Future on ice, p.50
Future on Ice,
p.50
I saw more of the world tonight, he thought, than I had ever thought to see. I saw death and how much I feared it.
And he looked into himself, wondering how much he had changed.
Late in the morning, when he finally awoke, the pageant people were gone. They had a show, of course, and had to do some kind of parade to let people know. School would let out early so they could put on the show without having to waste power on lights. There’d be no school this afternoon. But what about his morning classes? There must have been some question when he didn’t show up; someone would have called, and if he didn’t answer the phone, someone would have come by. Maybe the show people had still been here when they came. The word would have spread through school that he was still alive.
He tried to imagine LaVon and Kippie and Pope hearing that Mr. Machine, Mr. Bug, Mr. Carpenter was still alive. They’d be afraid, of course. Maybe defiant. Maybe they had even confessed. No, not that. LaVon would keep them quiet. Try to think of a way out. Maybe even plan an escape, though finding a place to go that wasn’t under Utah authority would be a problem.
What am I doing? Trying to plan how my enemies can escape retribution? I should call the marshals again and tell them what happened. If someone hasn’t called them already.
His wheelchair waited by his bed. The show people had shined it up for him, got rid of all the muck. Even straightened the computer mounts and tied the computer on; jury-rigged it, but it would do. Would the motor run, after being under water? He saw that they had even changed batteries and had the old one set aside. They were good people. Not at all what the stories said about show gypsies. Though there was no natural law that people who help cripples can’t also seduce all the young girls in the village.
His arms hurt and his left arm was weak and trembly, but he managed to get into the chair. The pain brought back yesterday. I’m alive today, and yet today doesn’t feel any different from last week, when I was also alive. Being on the brink of death wasn’t enough; the only transformation is to die.
He ate lunch because it was nearly noon. Eldon Finch came by to see him, along with the sheriff. “I’m the new bishop,” said Eldon.
“Didn’t waste any time,” said Carpenter.
“I gotta tell you, Brother Carpenter, things are in a tizzy today. Yesterday, too, of course, what with avenging angels dropping out of the sky and taking away people we all trusted. There’s some says you shouldn’t’ve told, and some says you did right, and some ain’t sayin’ nothin’ ’cause they’re afraid somethin’ll get told on them. Ugly times, ugly times, when folks steal from their neighbors.”
Sheriff Budd finally spoke up. “Almost as ugly as tryin’ to drownd ’em.”
The bishop nodded. “ ’Course you know the reason we come, Sheriff Budd and me, we come to find out who done it.”
“Done what?”
“Plunked you down that wash. You aren’t gonna tell me you drove that little wheelie chair of yours out there past the fringe. What, was you speedin’ so fast you lost control and spun out? Give me peace of heart, Brother Carpenter, give me trust.” The bishop and the sheriff both laughed at that. Quite a joke.
Now’s the time, thought Carpenter. Name the names. The motive will be clear, justice will be done. They put you through the worst hell of your life, they made you cry out for help, they taught you the taste of death. Now even things up.
But he didn’t key their names into the computer. He thought of Kippie’s mother crying at the door. When the crying stopped, there’d be years ahead. They were a long way from proving out their land. Kippie was through with school, he’d never go on, never get out. The adult burden was on those boys now, years too young. Should their families suffer even more, with another generation gone to prison? Carpenter had nothing to gain, and many who were guiltless stood to lose too much.
“Brother Carpenter,” said Sheriff Budd. “Who was it?”
He keyed in his answer. “I didn’t get a look at them.”
“Their voices, didn’t you know them?”
“No.”
The bishop looked steadily at him. “They tried to kill you, Brother Carpenter. That’s no joke. You like to died, if those show people hadn’t happened by. And I have my own ideas who it was, seein’ who had reason to hate you unto death yesterday.”
“As you said. A lot of people think an outsider like me should have kept his nose out of Reefrock’s business.”
The bishop frowned at him. “You scared they’ll try again?”
“No.”
“Nothin’ I can do,” said the sheriff. “I think you’re a damn fool, Brother Carpenter, but nothin’ I can do if you don’t even care.”
“Thanks for coming by.”
He didn’t go to church Sunday. But on Monday he went to school, same time as usual. And there were LaVon and Kippie and Pope, right in their places. But not the same as usual. The wisecracks were over. When he called on them, they answered if they could and didn’t if they couldn’t. When he looked at them, they looked away.
He didn’t know if it was shame or fear that he might someday tell; he didn’t care. The mark was on them. They would marry someday, go out into even newer lands just behind the ever-advancing fringe, have babies, work until their bodies were exhausted, and then drop into a grave. But they’d remember that one day they had left a cripple to die. He had no idea what it would mean to them, but they would remember.
Within a few weeks LaVon and Kippie were out of school; with their fathers gone, there was too much fieldwork and school was a luxury their families couldn’t afford for them. Pope had an older brother still at home, so he stayed out the year.
One time Pope almost talked to him. It was a windy day that spattered sand against the classroom window, and the storm coming out of the south looked to be a nasty one. When class was over, most of the kids ducked their heads and rushed outside, hurrying to get home before the downpour began. A few stayed, though, to talk with Carpenter about this and that. When the last one left, Carpenter saw that Pope was still there. His pencil was hovering over a piece of paper. He looked up at Carpenter, then set the pencil down, picked up his books, started for the door. He paused for a moment with his hand on the doorknob. Carpenter waited for him to speak. But the boy only opened the door and went on out.
Carpenter rolled over to the door and watched him as he walked away. The wind caught at his jacket. Like a kite, thought Carpenter, it’s lifting him along.
But it wasn’t true. The boy didn’t rise and fly. And now Carpenter saw the wind like a current down the village street, sweeping Pope away. All the bodies in the world, caught in that same current, that same wind, blown down the same rivers, the same streets, and finally coming to rest on some snag, through some door, in some grave, God knows where or why.
Preface copyright © 1998 by Orson Scott Card.
“Science Fiction and ‘The Force’” copyright © 1998 by Orson Scott Card.
“Robot Dreams” copyright © 1986 by Isaac Asimov. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Portraits of His Children” copyright © 1985 by Davis Publications. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Tourists” copyright © 1985 by Lisa Goldstein. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Blood Music” copyright © 1983 by Davis Publications. Originally published in Analog. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Time’s Rub” copyright © 1984 by Abbenford Associates. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Shanidar” copyright © 1985 by David Zindell. First published in Writers of the Future, Volume One. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Speech Sounds” copyright © 1983 by Davis Publications. First appeared in Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine. Reprinted by permission of the author and her agents, Kirby McCauley, Ltd.
“Snow” copyright © 1985 by Omni Publications International Ltd. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Klein’s Machine” copyright © 1985 by Davis Publications. First appeared in Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, April 1985. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Pots” copyright © 1985 by C. J. Cherryh. Reprinted by permission of the author’s agent, Curtis Brown, Ltd.
“Press Enter ” copyright © 1984 by Davis Publications, Inc. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Dinosaurs” copyright © 1987 by Davis Publications. Reprinted by permission of the author and the author’s agent, Schaffner Associates.
“Face Value” copyright © 1986 by Mercury Press, Inc. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Cabracan” copyright © 1986 by Davis Publications. First published in Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, October 1986. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Rockabye Baby” copyright © 1985 by Davis Publications. First published in Analog, mid-December 1985. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“The Pure Product” copyright © 1986 by Davis Publications, Inc., Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Out of All Them Bright Stars” copyright © 1985 by Mercury Press, Inc. First appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“The Fringe” copyright © 1985 by Davis Publications, Inc. Reprinted by permission of the author.
This is an anthology of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in these stories are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
FUTURE ON ICE
Copyright © 1998 by Orson Scott Card
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Future on ice / edited by Orson Scott Card.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN: 978-1-429-96528-6
1. Science fiction, American. 1. Card, Orson Scott.
PS648.S3F894 1998
813'.0876208—dc21
98-23524
Tor Books by Orson Scott Card
Note: Within series, books are best read in listed order.
—–
ENDER UNIVERSE
Ender Series
Ender Wiggin: The finest general the world could hope to find or breed.
Ender's Game
Ender in Exile
Speaker for the Dead
Xenocide
Children of the Mind
Ender's Shadow Series
Parallel storylines to Ender's Game from Bean: Ender's right hand, his strategist, and his friend.
Ender's Shadow
Shadow of the Hegemon
Shadow Puppets
Shadow of the Giant
Shadows in Flight
The First Formic War Series
One hundred years before Ender's Game, the aliens arrived on Earth with fire and death.
These are the stories of the First Formic War.
Earth Unaware
Earth Afire
Ender novellas
A War of Gifts
First Meetings
The Authorized Ender Companion by Jake Black
A complete and in-depth encyclopedia of all the persons, places, things, and events in Orson Scott Card's Ender Universe.
THE MITHER MAGES SERIES
Danny North is different from his magical family. And when he discovers his gift, it is greater than he ever imagined—which could earn him a death sentence.
The Lost Gate
The Gate Thief
THE TALES OF ALVIN MAKER SERIES
Visit the magical America that might have been, marvel as the tale of Alvin Maker unfolds.
Seventh Son
Red Prophet
Prentice Alvin
Alvin Journeyman
Heartfire
The Crystal City
HOMECOMING SERIES
Earth has been rendered uninhabitable. But it is still vital.
The Memory of Earth
The Call of Earth
The Ships of Earth
Earthfall
Earthborn
WOMEN OF GENESIS SERIES
Fiction exploring the human side of Biblical women.
Sarah
Rebekah
Rachel & Leah
THE COLLECTED SHORT FICTION OF ORSON SCOTT CARD
Experience Card's full versatility, from science fiction to fantasy, from traditional narrative poetry to modern experimental fiction.
Keeper of Dreams
The Changed Man
Cruel Miracles
Flux
Monkey Sonatas
STAND-ALONE FICTION
Hart's Hope: Dark and powerful fantasy.
Lovelock (with Kathryn Kidd): A startling look at the ethics of bioengineering.
Pastwatch: In this novel of time travel, can the past be changed?
Saints: A novel of the early days of the Mormon Church.
Songmaster: An SF classic and a haunting story of power and love.
The Worthing Saga: The tale of a seed ship sent out to save the human race.
Wyrms: The story of a young woman's journey to confront her destiny, and her world's.
The Folk of the Fringe: When America is destroyed, it's up to those on the fringes to rebuild.
—–
www.tor-forge.com
Orson Scott Card, Future on Ice
