The Ceremonial Temple
was as silent as ever, just like it always was before the switch-off ritual.
Ben Alki Mazrouth took a deep breath. He didn’t mind this moment so much. He
found it magical in a way, waiting for this most solemn of ceremonies to begin.
Everything was as it should be. All the metal and veriglass fittings had been
polished so that they reflected the bright lights from the chandeliers back up
to the high ceiling. He cast an eye along the rows of plush comfisessels. They
were hovering gently, waiting for the well-wishers to come and sit on them. He
made his way over to the big plastikholz doors, which looked so solid they
could convince you they were the really heavy wood like in the Citadel of
Elders. He took another big breath and then opened first the right hand door
and then the left. The mourners were waiting for him.
They all filed
in and sit down. He was used to the sad faces. He had served as the celebrant
for one hundred of these rituals now. He knew just how impressive that was for
someone as young as him. It was probably time he stopped though it was easier
just to carry on. At least now he knew what to expect.
They sat down in
the comfisessels, which swung and tipped to and fro a little, seeking a balancing
point. One or two of the well-wishers whispered to each other. Others just
stared, looking at nothing in particular. They all sat rigidly, some on the
edge of their sessels, others picking imaginary fluff off their ceremonial
purple tunics.
Ben Alki heard
the tiny bleep which meant that Kemnat had arrived.
“All rise to
greet the departant,” Ben Alki called.
The family
members were the first to get up on to their feet. They were followed soon
after by the good friends in the outer rows. Those watching through the
veriglass windows were already standing. There had not been enough room to
offer them floating comfisessels or even old-fashioned hardsessels. The departant
was one of the most popular elders Terrestra had ever known. On the dataserve concealed
beneath his lectern Ben Alki could see the crowd outside. They were watching
via the huge dataserve screens. Suddenly
they became quiet and pulled themselves to attention as the soft notes of an
eccolute began to play a requiem-like melody. The curtains on the rear wall of
the Temple
silently glided open. The enormous bed, covered in drapes made from silks and
satins and other old-world materials, and known as the Resting Place Entrance,
slid into place.
Ben Alki saw the
look of sudden shock in the eyes of the departant’s immediate family. That
always happened, even if they were old enough to have been to many departure
ceremonies. Most of the recent ceremonies had been for older departants. So,
the people who had attended were older too. They’d pushed the age back for
compulsory switch-off. After so many deaths from the Starlight Racer pandemic
there was not so much need. Oh, he’d listened to all arguments from those who thought that they should
now let nature take its course but Ben Alki didn’t quite see how it would work.
Apart from those who had succumbed to the Starlight disease, Terrestrans were a
pretty healthy lot. Especially the Elders, who were so well looked after.
The woman at the
end of the front row caught his eye.
He’d seen that look before as well. They hated him for what he did.
Everyone knew that switch-off was inevitable, yet when it came to it, they
didn’t want it to happen.
The woman’s eyes
were red-rimmed and swollen as if she had been crying. Ben Alki guessed she
must be the former attachment of the departant Elder.
Just as well the ones who are going don’t
look like that, thought Ben Alki.
Of course, they
didn’t. They were heavily sedated. Had been for days.
The side door
slid open. Ben Alki didn’t like to think too much about what was actually about
to happen at this point. This was just a job, he told himself, a highly paid
one at that. He let his thoughts drift over to what he would be doing that
evening. He might watch some sport on the dataserve or he might go along to the
recently refurbished New Laguna nectar bar. Sophia Arkland might be there, if
he was lucky.
The attendant
guided the aged elder in. The old man looked fine. You would not know he was
drugged up to the eyeballs. He looked with it and relaxed. The counsellor had
obviously done his job well, convinced him that this was the right thing to do
and that he had much to be proud of. Ben
Alki wondered what Kemnat Elder had selected for his life show. He’d have a lot
to talk about for sure.
The attendant
had now parked the hoversessel in the middle of the small platform. The elder
was smiling at his family and friends. He looked as if he was being kind, but
Ben Alki knew it was just the effect of the sedative drug he’d been given –
even though it was true that Joshran Elder was a kind man.
“Joshran Kemnat,
Elder of Culture and Education, inhabitant of Terrestra, do you agree to the
termination of your stewardship?” said Ben Alki.
“I do,” replied
the elder.
“And do you
account to that stewardship every aspect of your life, including the physical,
the intellectual and the spiritual, and of all those aspects of which you have
charge including the personal?”
“I do,” replied
the elder.
“Then it is
fitting that the ceremony of departure may take place. Who is to bear witness?”
The words came from Ben Alki’s mouth without him having to think. What am I really talking about? he asked himself.
“We are,” said a
man and a woman standing near the red-eyed woman.
Ben Alki guessed
they might be Kemnat’s children. He passed them the small tablet dataserve and
they pressed their palms to it sensors.
“Joshran
Kemnat,” said Ben Alki “please make your way to the Resting Place Entrance. The
reposant will be administered shortly.” Ben Alki turned to the dataserve.
“Privacy settings,” he commanded.
The thick black
curtains slid across the veriglass windows. The screen showing the crowds
outside went dark, but seconds before the sound was disconnected Ben Alki heard
a loud scream, followed by someone shouting “Don’t go, Johsran! We need you!”
Hysterical sobs began just before the sound from outside went dead.
Up until now,
all the fuss about Joshran Kemnat had seemed to Ben Alki just like some
dramatic pageant, the beginnings of a movie. But no, what he had just heard was
grief – raw, genuine and utter grief. His concentration slipped a little and
the feelings he always managed to ignore during these ceremonies now began to take
over. That had never happened before. He’d never known as much about the
departants as he did about Joshran Elder.
He pulled
himself up sharply and began to move closer to the family members, whilst the
attendant who had helped the old man on to the stage now helped him into the
large bed.
“In a few
moments my colleague will inject the reposant,” Ben Alki said to the
well-wishers. “You will then have about forty minutes to say your goodbyes. He
will suffer no pain. He will gradually become sleepy and will drop into a short
coma.”
The medic was
already standing in the doorway. Ben Alki nodded to him. The man in the white
tunic made his way over to the over-sized bed where the attendant was now
helping the old man from the comfisessel into the Resting Place Entrance. Two
other attendants were getting ready the gifts which the Elder had chosen for his
near ones.
Ben Alki liked
to keep well out of the way at this point. This may be his hundredth ceremony,
but this part really spooked him. Besides, this was a really important last
intimate moment for the family and close friends.
He went into the
little side-room which had one-way veriglass. Malthus Smid, the annihilation
operator was already there.
“Won’t be
another one for ten days,” said Malthus. “What are you going to do then?”
Ben Alki
shrugged. That was definitely one of the perks of this job – especially since
the Starlight Fever had done much of their work for them. You only had to work
when you had to work. There were lots of days off; it was a sort of
compensation for having to do a job that only a few were prepared to do. Most
people would find it thoroughly gruesome and it was never discussed in polite
society. As they were so well paid, Malthus and Ben Alki and the other
employees of the Ceremonial
Temple could afford to do
really interesting things in all that spare time.
Ben Alki found
himself thinking about Sophia again. Spending some more time with her would be
a good idea.
“Do you think
they will stop this?” asked Malthus. “Now that we’re not quite so crowded?”
Ben Alki did not
know. Anyway, the vaccines and antidotes being sent from Zandra were working so
well that they would soon be back to normal.
“I mean,”
continued Malthus. “Now that we’re trading with Zandra, we might start trading
with others and then we’d start catching all sorts of things and we’d start
falling down like the Z Zoners do.”
Ben Alki shut
his eyes – partly to think better, and partly so that he did not have to watch
what was going on inside the Temple.
“I really don’t
know,” he said. “I really don’t.”
Part of him
wanted this whole business to stop; he’d decided some time ago it wasn’t
actually right – he was actually helping with a murder. Another part of him
worried about what he might do to earn a living if it did stop. At just
nineteen, he was able to live a very nice life, thank you very much. He had no qualifications.
It was not that he was not bright – no he prided himself on being pretty
clever. But he enjoyed being lazy. All he’d had to do was learn to keep his
face nice and serious. That had not been a problem. He really looked the part –
tall, thin and with a rather long face. He was such a cynic anyway.
Mind you, next
to Malthus, he was quite a saint.
“Oh sacred
elders, look what he’s giving her,” cried Malthus.
Ben Alki opened
his eyes and looked through the one-way veriglass. The youngest of the
well-wishers, a girl who looked about eighteen, was kneeling at the side of the
old man. He was handing her what looked like a permanent attachment robe.
“You don’t think
the old guy’s offering to attach to her, do you? I mean, look well if they’re
going to have sex. It has been known you know.”
“Shut up,” said
Ben Alki. “He’s probably telling her he approves of her boyfriend.”
One by one the
mourners made their way up to Elder Kemnat. Ben Alki was amazed every time at
how calm the departants seemed. Okay, he knew about the drugs, but even
so.
“Oh, come on,
lulus,” shouted Malthus. “Let him go to sleep. Then we can zap and compost and
then we’re out of here. Should I change the air?”
The last of the
well-wishers had made their way up to the Resting Place Entrance. Soon the elder
would become sleepy and then he would slip into the coma. Reducing the oxygen
in the air often speeded that process up, though the well-wishers never noticed
the difference.
Ben Alki shook
his head.
“Let him go in
his own time,” he said.
“Boring,” said
Malthus. Then he settled down. Both of them stared through the window. They
watched the old man talking to his friends and family. It was clear he was
getting tired. He closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep. The well-wishers
gradually stopped talking. A few minutes later, there was a tap on the door.
Ben Alki opened it.
“He’s in the
coma now,” said the medic. “I think we’ve got about ten minutes.”
Some of the
well-wishers were weeping. Two sat on the bed with the Elder and stroked his
hair. The rest just stood solemnly around the Resting Place Entrance, looking a
little awkward, not knowing what to do.
“Respiration
slowing,” said the medic, looking at his wrist dataserve. “Heart arrhythmic.
Life signs weak.”
They say it’s peaceful, thought Ben
Alki. But how do we really know what is
going on? He could be still conscious, just paralyzed. Oh, he knew about
all the research, how they’d measured the brainwaves and how there’d been no
evidence of any pain or fear. But where had they got that idea from about going
down a tunnel towards some light? Why on Terrestra was he doing this job?
“Death has
occurred,” said the medic suddenly.
“Let’s go!”
cried Malthus.
Ben Alki now
made his way out to the people he must now think of as mourners.
“Our loved one
has now gone,” he said, putting his solemn voice back on. “Please now say your
last farewell. In a few minutes, we shall complete the ceremony in full view of
the public.”
He turned to the
man who had been named as Chief Mourner. “Let me know as soon as you are ready,”
he said.
There was a
mumbled conversation now amongst the mourners. The man Ben Alki had spoken to
nodded his head.
“Ladies and
Gentleman,” said Ben Alki. “Will you now make your way to your places?” He turned to the dataserve.
“Public
settings.”
The curtains
behind the mourners drew back so that those behind the veriglass could follow
the final part of the ceremony.
“Friends,
relations, fellow Terrestrans,” said Ben Alki. “Our beloved Joshran Kemnat has
now departed from us. We ask you to salute his body as it now makes its final
journey to its last resting place. We invite you then to celebrate with us the
life of this extraordinary man.”
He pressed the
black key that only the dataserve at the Temple
had. The large bed with the body of the elder slid back towards the hidden
laser furnace and the curtains closed back around it. Even before the curtains
had shut the lasers would have sanitized the Elder’s body and the grinders
would be turning him into compost. He could imagine Malthus crying out with a
great ”Yeah! Zap and mulch him baby.” He
could just make out the faint high-pitched sound which told him the lasers were
already working. Or maybe it was the mulchers he could hear. He hoped that none
of the mourners could hear it. He guessed not. In fact, he was fairly sure he
only imagined it himself.
It was time for
him to go. The new master of ceremonies, the one who was going to compeer the
show to celebrate Kemnat’s life was already walking on to the stage. Ben Alki
had volunteered to do this once or twice, to be the one who would celebrate the
departant’s life. They’d turned him down.
“You have just
the right type of face for the first part of the ceremony,” they’d said. “And
we never let the same celebrant do both halves. We don’t want the celebrations
to get mixed up with the mourning.”
Ben Alki decided
not to stay to watch the movie clips and hear the speeches and testimonials of
those who had known the elder well. They’d been right. How could he celebrate
the life he’d just helped to end?
He made his way
to a transporter deck. He would go to the New Laguna bar. She just might be
there.
