A few months passed.
James sailed, taking work here and there, making deliveries. The world was on the move, but the people came and went from his life. It wasn’t a hardship for him, as that was most of his adult life already… But he missed having a crew. Atxi had helped out with the Reconstruction where she could, but she didn’t have much luck making friends. Irsu had kept in contact with her, of course; but his new assignment was further away. Irsu was the only one that respected Atxi’s choice to avoid all discussion of gods and goddesses. Everyone else was determined to preach to her; and that was wearying.
Walter got to work.
~oo00oo~
The Recycling Centre was larger than Walter expected. He wasn’t sure if it was a typical Recycling Plant that had been upgraded and expanded, or something started over from scratch after A-Day, but it made no difference. Hundreds of Trucks were coming in and out. A lot of them were carrying people.
There was no security, and the places with heavy equipment had plenty of safety gear being handed out freely, and all sorts of signs about using the equipment, or who to contact for training.
“A new face.” A young man observed.
“Same one I’ve always had.” Walter said to him, studying his face carefully. “You’re young.” He said decisively. “Everyone looks young here, but I’ve met people who claim to be centuries old. You don’t look the type.”
“Twenty six years last month.” He stuck out a hand. “Ward.”
“Walter.” The older man returned the handshake. “So, how long you been working here?”
“Just a day or two.” Ward nodded. “You ever see the place before?”
“I’ve seen Recycling Plants before, but this is a little different…” Walter looked around. “Way more people than I thought there’d be.”
“Recycling is what they do over there in the south Campus.” Ward pointed at the older looking area. “Paper and cardboard products. Over there, we’ve got the plastics, being sorted for Stage Two.”
“What’s stage two?”
“Some plastics can be recycled. Some takes five centuries to break down. We’re Reclaiming and Restoring everywhere on earth that we can get to. But the stuff we can’t recycle has to pass into dust on its own. If that stuff leeches into the ground, or the water table, we’ll never be rid of it. So we bring it all here, and keep it stored in a place that won’t be disturbed for five centuries. By the halfway point of the Thousand Years, we won’t be using disposable plastics in anything. Not anymore.” Ward shivered. “Plastic is made from oil. It was already running out when A-Day came. We can build clean power fairly easily now, but it’s everything else we have to find new ways for. Every bag, every container...”
Walter nodded. “I must admit, garbage piles were something I never considered when thinking about eternal life.” He gestured at the floorplan. “What about the South Wing?”
“South Campus isn’t for Recycling, it’s for Upcycling.”
Walter frowned. “I don’t follow.”
Ward explained it. “You ever see leftover cinder blocks and planks of wood get turned into a bookshelf? You ever see an empty jam jar get turned into a drinking glass? Imagine a half million people taking apart abandoned buildings and looking for things specifically for that.” Ward smiled broadly. “That’s why I’m here. I like making things like that.”
“Who do you sell to?” Walter asked.
“Oh, I have a stall out at the markets.” Ward nodded. “It’s more of a pet-project than a career. I like doing it. I’ve always enjoyed making things.”
Walter felt his face settle into the familiar pose he would wear during a negotiation. Friendly, but giving nothing away. “Ward, how’d you like to have a list of dedicated customers for your products; and get paid a wage for it?”
“Why do I need a wage?” Ward countered. “I don’t need much income, given that the stuff I use doesn’t cost anything. It’s out there, just waiting to be collected.”
“And it’s being collected by hundreds of people.” Walter countered. “Maybe thousands of people. They see junk. You see potential for practicality, even beauty. And not only do you see it, you can make it happen. That’s a rare talent. I have a talent for seeing potential too.” He gestured at the whole complex. “These people? They’re not expecting to make a profit on their labor; and there are hundreds of them. What I’m offering you will be small, at first; but it will grow.” He pushed it a little further, making his tone more personable. “You said yourself, you like doing this, and you don’t need a lot of income. Isn’t that what Paradise is all about? Doing what you love, sharing it with more people?”
It was clear that Ward was thinking about it.
Walter was about to press him a little further, when his Device buzzed with an incoming message. Walter checked the screen absently, not really caring, until he saw the name on the message.
~oo00oo~
Townsend opened the door before he could knock, inviting him in immediately. “Good to see you, Walter.”
Walter came in, in shock. Townsend looked twenty years younger than the last time they’d spoken. His house wasn’t any larger or more elaborate than any other he’d seen. It was tastefully appointed, with a few hints of its owner’s eye for the finer things. No first editions, but there was a bookshelf with leatherbound books. Only one or two titles that Walter knew. No designer clothing, though the clothes he had were reminiscent in style of the fine suits they used to wear. No kitchen full of expensive appliances, though there was a coolroom with some fine cheeses, and a few wine bottles.
“Will it pass muster?” Townsend asked him wryly, aware of his scrutiny.
“I was stunned when I found out you’d been here all this time.” Walter said quietly.
“Not that long. Less than ten years.” Townsend corrected. “Why? You didn’t think I’d make it to this world? I died, I came back. Like everyone else.”
“No, not that.” Walter shook his head. “I mean, if I could get here, you certainly could. But I figured if people like us were a part of this world, then I’d have heard your name spoken at some point.” He gestured at Townsend’s features. “So, you joined up.”
“I did.” Townsend nodded. “It was an easy choice, once I realized this world was the real thing. I have to admit, I never saw it coming.”
“Neither did I.” Walter admitted.
The two of them chatted for a while, with Townsend telling his story. The food was excellent, as always; but Walter couldn’t help but notice there was no apparent household staff. Townsend had always had a skilled chef… But now he was cooking for himself?
“What did you mean, before?” Townsend asked after a moment of silence. “That bit about how ‘you’d have heard my name’?”
Walter shrugged. “I figured that if people like us found eternal life, we’d be running things soon enough. This world can’t be that different. Two hundred years isn’t that long.”
“You’d be surprised.” Townsend chuckled. “But no, I have no interest in rebuilding the old empire.”
“Why not?”
“You ever hear the story of the billionaire and the fisherman?” Townsend quipped. “A billionaire meets a man who makes his living catching fish in a little boat during the day, and stretching out in his hammock on the beach at night. The billionaire tells him that if he worked harder, sold his surplus, charged a little more, bought some more boats; and then he could build a huge financial security for himself… And then settle down to go fishing all day, and stretch out in his hammock on the beach all night.”
Walter snorted.
“I have a hammock out back, and the lake may not be a beach, but it’s perfect.” Townsend said with a contented smile.
Walter shook his head.”I don’t buy it. People like us don’t change, Townie. We get beaten, or we get eaten, but we don’t stop.”
“I shared a similar thought when I first arrived in this world.” Townsend said quietly. “They showed me Luke 12. It was a verse about being anxious over having enough to get by. But that meant nothing to me. It doesn’t worry you either, does it?” Townsend said lightly. “Because you already know that you’re not going to starve. We’d never let anyone go without clothing and shelter. You’re after something else entirely.”
“Food and clothing were never a measure of success, or even the bare minimums. I already had all that.”
“Billions didn’t.” Townsend said pointedly.
“Now you’re doing it.” Walter scorned. “You sound like the kid they had meet me when I got here. He talked like wanting better for myself was the same thing as wanting everyone else to go hungry. I never begrudged any of the unwashed masses their chance. If they were good enough, smart enough, determined enough… or even lucky enough to win the lottery; then they deserved the good life as much as I did.” Walter forced himself to calm down a bit, reminding himself that he was with a friend. “This world and ours seems to have the same opinion of rich folk.”
“Except for two things.” Townsend countered. “One: This isn’t your world. And two: You’re not rich.” He opened his Bible. “For you, I think the principle is here at Matthew 6:21: ‘For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also’.”
“That’s not divine wisdom, that’s simple logic. People spend their time on what’s most important to them. David thinks I’m hooked on money. He doesn’t get it.”
“Money is a commodity.” Townsend nodded. “Once you have enough that you can’t spend it in twenty lifetimes, it becomes a means to an end.” He gave Walter a pointed look. “And I know what your ‘endgame’ was, Walter.”
“Really?” Walter was surprised. “Mister Milne was quite serious about confidentiality. How did you find out?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Townsend waved that off. “You remember, when I came to see you? Your nurses were surprised you had a visitor. The only people who came to see you back then were your secretary, and your lawyer.”
Walter smiled a little. “You just made my point for me, Old Man. When I went through with the Cryo procedure, I was watching your sudden giveaway on the news. What was it you said? Giving your wealth away was ‘Negotiating for the Ultimate Deal’?”
“I remember.” Townsend nodded.
“And we both wound up here.”
“Yes, we did.” Townsend nodded. “But I don’t think that was my point. I asked the nurses, just to make sure, but they confirmed it. You died alone, Walter. You were in the most expensive, exclusive room in the world’s best hospital, getting the best treatment money could buy, and your suite was empty. They could do nothing for you.”
Walter was notably silent for a long time. “I was useful.” He said finally. “It was enough.”
“You can be useful here. This world values things other than money, but even if you have to change every single thing you’ve ever thought, there is still the potential of every single thing you might yet think in the future. That’s the one resource that we can’t get just by waiting. A different perspective, a differing idea. You always had a knack for figuring out what people wanted. You could use that for a good cause or two here. There’s a lot of soul searching going on in the Returnees nowadays; and we are both uniquely suited to know what doesn’t bring fulfillment.”
Walter let out an epic sigh of disappointment. “I would have thought that you, of all people, would understand.”
“I do understand. But I don’t agree.” Townsend said simply.
“If you don’t agree, then you don’t understand.” Walter answered, just as simple. “Everyone wanted to be us back then. And in time, everyone will want to be us here, too. This is a world where people can become wealthy by putting spare change aside for centuries. A world full of billionaires… Unless we get there first.”
“We?” Townsend repeated. “Don’t rope me in. I’ve got everything I need right here.” He made a pointed gesture. “And so do you. You sank your wealth into cheating death. Now, you’re alive; and Eternity is well within your grasp in a way that pseudoscience couldn’t do.”
Walter looked darkly at him. “Oh, you’re really one of them now, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Walter was about to fire back when he realized he didn’t have an answer immediately on hand.
“Walter, were you happy, back then?” Townsend asked suddenly.
“What do you mean?” Walter asked, honestly confused by the question.
“I mean, were you happy, back then?” His old friend said again. “When you were in the hospital, the only people who cared were the lawyers. When you died, your money went to some Freezer Plant, the last of your personal shares went to your son, and there was less than a three percent dip in the stock.” He let that sink in. “That was the sheer total tonnage of your legacy. When you exalt yourself, then yourself is all you will have.”
Walter was silent for a long moment. “What’s a ‘Legacy’ in a world where people never die?”
Townsend was quiet a moment. “Let me introduce you to someone.”
~oo00oo~
“Franklyn?” Townsend said to a young-looking man by the lake. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet. This is Walter. A friend from OS.”
Franklyn was sitting on a large rock on the shoreline, bare feet kicking in the water a bit. Pleased to meet you.” He smiled serenely at them. “I’m the helpful reminder for people approaching burnout.” He said conspiratorially to Walter. “Pull up a chair.”
Walter squatted awkwardly next to him.
“So, I’m guessing you’re having trouble fitting in.” Franklyn said blandly. “The reason is simple. This world doesn’t play by your rules.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” Walter countered immediately.
“Doesn’t matter.” Franklyn didn’t even blink. “I had the same problem when I first got here. Humans aren’t a complicated species. Our weaknesses never change. It’s either pride, profit, or vice. Which one’s holding you back?”
The young man’s certainty made Walter flinch. The people he’d met since coming here were uniformly humble, polite, unflappable… Franklyn was an Alpha. He was assertive, almost aggressive. “Where were you?”
“Heh.” Franklyn looked back at the lake. “I spent my career telling people they have cancer. And then I came here, to meet all the patients I couldn't save. I wonder if Townsend wants us to talk because I know what it’s like to chase the mirage of a Brass Ring, or because you knew a doctor who couldn’t save you, no matter how much money you threw at him?”
Walter swallowed the first response that came to mind. It wouldn’t have been polite, and he hadn’t heard a single person cussing since he’d arrived in this world. “...Profit.” He said finally. “I’m chasing profit. But it’s not greed, no matter what these people think.”
“No.” Franklyn agreed. “It’s identity. Saying ‘I’m a billionaire’ is like saying ‘I’m a Doctor’. Like that’s the only thing a person needs to know about you.” He plucked a long blade of grass and chewed the end of it lightly. “The people here say that money and pride are traps. I knew that long before I arrived in this world.”
“How so?”
“I was a doctor. A really good one, too. I knew better than most that money can’t save you. Billionaires were begging me to keep death at bay for another day; and sooner or later I lost. That was the nature of the life.”
“You’d be surprised.” Walter said with pride. “I found a way to win… or I would have, if not for… all this.”
It was clear Franklyn didn’t buy that. “Yeah, well… It’s jarring. Half of what these people do is education, getting people into this world and its ways. The other half is therapy, of a sort.”
“Therapy?”
“People have trouble, entering a world where nice guys don’t finish last. Or where you can leave a door unlocked. Or in my case, a world where I wasn’t a doctor anymore.”
“That didn’t make you angry?” Walter asked, wondering if anyone had reacted the way he did.
“Angry?” Franklyn repeated. “I was furious, but not at them. Not at God, either. I was angry at my life.”
“Why?”
"I was practising with medical textbooks for three hours a day when I was four years old. I was getting tutors and private lessons before I was in any other schools, and the kids that I met with my tutors were so competitive that I never knew it wasn't normal.” Franklyn saw the look on Walter’s face and explained. “My father wanted to be a surgeon, and then there was a housefire. He burned his hands getting my mother out of the fire, and she held on just long enough to deliver me. My father lost my mom and his nimble hands in the same day. So he had a stethoscope around my neck before I could walk. If I took his wife and his hands by being born, then he figured the least I could do was live his dream. I'd get my allowance through spot drills. My dad would have Greys Anatomy open when I got home from school, next to a stack of singles. He'd drill me in anatomy, medications, diagnoses... Every time I missed a question, he'd take a dollar away. You have any idea how thick those medical textbooks are? I was twelve years old. Anytime he felt I was slacking off, he'd do another drill. Two hours at a time. Whenever I got sick, he'd make me diagnose myself before he'd let me see a doctor. When I disagreed with their treatment, he'd make me follow my own advice instead of the professional. Said if I was wrong, I'd learn better from the discomfort. All this before I made it to high school."
"What did you want to do?"
"He'd train me in dexterity with guitar. If I could zip through scales backwards, blindfolded, with opposite hands, then maybe I'd be worth something as a brain surgeon. I... I liked to play. But that wasn't an option. I hated that. No options... You know that the other kids who graduated medical school were celebrating? They were happy. They'd conquered Everest, and I was... I was trying to diagnose why I was ready to jump off a cliff."
"But you didn't?" Walter asked carefully. In a world where people came back from the dead, it was never a certainty how a person died.
"No. Finally, to get away from my father, who still ran the spot drills once I was a Chief Resident, then Board Certified, then Chief Surgeon; I volunteered to work in a Mission Hospital. It was a free clinic in a warzone. Some guys came in, looking for drugs. I wake up here, where the entire medical industry is non-existent.” He looked to Townsend. “You remember how I laughed like I had lost my mind? It's because I had lost my mind. All my thinking had been wiped out. Everything that got shoved into my brain, willingly or not, was no longer needed.”
Townsend turned to Walter. “Franklyn was my charge for a while, with nowhere to land. He landed here.”
Franklyn nodded. “He told me that for the first two days, my ‘assignment’ was to watch the sky, from midday to nightfall.”
Walter looked at Townsend, perturbed. “Seriously.”
“No, it turned out to be good advice.” Franklyn put in. “It was the first time I stopped in years. First time, in my life, that I could remember stopping to look at a sunset, look at the stars…” Franklyn smiled. “First time, in my life, that I just… sat still and noticed things.” He smiled at Walter. “There’s a lot to do, Walter. But we’ve got a thousand years to do it. After that, we’ve got a lot more to do; and eternity to do it. If I spend a day doing nothing but listening to the breeze, watching the stars; nobody’s going to disown me.” He gestured at the water. “Walter, you try it.”
Walter looked at the lake, frustrated at their inability to grasp the simplest point he was trying to make. His brain kept running scenarios, trying to win the conversation. What he’d say, what he knew they’d say, how he’d respond. What they might say instead, and how he’d nail them with some subtle point of logic and win them to his side. It was easy. It should have been easy. He was the best negotiator in…
“You’re doing it again.” Townsend’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
Walter looked over. “Doing what?”
“Trying to conquer a world you’re completely unaware of.” Franklyn explained without even looking. “Your eyes are pointed at the lake, but you haven’t seen it since we stopped talking, almost twenty minutes ago.”
Walter was forced to admit this was true. “I don’t mean to appear rude, it’s just… Franklyn, I agree with your father. That world may be gone, but it was a competitive place. You had to be that good, and work that hard, from that early. If you waited until you became an adult to act like an adult, you never would have achieved anything. Me and Townsend may have put some things on hold, but we-”
“I wasn’t happy.” Townsend cut him off quietly. “In OS? I wasn’t happy.”
Walter stared at him. It wasn’t a revelation, but it was an unusual admission. People like Walter and Townsend didn’t concern themselves with ‘happy and sad’, only ‘win and lose’. When someone like them was displeased with life, they took a vacation, or a mistress, or even a designer drug. Something to break up the boredom, but walking away from all of it? That was sacrilege. A blasphemy of the highest order.
“Took me a while to admit to it, but there it is.” Townsend nodded, knowing exactly what Walter was thinking. “I had everything that world could offer, and I wasn’t happy.”
“Neither was I.” Frankyln put in. “I always planned to be. I asked my father about it, and he always said: Happy comes with success. After I graduate High School. After I get into Harvard Medical. After I pay off my debts. After I save my first patient. After I become Chief Surgeon. The goalpost kept moving. Happy came later.”
“For me too.” Townsend chimed in. “I asked my teachers what was most important. They told me it was getting my grades up. I asked my parents. They told me it was most important that I get into a good college. My college instructors told me the most important thing was to get a good posting. My employer said it was to secure my future. All of them, obsessed with what was good for the future, and none of them put happiness, love, or sanity anywhere on the list.”
“Isn’t it the same here?” Walter put in. “Happiness comes from serving God?”
“Happiness is serving God. Happiness isn’t the Reward, it’s the natural by-product.” Townsend put in. “Walter, all our plans, all our blueprints for the future? Franklyn here has double our IQ points, and he never chose a single thing for himself. Ask him if this world is better or worse than the one we escaped?”
“And I’m betting you were the same.” Franklyn challenged Walter. “Your career path was laid out when you were still in school. Every kid in our generations had to decide ‘what they wanted to be when they grew up’ and map their whole career plan, at an age when they still had to ask permission to leave class and use a bathroom. Your whole life, decided before you could vote, cook your own meals, drive a car…”
“Well, yeah, but don’t say it like that.” Walter stammered. “It sounds bad when you put it that way. What about you?” Walter asked his old friend. “What made you turn?”
“If you mean ‘believe’, then it was a pretty simple choice, when it came down to it.” Townsend nodded. “I could either spend my entire first lifetime trying to leverage back what I didn’t have anymore, or I could relax by this lake in an easy chair and spend an infinite number of warm nights counting the stars. Trust me, I made the right choice.”
“People like us aren’t made for retirement, Townie.”
“Nobody ‘retires’ in a world where we live forever young. Don’t confuse ‘being at peace’ with ‘doing nothing’.”
Walter returned to the Lake. “I admit, if I had been in this world, ‘security’ would have been easier, but if there’s one thing worse than being poor and helpless in the old days, it’s the idea that it could last forever in this world.”
“Walter, I haven’t met a single person who needed a begging bowl since I arrived.” Franklyn said. “I woke up to all the patients I couldn’t save. People who had nothing.”
“I have nothing.” Walter said seriously. “I came into this world with the clothes on my back, and I still have nothing but those clothes.”
“And have you gone hungry, even once? Have you slept on the ground, even once? Have you been too cold, or in fear for your safety, even once?”
“I’ll concede that, but I am living on handouts.” Walter said seriously. “I’m living in the Dorms, eating at a communal table. When I can establish myself, that’s when I can give this world my full attention. Including God.”
“Happy comes after.” Townsend and Franklyn chorused with grim irony.
“It’s not the same thing.” Walter insisted. “I have to look to the future, if I plan to live forever.”
“Just… look at the stars for a while, Walter.” Townsend sighed.
Walter looked. The sun had set while they were talking, and Walter had missed the sunset completely. Walter looked up and saw a carpet of stars coming to light, one by one, east to west across the sky. A million stars. A billion stars. The night sky without light pollution, without smog. Walter had never realized it before, but the night sky wasn’t black. The infinite universe illuminated the night enough that he could discern the deep blue tone, with patterns and swirls of light like a gauze. A million pinpricks of luminescence that went from horizon to horizon in a sky so all-encompassing that Walter felt briefly like they were going to fall on him.
My God. Walter thought, and he didn’t even know for sure if he was praying or not. I’ve never looked. Not once, in my life. Walt would have loved this.
That last thought sent a spike through him suddenly; and he shuddered in a way that had nothing to do with the night air. “Franklyn?” Walter said finally. “What did your father think, about your ‘slowing down’ like that?”
Franklyn looked out over the water, face going carefully blank. “My father didn't make it through A-Day."
Walter gave a hooded look to Townsend. “Neither did my son.”
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