fAR fREEDOM
Part 1
KESHONA
A. Warren Merkey
Copyright 2015 A. Warren Merkey
revised July 2017
License Note
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
It may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
Dedicated to my wife
Cynthia
without whose encouragement
the story would remain unwritten.
Part 1: KESHONA
1-01 A Little Night Music
1-02 1988CE - Two Brown Envelopes
1-03 2090CE - Constant
1-04 January 5, 1986CE
1-05 2687CE - Invisible
1-06 1980CE - Meeting Sam
1-07 Voices in the Wilderness
1-08 Twenglish in Skivvies
1-09 Night Visitors
1-10 Breakfast on a Forbidden Planet
1-11 A Reunion of Strangers
1-12 Endarkenment at Fudlump's Bar
1-13 Dinner Invitation
1-14 Denna
1-15 The Sleeper Awakes
1-16 The Singer Awakes
1-17 Dinner with Etrhnk
1-18 Collateral Death
1-19 The Golden Visitor
1-20 Digging Graves
1-21 An Algebra of Ethics
1-22 Dreams of Funerals
1-23 Tundra in Pink Tile
1-24 Calling the Moon
1-25 Losing a Father and a Daughter
1-26 1980CE - We Are All Connected
1-27 In the Emerald City
1-28 Prisoner Exchange
1-29 Rescue Mission to Oz
1-30 The Lady in the Mirror
1-31 The Mother Earth Opera
1-32 Feathers and Stripes
1-33 1981CE - Parental Disapproval
1-34 1981CE - A Convenient Marriage
1-01 A Little Night Music
Thump! A bass note from a stringed instrument punctures momentary silence, warbles quickly back to silence, followed by laughter from a few human beings. Black spike-heeled shoes tap out quick small steps on a white floor and stumble to an ankle-turning stop as though halted by the laughter.
"Who is that?" a woman's luxurious but unsteady voice queries.
A pair of shiny black men's shoes approaches and seems to steady the spike-heeled shoes.
"Dick," a deep voice replies.
"He can't do that...can he?"
"Are you sober yet?"
A distant voice speaks nonsense, followed by another low string note that rises in pitch, setting off a short phrase of music on the bass.
Black shoes and spike heels walk slowly away, toward the low bass notes. Woman in spike-heeled shoes wears a white satin dress that closely fits her shape and leaves much of her spine and pale skin bare. Black-shoes man wears a black suit of a style popular in many prior centuries.
"They're coming," the bassist announces. "That's a relief. I'm out of material and was about to start reading the wine list aloud." He bows to the man and woman. He is dark of complexion, wears dark glasses, and his suit and shoes are black and identical to the attire of the other man.
Other man is also dark-skinned. He approaches and pulls the opaque glasses from the bassist's eyes. The eyes are so pale they almost gleam in the soft stage lighting. "It is Dick!" other man declares and puts the glasses back in place on the bassist's face. He turns and seats himself at a piano next to the bassist. Pale woman in white satin puts a hand on the shoulder of the bass player and looks up at his unreadable face. He nods to her and lets a brief smile curl his thin lips. Bassist strikes a loud note on his string bass. Pianist follows with a noisy chord progression sprinkled with the hint of melody. White-satin woman's voice flows from everywhere and rises into simple melody made profound by the quality of her voice. Several people in the audience nod and smile knowingly to each other. As the music continues the audience grows quickly larger, with tables and seated patrons gliding into position near the small stage.
Somewhere back beyond the audience of the dinner theatre an image wall provides a window onto the reality far outside of the city which contains this intimate dinner theater. The contrast range of the window display is greatly flattened to bring into view objects of varying size, brightness, and distance. The most common objects are stars, which are brightened to compete with the large sunlit cities that cluster before the distant crescent moon. These cities in space contain the dwellings of perhaps ten billion human beings. A few million live on - and in - the moon. In another unseen cluster of space cities beyond the moon live many more billions of humans. The earth is not in this view and only a few thousand people live there.
The musicians near the end of their first song. It is also near the end of this part of their lives. The bassist is not easily provoked into humor because he is part Essiin. Logic and humility rule his life. His people are the most peaceful human faction. The pianist is part Rhyan, that ancient diaspora of humanity with a past as violent as Earthians, but music is his life. Both men have the same Essiin father. The singer was born on earth and her parents are long dead. And she has lost someone.
In another few decades these three musicians will kill millions of people, in order to save billions. And that is already a long time ago.
1-02 1988CE - Two Brown Envelopes
"Lee!"
"Tony." Lee Chung-Hee, walking slowly, stopped walking and turned around. His shoulders slumped inside a dirty yellow guayabera shirt two sizes too large for his body. To Tony it seemed Lee had shrunk physically as his spirit had died. The old Korean looked down at the hat in Tony's hand. "Is that my hat?" His voice was rough and his eyes squinted upward to Tony's face.
"And your glasses," Tony said, handing the straw hat to Lee. "Minji said to wear it."
"Hate to get it sweaty," Lee said, taking the wide-brimmed hat and putting it on. "You need a hat, too."
"Yeah." Tony handed the pair of glasses to Lee and rubbed his own sweaty buzz-cut hair.
The two men stared very briefly at each other's troubled eyes and resumed walking as if reacting to what they saw. The paved and patched asphalt street weaved between large oaks and small homes in a retirement trailer park.
"How is Lucia?" Lee asked.
"She still cries a lot," Tony answered reluctantly. "Almost anything can trigger her tears. Minji seems... I don't know... She didn't say much. How is she doing?"
"I wish she would cry," Lee said. "She refuses to believe..."
"Do you... believe?" Tony asked.
"Samuel was our only child," Lee said, coughing to relieve the stress in his voice. "I am losing hope."
"Don't stop hoping!" Tony tried to say it angrily but sounded plaintive. "My son William is investigating. And I've got friends who may know somebody who knows somebody."
"You told your daughter Carla?" Lee asked.
"Yes. She's coming. Maybe Carla can help calm Lucia. I can't seem to help her. My wife doesn't hold her emotions inside. I hope Lucia doesn't upset Minji."
"Minji and I like Lucia very much," Lee said. "She can't make us hurt more than we do now."
"Speaking of hurting more," Tony said, pulling a folded-up brown envelope from the back pocket of his khaki shorts, "do you want to read our letter from the Air Force?"
"No, no!" Lee replied painfully. "I'm sure it is the same as ours!"
Tony put the brown envelope back.
They continued walking. The narrow street would eventually bring them back to Lee's trailer.
"My daughter," Tony began and stopped. "Damn! Why do I even open my mouth, when anything I say will just hurt everyone?"
"A truly wonderful young w
oman," Lee responded, glancing with more concern at Tony.
"Yes," Tony agreed. He breathed deeply and sighed.
"Samuel said Milly was a genius," Lee added. "The real thing. I trust my son's judgment."
"I had not," Tony began, lost his voice for a moment, then continued. "I had not thought of her that way."
"Half of our sorrow is for Milly," Lee said in a wavering voice. "She was very special."
"As was your son," Tony said. "When Sam played the piano at the wedding reception, he shocked me! I realized then how even more special and talented he was."
"That expression on Milly's face," Lee said, "when Samuel finished playing, and she looked at everyone and smiled so proudly. Her expression was saying: See? See why I married him? It made me proud, too. I had never appreciated his musicianship until that moment."
"Milly was in awe of Sam," Tony said. "I could hear it in her voice when she talked about him."
Lee Chung-Hee stopped walking, placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, and squeezed. "You are a good friend, Tony. Your words make me feel that Minji and I did well with our son. Together, you and I will survive this tragedy."
"Thank God, Minji and Lucia are stronger than we are," Tony said, patting the other man's hand that remained on his shoulder. Their troubled eyes met again and looked away again.
"Yes," Lee agreed, dropping his hand from Tony's shoulder.
The two men followed the street back to the mobile home where Lee and Minji lived. Tony had parked the car not far away, near the mailboxes at the entrance to the mobile home park. Tony sat down on one of the chairs in the screen-covered patio attached to the trailer, put his elbows on his knees, and hung his head to stare at the concrete floor.
"I feel a little better," Tony said to Lee, sitting up and trying to look better than he was. "It wasn't a mistake to come visit you and Minji."
"I am now also glad you and Lucia came,"