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.
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