The Lightbringers, page 1
The Lightbringers
By H. C. H. Ritz
To my dad, who showed me that writers are the coolest people.
What Has Gone Before
2018 The world economy collapses.
2019 World War III begins.
2022 Martha St. Tala rises to fame; extols positive thinking as the way to create a perfect society.
2025 WWIII death toll tops 200,000,000.
2028 Martha St. Tala wins the presidency on an isolationist, positive thinking platform.
President Martha declares New America’s ‘final independence’ from the world.
2032 President Martha accepts an indefinite term of office.
2035 The borders are sealed; New American society reaches apparent perfection.
2054 President Martha I retires; President Martha II comes to power at age 35.
2079 Present day
Chapter One
President Martha St. Tala:
Exercising one’s will over one’s own mind is not automatic, and so you are all fortunate to have been born into a society which teaches you this skill from childhood. Remember, if there is anything you do not wish to have in your experience, practice your ability to overlook the reality of it now, and soon it will leave your reality. And you will hardly notice its departure or remember that it ever was there.
Gaylen’s wife didn’t look at him as she passed through their small bedroom. Her tone exasperated, she said, “Sierra wants you to read to her,” and she disappeared into the closet.
On the mandatory, government-installed wallscreen just a few feet away, the Brandenburg Concerto by Bach accompanied them, with a garden of bluebonnets, goldenrods, and daisies in tidy rows. It was a Beauty Moment approved by the Bureau of Entertainment.
Instead of going to Sierra’s room, Gaylen got up and followed Serena to the closet. She had just pulled off her skirt and top, revealing her silky, white underthings. She tossed her clothing into the hamper beside her. Gaylen caught sight of the two of them in the mirror fastened to the wall. Both tall, slender, and dark-skinned, they made a striking couple. He had taken pleasure in the sight many times. Now, he noticed that his face looked worried, and he changed it back to a pleasant expression.
Meanwhile, Serena slipped into a nightgown, which slid invitingly along her smooth body. She flipped an errant shoulder strap into place, then glared at him. Her eyes flashed. “What do you want?”
He took a step back, his hands up. She glared at him, unmoving, until he had moved out of her sight.
A couple of months ago, she would have reached for him, given him a lingering, teasing kiss, then playfully slapped away his roaming hands. He would have left the bedroom pleasantly tantalized. Instead, he stepped into the tiny kitchen to eat a snack-size candy bar, then another, then a third, while he watched the too-loud wallscreen above the sink.
Gaylen didn’t know why his wife had changed. She hadn’t said, and it wasn’t permissible to ask.
The Beauty Moment with its cultivated flowers faded into blackout. The evening’s Good News report began, and the announcer cheerfully related that worker productivity had increased five percent over this same period last year.
Gaylen went into Sierra’s room feeling somewhat fortified by the candy bars. As he went, he told himself, I am happily married. I am surrounded by love. Everything in my life is perfect.
Sierra half-reclined in bed with her handscreen in her lap. She stared absently at the wallscreen on the wall at the foot of her bed, which filled most of the room. The children’s channel showed a cartoon with a little puppy—a yellow Labrador retriever with big, floppy ears—who turned around in circles in his flannel bed, then settled down to go to sleep.
Sierra lit up when she saw Gaylen. “Daddy!”
He smiled and snuggled into bed with her. “Let’s get this book taken care of, shall we?” He kissed her on the forehead and picked up the handscreen to resume the book, which was reassuringly marked APPROVED FOR ALL AGES by the Bureau of Entertainment.
With his mind half on the story, he worried about his marriage. Yesterday, he’d added an evening session of positive affirmations to complement the half-hour morning sessions he’d been doing for a month, but there were no results yet. He reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to worry about results. They would come in time.
Sierra usually fell asleep as he read. Not tonight. Her little eyes closed a dozen times, but she kept shaking it off, and she was clinging to him. After he read the book once, she demanded another reading of it, then another. Finally, twenty minutes past her usual bedtime, she announced, “I’m always going to think about you smiling, Daddy.”
He paused, trying to parse out the meaning and intent of her words. Finally, he settled for, “Thank you, sweetie.”
She was quiet and still for a moment, and he thought maybe she had gone to sleep. Then she said, with an emphatic jerk of her shoulders, “I’m going to think about us always together, OK, Daddy?”
That comment, especially coupled with the previous one, struck fear into him. “What do you mean?”
She paused for a while. “Nothing,” she said. But it came out in her “I’m in trouble and I’m telling a fib” tone of voice.
He decided that he needed to talk to Serena. He knew he was supposed to ignore anything that seemed negative, so as not to give it power and attract more of the same into his life, but it would be impossible to ignore this.
“You go ahead and think about the good things, Sierra. I will, too.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “And everything will be OK,” he added, hoping he sounded convincing.
Her little body relaxed, and she fell asleep immediately. He stayed with her for a few more minutes, watching the rise and fall of her chest and the little sleep twitches of her body. Apprehension built up inside him until it became unbearable. Carefully, he stood up and tucked Sierra into her bed. Then he went into his and Serena’s bedroom.
Serena lay in bed and read something on her handscreen. She didn’t look up when he entered. On the wallscreen, a comedian told innocuous jokes about family life. Gaylen slid into bed, his face blank but his mouth dry. He tried to ignore the wallscreen while he thought of and discarded a dozen inadequate openings.
Finally, he said, “Serena, are you… thinking positively… about our relationship?”
She scowled. “I’m thinking positively about my life.”
“But about us? Are you thinking positively about us? Like you’re supposed to?” He knew he sounded plaintive, but it was true. They were both supposed to think positively. How was he supposed to think positively for the both of them?
“I’m not supposed to. You know you’re not supposed to get your heart set on any one person. People come and go, Gaylen. All that matters is being happy.”
“So let’s be happy. I am. I’m happy.” He knew he sounded defensive.
She threw the magazine down onto her lap. “Fine. Me, too.”
They glared at each other.
Serena shook her head once. “Look, I’ve decided I’m leaving. I’m not renewing our marriage contract this time. Sierra and I are moving out. I’m ready for something different.” She picked her handscreen back up.
He found himself on his feet, facing her, breathless. His throat constricted. “No, no, no—don’t take Sierra. Don’t take her.”
“She’s my child.”
“She’s mine, too.”
“Well, she can’t live with us both, Gaylen!”
“Yes, she can—just stay here! Just don’t go!”
“Stop it, Gaylen.” She sat up fully and swung her legs out from under the blankets. “You aren’t doing this right. Just think about the future and having someone else in your life. OK?”
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. And Sierra. I love Sierra!”
“Stop it this minute. Let it go!” Her tone brooked no further argument.
Gaylen walked out of the room, her glare on his back. He went into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa, his head in his hands. Serena didn’t follow him. The sound of laughter did follow him, though, via the wallscreen in here. He stared at it uncomprehendingly. The comedian had finished a long joke and now waited out the laugh.
Breathe. She’s not gone yet. You can still fix this. Think differently, Gaylen, think differently.
He went to the kitchen and got a glass of water with shaking hands and gulped it down. The cool water felt good, and he turned on the tap again to splash some on his face.
Your thinking is wrong. You’re the one doing this to yourself. Just fix it.
I can do this. I can do it.
He settled onto the sofa and imagined Serena telling him that she had decided to stay. Over and over he saw it. By the time he went to bed, she had shut off the light.
All the next week, he brought home the most perfect bouquets of flowers for Serena every day, which she accepted with brief thanks and placed around the apartment. He complimented her at least three times a day, which she also accepted cordially. He spent forty-five minutes each morning and evening in meditation about his happy family. He prevented himself from entertaining any thoughts of Serena or Sierra being gone.
By mid-afternoon every day, he had a tension headache. He woke up several times every night, and each time he did, he recited affirmations with all his heart and soul while he watched Serena’s peaceful, sleeping face.
And yet he came home on Thursday—a warm, sunny day—to find the apartment full of half-packed cardboard boxes. Serena s
Gaylen went straight to the bedroom and closed the door and sat on the bed. For three hours, he thought, as hard as he could, variations on I have a happy marriage. My wife loves and appreciates me. My family is joyful. My home is full of love. His head ached and his body was rigid with tension by the time he fell asleep. But when he woke up in the morning, he found that Serena had slept in Sierra’s room.
Before he went to work that day, Gaylen stopped at the wallscreen in the tiny kitchen and pulled up a digital copy of their marriage contract. It ran out on June 30th of each year—only one week away. To renew, they would just sign on the next year’s line, and if they didn’t sign, the marriage would expire.
He touched a button to pin it to the wallscreen so that it would remain visible. It read simply,
Gaylen Thomas Andrews
and
Serena Anne Tate
Are joined this day in love and joy.
For as long as love and joy shall
last, they shall forsake all others
and give one another their
unconditional happiness.
Love and joy are still here, he thought forcefully.
With determination in the set of his jaw, he signed the renewal line with his fingertip. Then he left the contract pinned so that Serena would see it. With all his hope, he left it there. He said nothing to Serena directly. Their earlier argument had reminded him of what President Martha taught—discussing problems only made them more concrete and attracted more of the same. All problems had to be ignored.
That night, after a long day of positive visualizations, he came home and looked into the kitchen with optimism, looking at the contract visible on the wallscreen.
The other signature line was empty.
The next day, it was the same.
And the next.
Serena continued to pack her possessions, and Sierra’s.
Gaylen’s optimism waxed and waned. He fought himself and he fought despair. And every day, he visualized more intently. On the final day, he put off what work he could so that he could sit at his desk in quiet visualization for most of the day. He knew he could not bring himself to go home until just past midnight, when Serena’s decision would be final. After work, he went alone to a movie theatre and watched back-to-back romantic comedies, trying to summon the right wavelength of emotion and thought to align himself with what he wanted.
On the subway ride home, however, despair found its way into his heart. His wife and child were nearly finished packing. The flowers he had bought Serena had wilted and she had thrown them away. There had been no sign of a crack in Serena’s inscrutable exterior. All his efforts were coming to nothing.
He admitted to himself that Serena was correct: he knew perfectly well that he had no right to insist on one specific person. Doing so violated the free will of others. He was supposed to ask for the kind of family and the kind of person he wanted and then let the universe find him suitable people—people who wanted the same things he did. And since Serena had already said she wanted to take Sierra, he had no right to argue with that, either.
But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He loved them too much. Especially Sierra—Serena had changed so much that he could hardly summon up his old adoration of her, but Sierra was his little girl.
Just after midnight, he arrived home with his head full of all the positive thoughts he could summon, but with trembling hands.
He walked into the kitchen and looked at the wallscreen only to find the contract ignored, silent and inert on the screen, a thing of disappointment and betrayal.
The next morning, the three of them stood at the door of Gaylen’s apartment, Serena’s and Sierra’s suitcases around them in the hallway. Sierra clung to Gaylen, her face nestled into his chest.
Gaylen felt like his heart was physically breaking, coming apart into pieces, as he forced himself to pull Sierra away from him. He could not say goodbye. He would have broken down if he had tried. He struggled to stay composed, but Sierra saw his face, and she burst into tears. She threw herself against his chest and wailed.
Her mother knelt down with them. “Say, ‘Only happy feelings,’ Sierra,” she commanded.
Gaylen took a breath and said, “Stop it now, Sierra.”
The little girl tried valiantly to stop her tears. “I don’t wanna go away from you, Daddy!”
Gaylen’s eyes filled. “There’s better things to come, honey,” he said, trying with all his heart to mean it. “You’ll be better off where you’re going. ‘Nothing bad ever really happens, unless you think it’s bad.’ Remember?”
“This is bad,” Sierra cried, and she threw her arms around Gaylen’s neck and clung to him as if for dear life.
He had always loved how she’d clung to him, from the first moments her tiny little limbs had been capable of it, when she was mere months old. It had always made him feel invulnerable somehow when she had held onto him like this. And this was the last time he would ever feel this way.
Serena had always been better at this than Gaylen. “Now stop it, Sierra. This minute!” She gently loosened her daughter’s grasp and pulled her away from her father. “Do you want to make us have bad feelings, too? Do you want all of us to attract bad things into our lives because of you?”
“No…” Sierra wailed.
“Then stop it. Smile for your daddy and tell him how good everything is going to be for everyone. Tell him how happy we are all going to be.”
Sierra struggled hard for a long moment and managed a smile through her tears. “Everything will be good, Daddy.”
“Yes,” Gaylen said authoritatively. “Yes, it will. Now go on and have fun with your mom!” He tried again to smile for her, and he succeeded this time.
Serena picked up their suitcases and the two of them walked down the corridor toward the skyrise’s elevators. Sierra looked back twice, crying again. Gaylen forced himself to smile encouragingly each time. My life is rich and good, he repeated to himself as he watched them walk away. My life is complete just as it is, lacking nothing.
When they were gone, Gaylen turned and went into his apartment and closed the door behind him. He would never see or hear from them again. Sierra would have a new daddy in a few weeks or months, whenever Serena chose someone. And no one would permit Sierra to speak of her old daddy from this moment forward. He was in the past. He was over. And that was as it should be. Serena and Sierra didn’t want the same things he did anymore. He couldn’t do anything about that. He had been wrong—selfish—to even try.
As for himself, Gaylen would soon be assigned new roommates, unless he picked some of his own accord. Everyone knew that good company was important.
Gaylen hesitated in his living room. The digital frame on the wall over the faux fireplace held their family photos. He took it down and deleted every picture that included Sierra or Serena.
Tears blurring his vision, he went to the stereo and deleted all the children’s songs they’d downloaded for Sierra, and then all the music Serena had contributed to their collection.
A plastic black-haired doll lay on the floor behind the sofa. Sierra had accidentally left it behind. He got an empty trash bag from the kitchen, shook it open, and threw the doll into it. He carried the trash bag with him as he moved through the house and looked for anything else that had to go.
I am so lucky, he told himself. My life is rich and good. I have everything I want and need in this moment.
In a bathroom cabinet, he found some of Sierra’s hair ties. He added them to the trash bag. He also found some of Serena’s old makeup she’d tossed into the bathroom trash. He emptied that trash bag into the one he carried.
He looked at himself in the mirror. He felt detached from the man he saw there, with his bloodshot eyes.
