“As a nation, we are at war with reality, and unfortunately, reality is winning,” laughed my friend, lifting his glass. “To reality!” He drank, and deeply. Then, with a gasping whisper, he added “Après moi, le déluge.”
I looked out the crisscrossed framed window we’d sat by. The whole wall on this side of the officer’s lounge was glass, and right now it looked out over a dark Pacific. The engines, a subtle sound, changed pitch. Not many could hear the change. Some were too old, others too young.
The Island was rising now, bringing the sunset nearer, and its light felt cold as we ascended into space. I heard a sort of grunt and turned. The window’s hatched shadows crossed and recrossed my friend’s pale face, giving a sort of black and white effect, like a shot from those old movies my grandfather liked. The thought crossed my mind that things could sometimes feel more real the less natural they were. Artificiality, or the artifice of it, seemed to bring my companion’s character into sharp relief.
He smiled into the colorless light, but not with his eyes.
“I’m telling you,” he went on. “There’s reasons we’re going into space before the sea. Heaven is dead, or else, we’re pretty sure of that, for now.” A chuckle. “Down there, we don’t really dare look. Every time we do, we find…” he smacked his lips.
Setting his glass down, he turned back to me. His eyes seemed softer now, though it might be that he had hurt them staring at the sun. From inside his jacket, he pulled out a drive and handed it to me. The little piece of metal felt cold in my palm.
“I’ve seen the pattern now. This job burns a man up quickly. I’ve lasted longer than most. Twenty years.” He looked away from me. “Never made head of the department. That’s fine. Of all the people I’d want at the top, you’ll do swell, kid. Me, I’ll keep doing what I do. It can be hard to accept at first, but I know they briefed you. So, that means you’re coming at this thing seeing what they’ve told you to see. Soon, reality will break through or kill you. My best advice, kid, don’t take what they tell you for gospel. That’s the accepted lie, and being at the top, you’re going to have to learn how to spit it back at them when they ask questions. But, when you’re on the ground, you’re going to have to face facts. Don’t envy you. It’s ruined good men before you. You’ll have to be a very good liar to tell them the truth. They won’t hear it unless you present it to them right. Me, I can’t do that. I’ll simply state facts. Fact, people are dead. Fact, we knew they would die. Fact, we bloody well went ahead anyway because we’re oh-so-scientific and know better than history. Fact, and this is one we’re not going to say in swank offices or on television, we always have to have a catastrophe like this every few years.” There was no smile on his face anymore, not even the pretense. “I don’t have facts after that, only theories and madness. The pattern continues, and they’re going to order you, at some point, to do something you know will get a lot of people killed. Your choice, then. You do it, and I’ll watch your soul wither away like Captain Brown. You can say no and have your whole reputation ruined like Captain Harcourt. He’s certified now. It may be a good education to visit him on one of your shore leaves. Or, you can stymy them, find a way to say yes and no out of both sides of your mouth, keep your men alive and not lose your position. Me, I don’t play the game, I just tell the truth, or try to. I’ve kept the Island floating since I was seventeen. Made head engineer back in ’83, and I’ll be retired whether I like it or not in the next five years. So, for five years, I can promise you she’ll fly, but I haven’t found a replacement.”
He stood.
“I like you, Captain. You hear the engines change and brace before we lift. You’re going to have to keep that up and be one step ahead the whole time. I’ve given you all I know. You may call it lunatic ramblings, but I just never learned how to say things softly, artfully, is all.”
Tale Told 