Our people were going to have to get a whole lot more aggressive, though, to push beyond the comfort of our peaceful enclaves. We were going to have to experiment with terraforming Earth’s dead regions, hoping it doesn’t backfire somehow and wipe us all out. And there are plans to try once again to establish a Mars colony. The thinking is that eventually Earth will die and the best chance for human survival is to inhabit more than one planet.
Mary needed help walking on the dead tree crossing the stream, so I supported her by placing my hands under her arms from behind and guiding her across. She winced when my fingers accidentally touched her back.
The moonlight lit tiny waves rippling over stones and branches. Fireflies blinked on and off throughout the forest and all along the stream.
It was a beautiful night, yet we found ourselves in the midst of human-created ugliness.
When we got to the place where we had landed our ship, Mary stood still. She put her hands to her mouth, as though trying to stifle her words or the amount of shock she was experiencing. She said, “You came down from da heavens in dis?”
I knew of the religion from her space-time. I said, “This is how we came here. We don’t have wings.”
Mary said, “You told me dat you’re an angel helper. Do da angels have wings?”
I said, “Yes. Yes, they do.” I had no idea about that, but better not to interfere with her belief system.
Waylon separated the panels that allowed entry into the pod.
I told Mary to follow him.
Extraordinarily trusting of us, she followed.
When we got inside, she marveled at everything. She had never seen furniture or utensils or tools like ours. She’d never seen holographic artwork. She’d never seen light that didn’t come from a natural source, never seen lamps that didn’t have flames flickering inside them. She accepted it all by believing that we were supernatural beings and these were simply manifestations of our extraordinary powers.
I led her to the medical bay. I asked her to remove her dress and any undergarment covering her back.
She cried as her dress and an underdress ripped more skin from her back.
When she’d completely exposed her back, I asked her to lie on her stomach on the treatment table. I explained the procedure she was about to go through. Heat and light would wash over her back. It would hurt, but it would sterilize and knit her skin together. It would be almost healed when we were done. Ointment would do the rest, and that would be soothing. I told her to keep her eyes closed.
Mary said, “I am ready.”
I moved to the edge of the room. I blinked to make my contact lenses shield my eyes and to turn down the amount of empathy I would feel, so that I could run the procedure through to the end.
I said, “I’m going to begin now.”
Mary shrieked as the light and heat covered her back and intensified streams of it moved up and down each and every laceration. She screamed for the entire duration of the treatment. At the end, when I could see on my contact lenses that the lacerations had knitted almost entirely together and the pus and infection were gone, I initiated the soothing part of the treatment. Ointment was sprayed along every gash where she had been whipped.
Mary cried, I’m sure at that point from relief.
I asked how she felt.
Her body was trembling, but she said, “Good. Most o’ da pain in mah back is gone.”
I pushed a button. Table-length mirrors rose on either side of her. I said, “Look at your back.”
Forgetting modesty, she lifted herself up on her elbows, exposing her breasts. She gazed in the mirrors, a look of astonishment crossing her face. She said, “I’m healed.”
I said, “Just about. In the next couple of hours, everything will heal completely.”
She dressed. I gave her potion to drink that would speed the healing process. I wanted to give her stronger medicine, but this was the only one deemed safe for pregnant women. She said that it didn’t taste like anything she’d ever eaten or drank before, which had to be true. It came from a pungent plant developed and grown in the healers’ enclave.
After crossing the stream on our way back, gingerly balancing herself on the tree trunk, not needing any help this time, Mary turned to me and said, “May I pray tuh you fuh another favuh?”
I said, “You can.” We’d see afterward if I could answer it.
She said, “I have two babies dat was taken from me. Aftuh we escape, when I am truly free, I want tuh find dem. Will you watch ovah me and mah babies from heaven and help me find dem?”
I said, “Sure.” People from many eras prayed all the time. Hundreds, thousands of prayers went unanswered. No one really expected to have all their prayers answered. All those unanswered prayers just got tucked away in the back of people’s minds. They kept praying until the day they died, thinking God hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I knew I could promise Mary I’d help her and at the very end of her life, if she hadn’t been reunited with her children, she’d just tell herself I must have a long list of prayers to answer before getting to hers. On the other hand, if we found that the Law of Noninterference wasn’t necessary, I’d look for Mary’s children and bring her to them if she wanted. I liked this woman. She’d suffered enough.
By the time we stepped out of the forest, the moon was directly overhead. We walked to the barn and were coming around it when we heard loud voices.
Mary grabbed me by the arm. She said, “Oh, no, massuh’s back! He wasn’t supposed tuh be back tuhnight!”
We hid behind the barn.
Mary said, “Hear dat yellin? Dat massuh’s voice. He down by da men’s slave cabin—where Jessey and Henry sleep.”
We listened to the voices, and Mary told us who they belonged to.
Master: Where is Mary? You tell me right now! I ain’t gonna have any nigger o’ mine walkin’ off. I heard the rumors about you all plannin’ ta go get your freedom. Where is Mary?
His words were slurred, his voice growling.
Jessey: I don’t know wha Mary is. I don’t know. She wasn’t feelin’ good tuhday and went tuh huh cabin soon’s as huh work was done.
Master: You son of a bitch! You know where she is. You tell me right now!
Then, quiet. We watched as the plantation owner came up a hill and crossed the lawn into the main house.
Mary led the way down to the men’s quarters, which turned out to be a log cabin, but larger than the one Mary stayed in.
She ran up to one of two men standing outside the building. They embraced. I couldn’t hear what she was saying from where Waylon and I were hiding in the shadows.
Mary brought the two men over to us. The one she had hugged, obviously Jessey, had tears in his eyes. He said, “You are da sign we need. You ansuhed mah prayer fuh God and our guardian angels tuh watch ovah us. We leavin’ here tunight. We have people gonna get us all da way up north. It gettin’ dangerous here, since the massuh heard ’bout bunch o’ slaves leavin’ da plantation couple miles down da road.”
Dogs started barking. Torches moved in the night, burning through the darkness like fiery ghosts. Men shouted.
The plantation owner had gathered a bunch of men. I had no idea who they were. Neighbors? Paid workers?
He pointed at our group. I doubt he saw Waylon and me for what we were. We would have appeared only as humanoid shapes in the darkness. We moved behind two trees that were close to each other. He said, “Those two! You get those two!”
I thought for a moment he meant Waylon and me. It turned out he meant Jessey and Henry.
A group of men grabbed them and wrestled each of them over to a separate tree. Slamming their stomachs against the bark, they pulled their arms around the trunk and tied their hands together on the other side. They ripped their shirts off their backs.