Specimen Days

'I can be here. I can do that.'

'Do you know what that means? We can't turn around and come back for you.'

'I know that.'

'I want you to come,' Luke said. There was a hint of whine in his tone.

He was in fact a twelve-year-old boy. It was easy to forget that.

Simon said, 'You'll be fine without me.'

'I know. I know I will. I still want you to come.'

'What's that you've got there?' Simon asked. Luke was holding something in a white plastic bag.

'Oh. Just this.'

He reached into the bag and produced the little china bowl they'd bought from the old woman in Denver.

'You're taking that to another planet?'

'It was my mother's.'

'What?'

'I don't know how Gaya ended up with it. We left Denver kind of quickly, one of Mom's credit-card things blew up, and I guess Gaya got to our apartment before the authorities did. I remember this bowl from when I was a baby. Mom must have boosted it. She'd never have bought something like this.'

Luke stood holding the bowl in both hands. It appeared to put out a faint glow in the darkening room.

'Is there some kind of writing on it?' Simon asked.

'Doesn't mean shit.' 'Come on.'

'It's a language from some loser country. One of those places with horrible weather and a long line of demented rulers. One of those places that seem to have existed only so their citizens could devote their lives to trying to get the hell out.'

'Do you know what it says?'

'Nope. No idea.'

'But you want to take it with you.'

'I paid for it.'

'With my money.'

Luke shrugged and put the bowl back into the bag. Only the sound of Catareen's breath was audible. Ee-um-fah-um-so, faint as a curtain worried by wind.

Simon thought he could see the bowl on another planet some time in the next century, sitting on a shelf, where it would silently reflect an alien light. This small and fragile object, bearing its untranslatable message, was the entire estate of a woman who had intentionally deformed her child and then abandoned him. The bowl would travel to another sun, although it was neither rare nor precious.

Biologicals were mysterious.

Luke said, 'You're absolutely sure you don't want to come?'

'I do want to come. But I'm staying here.'

'Okay.'

'Okay.'

Luke went and stood beside the slumbering Catareen. 'Goodbye,' he said softly. She did not respond.

Luke said, 'If I was a better person, I'd stay, too.'

'Don't be ridiculous. There's no reason for both of us to stay.'

'I knew you'd say that.'

'But you wanted to hear it anyway, didn't you?'

'Yeah. I did.'

'Is this what Christians refer to as absolution?'

'Uh-huh. Anybody can do it. You don't need a priest.'

'You don't really believe in this crap, do you? Really?'

'I do. I really do. Can't help it.'

Luke stood solemnly at Catareen's bedside. He held the bowl close to his chest.

'She's had a long life. Now she's going to the Lord.'

'Frankly it creeps me out a little when you say things like that,' Simon said.

'It shouldn't. If you don't like 'Lord,' pick another word. She's going home. She's going back to the party. Whatever you like.'

'I suppose you have some definite ideas about an afterlife.'

'Sure. We get reabsorbed into the earthly and celestial mechanism.'

'No heaven?' 'That's heaven.'

'What about realms of glory? What about walking around in golden slippers?'

'We abandon consciousness as if we were waking from a bad dream. We throw it off like clothes that never fit us right. It's an ecstatic release we're physically unable to apprehend while we're in our bodies. Orgasm is our best hint, but it's crude and minor by comparison.'

'This is what Holy Fire taught you?'

'No, they were idiots. It's just something I know. The way you know your poetry.'

'I don't know poetry, exactly. I contain it.'

'Same difference, don't you think? Hey, it's about time for me to blast off to another planet.'

'I'll walk you downstairs. I'd like to say goodbye to the others.'

'Okay.'

They went together to the base of the ship. It was humming now. It put out a faint glow like the one that had emanated from Luke's mother's bowl in the dimness of the sickroom. The settlers were assembled at the bottom of the ramp. At the top of the ramp, the entranceway was a square of perfect white light.

Emory said heartily to Simon, 'Here we go, then.' 'I've just come to see you off,' Simon told him. 'You're not coming?'

Simon explained. Emory listened. When Simon had finished, Emory said, 'This is really rather extraordinary, you know.'

'What is?' 'You.'

'I'm not extraordinary. Please don't patronize me.' Emory said, 'A child said'

'I don't feel like reciting poetry just now,' Simon told him.

'Really?'

'Really.'

Emory smiled and nodded. 'As you wish,' he said.

Twyla approached from the crowd, with Luke behind her. She said to Simon, 'If you're staying here, you could take care of Hesperia.'

'I guess I could.'

'The neighbors are coming to get her tomorrow. Tell them they can't have her after all. Tell them you're going to keep her. Will you do that?'

'Sure.'

Luke said, 'He can't take care of a horse. The neighbors are a better bet. They're horse people, right?'

'Hesperia would be one of the herd to them. She'll be Simon's only horse.'

'This is assuming Simon wants or needs a horse. This is assuming he'd have any idea what to do with a horse.'

Othea said, 'We need to be getting on board now.' She held the infant in her arms.

Emory said to Simon, 'It seems I did a better job with you than I'd realized.'

'Have a good trip,' Simon said.

'Same to you. Excuse me, I've got to do a head count. Don't wander off. I want to say a proper goodbye.'

Emory strode off into the crowd. Luke and Twyla continued bickering about the horse. The argument seemed to be leading them into other, more general areas of disagreement.

Simon decided it was as good a time as any to slip away. No one seemed to notice when he did.

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