The Jovian Legacy Page 2

  They’ll probably catch germs, he thinks.

  Along with his small cousin, Jack gazes in awe as people dance around the fire, their eyes widening as the friends of their parents dance faster, and Jack becomes scared that someone is going to get burnt. He is old enough to understand the dangers of fire. Everyone is smiling and laughing. His Aunt Pippa moves along with his uncle.

  Man, it’s like she is part of him. How does she know how to move in exactly the same direction as him? Jack wonders in awe.

  The long, straight length of his aunt’s hair flicks and snakes, flicks and snakes, her blue organza dress folding and unfolding as she dances. Jack thinks she is awfully pretty. She is his mother’s younger sister and, dare he think it, much prettier.

  The waves crashing on the beach catch his attention; his aunt and uncle dash towards them, hand-in-hand.

  Jack’s cousin Josh squeals. “Mummy and Daddy are going for a swim. I wanna go too!” He runs down after them, his parents seemingly unaware of him. After a few minutes the little boy’s mother and father collapse on each other, laughing. Thinking they were playing a game, Josh jumps over them excitedly. Their behaviour is very strange to Jack, who wishes he was back home with his parents, as camping isn’t fun anymore.

  Sitting back in front of his computer Jack removed his helmet, staring at the blank screen. He had forgotten about that camping trip; after all, he’d only been four at the time.

  The screen flashed again, and the image of his parents was back. This time Jack typed frantically to properly establish the sound connection, albeit barely audible.

  “Hello, Jack,” his father spoke. “Please don’t be alarmed, but we didn’t perish at sea. We’re in a safe place. It’s taken us years to reach communication with you. We’re now part of a research program that is run by scientists far ahead of our time in a world known as Jovian. The solar system which Jovian is in is thirty-five light years from Earth. The people here are just like us; only their intellect goes beyond even the most ingenious minds of our own scientists. They’ve found cures for all types of cancers, including leukaemia, have absolutely no viruses, and have no human or animal deformities or disabilities whatsoever. People are living longer, some are well into their hundreds, but they don’t look it as their skin always stays young.” He paused for Jack’s reaction, the two of them glancing at each other.

  His mother picked up from where Ben left off. “We’re in a pioneer program of establishing communication with our loved ones on Earth. There are thousands of other people here from Earth, people who went missing in the Bermuda Triangle on yachts and planes. Please, Jack, believe that it’s us and not just computer wizardry.”

  Jack’s head was spinning. He spoke nervously into the mike. “Mum, Dad, hello - I don’t know what to say…….I love you?” he faltered.

  “Jack,” his mother said in a soothing tone. “We love you too, Dear. Please, don’t be afraid. We just want to reach out and hug you. Maybe we’ll be able to return one day. We’re just so happy to have come this far and be able to see and hear you. The research team want you to type in the date of the thirtieth of August 1994 - the day we officially went missing. They want you to understand just what happened that day.” Jack nodded, not saying a word.

  The next morning he prepared himself again to go off into the unknown. His heart raced as he punched in the date ‘30th August 1994 - two hours’. Within seconds he was observing from a distance the yacht in which his parents were sailing. Jack’s perspective was of a satellite view. As his virtual reality device zoomed in on the yacht, he could see his parents on the deck.

  His father pulls up the spinnaker, his mother at the helm. Jack’s parents are in high spirits, happily chatting loudly to each other. Both are clad in jerseys, rainproof trousers and bright yellow jackets. They suddenly turn to each other with confused expressions. Jack’s reality visor returns to a higher altitude and he can’t believe what he sees: A curtain of shimmering light, a veil of water shaped in the form of a triangle around a kilometre across at each point, and reaching through the clouds. His parents swiftly furl the sails and desperately try to change course. Unbeknown to them their yacht is in a gravitational pull. As their yacht enters the triangular veil, Jack sees a luminous green light beneath the surface of the water, following the line of the veil. As the yacht slips through the curtain, it’s vision is jelly-like, then liquefies and dissolves into thin air. Jack then notices a luminous green laser beam zap down to where the yacht had been, and within that Jack sees a quivering block of colour shoot up at lightning speed beyond the clouds and into infinity. The veil then gradually dissolves, and Jack’s view changes to a gentle rolling open sea of nothingness.

  He feels shocked and confused. Remembering that he had keyed in two hours this time, he wonders what he is supposed to do next. Something catches his eye, and he looks up to see a mass of luminous green light coming straight at him at lightning speed. Jack loses control of himself as he feels a strong pull, and finds himself being propelled upwards. It reminds him of the great thrust of a plane as it propels along the tarmac for lift-off. There is nothing he can do except pray, pray that he isn’t being sent into the black hole of space.

  His journey swiftly changes. After the initial pull, and although travelling faster than the speed of light, he feels like he is floating. It is a calm, reassuring sensation and Jack cannot understand why. Something is taking control of his emotions, and he feels anxious to get there, wherever ‘there’ is. Jack becomes sleepy and dozes off, and dreams of flying.

  Wherever he was heading, Jack didn’t find out as his two hours were up and he found himself back at the computer. His tiny computer clock said 4.01 p.m. - two hours from when he had logged on. He figured that had he really been travelling for two hours, faster than the speed of light, he would have been nowhere near home, maybe even halfway to where he was heading, halfway to where his parents were.

  Were they really my parents though?

  Jack grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge. Outside the black Volvo Estate had returned, this time with the two men leaning against it, one smoking, watching his flat. As Jack ran down to confront them they scrambled inside and drove off. Jack scissor-jumped the gate and managed to catch the number-plate. What he saw disturbed him. It wasn’t a New Zealand plate. The black background to the plate intensified the luminous green lettering of JOVIAN.

  “What the hell is going on?” he questioned himself aloud.

  After some ringing around Jack was told that NZTA had no record of the plate. He replaced the receiver.

  A scheduled tour of the university Jack was intending to go to was on the next day. He felt relieved to get away from his computer for a while, as he thought it was too much for a seventeen-year-old to handle, right now anyway.

  As Jack was being led through the university with his group, a school friend ran up to him.

  “G’day mate!” Shaun greeted with a red-faced grin, “haven’t seen ya around for a while. How are ya? You look a bit off colour..”

  This was all Jack needed. A counselling session from one of his unruly mates. “Nah, I’m okay, she’ll be right. What are ya gonna study?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Engineering.” Shaun replied, filing in with the group of students.

  “Cool.” Jack said, keeping the conversation short. Shaun, taking the hint, went on ahead.

  Mates are mates and sometimes like to make a mockery out of things, he regarded.

  For the rest of the day Jack tried to concentrate on the guided tour, but his thoughts kept pulling him back to unanswered questions and deep-seated anger over it all. In the Faculty of Medical and Health Science room, a young woman caught Jack’s attention. It was obvious that the girl’s attendance was for one reason only, her attention engrossed in the dialogue of the tour guide, occasionally dipping her head to jot some notes down. Though Jack thought she looked to be a lot younger than other students there.

  Must be open day for the year el
evens.

  There was something about her that prompted Jack to want to speak to her, apart from the fact that she was incredibly attractive.

  Her name was Megan, and she came from Canterbury where she had lived on a sheep station. During school holidays she helped her father muster sheep, and generally mucked-in with her brothers and farm workers. In turn, Megan came to be intrigued by Jack. Naturally, as with all students, Megan spent hours in front of a computer as well. Still, she thought Jack knew a little more about computers than she did - there was something about him that told her so.

  Megan was younger, two and half years younger than Jack in fact, but mature beyond her years. Their friendship grew, and soon they were spending a lot of time together.

  For something different to do Jack took Megan out on a fishing charter. The charter boat moored in a pretty cove with water so clear they could see blue mau mau darting back and forth in synchronised precision. A chilly breeze developed, but the pair were happily oblivious to it, and made the most of the day. As they ate their lunch they talked about their interests, about school stuff, and about what they wanted to do after they finished uni.

  Megan found something mysterious about Jack; it was as if he was holding something back, but she couldn’t figure out what, as he seemed so genuine and happy. Jack became enamoured with Megan and felt that he had known her somewhere before, but knew it was highly unlikely, telling himself he was probably only thinking about his mother. No matter what, they agreed, for now they would simply enjoy each other’s company and not pressure each other into anything serious. It was this mutual respect that allowed the friendship to grow.

  In any case, Jack considered, I still feel like I need to do a lot of growing up. And he secretly believed he wouldn’t know what to do with a ‘serious girlfriend’.

  Jack had no intention of sharing his last few weeks’ experiences with Megan, not yet anyway, her being the last person he would want thinking of him as a lunatic. Well that is what he feared, and he didn’t want to scare her off. To Jack, Megan was too good a catch to blow it.

  Several weeks later Jack had the urge to make contact with his parents again. He sat at his computer and logged onto the program. Five small windows appeared across his screen. The first one showed himself at six years old on the tray of his father’s tractor; the second showed himself being born; the third, his mother and father smiling at him; the fourth, his camping trip, and the fifth displayed him looking down at his parents’ yacht in the great vastness of the ocean.

  “Far out!” he cried, stunned.

  Thumbnails of his experiences. Jack found this extremely weird. Weirder still, he thought, was the wording accompanying each thumbnail.

  It read, “If you wish to alter the course of events in any of the above, please click on the icon of your choosing.”

  What, now I can alter my life history simply by typing in whatever I choose? Jack thought wildly. This is crazy!

  Suddenly he felt daring. What if I played around a little. After all, it’s just a computer, he precariously thought.

  Jack typed beneath the icon showing his birthing movie, typing in an imaginary situation, with a duration of three hours. Excited, he donned his virtual reality helmet.

  Jack feels warm again, and wet and claustrophobic, back in the confined space of his mother’s womb. Water sloshes around him, and he hears the now familiar sounds of his mother’s groaning and crying out in pain. He once again senses the muscles contracting as his body is being forced down the vaginal cavity, his mother’s pelvic area expanding, making way for him. He feels again a huge surge of muscle, a shriek of pain, and someone’s gloved hands on his head. His eyes remain shut while the doctor’s hands expertly manoeuvre him out from the warmth. He cries. A soft nappy is wrapped around his tiny unwashed body and he is placed in his mother’s arms again. Jack opens his eyes. This time he can see her plainly, and can also understand what they’re saying.

  “Oh my, I got meself a little pappy - Oh Johnson, look what we’s got!”

  “You is so clever, Boo” her husband spoke. “What we’s got sure gonna be good. We gonna be a good family, Boo. Now we got seven little pappies, we’s sure gonna have a good time!”

  Excellent! Jack nearly says out loud, realising with astonishment that he is black, born into a large African American family in the 1960s.

  This is going to be so so cool.

  He is bathed and given to his black mother. Jack is now worried, as he knows what happens next. A huge brown breast looms towards him that is bigger than his entire body, the nipple being unceremoniously shoved into his little mouth, causing him to gag. He isn’t so sure of it being cool anymore, and turns his face away from the monster mound, thrusting out his little arm.

  Everyone in the room is taken aback. “How did he know how to do that,” a nurse says, the staff looking at each other blankly.

  Jack is whisked away and placed in a crib, in a temperate room with other newborns. Most are sleeping but a few are crying. Jack watches the faces of women walking past. Then at the ceiling, considering that other babies had much the same boring view. A young mother peers into his crib and smiles and him. He wonders what he looks like and turns his head, making out his reflection in the plastic side of the crib.

  Yep, I’m black all right! he deems, scrutinising his big brown eyes and button nose with puffed-up rosy pink lips. Jack sticks out his tongue at his reflection.

  Black as ebony…this is going to be fun.

  More babies cry. This annoys him.

  “Will you shut the hell up!” he yells in a voice so high and tight that it even gives him a fright.

  He hears a tray of cups and bowls crash to the floor. The other babies are now screaming, and Jack looks up to see a nurse’s face, her expression of sheer terror. She flees the room, and within moments a team of doctors and nurses gather around his crib.

  Better play it cool now, he says to himself.

  The sea of faces stares at him; Jack stares back, tight-lipped.

  A doctor’s attention turns to the nurse. “Nurse Carter, have you been rostered on too many shifts? I know we’re short staffed, but if it’s going to affect you, we can’t take risks. These babies require round-the-clock care and if you feel it’s too much for you I will arrange for another nurse to cover your shift.”

  “No…I’ll be fine, thank you, doctor. I think I’m just a little tired,” she replies, confused, smoothing her uniform nervously. Jack watches her intently. An embarrassed Nurse Carter attends to the other babies, who begin to settle down. Another nurse lifts Jack from his crib, taking his temperature and making a few notes. Jack notices the tag she places at the base of his crib: “24-hour monitoring required”.

  Oh boy! I’m going to have fun! he wickedly thinks.

  He is taken in to his mother who cradles and smiles at him.

  Jack bites his lip. Shall I or shan’t I? He smiles back at her in a wide cheesy grin.

  “Omigod, Omigod! Nurse!” she screams, holding Jack away from her. “My baby! My baby! He smiled at me! He only two hours’ old! He too young to do that! I given birth to the devil! Yeh, he the devil! Take him away!”

  A nurse quickly takes the now angelic-looking Jack from her and into a different room. He is placed in another crib and a team of doctors gather around him. They write notes, take his temperature, scrutinise him and write more notes. Jack remains quiet throughout. After a few minutes they leave. Jack sees that one nurse has stayed back to keep an eye on him. She is seated by the window and has opened her book - a novel written by Virginia Andrews entitled Flowers in the Attic.

  He feels the urge again, stretching out his little black arms and pulling himself up into the sitting position in his crib, grinning to himself. “Bloody good story, poor kids to have a mother like that that leaves them all cooped up in that room for three years, aye.”

  The nurse drops her book and she screams, so loud the entire ward of babies start screaming again too. Bedlam. Jack lays t
here giggling hopelessly, laughing so much he piddles himself. He makes sure he is quiet when the doctors come rushing back in. Pretending to be asleep, Jack listens to them talking. One of the doctors says, “I think we need the senior paediatrician and a psychiatrist to take a look at this baby.”

  Jack peeps at the clock. Another half an hour to go, and wonders if he should cool it.

  Nah, half an hour’s not long. May as well make the most of it, he thought, trying not to grin.

  He watches the doctor dialling numbers on the big black phone attached to the wall of the ward, placing the phone up to his ear.

  Jack cups his little round hands over his mouth. “I’m sorry, your call cannot be connected due to overloading, please try again.” The doctor, ever so slowly, removes the phone from his ear and turns towards Jack, approaching him with an unfathomable look on his face. It is a look of horror and anger, which unnerves Jack a little. The doctor picks up Baby Jack, who had wrapped himself back up in his blanket and tucked his arms back in. The doctor holds Jack at eye level, the pair looking intently at each other.

  “What are you?” the doctor said in a very methodical voice. Jack gazes at him innocently. “What are you?” he repeats, a little louder. Jack peeps at the clock. Twenty minutes to go.

  “Well,” Jack replies sweetly. “Me’s a little black boy - can’t ya tell?”

  The doctor quavers. Jack notices the beads of sweat that have suddenly appeared on his forehead.

  “Young man. How old do you think you are? I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a…” he says, keeping his grip firm.

  This time Jack wriggles his arms free and claps his hands together. “Oh, I’m actually seventeen, but you see, I have this computer and I asked it to take me back to my birthday so I could know what it’s like to be born again.” The doctor awkwardly places Jack back into his crib, turns and walks stiffly out of the neonatal unit and into the hall. Jack then hears a noise of someone dropping to the floor, then the running clatter of shoes. In a few minutes Jack hears a siren and sits up in his crib, craning his neck to see out the window. An old American police car with its flashing turret light, draws up alongside the front doors. Jack is aware that he has opened a can of worms.