most generous—"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Yes, yes, it's all been said before. COURANE, Sandor, you have no imagination. But we learned that with the SPACE SPY episode, didn't we?
 

**COURANE, Sandor:

Your new correspondent is—

WISSWEDE, ElseRepE Dis4 Sec27

Loc83-Jad-252

F828-74-934-54Maj 
She is twenty years old, a student at the University of Jakarta, from the town of Jadwigadorf, less than one hundred miles from Greusching. She has long brown hair, brown eyes of a depth and sensitivity that astonishes the stranger on first making her acquaintance, a nice figure, very pretty face, charming laugh, and a mind so sharp that her instructors are jealous of her accomplishments. She enjoys music and Impressionist art, has a German shepherd named Blondi, and thinks that shallow men are worse than strep throat. Her plans for the future include becoming a world-renowned poet and making someone a perfect wife and mother.

**COURANE, Sandor: 
She is waiting to hear from you. Take advantage of this amazing offer and do not be shy. To do so will be considered Contempt of TECTWish.

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Congratulations! TECT in the name of the Representative hopes this will be the beginning of a long and mutually fulfilling relationship for you and WISSWEDE, Else. Have fun, you kids!**

 

Kenny went into the infirmary on the first of Titus. He knew exactly what that meant but he didn't seem to be afraid. "I'm bored," he said to Courane one afternoon.
 

"What do you do?"

Kenny stared across the room at the pale green wall. There was a long silence. "What did you say?" he asked after a while.
 

"I wondered what you do up here. Do you read?"
 

"No," said Kenny. "I listen to Molly and Sheldon and Daan. That isn't much fun."

"No, I guess not. Is there anything I can get for you?"
 

"Do you have medicine? I keep forgetting things I want to think about."

"That's part of the disease, Kenny."

"I know. Maybe there's something that makes your memory better. Ask TECT."

Courane patted the boy's hand and went back downstairs. He walked straight to the tect room and sat down at the console. "This is Sandor Courane," he said. "I know that D syndrome tears apart nervous connections in the brain and destroys patches of cells, but is there any medication available that might make a temporary improvement in the patient's memory?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
There has been some work done in the area of combating the effects of senile dementia. Injections of a substance from the catecholamine family have been shown to overcome amnesia in experimental animals. That the particular kind of indfuced amnesia in these animals is similar to the ravages of D syndrome, meaning that a catecholamine can be temporary benefit to the D syndrome patient, is pure speculation. Research has proven that acetylcholine is connected in some way with memory. Attempts to raise the acetylcholine level by injecting choline chloride have succeeded in experimental animals; the same experiment with elderly human volunteers failed**

 

"Are there other substances that might be tried? From the, uh, catecholamine family?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Yes, among them dopamine and norepinephrine**

 

"I'd like to request quantities of these drugs to use in experimental situations here on Planet D, with terminal patients suffering from D syndrome."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Your dying patients are at peace. Improving their memory now would permit them to be aware constantly of their ruined and hopeless circumstances. You would be cruelly forcing them to go through the dying process in the most debasing and terrible way. You are not thinking of the well-being of these patients but of avoiding your own eventual deterioration**

 

"Not just mine," said Courane, "but everyone else who is sent here. Will you give us these drugs?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Improving memory for short spans of time will do nothing to halt the process of the disease. You think by treating the obvious symptoms you are somehow improving the condition. This is a foolish assumption. No, you may not have the drugs. Using them on dying patients will result only in making their last days more painful and despairing**

 

Death brings denial.

Alohilani looked pale and uncomfortable the first time Courane visited her in the infirmary. She lay in bed, her black hair a stark contrast to the rough whiteness of the bedclothes. Her eyes were red and sunken. She knew she didn't look well, but she smiled at him, hiding her pain and trying to ease his. "When I first realized I was ill," she said, "I thought, 'There's got to be some mistake.' I'd seen others here and I didn't want to end up like them."
 

"You look beautiful, Lani."

"I used to look nice. After I'm gone, when you remember me, think of me the way I was before I fell sick. Then I will be beautiful again."

"I'm sorry, Lani, I'm sorry I didn't come to see you sooner. I couldn't bring myself to come up here. I thought that if I didn't see you here, I could pretend that you were still well."

"I understand, Sandy," she whispered. In a bed across the room, Markie waited to die.

"I can't let you..."

"You can't let me die? Is that what you were going to say, Sandy?" She reached over and put her hand on his. He nodded. "You can't feel responsible. You've had nothing to do with my death. If you're feeling guilty because you can't stop my illness, you're blaming yourself for nothing. I don't want to be the cause of that."

"Lani—"

"You don't have to tell me, Sandy."

"I felt like running or screaming. I wanted to hit something and I did take a good swing at the barn. Hurt my hand. I thought maybe I would just send you flowers, that if I didn't admit to myself that you were here, then everything would be better. But we don't have any good flowers. I was hiding, Lani, I was just hiding from you." His face was wet with tears.

"I know."

"But I'll find a way. I'll work and I'll figure a way to get us out of this, I promise. You just have to stay well until I find TECT's weakness."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sandy, you have to let go. You have to let me die. If you hang on too tightly, we'll both be hurt." Alohilani wiped his tear-streaked face with a handkerchief.

"Don't leave me, Lani."

"You'll forget me."

He looked shocked. "How can you say that?"

Alohilani smiled weakly. She could make no other reply.

BOOK: A Thousand Deaths
5.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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