Mark McGinnis - The Simpleton

Kyle said, “We’re going to have to leave her. I’m sorry, little brother, but—”

“You were going to leave without me?”

Hearing Jackie’s scolding voice, all three spun around to see her, standing at the entrance to the bridge. One hand rested on her hip, and she wore a defiant expression that flustered Cuddy. He looked out the window but could no longer see Brian.

“Is he out there?” Kyle asked.

Cuddy, resuming his seat, shook his head. “He’s gone.”

“Actually… he’s not,” Jackie said. “He’s decided to come with us. Wants to stay with me. I couldn’t talk him out of it.”

Cuddy looked past Jackie and saw the somewhat older man, now standing close behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder.

“Shit!” Kyle yelled, pointing toward the tree line. “Troops!”

Cuddy saw them too. The Army guys had arrived—some moving right, some left—as if to surround the ship. Three soldiers were moving forward—toward the still open hatch.

Gunfire erupted from all around the ship. Cuddy was well aware the Evermore was practically impregnable—bullets would have zero effect. Then he stopped to listen to the sounds that were not gunfire. Barking. Rufus was barking. Cuddy hurried to the side window and peered out. He saw the end of the gangway below and Rufus there—noisily holding his ground against the approaching soldiers. Paralyzed with fear, Cuddy was unable to speak or move—he simply watched in horror as the old dog was getting more and more riled up.

Cuddy heard both Kyle and Jackie screaming for Rufus to come back inside. Only then did Cuddy pull himself free from his frozen stupor. He ran out of the bridge and into the main open cabin. He pushed Tony and then Brian out of the way. Reaching the open hatch, he wedged himself between Jackie and Kyle standing there—where he saw three helmeted men closing in—all dressed in black with protective combat vests. All three had their automatic weapons raised. Instinctively, Cuddy flung his hands out toward them—while dispatching a tremendous wave of energy. All three attackers were sent up and backwards—as if an invisible cord had yanked each of them away—out of sight, deep into the trees.

Only then did Cuddy see Rufus. He was lying on the gangway. There was blood at his midsection—obviously he’d been shot. No longer concerned with the other soldiers and sound of increased gunfire, he hurried down the ramp—slid his two arms beneath the injured dog and lifted him up. Turning back to the ship, bullets raked the gangway—he heard the zing of a supersonic round passing within an inch of his left ear.

Even before clearing the hatch, Cuddy used his unique mental abilities to initiate closing it and to retract the gangway. As the hatch slid into place he heard multiple rounds colliding with the outer hull. He looked down at Rufus. His eyes were open and watery. He stood there for a moment not knowing what to do. He looked up to the see the shocked faces of the others. Mentally, he reached out to the orb. What do I do now? He’s dying… please help me.

Jackie took a tentative step forward. “Cuddy… I’m so sorry.”

Cuddy looked down at Rufus and saw what she saw. He was gone. Rufus was gone.

He heard the orb’s words in his head.

Cuddy… you need to get the Evermore into the air. Hurry now. Have someone put the dog down below… he’ll be safe and secure there. I’m very sorry.

Cuddy found Kyle’s eyes. “Take him to the lower sub-deck.” He carefully transferred the dog into Kyle’s now open arms.

“Okay, Cuddy… I’ll take him right now.”

Cuddy saw the tears in Kyle’s eyes and briefly wondered why he himself felt nothing but anger… an internal rage building to an almost uncontrollable level.

He hurried forward—back to the bridge. Tony, right behind him, moved to the side windows. He said, “Sorry man… about Rufus.” He glanced out the window. “Um… those guys out there don’t look happy.”

Cuddy listened to the orb in his head.

Cuddy, you must energize the Evermore ’s thrusters. Using the three, in-line slide controls, slowly bring the thrust levels up, in equal amounts, to the mid-way point. Do so now!

Cuddy found the three sliders off to the left and quickly did as told, repositioning the controls at the mid-point. The Evermore lurched, both up and forward, throwing Kyle and Tony to the deck. Cuddy grabbed on to the console for support. Hearing someone else curse from the main cabin, Cuddy figured it must be Brian.

Not only had he brought the thrust levels up too fast, he hadn’t done so evenly. As Cuddy readjusted the controls, equally lining them up at the mid-point, the ship leveled out and continued to ascend into air space above. He pushed any thoughts about Rufus aside. This was not the time to grieve.

A flood of visual images suddenly filled Cuddy’s consciousness—vectors, coordinates, and calculations of spatial distances. He bent over, as if he’d been gut punched, feeling dizzy. His head hurt. Orb… stop! That’s too much information… I can’t process it all… I don’t understand everything…

You will, Cuddy… the information is now there for you… and you will remember when the time is right.

But how…

Human DNA… 5.5 petabits of data… around 700 terabytes… in a single gram of DNA. The human brain has a remarkable untapped memory storage capacity. Where others, those who have not had multiple sessions within a wellness chamber, do not have the capability to sequence the DNA to retrieve this information… you do.

“Hey, you okay, Cuddy?” Kyle asked, looking concerned. He’d returned from the sub-deck and, like Cuddy, his arms were stained with Rufus’s blood.

Almost as quickly as the pain had struck—it vanished. Cuddy stood up and took in a deep breath. “I’m fine, Kyle.” The spaceship had already reached an altitude of several thousand feet.

“Wicked! I can see the whole town below us,” Tony said.

Kyle threw in, “I’m only sorry we didn’t tell Momma… didn’t say goodbye to her.” Cuddy, glancing over at him, said, “We’ll be back.”

“We’d better come back. I didn’t sign up for any one-way trip,” Brian said, still standing at the entrance to the bridge.

No one replied to his comment.

Cuddy only knew he was mentally directed to perform the job at hand—getting the Evermore ever deeper into space. Now, as he became more and more familiar with the board—the controls, the information dump he’d last received from the orb not only became crucial—but relevant. As if inwardly glancing, not dissimilar to looking at a computer’s hard drive file system—Cuddy saw the type of information that had been transmitted in to his brain… into his very DNA. Certainly every aspect of how to pilot this ship as well as what would be required for its maintenance—it was all there.

The others had now moved away from the windows and were staring at the Viewscape display. Looking over his shoulder, he saw them studying both him and the display. He leaned over and pulled on the diagonal ends—increasing the virtual display size—making it easier for them to view. The nearly transparent outline of the Revenge let them know that it too was ascending, and was close by.

“So why don’t you tell us what you’re doing… what’s going on?” Jackie asked.

He wasn’t aware she’d moved, was now standing so close to him. He smelled the faint scent of strawberries—probably from the shampoo she used.

“I’m being guided by the orb, doing what it instructs me to do.”

“You mean… like mentally… psychically?” Brian sneered cynically. He stepped up close behind Jackie, cupping his hands on her shoulders. A possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Cuddy.