It was odd, being back here. Home? In a way, yes. So many memories of her were attached to this place and so many emotions still anchored to them. He couldn’t sit still, waiting for the appointment and so he chatted with an agent and smiled wolfishly as a hunting mission was assigned. “Viral Agent not gonna be crossin the border t’day, no sir.”
He looked to his ships available and grinned as he got into the Dragonette, a Vagabond. Frigates and cruisers tried to defend the Slaver ships but he swatted them aside like so many flies. He took the time to sweep through the wreckage and rescue what slaves he could, dropping them off at a nearby Scope Station where he had some friends. The delivery of the Viral agent was swiftly accomplished andjust in time, he headed down to see what Scotty needed.
It wasn’t just Scotty there, in the hanger. A large crowd was milling about, most looking like common laborers of some planetside facility. Scotty waved him over to where he and Ev were standing. “Sorry for the cloak and dagger but it was supposed to be a surprise.”
“What?” Mike did not recognize any of the faces and was impressed by the size of the crowd, hanger space had been cleared to make room for all of the people.
Ev tried to explain. “She dun set dis up before she . . . well she knew it would take some time to get right so the wheels was in motion a ways back. You know . . . before” He choked on the last word and looked away.
“Set what up?” Mike whispered.
“Dem.” Ev waved a hand out at the people in the hanger. “She sent invites to all she could find and you do keep good records. Dey your people.”
“Tanta is out there?” Mike craned his neck to try to see her.
“No, mon. You no get it. Dey YOUR people. The ones you been buying and saving and helping. She said, ‘He does things without meeting them. I doubt he would know them if they came up and . . . ‘ Den she got this far-away look in her eyes and started planning dis. These folks, dey all used ta be slaves. Some still are, according to court papers. But they all here because she offered dem a chance ta come here. It was . . . is her gift to you.”
“Dee” Mike couldn’t see through the tears. “She did this?”
“Ya mon. Now don’t you go messing up her gift. You go do this right.” Ev shoved Mike with a gentle hand out into the crowd, most of whom had been patiently waiting, listening.
I don’t have to be an immortal to know nothing will ever top that night. I could live forever and not know more love, more thanks than I had for Dee and what she did for me. It is true, locked away in our pods we miss seeing the faces, hearing the voices, keeping in touch with our humanity. That was her true gift to me, reconnecting me. God I miss her.
Personal Journal M. Azariah
My Dad loved his grandchildren. He would do anything for them and shopped very early for just the right presents. Some he would buy, years in advance “She will like this when she is older” When he died I found a small stockpile of presents for my daughters. These were given at the appropriate Christmas’s. It is surreal to have a daughter ask. “Who is this from?” and when told ‘Grandpa’ her automatic response was “The live one or the dead one?”
My Dad didn’t need implants or clones to get his own immortality.
Miss ya Dad
fly it like you won it