From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 37, Tom Accepts A Mission

This is episode thirty-seven of the novel, From Here To 1137 AD. If you would like to purchase From  Here To 1137 AD, it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or paperback. 

Tom Accepts A Mission

“Let me start by saying, I don’t know everything, and neither does Brain,” Gordon said. “I’ll try my best to explain what I know.”

Gordon leaned forward, and so did Tom.

Gordon breathed deeply. “There are thousands, or maybe even infinite numbers of worlds just like this. Each one started at a different time. They progressed independently of the others. And what is amazing is that, except with some minor differences, things in each world progressed at the same rate.”

“Pardon my interrupting,” Tom said, “but how far ahead of us is the planet you are from?”

“Will thousands of years satisfy your curiosity?” Gordon said.

“I suppose,” Tom conceded. “Are there any more advanced than yours?”

“We don’t know,” Gordon said.

“Sorry,” Tom said, “but I just want to know where things are in the pecking order.”

“That’s fine,” Gordon said.

“Please,” Tom said, “go on, I’ll try not to interrupt again.”

“There is a planet,” Gordon said. “Only one galaxy separates that one and this one. Right now, there is a Bales family in the northeast part of England. What you read is what happened a year ago, 1137.  On that planet, now, it is the year 1138. The Bales family, as you know it today on this planet, will not exist in this year on that planet.”

Tom thought for a moment. “That’s sobering.” He turned his head to hide his mournful appearance.

“Why am I emotional over a world so far away that it will never affect me?” Tom said. “Until now, I did not even know that world existed.”

“It exists as real as you and I,” Gordon said.

“You knew this was coming,” Tom said curiously. “And you allowed it by not providing the truth. I didn’t ask for my ancestry in another universe. In fact, on that other planet, it’s not even my ancestry.”

“Nevertheless, it affects you,” Gordon said.

“Sure, I can’t help but think they are a part of me and my heritage. It’s like suddenly you have discovered you have an identical twin and you were separated at birth.”

Tom squinted and slowly tossed his head back as if suddenly grasping and uncovering a secret. “It’s all planned, isn’t it?”

Gordon nodded solemnly. 

“Why?”

“We,” Gordon began, “and everyone on the master ship took a vow when we escaped our planet to never directly interfere in other civilizations. When taking the vow, we had no idea problems might arise that would cause us to question our vows. However, we reasoned we could influence others with the strongest persuasion possible.”

“And that led you to me,” Tom said.

“Yes,” Gordon confirmed, “in an awkward manner.”

“There is more to tell, right?” Tom said.

“We must prepare that world for the future,” Gordon said. 

“The future being that when that civilization arrives at this year, an unassuming and naive farmer named Tom Bales must be ready to receive and work along with someone named Gordon from a distant galaxy.”

“That’s right,” Gordon said. “It can’t be left to chance. Samuel and Katy Bales of that civilization must have a boy just like you.”

“And where do I figure into all of this?”

“You voluntarily travel to that galaxy and planet, and intervene. You must stop the murder of the 12th century Thomas Bales.”

“So why don’t we just disappear the Count?” Tom asked. “End of story.” He slapped his hands as if dusting away dirt.

“I’m asking you to volunteer,” Gordon said and became very somber, “because by a vow, an oath, I cannot directly be involved.”

“Aren’t vows and oaths broken all the time?”

“My comrades and family on the ship; all we have between us is our word,” Gordon said. 

“But you are depending on me to do what is objectionable for you to do.”

“We would have no problem taking any means necessary,” Gordon said. “Except for our vow. You have not made such a vow, and yet you have the moral clarity and right to do what is needed.”

“This sounds more than preserving a lineage. It sounds as if you are asking me to prevent a universal catastrophe.”

“Recall,” Gordon said. “I said, I or we don’t know everything. If our enemies should, in some unforeseen or unpredictable way, be able to capture us or another version of us, we cannot imagine what the outcome might be.”

“I wish you could give me a little more to chew on,” Tom said. “I’m lost. You are speaking about things I can’t imagine or wrap my head around.”

“Universal domination is what our enemies want,” Gordon said. “It can only be achieved by capturing the master ship or the pod that is in your possession.”

“What would universal domination mean?”

“The freedom of thought and ability to reason on your own will be lost,” Gordon said. “Without that, the civilizations will become stagnant. The folks in Geoffrey and Thomas Bales’ time will be there forever. They will be stuck in the dark ages forever. Or to put it another way, what if a civilization were stuck forever during the years of the Third Reich?”

Tom stared into Gordon’s eyes. He stood and walked around the lounge, and sat back in his chair. He stared again into Gordon’s eyes. “What do I do?”

“You will travel across the next galaxy and into the one after that. You will locate a planet labeled G 110, 832-3012-4. You can be there in five Earth days. That will give you some time to plan, study, and gain an understanding of the civilization you will be visiting.” 

“To be clear,” Tom asked, “I will have all of the pod’s and Brain’s resources available at all times?”

“Certainly,” Gordon assured.

“What else do I need to know?”

“Brain has been provided with everything needed,” Gordon said. “Much of what you do will be based upon your own understanding of things and events. You are visiting a somewhat primitive episode of civilization. That does not mean the people are simple-minded and less cunning. Your real danger might be underestimating them. Prepare yourself as an equal, not a superior.”

“Thanks, Gordon. That is more helpful than you may realize.”

Gordon smiled. “My darter is waiting outside. Do you mind if I go?”

“Hope you didn’t leave the lights on,” Tom grinned.

“I don’t understand,” Gordon said, puzzled.

“You should study my civilization’s concerns a little better.”

Gordon nodded. The pod’s hatch opened, and he exited. 

From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 36, Distant Ancestry

This is episode thirty-six of the novel, From Here To 1137 AD. If you would like to purchase From  Here To 1137 AD, it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or paperback. 

Distant Ancestry

The next day, Tom had nothing to do but toss a few bales of straw to the cattle. He stood in the barn and looked around for something to do. And everything he looked at that needed attention, he decided it might take too long to do. ‘I don’t want to start a project and not finish it,” he thought and grinned.

He walked across the barnyard to the house. It was a typical winter day on the farm. Cold winds swept across the vacant fields. The day was bright, but did not warm the cold bitterness of the biting wind. Except for the familiar surroundings, it could have been on a planet in a faraway galaxy, starved for warmth and life.

His thoughts turned to Edgar. ‘Tristan da Cunha will really feel like another planet to Edgar. It is as remote as can be. I hope the isolation and the diversion will help him adjust his thinking. I hope he becomes the man he was raised to be.’

As the morning dragged on, he found little to occupy his mind. Farmers who were not employed with other endeavors often collected at local cafes and sipped coffee. Tom was still too young for that crowd. To them, he was a calf among bulls. He couldn’t say anything that the seasoned farmers didn’t already know. And he always felt the conversation stopped when he entered the room. They thought they knew the condition of Tom’s farm’s financial difficulties and hovered in thought like buzzards over roadkill. 

In the house, he slid an old picture album from a bookcase. It was filled with old photos of family, unknown to him. On the front page of the album was a history of the Bales family dating back to 1793. 

‘Brain can assist me with more,’ Tom thought. 

He slung on his coat and stepped into his boots, and walked to the pod and entered.

“Brain,” Tom said, “I want you to help me with a little project.”

“I will assist where it is possible,” Brain said.

Tom grabbed hold of an electronic tablet from a small table and sat in a cushioned chair.

“Okay, Brain,” Tom said, “provide the genealogy of my family, bearing the Bales’ name back to its first recording, and have it organized on the tablet. And include all the information available.”

“Give me one minute and twenty-seven seconds,” Brain said.

Tom strolled to the replicator and ordered a cup of coffee and a cream cheese Danish.

He returned to the lounge and sat again. In the middle of his second bite, the tablet filled its screen with texts.

“Thanks, Brain,” Tom said and took a sip of coffee.

“You will find a lot of information about your ancestors,” Brain said.

Tom delved into the organized narratives and accounts of generations of ancestors with fascination and interest. For the next week, he read at his leisure. He became charmed with their exploits, whether they were tragedies or triumphs. The Bales were a quiet heritage, slithering through the events of time with little notice and yet with great courage and will.

After a week, he relaxed on a cushioned chair in the pod’s lounge. He glanced ahead of the text and discovered he had arrived at the end, the first recorded name of the Bales’ ancestry. He arrived in the year 1137. He smiled; the first entry, Geoffrey Bales. An asterisk accompanied the name. Tom scrolled to the footnote.

“Geoffrey Bales was killed by the sword of Count Drake Bouchard in 1137. Thomas, his son, in an effort to avenge his father’s death, was also killed by Count Drake Bouchard in 1139.”

“Brain,” Tom said, “Explain this asterisk to the names Geoffrey and Thomas Bales in 1137 and 1139.”

There was an unusually long pause. Tom waited, but before he was able to ask again, he heard a beep over the sound system.

“Incoming voice transmission,” Brain said.

“Connect,” Tom said.

“Tom, this is Gordon, permission to come aboard.”

“Come aboard,” Tom said.

The hatch opened, and Gordon walked in.

“Welcome aboard,” Tom said.

“Thanks,” Gordon said. “It’s good to be aboard and see you again.”

“What brings you back?” Tom asked and ushered Gordon to the lounge. 

They sat in the lounge, each in his own chair.

“I’m able to gather information from your pod’s information system about your activities, and I thought it might be best for me to come by and contact you personally to see if there is anything I can help you with, beyond what Brain can do.”

“I’m doing fine,” Tom said. “Some problems and excitement, but Brain has been more than helpful, he’s, sorry, I mean it’s, been invaluable.”

Gordon chuckled. “That’s no problem. It’s hard to think of Brain as a machine.”

 “I hope you’re not here to tell me that I’m in danger,” Tom said inquiringly.

“Actually,” Gordon said, “I am pleased with what you have accomplished and handled delicate situations with surprising acumen.”

“I feel flattered,” Tom said. 

“By no means,” Gordon said, “I’m sincere.”

Tom changed moods and became vitally serious. “Come to think about it, you can help me with something. I asked Brain about my genealogy. It seems like a simple request to me. It has never been hesitant at any time, but I seemed to have stumped him, I mean it.”

“Yes,” Gordon said, “I know. A signal went out to me nearly a week ago. I thought something might come up. I decided it would be best to handle it myself.”

“I can’t believe that I’ve come up with something that Brain could not handle. I’ve impressed myself.”

“The inquiry is concerning an ancestor, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Geoffrey Bales, one of your ancestors, was killed in a fencing duel by Count Drake Bouchard in 1137. Soon after that, two years later, Thomas Bales was killed by the same Count Drake Bouchard.”

“So, Thomas was killed after the birth of a son, and his son was able to carry on the family name,” Tom surmised. “There seems to be some sort of gap.”

Gordon hesitated. He tried to read Tom’s frame of mind. “That did not happen on this planet,” Gordon said. “On this planet in 1137, Bouchard was killed by invading Norsemen. The sword fight never occurred, and the family name continued through Thomas Bales and so on. That’s why you are here, today.”

“So why does this record say something differently?” Tom asked.

From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 35, Edgar Changes Professions

This is episode thirty-five of the novel, From Here To 1137 AD. If you would like to purchase From  Here To 1137 AD, it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or paperback. 

Edgar Changes Professions 

The pod sat down, shrouded, in the vacant winter cornfield. Tom exited it and walked to the house. 

Tom wanted to consider Edgar’s future. He sat on a cushioned rocker in the living room. His dad and then his mother occupied that chair many times. They would glance out the large window to the right and stare at the road running in front of the house. Across the road, another field stood silent on a cold gray winter day. He imagined this was the place where they reasoned problems into a corrective course. It is where they sat when time was needed to figure things out.

He thought about Edgar. It was useless to figure out why he ended up in a gambling scheme. The short conclusion was a weakness, or perhaps—perhaps he wanted to win enough money to pay off his debt to the farm. He knew enough about Edgar that he very seldom took credit for something good or kind. He recalled Edgar saying one time that goodness and kindness are for those without the imagination to make it in the real world. And that nobody good or kind makes it to the top.

‘That’s what college did to him,’ Tom thought. ‘He wasn’t raised that way. When he left home, he hugged us all and cried. When he visited, he was arrogant and crude at times. Dad and Mom made excuses. They said he was studying too hard, and after college, he’d be himself again. But Dad and Mom never saw the side of him that I saw. He wasn’t a big brother. His behavior, to me, was cruel and oppressive.’

‘I cannot allow those things to overshadow the fact that he is my brother. He needs help.’ 

Two days passed—two days of thought. 

During that time, Tom replaced the bed of a wagon. Several of the boards showed signs of extensive rotting. He envisioned himself stepping through a rotted board and being in a cast for six weeks. 

After finishing the job, he put away the tools and took a moment to pridefully survey his work. He then closed the barn door and headed for the house. 

In the kitchen, he heated a bowl of tomato soup and a toasted cheese sandwich. The phone rang. He put the dishes in the dishwasher and answered the phone on the wall.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Tom, this is Edgar. I’m in Cape Town, South Africa.”

“What’s the weather like?” Tom asked, happy to hear from Edgar.

“Incredible,” Edgar said.

“You sound good.”

“I feel good,” Tom said.

“What about Tristan de Cunha?”

“That’s why I called,” Edgar said. “I’m about to board a cargo ship for there. It will take around five days to get there.”

“I’m glad you called. Pay close attention. I have something very important to say.”

“Okay,” Edgar said, “go ahead.”

“When you get to the island, find the island’s administrator. Introduce yourself. He will be glad to see you. You have applied for a teaching position at the island’s school.”

“I did what!?” 

“You applied nearly a year ago. At the beginning of your final year of law school, you met a man named Durwood Ambrose. He taught on the island several years ago. You were so fascinated by his experience that you made it your goal to teach there someday.”

“What in the world?” Edgar said. “I’m not a teacher.”

“You have taken some required courses that qualify you to teach.”

“I’m not a teacher,” Edgar repeated.

“For right now, you’re not a lawyer either. Being a lawyer or a teacher, it’s about communicating information, ideas, and persuasion. You sat through enough classes to know how to teach.”

“You sound as if they know I’m coming,” Edgar said.

“That’s right. They are expecting you.”

“How did this all happen?” Edgar asked.

“Edgar, trust me.”

“Do I have a choice?” Edgar said.

“Here’s what happened,” Tom began to explain. “I had some documentation sent from the UK to Tristan da Cunha. It approves you to teach at their school. It gives you something to do. You can’t stay on the island with nothing to do and no visible means of support. The documentation sent shows that you are certified to teach.”

“I don’t get this, Tom. How do you manage to accomplish all these things? It’s like you have connections with the CIA or something.”

“Just do what I told you to do. Don’t mention anything about New York.”

“Is this going to be my career?” Edgar asked.

“That’s up to you,” Tom chuckled. “Who knows, you may like it.”

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” Edgar sardonically.

“No, Edgar, I’m not. There’s no fun  knowing your brother’s life is in danger.”

“By the way,” Edgar said. “I got mugged in San Jose. But I think you already know that. I think you had a hand in the money being returned to me.”

Tom remained silent.

“Geez,” Edgar said, “something is going on here that I can’t even begin to fathom. I’m not even sure you’re my brother. Frankly, I don’t know if I should be scared of Grasso or more scared of you.”

“All I can say, Edgar, is that you’re my brother.”

“I’ll get in touch when I’m settled in on Tristan da Cunha.”

“Have a safe voyage,” Tom said.

“Thanks,” Edgar said.

And they hung up.