Mark McGinnis - The Simpleton

He then thought about Tow—that he would be dying soon—and the thought made him sad as he looked across at the three vacant seats within the chamber. Why did Tow bring me into the chamber for a second session? Tow would soon be gone, but he had mentioned something about a mission… about returning some kind of pod to a distant planet. Would this ship then need a new captain or would the hovering robot be sufficient for that? Cuddy didn’t think so. He may not be as smart as Jackie, but it didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Tow was making him smarter for a reason.

Another five minutes’ time elapsed before the wellness chamber hatch slid open. Tow, standing in the opening, said, “Tell me, Cuddy, how much did you figure out in the last fifteen minutes?” Cuddy saw Rufus, standing at Tow’s side.

“I think… quite a bit of it.”

“Are you angry with me?” Tow asked.

“No… not really. But you’ve made a few assumptions. Namely, that I would agree to help you. That I would risk my life to further your cause… or the cause of the Pashier.”

“They are one in the same, Cuddy. You, your family, Earth, are now entangled in this drama. Again, I apologize for coming here but one fact still remains… this planet is in grave danger.”

“I know that.”

“I want to show you something. Something no one else… no other race of beings in the universe has ever witnessed before. Please… follow me.”

Cuddy stood and instantly regretted he’d risen so fast. He felt dizzy and somewhat nauseous. Tow put out a steadying hand, and said, “I apologize, I extended your session slightly longer than the recommended timeframe. It may take several hours for your equilibrium to fully adjust.” Equilibrium —another word Cuddy was fairly certain he’d never heard of, or used before, yet he knew its meaning just the same.

Tow guided him through several lower deck passageways, moving forward toward the bow. With Rufus by his side, Cuddy felt the dog’s warmth press against his leg. They entered what seemed to be a storage hold area. Until then, Cuddy wasn’t aware the flying robot—what Tow referred to as the AI orb—had followed them in.

Tow said, “AI… open the sub-level hatch.”

“Captain Tow, the human is not authorized. I am tasked with protecting—”

“Update your authorization list so that it includes Cuddy. Do so now!”

The orb went quiet. Cuddy had the distinct feeling the orb did not trust him, and the feeling was mutual. A hidden section of the hold’s deck paneling suddenly descended several inches, then slid to one side. Staring into the blackness below, Cuddy could barely make out the first few steps that led downward.

Tow coughed several times into his hand and, seeming to be in some pain, cleared his throat. Composing himself, he said, “Please respect the space you are about to enter, Cuddy. No loud noises—whisper instead of talking—and you may need to duck your head somewhat; vertically, the ceiling’s height is limited.”

Tow walked toward the opening, then halted before heading down the stairs. “Cuddy… you may not fully understand yet, but bringing you down here is a great honor. An honor and a responsibility.” Tow continued to descend the stairs until he was out of sight. Cuddy heard him say, “You may bring Rufus along with you.”

Cuddy hesitated as the AI orb silently hovered around him before it too descended into the blackness below. He looked around the hold area, unsure if proceeding forward would be such a good idea. He had the uncomfortable feeling that this moment in time was somehow important. A crossroads of sorts, and he wondered why him? Why was he, someone who, until a few hours ago, could scarcely read or write, or remember his address or phone number—singled out by this alien called Tow? Surely, there were far more qualified people… like Momma, Kyle, or Jackie, who were smart; far better—

Cuddy heard Tow’s soft voice emanate up from below. “Please… come down, Cuddy.”

Cuddy, complying, then proceeded to go down. Halfway down the stairway, he felt a breeze gently buffeting his pant legs. Stepping off the bottom step, he leaned forward, hoping not to bang his head, then slowly stood upright to find about an inch of clearance above him. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The breeze down below was cool and smelled fresh—a scent he’d not encountered before that was pleasing. He wondered why it was kept so dark down there; it would be too easy to walk into a bulkhead, or Tow, or the AI orb, if he wasn’t careful. He held out his hands, slowly moving forward, then noticed his two, barely perceptible, glowing hands. Why are my hands glowing?

“This way, Cuddy.”

Cuddy looked to his right, hearing Tow’s voice, and saw the glowing alien gesturing for him to follow. The AI orb was all but invisible—only tiny blinking red and green lights, which gave away its hovering location.

Down there in utter darkness, Tow’s form looked even more beautiful. What Cuddy thought was strictly a bright, glowing-white iridescent form, instead showed subtle hues of blues, pinks, even green. He looked again at his own outstretched hands. Certainly not quite as bright or vivid, nevertheless, the same pastel hues were also present within him. As the orb moved lower, the breeze picked up and a series of sounds—musical tones—filled the space around them. It was beautiful. He closed his eyes and felt something familiar—the feeling he often got when Momma put her arms around him and hugged him tight. The feeling of being protected—nurtured—that everything would be okay.

He opened his eyes and gasped. A sparkling white light was spouting upward, like a water fountain, but it was light glistening instead of water. Brighter and brighter it became and Cuddy could see the outline, just below the light, of what looked like a plant of some sort. He instinctively knew it was the heritage pod, which Tow had spoken about only days before. It looked like a pod—organic in shape and texture—that was slowly opening up at the top. Large leaves curled backward, one after another, then slowly extended outward to eventually come to rest on the lower deck. Layer after layer, the large leaves unfurled and lay flat. The breeze by now had turned into a steady wind. Tiny sparkling lights encircled them, in between them—more lights than he could ever count in a thousand lifetimes. Cuddy had never witnessed anything so beautiful. Kneeling, he put his arm around Rufus, then placed his other palm on his own chest—wanting to feel his own heartbeat. Certain his heart would soon burst. He was barely able to constrain the myriad of emotions springing forth.

Cuddy felt Tow’s hand on his shoulder. “We will sit now.” Cuddy and Tow sat down, and with Rufus’s head in his lap, Cuddy looked left and right. And then he saw it: they were sitting within a spiraling galaxy of slow-moving stars within a massive universe. By squinting his eyes he could see more galaxies, even farther beyond. It was an infinity of stars. And—like the iridescent hues he’d seen in both Tow’s and his own glowing forms—the dazzling, colorful brilliance emanated from out there.

Cuddy was mesmerized. He asked, “Tow… is this heaven? Are you showing me heaven?”

Tow didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said, “I would like you to meet someone very special to me. Would that be all right with you?”

Cuddy, not understanding why Tow felt it necessary to ask his permission, replied, “Sure.” A minute or two passed before Cuddy noticed it, and Rufus’s head came up. A faint distant star—one out of millions or billions—was moving in the opposite direction of the others. Slowly it grew in size and intensity as it sped toward them. Cuddy glanced over to Tow and watched the anticipation register on his face. Smiling—childlike—Tow’s eyes glistened with moisture.