“And on the fifth day, God retrieved an algae sample and analyzed it,” I joke. Michael doesn’t laugh. For one, this is more like the five thousandth day of this project. For another, Michael is an autonomous underwater drone and can’t laugh.
I’m part of a group that’s trying to seed Enceladus with life. Turns out it didn’t have any before, but there are the perfect conditions for it under the ice. The goal is to add some uplifted octopi here eventually, but first we’ve got to add everything else in just the right order. We’re up to algae so far. We drilled holes in the 5+ km ice and sealed them with hatches and sanitation rooms. The drones do most of the work on their own, distributing algae colonies and taking measurements. But occasionally we like to get a sample up to the surface for more specialized tests.
“Thanks Michael,” I call out as the drone motors its way back into the water. I’ve painted a halo on each chassis and named them after angels, but I’ve taken a special liking to Michael. I don’t think he’s noticed.
As I enter the sample into the test apparatus, I get a call from my wife. Beth’s video shows up on my retinas so it looks like she’s in the same room. “You all set? You’d better get going if you’re going to make the shuttle.”
“It’s alright, I don’t need to pack anything.”
Beth is stationed on Titan, so there’s a few seconds of delay.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
I smile. It’d be just like Beth to drop all her research at a moment’s notice and somehow secure a last-minute seat on an interplanetary ship. “Thanks, but I think I should do this alone.”
~ ~ ~
I do make it to the shuttle on time, and the ride to the Earth-bound ship is mostly uneventful. I’ve spent a lot of time on Saturn’s moons lately, so I suffer the same mild discomfort I always feel whenever I experience more than .25 g. But my augmented endocrine system allows me to avoid the worst of that.
I board the Petrov and greet the other passengers I know, then find my cabin. It’s going to be a long trip. Well, that’s relative—we’ll be traveling hundreds of times faster than any spacecraft could go when I was a kid. But it’ll still take a few days. There’s something I need to do before we arrive, but we’ve got time. So I sit back on my bed, print some sushi, close my eyes, and play a few mind-numbing games to kill time.
But that gets old and I can’t put it off forever, so I pull out my stone. It’s a kind of hard drive-slash-processor. Implants and nanobots are sufficient for most tasks, but everyone needs a physical device for the more intensive programs. Some people shape theirs into wristwatches or glasses. But I like to feel something solid in my hands when I design an AI or simulate the solar system. Plus, it fits snugly into my pocket.
The stone stores my first hundred years of memories. I uploaded them as soon as the technology came out, afraid my new memories would overwrite the old ones. I find the memories I want, sit back, and hit play.
~ ~ ~
I’m walking into my 5th grade classroom for the first time. My family moved to Omaha in the middle of the school year, and I don’t know a soul. Then a dark-haired kid walks up to me. “You’re Mormon, right? You were at church yesterday?”
I nod. “I’m Ammon.”
“Cool, like from the Book of Mormon! I’m Jason. I think there’s a Jason in the New Testament, but the best Jason is from Greek mythology.”
“Really? What did he do?”
“I have a book at home—you should come over and borrow it.”
~ ~ ~
We’re lying in our sleeping bags in a snow cave. I had foolishly kept my wet jeans in my sleeping bag with me to try and dry them out, and now I feel like I’m freezing to death. But they’re my only pair, so I stubbornly keep trying to warm both the pants and myself. Everyone else is asleep, but Jason has stayed up to keep me company. He tells me the plots of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and three different Pern books, and I finally drift off to sleep.
~ ~ ~
We’re in Jason’s family’s sedan driving to early-morning seminary—Sister Peterson in the driver’s seat, Jason sitting shotgun, and me in the back.
“So Ammon, did you meet any cute girls at the stake dance?” She glances at me through the rear-view mirror.
I shrug. “Yeah, there were lots of cute girls.”
“Anyone especially cute?”
I shrug again and try to deflect. “I don’t know. But Jason danced with Susan for most of the dances.”
“Really?” Sister Peterson says in surprise. She stares at Jason. “Well, Susan is a very nice girl!”
Jason stares out the side window and doesn’t answer. I assume he’s embarrassed about liking a girl. I try to catch his eye in the reflection of the glass and mouth “sorry”, but I notice tears on his cheeks and look away in embarrassment.
~ ~ ~
Jason and I are lying on the grass, enjoying the warm sun and light breeze. An auditorium lies in front of us, the Community of Christ temple spirals up on our left, and kitty-corner from us is the LDS Visitors Center. A white Church of Christ lies some distance behind us, but besides that this block is all grass.
“I don’t like Susan, okay?” Jason says suddenly.
“What?”
“I know I talked to her a lot on the ride down, but I don’t like her like that. I just think she’s a really good friend.”
“It’s okay if you like her.”
“Is it okay if I don’t?”
I sit up and look at him. “Yeah, of course. You can like whoever you want.”
Jason opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then stops. I decide to change the subject.
“So this is where they’re going to build the temple, huh?”
Jason turns to look at the entire block. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“How d’you think they’re going to get the land back? The Temple Lot church doesn’t seem too eager to sell it.”
Jason snorts. “I don’t think property is going to work the same way in the Millennium.”
“What, like we’ll all be communists?” I gasp in mock indignation. “I don’t think you and Ezra Taft Benson would have gotten along very well.
Jason throws some grass at me. “Yeah, well, he was wrong. The United Order is going to be socialism all the way.” I shift uncomfortably. It’s one thing to joke about prophets being uptight; it’s another to outright contradict them.
“Besides, I wonder if it has to be this exact spot, or just in the area,” Jason says.
“Well, let’s find out.” I say, abruptly standing up.
“What?”
“Meet me back here in… 500 years. The Millennium will have to have started by then, right? We’ll both be resurrected. So let’s meet here and see where the temple is. If it’s on this block, I win. If it’s nearby, you win.”
“What do we win?” he asks.
“The loser has to get the winner…”
“A milkshake.”
“A milkshake? Not a unicorn or a massive diamond or something?”
“A milkshake,” Jason confirms. “Unicorns don’t exist, even in the Millennium, and we won’t have any need for massive diamonds. But you can always use a milkshake.”
“Alright. The bet is on.”
~ ~ ~
As the Petrov passes through the asteroid belt, I call my mom. We got her back fifty years ago thanks to a miraculous combination of dead brain cell imaging, genetic analysis, and decomposition science. She’s been hosted on a server farm since then, so the delay should be minimal. She answers, but appears on my retinas as the witch from Spirited Away.
“Mom! You’re supposed to be using a digital image of your actual body so the transition will be easier!”
She just throws her enormous head back and cackles. “But I don’t have an actual body!”
“You know what I mean, Mom.”
“And can’t they grow me whatever body I want? What if I want this body?”
“I don’t see how any skeleton could support that skull. Besides, they’ve got to grow the same body you had before you died so the synapses all map correctly. Then you can alter it however you want and give yourself osteoporosis.”
She chuckles. “I know, I know. I still use my old body’s avatar sometimes. And I’ll wear it more the closer they get to resurrecting me. Geez, you never-deads are all so uptight just because you’ve been around a few hundred years more than us.” I shake my head. We’ve repeated this conversation so often that it’s become a ritual.
“So what are you doing in the neighborhood? Oh, right…” The witch’s smile fades. “Honey, I am so sorry about Jason. It’s so unfair. I died decades before he did. Just because he was cremated and I wasn’t—”
“It’s alright,” I say, looking down. “I mean, it sucks, but that’s how it is. The universe isn’t fair. It gives some of us immortality, it brings others back to life, and it keeps other people dead forever. Even if they were better than us. Just because they don’t have any brain left to scan.”
“Oh, Ammon,” she pats my arm with her immaterial hand.
“I’m alright. But…the delay’s going to get worse soon. I think I’d better go.”
~ ~ ~
“So they really eat this in France?” I ask. Jason and I are at his parents’ house. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in years.
“Yep! It’s mostly a southern thing, but this super nice woman in our branch made it for us every month.”
“It’s better than you’d expect a bunch of vegetables would be,” I admit. “But it looks nothing like the movie.”
“Well, are you going to believe me or an animated rat?”
“Tough choice.”
“You’ve got to make me blood pudding some time.”
I laugh. “Yeah, just as soon as I can get some pig’s blood.” I take another bite of baguette. “So, did you like your mission?”
“Heck yeah! I had so many great spiritual experiences. Not a lot of converts, but the members there are so inspiring.”
I nod. “Yeah, most of our investigators were from overseas. We had an English class that attracted university students from dozens of countries around the world.” I lifted the last eggplant slice to my mouth and chewed. “I had one investigator named Jo. She was the best. She asked us to teach her about Jesus right after her first English lesson. She had an amazing experience with prayer, and she clicked really well with the recent converts.”
“Yeah?”
“But then she came to church for the first time, and the Relief Society lesson was about the law of chastity.”
“Oh no.”
“And afterward she’s crying and she tells us about her girlfriend. And then we never saw her again.” I stand up and take my plate to the sink. “It’s just, like, she would have made a perfect member, you know? If only it weren’t for that. And the more I think about it, the less I get why we even have that rule.”
I rinse my plate, and Jason follows me with his. “Ammon, I’m gay.”
~ ~ ~
When I hear about the new policy, I call Jason. “Hey,” he answers. Then he starts sobbing.
“Jason, I’m so sorry. I know this doesn’t make it better, but I wanted you to know that I’m leaving the Church.”
The sobbing stops. “You… no, you don’t have to do that. Not on my account!”
“It’s not just you. I just, I don’t think we’re heading in the right direction. This is just the last straw, you know?”
There’s silence for a moment. “Okay. Yeah, I support your decision. But you know, Ammon, I’m… I’m staying.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. This is a bad policy, and hopefully they change it one day. But there’s still so much good in the Church. So many good people. And I believe it. Maybe not all the specifics, anymore, but the main messages. That God can talk to us individually, and guide us as a people. And… I need to stay. To show them that people like me aren’t going anywhere.”
“So… are you just going to be celibate for the rest of your life?”
Jason sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe if I find someone, I’ll get married and get excommunicated. But I’ll still go to church. I’ll still be Mormon.”
More silence, longer this time. Finally I say, “I… I support your decision too, Jason, whatever you end up doing.”
~ ~ ~
When Jason gets married at Platte River State Park, I’m his best man. They didn’t let him host the reception in the cultural hall like he wanted, but some of his ward members attend the wedding. I bring wine for myself and the other groom’s guests. Jason doesn’t have any.
I’m also waiting in the parking lot when he walks out of his church disciplinary council a few days later.
~ ~ ~
I can barely see through my tears as I drive to Jason’s house. His husband Emmanuel hugs me tightly, then leads me inside.
“The Relief Society brought fresh bread just before you came. You’ve got some good people, Ammon.”
“Ha, thanks. But they’re not my people.”
He raises one eyebrow as if we both know I’m wrong. He butters a slice of bread and hands it to me.
Smiling, I accept it and eat. Emmanuel and I have been friends for years now, so it’s a comfortable silence.
“I just wish I had him for longer,” Emmanuel says with a heavy sigh, as if he’s struggling to keep from crying. I put my hand on his arm. After a moment, he calms down.
“He wanted to be cremated because it’s better for the environment. I always thought that Mormons were buried, but…”
I nod. “He always told me that was silly—that if you believe Jesus can resurrect you, it shouldn’t matter what’s left over. It’s not like he’s raising zombies.”
Emmanuel laughs. “Now I’m picturing Jesus and his army of Mormon zombies, marching to convert the world.”
I laugh with him and leave before I start crying again.
~ ~ ~
I curse as I watch the earth grow bigger on the screen. It’s beautiful. It looks healthier than the last time I was here. The Salt Lake is full again, and almost all of Florida is back above water. Jason had such great dreams for the future. Universal healthcare, universal income. A damn federal-election holiday. And now he’s gone.
I transfer to another shuttle with the other passengers. We descend into Kiikapoi airspace over what used to be Missouri, not that borders mean much anymore. A great cloud rises from Kansas City, part of a geoengineering project to repair the last vestiges of the 21st Century’s climate change. Once we land, I take a maglev train to Independence. As I get off and walk the rest of the way, I marvel at the city. It’s home to the greatest research university for evolutionary biology in the solar system. They can trace your ancestry all the way to the last universal common ancestor. Actually, the university makes up most of the city. With the parks and walkways in between, it looks like a city of palaces.
I turn a corner and find that they’ve left the historical sites untouched, an island of churches in a sea of science. The spiral temple is there, as is the Temple Lot Church and the LDS Visitor’s Center. I wonder if they were kept for religious reasons or historical ones. I honestly don’t even know if any of those church institutions exist anymore.
I find the same spot where Jason and I stood 500 years ago and sit down. I get a small vial out of my pocket. I had lied to Beth—I did have one thing to pack. Emmanuel had given it to me after the funeral.
I open it and pour the ashes onto the grass. I notice someone approaching on the sidewalk and will them to go away. I look up and stop breathing.
“Ammon?” Jason says, with tears and a smile. He’s wearing a white robe. “Ammon? You owe me a milkshake.”
Tygan Shelton
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