Christian Clarity Review

Jimmy:

Timing is everything. There seems a perfect way to do it. But the timing of it is really the thing.

He waits for the ship to rise again so he will go far and fast enough to really make a splash.

It is more a fall than a jump; more a controlled crash than a graceful plunge into the water. It is the last departure with no one to even say goodbye.

Walking out of the cabin in which they had confined him, he had found his way nearer the water. When no one was looking, he climbed up on the railing and thought about it. He went over as the shift in the ships weight threw him off balance.

The water is very cold; colder than it looks! I told you! It goes everywhere: up his nose, his ears; into his mouth, around his groin; inside his shoes and socks. The effect on his skin is shocking. He can’t feel his fingers.

Everything that has gone before has carried with it a simultaneous camouflage of feelings. For an instant he is caught trying to arrange his feelings; to recognize what is happening and act to counter it. Don’t get punked by this.They will see.

All that has happened has never really been understood because all his attention was on the excitment. His life has been lived but only revealed to him in snatches and around the edges.

As he struggles in the water, his legs kicking the water away so he can go upward and his arms pusing the surface away to go deeper he hears: How could that have happened?!

Knowing it doesn’t change it. Hearing the voice of consternation doesn’t make the water less alien, less cold or wet. Leaving all of it behind, he will deafen himself with death. Some of the voices said they couldn’t reach him on the other side. Others disagree. A suffocating, stabbing pain grips his chest as the water rushes in. He tries to place it in a good feeling and fails. His mouth opens to scream…

—————

The water flees from his mouth.

They see him gasp for air.

“Got him!” Mary says triumphantly, easing off his chest. “We got him back!”

Izzy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He leans over the metal ledge that serves as a small lab and drops the headgear into the locker.

Mary: You did the right thing.

———

Hayt was right: Going down was rough.

After the initial contact on the muddy bottom, they had checked systems as the air cushion deflated. Mike had detected Jimmy in the water. Everything had stopped.

Hayt directs the blasts of air and they are in the sand in seconds. The subterrrene has entered the mud and sand almost vertical and is burrowing straight down quickly. The mud and sand from the ocean floor flow in behind them. At two hundred and ninety seven feet from the ocean floor they hit bedrock.

Hayt brings up the com links. “We’ve docked on the substrate surface and are ready for entry. No damage. No complaints.” He is smiling.

Izzy: What?

Hayt puts his hand over the mike: I love this part. When I was a kid I always imagined myself doing this kind of thing. You know, “stand by to find out secrets”.

Izzy: Is it what you thought it would be?

Hayt: Yes and no.

There is a break of squelch over the com link. “Standby for testing.”

“Roger.” Bill watches the structural integrity tests flash in sequence across the panel overhead.

Radio voice: Standby to engage reactor.

Hayt: Standing by.

Radio voice: Engage reactor.

Bill taps in the code. “Engaging.” A panel appears on the screen. He taps the icon and the panel displays the reactor statistics. “Reactor output within normal levels.”

“Everything is a go. Entry in two minutes.”

“Two minutes. Roger. Setting count down.”

“On mark.”

Bill touches the screen again. “Mark.”

Radio voice: All systems in the green.

Hayt: We’ve picked up a passenger.

There is a silence. Then, “Say again.”

Hayt: We’ve picked up a tourist. It was that or a casualty.

Radio Voice: Roooger that. Standby. Entry is still a go.

Bill toggles off the com link for an instant and smiles at Izzy. “Damn right it is. They ain’t gonna try and turn off the reactor now. Not that they couldn’t—but we’re in the groove now.”

The operator in Virginia punches up another screen.

Jack Wallace turns from the map of the site in his office and picks up the phone. “Yes?”

Radio Voice: They’ve picked up a tourist.

Jack: They what?

Radio Voice: Apparently someone from the ship. They said it was that or they would have left a casualty.

Jack: I want a name at the first opportunity. I want to know why.

Radio Voice: Yessir.

Jack: Proceed.

Jack slowly placed the receiver onto the base.

“What?”

Jack approaches the map again and stares at the encircled corridor. “They picked up a passenger. A rescue.”

“What’s his name?” The other man speaks easily and without haste.

Jack: Who said it was a he?

The other man says nothing but smiles.

The controller taps a code and the screen disappears. He taps up the Enigma’s com screen again.

Radio Voice: Good luck.

Hayt: Now we’ll see how the new temp controllers really do. Everything looks good from here. We’re a go for entry.

They slowly move forward, silently melting into the rock.

Albrite looks shaky.

Hayt: “As soon as we’re horizontal you can get out of the seats.”

Twenty minutes later they begin to check equipment.

Albrite unbuckles cautiously. “Well, so far so good. Everything seems to be working.”

“You can’t really say so far it’s been good. What are we going to do with that guy? He’s going to require ’round the clock attention–if he survives. We haven’t even gotten started good and we’ve got extra weight!” Gregg is doing a diagnostic on the electronics.

“We’ll make out with what we have. We might be bringing back more wounded than just him. It’s what we’re doing here. End of discussion.” says Izzy.

Mary leans over Jimmy who is strapped to a bunk. Wiping his face again, she checkes his eyes. One pupil is large, the other is tiny.
“He’s had a stroke. His right side may be paralyzed for a while, maybe even permanantly.”

“Sent our coordinates home. We’re all present and accounted for–with a little extra thrown in. Sorry to mention food, but you pulled that drill on us kinda quick don’t you think, Izzy? We didn’t even get a last meal.” Hayt says, ducking into the main compartment.

Izzy: Better this way. Besides, some of us might not have been able to keep down what they ate in all the excitment.

Albrite: It’s not my fault I have a nervous stomach.

The subterrene moves on, silently melting deeper and deeper as the crew sets up for the journey.

————————————————————————-

Homam

Things are getting tense. The news is full of more Islamic jihadist’s growing bolder in their killing; in their rhetoric.

There is something he can do.

——–

He listens to the man speak with mild curiosity on the off chance he will say something new.

Speaking with people is always the same: They do the things you did or should have done when you said it. They are a mirror and don’t mind making it obvious. They can’t help it. They do things you used to do when you first encountered the same thing you just said; your side of the conversation.

Homam can’t do first things any more. He tries every now and then to remember as if really hanging on to the feeling whenever it hit. He tries sometimes to do the expected new thing again to prove he is a harmless novice at life.

But it is really gone and his fingers are really stained with nicotine.

In the middle of nodding and smiling to what they say in reply it hits him: he is old in more than one thing; has got multiple histories within the whole. They are reflecting him then at some particular (but really at various points—the him stretched over all the years) and thinking it is him now. They are being one with who he used to be and true in that solidarity. They have taken who he used to be for a friend in the particular of which they speak and missed him completely. It makes them smile, wave him over to a cushion and offer him tea.

The coin falls out of his hand and onto the counter with a heavy sound unlike modern coins. He is no longer a prisoner to the laws it has to obey; the things that make it valuable. Paper is lighter. And if you get into trouble, you can just burn it.

It is a coin with an image of a man on one side and a man a woman on the other. There are inscriptions. Old style. It is gold and very large; very heavy in his hand. His father had given it to him one day. No ceremony, no reason. He had just let if all into Homam’s hand and smiled a curious smile.

He takes the tea. He smiles. The conversation is on auto pilot. He trusts his experience to say the right thing while he plans the trip.

My god what a coin! Absolutely stunning! Stunning. Where did you come by it?

My father.

Um Hmm. Do you have any more?

Just the one.

Of course. Who would hope for more? The gods have already been generous. Do you have any idea of its value? It is rare indeed.

Yes.

I see. It is a twenty stater gold coin. Greaco Bactrian. I don’t know that it can be sold. Legally, I mean. There are only a handful in the world. If it is genuine.

Homam smiles easily on que.

..the man drones on about the history of money and mathmatics, weights and talents and purity. Why it is valuable. Why it is just, right and true it should be valuable. Bactria. Eucratides. His mother. See here? Basilicus Megalou. It means the Great King. The difficulty of such a rare coin. There is value and then there is invaluable.

France. It would be France. There is something in France that calls him. She won’t care. As long as no one knows. They will leave it behind. They will just …go.

..can’t possibly have a buyer before next week. Word has to get out to get the best price. You understand.

Today. We’ll make the exchange tommorow.

You are in a hurry.

Yes and no.

Is it stolen? I know it is rude to ask. But .. They’ll know of course.

No. It is not stolen. It is just unknown to you until now.

Of course. Uh..I’ll have to make some calls. Where can I reach you?

Homam gives him the number to his cell phone; his email. No later than five. American dollars and British pounds.

Yes. Of course. A man with that coin makes the rules.

I do not care to keep speaking. I don’t care if I am rude.

The man looks at him closely. A man with that coin could be free. He extends his hand.

Homam picks up the coin, backs away and disappears into the crowd.

———

A suitcase full of money is heavier than it looks.

The bank had given him plastic. The man had given him a numbered account he should check from time to time. This is only a downpayment –until I know a price.

She wants to go by plane.