Light Delay · Episode 9
Slow Motion
The ship's clock starts slipping behind Earth's, and Michael explains why he and his son now hear each other in slow motion. Theo, nine, asks a question that will take twenty-eight months to answer.
Now playing
Loading episodes…
Click any section or line to jump there in the audio.
A summer night in the kitchen, crickets outside.
Theo Message fifty. It's the first one with two dates on it.
Theo The ship's calendar said Sunday, the twenty-second of September, twenty forty-one. Perihelion's stamp underneath said that on Earth, it was already the third of October.
Theo It got to us on Thanksgiving.
A soft playback chime.
The ship under thrust, a deep steady engine rumble.
Michael Something's happening to the clocks, buddy. We knew it would. It's still strange when it does.
Michael Our clock on the ship says it's Sunday, the twenty-second of September. And Perihelion says that at home, right now, it's the third of October. We've lost eleven days. We didn't lose them, exactly. We just never had them. When you go this fast, time runs slower for you. Not much yet. For every seven days you get, right now I get about six.
Michael And here's the part that's hard to get your head around. Because I'm going away from you so fast, my messages get stretched out on the way home. A week of my life reaches you spread over almost two of yours. And your messages get stretched out on the way to me, just the same. So each of us hears the other one in slow motion.
Michael It doesn't change the words. You'll hear everything I say, at the normal speed. It just takes longer to arrive. It's like we're both reading the same book, and I'm reading it slower than you, and you're reading me slower than I am.
Michael I'm making a mess of this. Ask your teacher. Ask Miss Okafor to draw it on the board. Over.
The message ends with a soft click.
The series theme, with the title card over it.
Announcer Light Delay, presented by the VoiceFrequency Network. Episode nine: Slow Motion.
Early morning in the kitchen, birds outside, a coffee maker finishing.
Theo The morning after the Fourth, Mikey was at the table with a pad of paper, trying to draw what my father had been trying to explain. It's a spacetime diagram. I've drawn it on a whiteboard for twenty-five years. I didn't tell him that. I let him get there.
Mikey Okay. So the ship's going away. And every message he sends has a bit further to come than the one before. So they arrive more spread out than he sent them.
Theo Yes.
Mikey And that's on top of his clock running slow.
Theo On top of it. The two of them stack.
Mikey So by the end, how slow?
Theo During the long cruise, about four and a half to one. Nine years of his life came to me over forty-one years of mine.
Mikey And yours to him?
Theo The same. Four and a half to one. Whatever I said, he heard it slow.
Mikey Dad. The things you said to him. Your messages. Do you have them?
Theo No.
Mikey None of them?
Theo Nobody kept their side. You recorded it on the tablet, you pressed send, and it was gone. That was the whole point of it. It wasn't for keeping. It was going to him.
Mikey So there's four hundred and twelve of his, and none of yours.
Theo That's right.
Mikey That's so sad.
Theo It didn't feel sad at the time. It felt like posting a letter.
A summer night in the kitchen, crickets outside.
Theo I played fifty on Thanksgiving, after the turkey, in my room, twice. And I did ask Miss Okafor to draw it on the board. On the Monday after, she drew two lines going apart, and little arrows going between them, getting further and further apart. And everybody in the class looked at me.
Theo And that night, I sent him a message, and I cried the whole way through it.
Mikey Why?
Theo Because I'd understood it. I'd understood the slow motion. And what I understood was, he was going to hear me grow up slow. He'd hear me at nine, for ages. And at ten, for ages. Everybody else would get the real me, at the real speed, and he'd get me in slow motion, years behind.
Theo I asked him if he'd still know me. When he finally heard me be older. I asked him if he'd recognize my voice.
Mikey What did he say?
Theo That's the thing. That's what I'm telling you. I sent that on the second of December, twenty forty-one. It had to chase him. He was going away at more than half the speed of light, and getting faster. It didn't catch the ship until January, twenty forty-three. And his answer got back to me in April, twenty forty-four.
Theo Twenty-eight months. I asked it at nine. He answered it when I was twelve.
Mikey Is it in here? The answer?
Theo It's in here. It's a long way down.
A soft playback chime.
Theo Message fifty-three. Ship date the thirteenth of October. It came on the fifth of January. Two days early.
The ship under thrust, a deep steady engine rumble.
Michael Okay. This should get to you a couple of days before your birthday. So don't play it till the seventh. I mean it. Put it down. Theo. Put it down.
Michael Fine. You've played it. Happy birthday. Ten. I'm not going to sing. Tomas says if I sing, he'll turn the engine off and we'll all just drift, and he'd rather drift.
Michael Here's what I worked out for your birthday. When I left, you were nine and two months. By the time you hear this, it'll be ten months, for you. For me, it's been seven. So you're getting older faster than I am. Right now it's a little bit. Later, it's a lot. So I'm going to need you to slow down. Don't grow up too fast. Not without me.
Michael I know that's not fair. You can't slow down. I'm the one who left. That's mine to carry, not yours.
Michael So here's what you do instead. Grow up at the normal speed. Exactly the normal speed. And send me all of it. I'll catch up. I'll always catch up. Even if it's in slow motion. Happy birthday, buddy. Over.
The message ends with a soft click.
Back in the kitchen.
Mikey "Not without me."
Theo I didn't play it till the seventh. I want you to know that. I held out for two whole days. I put it in the drawer with the cereal box, and I took it out on the seventh, at breakfast.
Mikey And you didn't slow down.
Theo Nobody does.
Mikey You know what I worked out? On my pad of paper?
Theo What?
Mikey He heard you slow. But you waited slow. Twenty-eight months for one answer. That's the same thing, from the other side. You both had the slow part. You just had it differently.
Theo That's right. That's exactly right. That's what the diagram says.
Mikey Same time tomorrow?
Theo Same time.
Footsteps going up a wooden staircase.
A summer night in the kitchen, crickets outside.
Theo I asked him if he'd recognize my voice. He'd hear a nine-year-old for a year. A ten-year-old for another year. By the time he got there, he'd only got as far as twelve. Twelve and a bit. That's who four-twelve is talking to. A twelve-year-old.
Theo After he got there, the rest of me kept arriving. Twenty-two years late, but at the normal speed again, because he'd stopped moving. Fifteen. Seventeen. And then, in twenty seventy-three, nineteen. And then nothing, because by then I'd stopped sending.
Theo If he's alive, the last thing my father heard from me was one word.
Theo Message fifty-four, tomorrow.
The closing theme, the piano under the announcer.
Announcer You've been listening to episode nine of Light Delay, on the VoiceFrequency Network.
Announcer In our next episode: Grace gets news she can't send fast enough. And Theo guesses a word he was never meant to know.