Short Story: The Man Who Does Not Smile.

[victorhadin]

Well at Friedrich's insistence () I shall post another one of my short stories. Since this time it is a complete story, I may remind you that it is my own copyrighted material and so I would appreciate it if you didn't copy it or paste it elsewhere in any way. Thankyou.

Again; I do hope you like it and if you have any criticisms as to how it could be made better, I would like very much to hear them.

[victorhadin]

The Man Who Does Not Smile.

[/siz]



"Why don’t you ever smile, Claide?"
It was a question that had been asked many a time. Many a time it had been asked and many a time it had not been correctly answered. Dr. Miles Claide was, quite frankly, not one given to answering such questions about himself which, to his mode of thinking, were simply not relevant at all. He stood a clear six feet in his grey suit, and light, blond hair was visible under his hat. He looked thoroughly youthful in the glare of the midday sunlight, and would look all the more youthful, as his acquaintance John Carter never failed to remind him, if he ever bothered to actually crack a decent, wide-mouthed grin once in a while.
"I don’t know. I suppose I’m simply not the type." He showed a slim grimace, which passed for a smirk on his face.
"Very well." Spoke his acquaintance. But you realize I really must keep badgering you, else you’ll never change your ways you know?"
From anyone else, this would have been passed off as a harmful jab, but this wasn’t anyone else. John was quite serious whenever he spoke critically about others and in people less patient or more temperamental than Miles, this would have proven a delicate but certain source of irritation. Aside from this he was not all that bad a fellow, by Miles’s reckoning. Standing a good half a foot shorter than he and dressed in a thoroughly conservative brown jacket, he looked every inch the traditionalist gentleman, his greying hair receding steadily and his eyes set well back in his head, full of jovial promise. He was a solid sixty years old, and despite the various medical wonders available to modern science, he looked it.
Miles spoke again. "Well, I shall take the liberty of changing the subject and ask you about your wife, to pick a completely random subject matter. Is she well?"
"Yes, yes. She’s fully recovered, back to work and back to her usual whims and ways, thank you for asking."
He nodded, seemingly happy with the knowledge. "Good, good."
The two walked stood in silence for a bit. Around them, the landscape was moving by at speed, desolate and inhabited only by the occasional bush or shrub. They stood on a platform, encased with clear plastic, which was moving with rapidity down an equally clear and transparent vacuum-tube. Around them were chairs, currently occupied by impatient and indignant travelers, which they had thought to allow the benefits of sitting down during the journey. The equatorial sun, seemingly magnified by the curved ceiling of the vehicle, lanced down upon them all and raised sweat on the brows of all present. All but Miles, at any rate, who had managed to avoid such a thing.
"Anyhow old chap" spoke John. "I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you a good and satisfying future, wherever you end up."
"Why thank you, but there is plenty of time for goodbyes; no need for it right now. We still have a little while before we arrive at Elevator control."
The old man nodded. "True indeed, but it needs saying. I can’t help wondering, though, why it is you are off to the depths of space anyhow? What’s so wrong with Earth nowadays?"
Miles raised an eyebrow for a moment. "What indeed?" He fiddled with his tie. "Well, to be honest, I feel there is a lot more wrong with life on Earth than you seem to see." He gestured at the passing landscape, flat and featureless. "This planet is decaying, John. Our society is slowing and grinding slower and slower as time goes on. Quite frankly I find it stale."
"Stale? What the heavens is stale about Earth, about Sol for that matter? Here is where it all happens, my friend. With all our variety and culture and experience; you’re not anywhere near old enough to be bored with this planet!"
Another raised eyebrow. "Well, to you perhaps. I could well be wrong, of course, but I just don’t see it that way."
"You wouldn’t!"
A wry, thin grin. "I suppose I am somewhat pigheaded when I get going, yes. Even so, I am still leaving."
John shrugged. "Ah well. I can’t keep you here by force. If the colonies are what you want, then you shall have them." He paused to wipe his brow. "Which one, anyway?"
"Pardon?"
"Which colony? Plynthe, Allenia, The Kingdom, one of the others? Which one?"
"I can’t say I’m all too sure. One of them, I suppose. Perhaps even a space habitat or somesuch."
"Wait just a second. You’re leaving Earth and you’re not even stopping to think where you want to go?"
"Certainly. It’s the best way to travel."
"You’re bonkers." The old man laughed uproariously. "Just as always."
A nod. A rare blink. A look forwards, towards their destination. "Look. You can see it."
John looked forward; he could indeed. A single thin black line could be seen, reaching skywards to infinity and invisibility, or perhaps instead dangling from the heavens to the Earth below. He knew that in reality it was neither. Some tens of thousands of kilometres overhead, the anchor asteroid kept the whole thing taut and stiff; the whole imagination-straining reality that was a Space Elevator. Somewhere up ahead would be the Elevator control station, from which the massive carriages would be propelled upwards or received on their path downwards, braking steadily on a string of superconducting coils. It’s momentum being converted through variations of magnetic flux to electricity, which, he knew, would be aiding the more upwardly-mobile carriages on their way up. Both efficient and awe-inspiring to look at, it was one of the few things that piqued his interest in the engineering discipline. "It can’t be long now."
There was no reply from Miles. The man was staring forwards intently, his impeccable suit following his arms, which were now reached out to the handrail. The man had still managed to retain a dry brow, in the face of all the silent fury of the weather and the entirely insufficient air conditioning. John wondered idly how he managed it.
"Miles?" He spoke, until the man turned towards him. "I suppose I shouldn’t really intrude, but why is it that it is I who is giving you the send-off today?"
"Why, you are a dear friend, John. Why ever shouldn’t you be?"
"I know, I know. –But I’m given to wonder Miles, why I seem to be the only one. You’re a quiet chap and I respect that, but surely there are others? Loved ones and family, perhaps? You have never introduced me to any relatives of yours."
The stare he was rewarded with at that was quite unprecedented, seeming to drill straight into his mind. "As you say, I am a quiet fellow." He turned away and swept his eyes across the landscape once more, as if testing it for any sign it heard him. "I won’t lie to you, John. There are none."
"None at all?"
"None, as you say, at all. I have no children, no wife, no close relatives to give me the grand send-off. Of my coworkers, you are the only one I could really call a close friend, and you are the closest of my close friends."
John turned away briefly, as if deflecting a wave of embarrassment for the poor fellow beside him. “Don’t say that, Miles. You are well-liked, you know. I know of nobody who holds anything against you or views you in a dim light. Don’t be so self-deprecating."
"I am well-liked, maybe." He said. "Well-liked, but not well-known. Few outside my workplace know me and I do not know any of the friends or loved ones of the people that I do know. Except for you, John, that trend holds true."
A sigh. "Well that’s your lifestyle. I can’t say I would envy it but each to his own, I guess." To his side, Miles nodded solemnly. "Is this why you leave? To find a new beginning? A new identity?"
The tall blond doctor looked deeply at him. "That is truer than you would think. Indeed." He looked away once more and left John frowning, both at the imposed mystery of the statement and the hastening of time as the station grew closer.
"We’re slowing down, John."
"Really?" He had not felt a thing, and there was no discernable difference at the rate at which the scarce plant life hurled its way past them as they crossed the rocky desert. He shook his head. "More of your well-tuned senses at work, no doubt. I always fail to understand how you avoid aging like the rest of us." He looked at his tall companion. Indeed, the man had not aged a day since he had met him, nearly two decades back. Most fortunate for him.
A minute later and it was obvious Miles had been correct. The platform was indeed slowing down and, in the distance, a large structure was present. –The Elevator control station. "Well there it is." He said, needlessly.
Another nod came from his companion.
"Well" said John, pumping his voice with a bit more enthusiasm, "we haven’t much time now, so how’s about you elaborating on your travel plans?"
"I have none, as I said."
"Not that, not that. –I mean your intentions for the future. What you aim to do with your life and ambitions."
Miles gave another meaningful stare. "I mean to survive, John." Before the meaning of this could be questioned, he went on. "I mean to reinvent myself so that I might keep going."
"Ah. I think I see what you mean. You’ve run most of your life and you are disappointed with what you’ve done, am I right? You need a change to keep yourself sane?"
He shook his head. "No. It’s not like that at all."
John’s frown deepened. "Miles. You haven’t done anything… wrong have you? Anything illegal?" He inspected Mile’s eyes.
"Heavens no!" Came the answer with perhaps more force behind it than was natural. "You know me better than that. I have never done anything to contravene the law, John. Why, a man in my position, -it just wouldn’t do! Not in my position."
John nodded and looked forwards once more, towards the vast building complex that was nearing.
-Elevator control was vast. If it were seen from above, several concentric rings, joined by massive spokes would be seen to surround the Elevator line. Beyond it, countless vacuum-tubes like the one he was situated on currently radiated outwards, or possibly converged inwards towards the complex. This Elevator was nominated for passage of civilian passengers only, and so each and every one of those vacuum tubes would contain fast moving trains like the one John stood in, moving inwards or outwards, to or from the Elevator itself, in all its incomprehensible scale.
And yet from ground level none of that detail could be seen. All that was visible was the outer ring, a vast wall of composite, plastic and glass, the central Elevator platform, rising like a hill above the rest of the complex and, of course, the Elevator line itself. Extending, at its lowest reach, at least a mile or two underground, it also rose majestically skywards, straight up. He tried to follow it with his gaze but got lost in infinity, his eyes incapable of seeing detail fine enough to follow it all the way, as perspective thinned it to nothingness. He knew that right now, at this very moment, cameras and sensors studded around the line would be locked onto this train, and he took them and their attached weapon systems for granted. The Elevators were probably the most heavily guarded structures on Earth, and for good reason. Any structure well in excess of thirty thousand kilometres in height would make one hell of a lot of damage if separated from its anchor asteroid far above, or instill massive financial loss if disconnected at the base, near impossible as that would be, and allowed to float away, towed by the asteroid. No doubt the asteroid itself would be even more heavily guarded; a clot of militarism floating through the heavens, on the tip of an engineering wonder unequalled in the history of mankind. Incredible.
He ceased looking skywards and focused on Miles, who was looking increasingly agitated; most unlike him. "Are you quite alright there, old chap?" He said, concerned but smiling.
Miles frowned. "Not especially. I am most tense, in fact. I am but a mile or so away from my gateway to freedom, and I don’t know what might go wrong."
"Nothing will. You have nothing to hide."
Another questionable glance was aimed at John, followed by a whisper. "Don’t be so sure, my friend."
John’s eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
Miles motioned silence, and was not to be goaded about it. This only served to further unnerve John, who was becoming quite alarmed as it was. Was his old friend Miles not all he seemed? Vivid and unlikely images flashed through his mind; was he smuggling? Was he on the run from the law? Had he voiced political dissidence? Could it be that he, John Carpenter, was sharing a platform with a killer or fugitive? No! Certainly not! Not Miles!
"Are you…" he queried, pointing forwards towards the complex "the Elevator?"
More silence.
Dear Lord, no! Surely not! His mind could not strive to keep out the images. Images of a terrorist sleeper, bent on the destruction of an Elevator, on riding it up and destroying the anchor asteroid, causing the great cable to fall tens of thousands of kilometres down. Faster and faster it would fall, wrapping itself around the planet in a line of furious fire and devastation.
He shook the image mentally from his head. It made no sense. If Miles was intent on causing destruction to the Elevator, he would not take a dear friend with him en route, to be targeted and taken down as he was. Certainly not.
"How are the children?" spoke Miles, interrupting his thoughts.
"They are well." He said, before adding to that. "Last week I taught Matthew to ride a bicycle without stabilizers."
"Splendid. Tell him well done from me, and goodbye, of course."
"Certainly. I shall do that."
The tall Doctor turned to look again at him. "John, are you certain you are fine? You seem tense."
"No, no. Not at all." He stammered.
Another grin, or grimace, showing no teeth. "I do hope I’m not unnerving you with my own lack of calm. I am merely rather excited by it all."
The docking platform was nearing now, with the train moving only at a crawl. Passengers were getting ready and crowding around the side-mounted airlocks, ready to step off the vehicle.
"Miles?" Said John, the hot sweat on his brow beginning to turn clammy with nerves.
"Yes?"
"Is there something I should know, really? About you I mean?"
The response was mixed. Initially, Miles started to frown, then to let his face relax to a more vacant posture. Finally, after several seconds, he sighed, looking to the floor before looking calmly and serenely into John’s eyes. "Yes. Yes there is." He motioned for him to lean closer. "Come closer and I shall tell you."
"Very well." He leaned closer.
"John." Said Miles, his eyes full of sorrow. "You are an old friend, and I owe this explanation to you, for I have hidden it for far too long and even, fearful as I have been, for the duration of our short trip here." There was a hiss behind them as the airlock opened into the access tunnel, which had extended from the platform and the walls of the vacuum tube. Passengers started bustling off the train. "I fear I must admit that I was being more literal than you thought regarding a change of identity."
"About starting anew."
"About, as I just said, a change of identity." His hands gripped each other. "When I leave the Solar system and land where I may, I will no longer be Doctor Miles Claide. I will have a new persona that I have been unable to adopt on Earth.
"This planet has become stale, as I have said, and I meant it in several ways. We simply can’t move anymore, John. We are all too closely monitored and too carefully observed now. Everything we do is incorporated into the great Sol bureaucracy, and it is all-seeing. We are finding it harder and harder to hide and remain part of the crowd."
"We?"
"For years, decades even, we have been managing, just. As the totalitarianism descended slowly, year upon year, generation upon generation, it became harder and harder to move, to change and to become someone else. It has now reached the stage where it is flatly impossible. Everything that is done is to be signed, secured, sealed, copied and authorized. It is no way for anyone to live, -least of all us, who cannot afford to live that way."
John motioned for him to go on, which he duly did.
"We are leaving now. Leaving this planet upon which we have lived for so long, and it is an exodus. There are thousands of us, perhaps a million or more now who are in my position and are acting as I do. We are moving outwards to the colonies where me may live our changeable, solitary lives as we have always done, under different identities and different guises over time. Maybe one day they, too, will be as this planet is. That time has not yet arrived, however." The bustling of passengers was diminishing now as the last few left the train.
"You said ‘we’, Miles. Who are ‘we’?" The look of quiet agony he received at that point was one he would remember for the rest of his life.
"John, friend, you have always wondered about me, I know. You have wondered why I am such an introvert, why I select my friends and comrades so carefully, why I do not smile and why I have remained youthful in a way you have certainly not."
"Well I would have put it in a slightly more tactful way,-" spoke John, but he was silenced as Miles caught his ear and leant towards it, to whisper.
"I am not human, John." He leant back again. "That is why I live like this. That is why I must change myself as I change my location and my friends, lest some become suspicious. –For what is more suspicious than a man who does not age?"
John stood and gaped. Surely such a thing could not be true. Surely this was an elaborate ruse, a joke played at his expense! He gaped again as Miles turned and walked towards the exit of the train. "Stop! Why do you tell me this, Miles?"
Dr Miles stopped, mid-stride and turned around, the shadow of the exit tunnel covering his hat and that of his hat covering his face. "You wanted to know why it is that I do not smile. Come closer."
John obliged and did so, unsure of what to make of this.
And then, tilting his hat forward in such a way that no security camera or guard could possibly see, Miles smiled for the first time ever, open-mouthed and wide. John stuttered in surprise and alarm.
-For there, where Mile’s canine teeth should have resided, two long, white and sharpened fangs projected down from his upper gums, glinting in the half-light of the shadow beneath his inclined hat.
He stood and smiled again, before about-turning and walking away, to be lost in the crowds and the armed guards, leaving John standing and thinking about what he had said.
‘Not a man in my position’ the tall, blond, ever-youthful doctor had said, before explaining himself further.
John stood perfectly still for a second, before removing his own hat and scratching his head, complete with its grey and thinning hair.
"Well I’ll be damned."

[Imperial]

tsk tsk tsk, I expected a different direction but oh well

I'll comment more over ICQ for I have some criticism