Light Delay · Episode 12
Cruise
The end of Book One. The engine stops at nine-tenths of the speed of light, Michael answers a question his son asked at nine, and a message that was never in the numbers arrives on its own.
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Early morning in the kitchen, birds outside, a coffee maker finishing.
Theo On Sunday morning, the eleventh of July, the player chimed on its own.
Theo I hadn't touched it. It was on the kitchen table, face down, where I'd left it. It chimed once, the way it does when a message comes in. Nothing should have been coming in. Four-twelve was the last one.
A soft playback chime.
Theo I turned it over. There was a new file at the very top of the list. Above message one.
Theo Message zero. Recorded the eighth of March, twenty forty-one. The night before he left.
Theo And underneath, in his words, the label he'd given it. "For Theo, when you're older than me."
The series theme, with the title card over it.
Announcer Light Delay, presented by the VoiceFrequency Network. Episode twelve: Cruise.
A summer night in the kitchen, crickets outside, three nights earlier.
Theo But that was Sunday. Go back three days.
Theo Thursday, Friday and Saturday, we played seventy-six to ninety-five. Twenty messages, in three nights. Mikey said that was cheating. I said it was a long weekend.
Theo Most of them are small. Lena finds a crack in one of her rocks and is upset for a week. Tomas loses the chess rematch and pretends he didn't. My father describes the stars ahead of the ship turning bluer, and the ones behind turning red, because of how fast they're going. He says it's like being inside a rainbow that's been folded in half.
Theo And on Friday, Perihelion's lawyers wrote. A very polite letter, about section nine, and "the preservation of mission materials", and a meeting they'd like to arrange in September. I put it in the drawer with the cereal box.
Mikey Ninety-four.
Theo Ninety-four. Saturday night.
Mikey Is this the one?
Theo This is the one.
A soft playback chime.
Theo Message ninety-four. Ship date the twenty-seventh of July, twenty forty-two. It got to us on the thirtieth of March, twenty forty-four. I was twelve.
The ship under thrust, a deep steady engine rumble.
Michael Hey, buddy. Your message got here this morning. The one from December. The one where you were crying.
Michael It took fourteen months of your time to catch me up. Eight of mine. I've played it all day. Anika made me eat lunch and I played it at lunch.
Michael You asked if I'd still know you. If I'd still recognize your voice, when I finally heard you older. You were nine, and you were crying, and you still said "over" at the end. I noticed that. I'm very proud of that.
Michael So here's my answer. Yes.
Michael And here's why. I'm going to hear you slow. You're right about that. But slow means I don't miss anything. I'll hear nine-year-old you, and nine-and-a-half, and ten. Every step, in order, nothing skipped. I'm going to play them all, the way you play mine. So when your voice gets lower, I'll be there for every bit of it getting lower. And when it's lower than mine, I'll still hear the boy who said "over" four times, to be safe.
Michael You'll be twelve by the time you hear this. So, hey, twelve-year-old. I answered the nine-year-old. You'll have to go and tell him I said yes. He's in there somewhere. Tell him from me. Over.
The message ends with a soft click.
Back in the kitchen.
Mikey Did you? Tell him?
Theo I was twelve. I was in the seventh grade, and I had a girlfriend for nine days, and I thought I was much too old for any of it. I played it in the garage, so nobody would see. And I said "yes" out loud, to nobody. To the nine-year-old.
Theo I felt like an idiot. I've never told anyone that.
Mikey You just told me.
Theo I just told you.
Early morning in the kitchen, birds outside, a coffee maker finishing.
Mikey Zero.
Theo Zero.
Mikey Zero comes before one. If you're playing them in order, zero comes first. You missed it. You have to go back.
Theo He didn't send it first. He made it first, but he didn't send it. He asked them to hold it until after the last message. It goes where he put it.
Mikey "When you're older than me."
Theo I'm fifty-six. In four-twelve, he's fifty.
Mikey So you're older than him. So play it.
Theo Not yet. In the messages we're up to, he's thirty-nine and I'm twelve. That's where I am. That's the order. If I play it now, I'm skipping forty years to get to it.
Mikey So when?
Theo When I get to the message where I'm finally older than him. When the boy in the messages catches up with the man in them. Somewhere in the middle, a long way down. I'll know it when I hear it.
A phone rings once and is answered.
Grace It came, didn't it.
Theo This morning. Zero. You knew about it.
Grace He told me he'd made one. The night before. He wouldn't tell me what was in it. He said it wasn't for me. It was the only thing in forty-seven years he ever kept from me, and he told me he was doing it.
Theo Are you all right?
Grace Are you going to play it?
Theo When I'm older than him. In order.
Grace You're older than him now.
Theo Not where I am.
Grace You sound exactly like him when you're being stubborn. Goodnight, Theo.
The call ends.
A summer night in the kitchen, crickets outside.
Theo Sunday night. The last one of the burn. Message ninety-six.
Theo For a year and a half by his clock, the engine had pushed. One g, all the way, like standing in our kitchen. And on the twelfth of August, twenty forty-two, by the ship's calendar, it stopped. Anika let everybody send home an extra message that night. Commander's privilege.
A soft playback chime.
Theo It got to us in June, twenty forty-four. I was twelve and a half.
The ship under thrust, a deep steady engine rumble.
Michael In about ten minutes, the engine stops.
Michael We'll be going nine-tenths of the speed of light. And we'll stay at that speed for nine years, by my clock. Forty-one by yours. No more pushing. Just coasting. Falling towards Halcyon through the dark, with the lights on.
Michael This one gets to you when you're twelve and a half. I've been trying to picture twelve-and-a-half you. You're taller than your mother now, or nearly. You've got opinions about music that I wouldn't understand. You're embarrassed by me. That's good. That means it's working. And I bet you still say the blue ones are best, even if you only say it when nobody's listening.
Michael I'm probably wrong about all of it. Tell me in ten years.
Tomas Michael. Two minutes.
Michael Two minutes. Okay. Everybody's at the window. Lena's holding her favorite rock. Anika's got the notebook. Tomas has his hand on the switch, which he says is not how it works, but it's how I'm telling it.
Tomas Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
The engine winds down and stops, and the ship goes quiet.
The ship coasting, a soft quiet hum.
Michael Oh. Oh, there it is. My feet just came off the floor. We're all floating. Lena's rock is floating. Anika's notebook's floating.
Michael Theo. Theo, the spoon. The spoon's coming off the back wall. It's been stuck there since the night I left, a year and a half, and it's floating. It's coming right past my head.
Michael I've got it. I caught the spoon.
Michael Okay. That's it. That's the end of the pushing. From here, it's coasting. I'll talk to you on Sunday. I'll talk to you on every Sunday there is.
Michael Over.
The message ends with a soft click.
Back in the kitchen.
Mikey He caught the spoon.
Theo He caught the spoon. He kept it, too. It's in one of the messages, years later. He keeps it in his bunk.
Mikey He didn't say "out".
Theo He never says "out". You only say "out" at the very end.
Footsteps going up a wooden staircase.
A summer night in the kitchen, crickets outside.
Theo That's where the first part ends. Ninety-six messages. Seventeen months of his life. Three years of mine. I went from nine to twelve and a half, and he went from thirty-eight to thirty-nine.
Theo After ninety-six, the messages come slower. Every other Sunday, then. And the gaps between them get longer, for me, every year. I was twelve when he started coasting. I'd be in my fifties before he stopped.
Theo Message zero is on the table, at the top of the list, with his label on it. "For Theo, when you're older than me."
Theo I'm going to keep my promise. In order. I'll get there.
Theo Message ninety-seven, tomorrow.
The closing theme, the piano under the announcer.
Announcer You've been listening to episode twelve of Light Delay, on the VoiceFrequency Network. This is the end of Book One.
Announcer Light Delay returns with Book Two: Years. Theo grows up, and stops answering. Michael keeps answering anyway. And Grace keeps her promise.