Jovi was worried. It had been two months since the launch of the Worldship Mandela. They should have heard something by now. She had been one of the most committed advocates of the latest research and rescue mission, even drafting her brother Raj to pilot the rescue ship.
Montoya’s visit to her office yesterday had further stoked her anxiety. At least half of the controversy raging about the ongoing rescue efforts of Earth’s space program was based on finances, and Montoya was an accountant first and a scientist second. He had stormed for half an hour over the cuts sure to come to the whole space program if the Mandela was not successful. Striding back and forth in her cubicle, from the tiny window to the door, he enumerated the objections raised over the undertaking. Jovi wondered if her co-workers heard most of it, since Montoya’s strident voice grew louder with each surge of anger.
“It’s stupid to be in this position,” Montoya said. “This is chasing after phantoms. Obviously, there is sabotage, and the mission has failed. What a waste of money and resources! We could be finalizing the testing on the new wind system on Venus or improving the infrastructure of the base on Titan if we hadn’t got embroiled in this senseless chase.”
He had a point. Since the world had united under one government in 2055, all agencies were tangled together, and it was true that the space program was one of the most expensive. Jovi didn’t care about his arguments. She knew there would always be advocates to continue the space program because it was obvious that one day the Earth would get too populated to support itself. They were already searching for new planets where mankind could settle. Some claimed the only reason they hadn’t reached a must-evacuate state was the four billion killed in the last war.
———
Raj was thinking of his twin, Jovi. He was looking forward to describing to her the experiences of his crew. One day soon, he resolved, he would return home and tell her everything. Of course, “one day” was relative, he realized with a quiet laugh. Where he stood, day was no longer part of the lexicon. That had been one of the biggest shocks upon their arrival.
First came the luminescence, a glow in space. The light looked unlike anything he had seen on any of his journeys through space. The strangest thing was the feeling it evoked as the Mandela approached the swirling light. A deep contentment swept over him. He felt like a boy again, home with Jovi and Amma and Appa, happy in their home in Tamil Nadu, only a few miles from the astronomy observatory where he had first learned to love the stars.
Even Zebron, his chief engineer, was uncharacteristically silent as they gazed at the light. The ship navigated closer and closer to what appeared to be a slowly drifting wormhole. Raj was suddenly struck with awe and joy and didn’t even feel the movement when they slipped into the vortex and passed through to another dimension. Passing through the wormhole, if that was indeed what it was, they emerged into a beautiful, glorious scene: a world filled with light, though no sun was in evidence.
“Oh, my god,” whispered someone behind him. Raj turned, and smiled at Major Emily Porter, who was gazing mistily out the port. By the look on her face, she felt the same incredible elation that he did. It was a stunning view. The grass was such a rich shade of green, it seemed impossible to describe in earthly words. The trees swayed slightly in the distance above the lush meadow as though a gentle wind stirred in their branches. The doors to the craft opened on their own. His heart racing, Raj stepped out, the entire crew following silently. Cautiously, the humans exited the ship, then turned together as one to gaze at a large building standing in the distance.
Raj stared at the spacious building, gaping. What in the world was inside? Were there aliens waiting to study and dissect them? Why did he feel so calm, so happy, so deeply loved? Suddenly the silence was broken by Zebron’s ebullient laugh.
“I’m home!” he called, striding toward the building.
Enthusiastically, the crowd followed, exuberant emotions surging. Raj broke into a jog, and the crew jostled each other playfully as they followed Zebron toward the wide entrance. The doors were enormous. Raj noted as they approached that there were smaller doors inside the massive doors, as though the large doors were there to accommodate huge crowds, and the smaller ones to bring in the few, such as the 112 who made up the crew of the Mandela.
Stepping inside, they entered into a wide, comfortable gathering area with couches and tables scattered around the room. Some of the tables were laden with food piled high on colorful festive platters, as though their arrival was anticipated and a feast had been prepared. Suddenly a door opened and beings walked into the room.
Raj stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. Each being who came into the room was tall, but that wasn’t what caused him to draw his breath in sharply. Some, perhaps half, had wings. Beaming, the beings – the angels! – approached.
“Come and eat,” they called out, embracing the group with their smiles.
Before Raj could recover his breath, let alone his thoughts, Zebron was already seating himself at one of the tables, grinning at an angel who was offering him a plate filled with something that looked like pesto and pasta and fruit. The platters held an enormous variety of food, more choices than anyone could make in a month.
Raj spied one table that looked as though it was piled high with Biryani, the spicy rice dish his Amma used to make for him on special occasions, and Butter Chicken, another favorite that started his mouth watering. He strode over quickly and took a seat at that table. It was biryani, fish and rice and eggs spiced to perfection.
Raj did not know what to think. The food was as delicious as it smelled and looked. His feelings of contentment and joy had not abated. The angels smiled at them intimately, friendly, matter-of-fact, just as though they were lost family members or close friends gathering for a delightful reunion. Raj finished his sumptuous portion and then followed a group of angels who were leading people outside. The air was so fresh! It made earth smell like a parking lot, thought Raj. They passed beautiful courtyards and patios attached to buildings that looked like the outside of the apartment Raj rented in New York for his stays in the Western Quadrant, back on earth.
“Raj!” he heard. They had entered one of the rooms, his eyes turning left and right in amazement as he followed his guide from the park-like setting into one of the buildings with resting accommodations.
Raj turned to see his childhood friend, Tomas Patel, who had disappeared nineteen years ago, on an earlier rescue mission. He almost stumbled as he ran towards his friend, arms stretched out wide.
“Tom! Tom, where are we?” he gasped, as he encompassed his friend in a hearty embrace.
Tom laughed. “Haven’t you guessed? We’re in heaven.”
Raj stared. “You mean, we’re dead?”
“No, we’re in the outskirts. You came in, as we did, through the wormhole, which is a backdoor approach to heaven. The vast majority of the people in Inner Heaven came through death. But we came to the edge, which is right by the corridor where people come and go.”
“Come and go?” Raj repeated, puzzled.
“Yes, those who die and then come back to life. You know, like near-death experiences. They come up through the corridor. Some go on to enter into heaven; others return back to earth.”
“Are you saying that heaven is out in space?” Raj asked.
“Yes, of course. Where else was it going to be, Raj? C’mon. Let me show you your room. It is so great to see you. How is that sweetie, Jovi? Did she get into Lady Shri Ram College, like she wanted to?”
“She graduated with honors twelve years ago.”
It was Tom’s turn to stare. “Are you serious? Twelve years ago. How long have I been here?”
“You don’t know?”
“No. There is no time here,” Tom said.
“No time? How can that be?” Raj asked.
“There is nothing that marks time, thus, no time.” Tom grinned. “What is time, anyway? On earth, it is marked by the movement of the planetary system; the sun marks days and seasons and the moon marks the months. No sun here, or moon either. So, no time.”
“Then how is it light here?” Raj questioned.
“From God.” Tom answered. “Did you ever read the Bible? There is no sun in heaven.”
“Well sure, I read it,” Raj said. “In theology class we covered all the ancient books. But I guess I didn’t expect it to be literal. He paused, staring at his friend perplexedly. “Come to think of it, you look exactly the same as last I saw you, but I know that I don’t. I have grey in my hair and you look about thirty but you are eight years older than I am. Do you not age here?”
“I don’t know what happens over in inner heaven, but we seem to be feel youthful in this section, while our looks remain about the same as when we arrived.”
“Have you ever thought about going back?” Raj asked him.
He thought about Jovi and his Amma and Appa. It was as though just by thinking about them he could feel them. His parents, Amma and Appa, suddenly felt young, as though their bodies didn’t matter, and what he was feeling in his heart and memories was them – the real them, the eternal them. Appa was strong, thrifty, humorous, and courageous, and Amma was kind, her heart filled with love for her family and her friends. Jovi was sweet, and determined, and strong. He always had admired her growing up for her sterling qualities and he recognized that these qualities were her. This is who Jovi is and who she always would be. Who we are outlasts our bodies, he saw with amazement. Tears sprang into his eyes.
Tom looked at him sympathetically. “It’s a lot to take in,” he said compassionately. “Come on. I want to introduce you to someone with a lot of answers. I pick his brain regularly. His name is Jesus.”
———
Jovi stood at the window, looking out at the grey New York skies. She was exhausted. She had spent the last four days in Raj’s apartment, crying and praying, occasionally slipping into uneasy sleep, before waking up to cry and pray some more. She knew she only had three days until her flight back home to New Delhi, in the Southeastern Quadrant of Earth, before resuming her duties at work. It had been ten months since contact was lost with the Mandela.
She missed Raj and she was sick of the questions and condolences of her coworkers, even though she knew they were kindly meant. She needed rest, so she could get back on track. Her co-worker Montoya had said that funding would be cut back for the WorldSpace program with the most recent loss of the rescue ships but he was wrong. Instead, the XWorld Foundation had gotten involved and committed one trillion dollars to further explorations. She was facing a busy schedule, likely with double shifts in the weeks ahead when she got back to work.
“Oh, Amma,” she sighed, with her mother’s beautiful, pale face in mind. But that was painful too. She felt guilty every time she even thought about her parents. Why had she recommended Raj for this mission? She had been so sure that he would be successful, as talented and resourceful as he was. She jumped when the phone sang out, “Amma calling!”
“Amma,” she said as brightly as she could, striving to sound composed. “How are you and Appa?”
“We are good, darling. Appa’s built a beautiful birdhouse for me with flowers woven all around the base. He knows I love the birds.”
“That’s great, Amma. I will come by and see it soon.”
“What’s the matter, darling?” Amma always could read your voice like she was reading a book.
“Nothing. I am here at Raj’s straightening things and packing for my trip back home.”
“It’s not your fault, my little Jovi. Raj wanted to explore this mystery as he explored everything from the time he first started toddling around the house, clutching everything he could reach. It’s okay, my darling. It’s not your fault.”
Jovi thought about her Amma. She was always so calm and serene, no matter what was happening. Maybe it was because of the war. Amma said that she had seen it all, suffered it all, in that great conflict and nothing could ever affect her the same.
Once the nuclear outbreaks began, the battles intensified, and the death count had spiraled out of control. The whole world was horrified and shaken even though the “war” had lasted only five months. It was referred to as WW3, or The Apocalypse, but there never had been an official declaration of war. It had started when, without warning, a Southeastern Quadrant country had launched a nuclear attack on Jerusalem, quickly following with the nuclear destruction of Rome. The perpetrators claimed a religious reason but Mecca was the next city to be annihilated so they hadn’t actually done their particular cause much good. In fact, much of the fighting that followed took place in and near their Quadrant.
About five million died in the initial blasts but the combat that spread all over the globe had killed hundreds of millions. Another billion died from radiation.
At one point, it had even been questioned if the Eastern and Southeastern Quadrants were going to be livable for decades. There had been a horrific outbreak of human and animal mutations and some crops were never able to grow in the topsoil again. However, two years later the new WorldGovernment had been created. The recovery efforts had produced a new kind of loam that worked in any climate, and DNA treatments were perfected to work out the various genetic kinks which abounded worldwide.
Raj once whispered to Jovi that their Amma was reliving the pain of those days when they heard her crying one night. In Appa’s arms, his gentle, sympathetic presence had been her solace.
Amma’s calmness steadied her. Jovi gulped down her tears. It was time to put the grieving behind her. Raj had been ecstatic to be chosen for the mission. Jovi resolved not to give up hope, even as she released her guilt. Maybe Raj would return. Only time would tell.
“Thanks, Amma. You are right. Raj wouldn’t want me to be so unhappy.” As Jovi disconnected she felt better. Still, underneath the question still nagged at her. Where was Raj?
———
Raj was laughing. It was so ridiculous. Major Emily Porter was claiming that she had seen a demon and an angel holding hands. That had started a long conversation. He laughed a lot in the carefree atmosphere. They all did. He thought he had almost laughed himself out of his body earlier – was it yesterday, last week? – he mused silently. This no-time reality was hard to grasp, as he spoke with Tomas about returning to earth or remaining in heaven. He meant to go back, but before he could even consider it, he felt compelled to explore the place thoroughly, to carry word of it far and wide. There was simply so much to see.
What had started his fit of laughter was when he had remarked in the give and take of that discussion, “But what am I supposed to do here? Just sit around playing the harp?”
To his amazement, Tomas had answered, “Actually harp playing is pretty relaxing. Some people like to play the guitar but I prefer the harp.”
“What? What are you chortling about?” Tomas said defensively.
Raj stopped laughing long enough to say, “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“I mean, c’mon. Admit it. This is bizarre. ‘Going to heaven and sitting around playing the harp’ is a joke back on earth.”
Tom eyed Raj for a moment before he finally said with a dignified air, to Raj’s gales of laughter, “You have to try it sometime to understand the experience. As you play, remarkable feelings rise up when you close your eyes and think about someone or something and you can actually feel them amidst the strum. The person, the situation, the notes, and the music seem to permeate you and the song until a whole world – a melodic, aesthetic atmosphere. It completely engulfs you as your fingers pluck the strings. I suggest you try that one time and then tell me again that you would ever leave. You love your sister, Jovi? Try loving her in harp song.”
“Well, wow!” Raj said, a bit dazed. Maybe he would try it. He also wanted to drop into the art room he had passed by earlier where he saw many of the Mandela’s crew members gathered, working on sculptures. Not everyone had the same amount of talent and results varied, of course, but it was easy to master almost anything with the increased agility, energy, and joy you felt constantly.
Raj spied a magnificent statue of a soaring angel in the spacious art room that others were using as a model. Its beautiful lines almost seemed familiar to him for a moment and he was just visualizing the picture of the Statue of David he had seen in a Worldschool series about works done by Italian artists when the teacher turned around and Raj was stunned to recognize Michelangelo, one of the most prolific artists in the series.
Michelangelo smiled and asked if he wanted to join the class but Raj shook his head and walked on. Art lessons, music lessons, racing machines of incredible speed – almost anything you wanted to do was available. He knew that Zebron had started to haunt the kitchen until they laughingly welcomed him and began teaching him recipes from all over the earth from various time periods. Zebron’s booming voice often rattled the walls since he loved to sing while he cooked. Raj’s pace quickened as he hurried to volunteer to try out the latest concoction.
“Why don’t you go back,” he had asked Tomas.
Tomas tried to explain and Raj almost felt on the edge of understanding as he leaned in to listen to his friend’s earnest voice.
“Well, I think it is partly because it feels like eternity has already begun and the earth feels finite, and more and more distant. As far as my family, from here I know them better than I ever would there, even with them not present. When I think of them, I feel their spirit, and suddenly I can visualize them clearly. Besides, after a certain time you can’t go back because your body won’t bear it. I think more about crossing over to Crystal City then going…”
Raj broke in quickly: “Crystal City. What’s that?”
“That is the name of the City which is part of what people call heaven. It is really huge, and I have heard that there are people there from eons ago. I really want to meet someone from one of the tribes that lived in Africa thousands of years ago. I want to learn things about earth and space and time that have always fascinated me and now’s my chance. Think, Raj! Answers! Along with the constant joy that you always feel here. Why go back?”
Raj shrugged. He didn’t exactly miss his family, since he could feel them at will, but he didn’t want them to worry. He knew that time must be passing but he kept putting off seeking help from the angels about leaving until he saw more, learned more. And Tomas was right. You woke up in joy and rested with praise and every second was completely satisfying as though you were exactly where you wanted to be and should be and nothing else was imaginable.
———
Jovi was singing as she thought of Raj and the mystery surrounding him. She sometimes fantasized that the Mandela had crash-landed on a distant planet and Raj was somehow still alive. She smiled, crooning softly to her three-year-old daughter while she tucked her under the covers. It was six years since she had last seen Raj’s beaming face, at lunch with their parents the day before the launch. She knew how much he would have loved his little niece and her twin brother, asleep in daddy’s lap downstairs.
Her son and daughter already knew all the words to the WorldSong “Pi” that all children learned as quickly as they learned the alphabet. She softly sang the first verse to her daughter,
Three-point-one-four-one-five-nine-two-six
Send a rocket and find the WorldFix
Physics, data coding, deep into Space
Makes the universe our own place
She felt content. Raj was gone, but little Raj and Lissa filled her heart. And there was that exciting new project at work. This time the new Worldship Pursuit was going to be equipped with an innovative type of GPS system that no one could dismantle, swore its creators. If they couldn’t find Raj, at least the mystery would finally be resolved as to where he had disappeared.
She stroked Lissa’s hair back from her brow, then tenderly bent and kissed her forehead softly. Things weren’t so bad. She thought of a popular song as she got up to go down and join her husband before the fire. “Worldpeace,” she sang. “Let its honor and strength soothe your soul.”