Pennsylvania

Chapter 5 Sleep

Jed felt the gold coin pressing into the ball of his foot, and the feeling that he’d been doing something terribly wrong made it hard for him to focus on what the TP officer was saying to him.

Every five minutes or so, a small box up near the ceiling in the room would spray a fine mist into the air. The air smelled of artificial flowers and sweet chemicals, and Jed wondered if perhaps this was some aerosolized version of Quadrille, used to make arrested persons more compliant. He didn’t know, and not knowing made him feel even worse. Everything in the office was plastic and metal and temporary, and Jed contrasted it with the essence of permanence he’d experienced back at his family’s farm.

Officer Rheems of the Transport Police commanded Jed to “remove his shoes and any articles of jewelry” and place them in the rubber bin under his chair. He slipped off his shoes and made sure to tip them forward so that the gold coin in the right one would slide unnoticed toward the toe. He placed the shoes into the bin and then folded his hands on his lap. He wore no jewelry or other personal adornment of any kind. He didn’t like not knowing what was going to happen to him. He was nervous. He was frightened. For the first time that he could remember in all of his life, he felt fully powerless and exposed.

Rheems ordered him to stand up and put his hands on the opposite wall, and a thorough pat-down search commenced, adding to Jed’s sense that he was some kind of criminal and that he was, therefore, doomed.

“Sit back down in the chair,” Rheems said. The Transport cop looked over to the other man, Conrad, and nodded his head to indicate that the search had been completed.

Conrad glared at him coldly. Jed could detect no human feeling or care or empathy coming from the man. This was a man who did everything by the book, and it was obvious that he didn’t let anything—emotions, mercy, kindness—affect his decisions.

“Jed Troyer, son, you are charged with a felony count of insurrectionist discussions with terroristic intent. You are not only charged, but you are already convicted, by the way.” Conrad walked around the desk and stood in front of Jed. “Once you left the AZ and boarded official Transport, you were no longer protected under the Richmond Ruling, and you’ve waived all rights as a Plain Person in order to travel out of the AZ. Every individual who boards and engages official Transport agrees to waive any right they have to an attorney, to a trial by jury, et cetera. They also agree to submit themselves to the absolute judgment of the Transport Authority. That’s us. You signed a document agreeing to what I’ve just laid out for you, and now you’ve been found to be in violation of Transport law. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

“I don’t think so, sir. I don’t understand what I’ve done that was wrong,” Jed said.

“You engaged in a public conversation where blatant violations of law were discussed and planned. Specifically, traveler Jerry Rios, who is now in custody as well, discussed with you in detail his intention, upon his arrival in New Pennsylvania, to remove his TRID implant—which would be a felony—and then to escape and illegally join you in the AZ there. Do you deny these charges?”

“I don’t deny that he said these things. I didn’t say them, or agree with them though.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, even if you denied it. It doesn’t matter if you said anything or agreed or disagreed. Failure to report insurrectionist activities immediately to Transport authorities is evidence of criminal conspiracy. We have the whole conversation recorded, and you have waived your right to trial. You’ve been declared guilty, and now it just remains for us to decide what to do with you.” Conrad looked over at Rheems, then stared back at Jed with hostility in his eyes.

“Am I going to be sent to Oklahoma?” Jed asked. That was the worst thing he could think of, so he figured he’d get right to the point. He wanted to look the thing square in the face if that was what was going to happen to him. Nobody wanted to be sent into exile in Oklahoma… and exile was the punishment of choice for Transport crimes. The horror stories about Oklahoma were widely believed to be true. Exile was tantamount to the death penalty.

“Well, that’s what we need to determine, Jed. Normally it would be an automatic thing. In fact, historically we would have taken you and Rios off of your airbus and put you directly on a prison airbus to Oklahoma.”

Jed didn’t know what to say to that. The fact that the normal response to his crime had not been followed gave him hope that he might still avoid permanent exile in the wastelands, where he would be helpless among the society’s worst criminals. He just stared back at Rheems, not wanting to say anything that might make his case worse.

“But…” Conrad said, exhaling heavily, “there are some problems going on in the exile lands right now, and we can’t get any Transport vehicles in or out. So we have to decide what to do with you and Rios short of just casting you into Oklahoma.”

* * *

Jed spent the next thirty minutes squirming in his chair. Rheems looked up from his work occasionally and scowled whenever Jed would inadvertently bang his knee against the desk or knock his elbow against the chair next to him. The area where the catheter had been placed itched and irritated him, and he kept imagining the ship leaving for New Pennsylvania without him. Conrad had, according to Rheems, “gone to see the magistrate,” whatever that meant, and Jed was left to cool his heels, hanging perilously between the possibility of being exiled for life to Oklahoma, and some other fate he could not even imagine.

When Conrad returned to the security office, he didn’t waste any time letting Jed know that his fate had been determined.

“Okay, get up. Get your shoes on. Looks like you got really lucky. You’re going on your trip. The magistrate has decided to send you on to New Pennsylvania and remand your case over to the court there. We’re not allowed to hold you here indefinitely, and we can’t get any form of transport into the exile lands, so grab whatever belongs to you and let’s get you on your ship.”

Jed slipped on his shoes, and when he stood up, Hugh Conrad was standing only inches from him. The older man leaned in toward him in a way that seemed threatening. Jed wondered if the man had somehow seen the gold coin in his shoe. No. There’s no way he could have seen it.

“Be glad you’ll be asleep all the way to New PA, pal,” Conrad said. “That way you can’t get yourself into any more trouble.”

The remainder of the boarding process passed in a flash compared to the torture of waiting in the security office to learn of his fate. As Jed walked into the ship, his heart pounded and his palms grew clammy and damp. An attendant, seeing that he was nervous, led him to his pod and helped him to settle in. The pods on this level were aligned not unlike the benches on the airbus that brought him to West Texas. Rather than rudimentary seats, however, the pods themselves were egg-shaped cocoons with heavy lids that could be closed once the passenger was lying inside and the takeoff process was about to begin. Each pod lid had a large glass window embedded in it so that the passengers who chose the active monitoring option could be checked regularly during the duration of the flight. Jed thought it strange that there were Transport employees who would make the flight in Earth time and, other than the regular kind of daily sleep, would remain awake for the entire voyage. This meant that they were giving up almost a decade of their lives to the one interstellar flight that they would ever make. It’s a good thing these flights are subsidized, Jed thought. No one could afford the trip otherwise.

Jed’s ticket had cost him five hundred thousand unis. He expected that he might have to spend another two hundred thousand in transit. Converted back into Amish money, a man couldn’t even build a really good barn for that amount of money.

Before receiving the extra unis from Dawn, Jed had always figured he’d be broke upon arriving in New Pennsylvania, just like his ancestors had been when they first came to America. His land, if he qualified, would eventually be free. He was planning to live and work with his boyhood friend Matthias until he could build his own place. The Plain People took care of their own, so he knew if he could ever get to the AZ on his new planet, he’d be taken care of.

The nurse hooked up his life-support system, attached a tube to his catheter, and typed on some kind of computer screen that was built into the wall of the pod. Jed heard a beep, and then he felt a slight buzz of vibration emanating from the band on his wrist. He looked up at the nurse with a look of concern on his face, and she smiled back at him.

“That’s just to indicate that your account has been charged the additional one hundred thousand unis to pay for active monitoring. You chose this option when you paid for your ticket, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, good. We’ll leave the lid open until we’re just about ready to take off. Whenever you’re set to go under, press the blue button near your right hand and you’ll be out in less than a minute. A lot of people choose to go under immediately. I think it eliminates the short period of worry that people have at the beginning of any journey, and it makes the flight seem shorter to them. So, whenever you’re ready, just hit the button, and when you open your eyes again, you’ll be in New Pennsylvania!”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He looked up at her, and he knew that the worry that he felt was not only his concern about being turned over to the courts when he got to his new home planet. Deep inside of him, perhaps unrecognized and unexamined until now, was a fear that the ship would never get to New Pennsylvania at all.

That’s why he’d paid for active monitoring, even though the Amish colonization agent had advised him against it. He felt safer knowing that someone who was awake would check on him regularly to make sure nothing had gone wrong with his life-support system. Maybe doing it had showed a lack of faith, but it definitely made him feel better about the trip.

“Ma’am… have you or the pilots… well… have any of you done this before?”

The nurse laughed. “No. No one on this flight has ever done this before, sir. It’s a one-way flight, remember?”

“Yes. I suppose.”

“Don’t worry now. It’s as safe a trip as Transport, with all their technology and expertise, can make it. Everything is run by computers anyway. You’ll open your eyes and it’ll feel like you’ve just had a good night’s rest, and we’ll be there.”

“Okay. And thank you.”

“No problem. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you on the other side.”

The nurse walked away, and as she did, Jed tapped his toe and remembered that the gold coin was still in his shoe. He knew he was still going to be in trouble when… if… he ever made it to New Pennsylvania, and he didn’t want to add to his crimes.

Without taking much time to think about it or debate with himself, he leaned forward and removed the coin from his shoe. He looked around to see if anyone was watching him, but everyone he could see was either already unconscious, or was busy preparing for the flight. He felt around under his chair with his right hand, and he found a tight joint between the chair pad and the frame. He pressed the gold coin into the gap and felt around the joint with his finger to make sure the coin didn’t stick out where it might be seen by a nurse checking on him during the long years of flight.

Moments later, he was glad he’d taken the coin out of his shoes. The same attendant came back through the level and asked everyone for their shoes. She took each pair and placed it in a spring-loaded box that was attached to the base of each pod. When she took Jed’s shoes, she smiled at him and said, “There now, you look better already!”

He watched as she finished out the level and then disappeared through a curtain.

Lying there, he couldn’t figure out a reason to stay awake any longer. He was already sick with worry, and he knew if he decided to lie there awhile, he’d fret about what was going to happen to him when the flight was over.

He took a deep breath, and images of his brother Amos and his mother and father flashed through his mind. As he reflected on them, he reached down with his right hand again and pressed the blue button. He almost immediately felt a cool sensation enter his veins, and the effect was startling, although strangely pleasant. As he lay back against the soft padding of the seat and turned his head to his right, he began to experience the strong narcotic effect of whatever medication was now coursing through him. He’d never experienced any drug—had never taken Quadrille. The sensation was bizarre.

Just before his eyes closed, he noticed a face in the pod next to him that was looking back at him with a smile. His eyes fluttered and he tried to concentrate, but the darkness was coming and he couldn’t fight it off. He knew the face, but the name was slow in coming, and it occurred to him only just as the lights went out.

Dawn.