Creative Commons – The Plainsrunner – Chapter Thirty-Seven

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Grasswind replies to Sunward’s message.

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Chapter Thirty-Seven – The Reply

Long before they were ready to launch, Seagrass was back and working in the mission control division. It was his body that was damaged, not his mind, and he was fully capable of doing the duties of a Mission Control Specialist. Thanks to Tallgrass he was more capable than most, if not all, of his co-workers. The time the two of them spent on the material ensured that Seagrass was well abreast of developments on the whole, and well ahead in many cases.

The murderer, who was taken alive, claimed to be working alone, and there was no way they could prove otherwise. So, while he didn’t kill and injure those young people at the request of anyone, he did claim to have done it in honor of one of the groups opposed to the space program. There were several of those, and most of them caused trouble and some delays, but only one of them was truly dangerous. Only one of them swore to bring down the space program by whatever means necessary, including all forms of violence. They were linked to numerous attempts, including bombings, successful and aborted. They were totally committed to the exhortations of their leader, willing to take suicide missions to fulfill his ambitions. There were no pictures of him, and no one knew his name, but everyone knew the name of the LLL. The Living Lesson League.

The Living Lesson League believed the legends about destruction falling out of the sky, and they believed that it would happen again if they didn’t learn their lesson from the first time. They believed that it happened all those thousands of years ago because they got above themselves. They built their civilization too high, and their buildings too tall. They used too much technology and removed themselves too far from their natural path. They relied too much on machines and made things too easy for themselves. They presumed to lift themselves into space, which was obviously the domain of the mysterious, all-powerful force that knocked them back down. The League believed all that and its members were willing to sacrifice themselves to save their world from another catastrophe.

It is very hard to fight people who are unselfishly dedicated to an altruistic cause. You can’t talk to them because the only time you see them is when they’re trying to kill you or destroy your work. If you could talk to them you couldn’t reason with them because to them you are at least deluded, and possibly evil, and you are an impediment to their cause. All you can do is try to anticipate and prevent their incursions. When that fails, you just have to hope you can react well enough to minimize the damage, and that you can learn something for next time.

The shooting in the auditorium wasn’t the largest loss of life in a single attack. There were incidents that killed more people, as well as seriously damaging property and equipment. Even so this became the worst attack in the popular imagination, partly because it was so public, and partly because of the important people involved. Dignitaries and other public figures were injured, and it became a very big story. For practical purposes, though, it was the deaths and injuries among the flight crew trainees that made it the worst attack ever. These were special people whose qualifications and training made them almost irreplaceable. So, while their lives weren’t more important than any of the lives lost in other attacks, their loss was harder to overcome.

Because of the nature and the timing of the shooting, the Director never got to make her announcement, and that story was buried for a while by the more violent one. Some people thought that must have been part of the LLL’s plan. Whether or not it was, the effect was the same. The story of the message got lost in the turmoil, and their response to it was delayed.

It wouldn’t stay that way for long, though. The Unified Grasswind Space Program, other scientific bodies, and all the world’s governments had to begin thinking about it, almost before the smell of gun smoke had left the auditorium. Was the message genuine? What did it mean? Should they reply? What should the reply say?

In all it took less than a week to decide. By the end of the fourth day after the shooting they were ready to transmit a reply.

“What does it say?” asked Seagrass. He was lying on his side on a raised pad, tubes and wires running to the devices surrounding it. His voice was weak and he didn’t open his eyes. This was the first time Tallgrass was allowed to visit, and he wouldn’t be staying long. Seagrass had interrupted his commiserations to ask about the message.

Tallgrass didn’t waste time fussing after that. From then on his visits were almost all business. In the early days, news and gossip from the outside world, and especially from the project. Later on, almost all work-related, as he strove to keep Seagrass up-to-date. On this day, though, there was just time for the message. Tallgrass cleared his throat and said, “It’s short, like theirs. It says, ‘Greetings to the people of Sunward. The people of Grasswind received your message with joy. We hope all is well with you.’“

Seagrass was quiet for a moment, then he chuckled softly, wincing with pain as he did. When Tallgrass asked, he said, “Twenty-two words. They sent twenty-three, and we sent twenty-two.” He kept chuckling and wincing.

Tallgrass laughed too, and said, “I wonder if their next message will be twenty-one.” He struggled to keep his laughter quiet.

“Ow, ow, ow,” said Seagrass, helpless to stop laughing in spite of the pain. He opened his eyes and looked at his friend, his expression mixing mirth with agony. “Ow, ow, ow.”

Tallgrass tried to choke down his laughter. He got up and walked over to the window to break the contagious feedback. Behind him he heard Seagrass slowly get control. He stopped saying “ow” and settled into a series of soft moans. When those stopped, Tallgrass walked back to the bedside. “I’m sorry about that,” he said carefully.

Seagrass shifted gingerly on his pad and said, just as carefully, “Don’t be sorry. This is the best I’ve felt in days.”

A nurse came in then and bustled over to read the instruments. He glowered at Tallgrass and said, “You weren’t supposed to get him agitated. You’ll have to leave now.”

“But …” said Tallgrass as he was herded toward the door.

“Keep moving,” said the nurse. “I can’t allow you to disturb my patients.”

Tallgrass gave up and let himself be herded. At the door he stopped and looked back at Seagrass, who was smiling, even though he looked awful. “I’ll come back tomorrow, Sea,” he said.

“Okay,” said Seagrass, flinching from the effort of raising his voice. “Hold on,” he said to the nurse. They waited by the door while he collected himself. Finally he said, “Thanks for coming, T. I’m glad you’re okay.” Then he dropped his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

As the nurse ushered Tallgrass out of the room, he said, “You two must be good friends. When he woke up after the surgery, the first thing he wanted to know was if you were all right.” He stopped in the hallway and faced Tallgrass. “Usually they want to know what happened. Then they want to know if they’re going to be all right. But this one asked after you.” He looked hard into Tallgrass’s eyes. “You have a very special friend there,” he said.

Tallgrass nodded. “I know,” he said. “I’ve always known that, but now, with all this, I really know.” He looked at the closed door. “I could have lost him,” he said. “He threw himself in front of those bullets, and I could have lost him.”

The nurse’s eyes softened and he said, “Maybe he’s chosen a good one. You must have done something right to have a friend like that.”

“Thank you,” said Tallgrass. He nodded to the nurse, took a last look at the door, then walked out of the hospital.