A Solstice Carol (1/2)
With Apologies to Charles Dickens
by Maxine McBrinn
Copyright 1996
In the five years since its founding, the town of New Pacifica had grown. Not yet a city, it had become large enough that all varieties of human lifestyles could be found, and all varieties of human behavior. Most of the town was still contained in a small enough area that even the richest people walked about town, and a few multiple-story buildings were starting to crop up. Among the tallest at 3 floors was Morgan Enterprises, owned and run by the founding citizen, entrepreneur and popularly acclaimed Robber Baron, Morgan Martin.
It was late in the afternoon when Morgan Martin looked up irritably as his assistant walked into his office. Bob Allegro stood awkwardly in front the large desk, his hands twisting of their own accord as he tryed to work up the nerve to say something. Morgan didn't say a word, but drummed his fingers in impatience.
"M- M- Mr. Mar- Martin." Allegro paused for a deep, confidence building breath and squared his shoulders. "Mr. Martin," more firmly this time, "The staff would like you to know that we intend to take tomorrow off as a holiday. We want to spend it with our families."
"Spend it with your families!" Morgan derisively spat. "Sure, go right ahead. But you're not going to get paid for the time! In fact, I should insist that you work the weekend to make up for it." He watched in glee as Allegro's face fell in dismay. "Stupid sentimentality. No wonder you're all poor as church mice. Hmmph. I didn't get where I am now by goofing off all the time, you know." He paused and reflected guiltily that he had been known at one point for goofing-off. He hurriedly reminded himself that those were different circumstances. Never-the-less, his tone softened somewhat, "But everyone should be here bright and early the day after. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir. I'll let everyone know that tomorrow is an unpaid holiday." Allegro was already backing out of the office, having to stop himself from bowing his way out.
Morgan stood and walked over to the window. He had a magnificent view, with the ocean visible on one side and the wooded hills of the coastal range on the other. He had made his fortune from those woods, providing lumber and expertise to the thousands of people who moved to New Pacifica, then discovered that they had to build a house. His firm had a monopoly on the trade, since his early start had allowed him to squash all competitors by lowering his prices until they declared bankruptcy. He'd made another fortune buying out the pitiful assests of his former competitors and hiring their employees, at reduced wages, of course. His third fortune had come from charging navigation fees on the Morgan River, and for use of the turnpike he had built across the coastal range. Almost all he surveyed out that window had been built by him, belonged to him, or garnered him fees. Usually, this view cheered him up, let him see how much he had accomplished. But he felt empty, and had for weeks. His wife, Bess, had left him, taking their young son with her. *She* had said that he had lost his heart, here in New Pacifica, and was in danger of losing his soul. "As if such things existed," he thought. Bess was a sweet woman, and usually pretty smart too, but she had a seriously false world view.
Morgan Martin pulled away from the view and straightened his shoulders. He adjusted his jacket and tie, then walked to the outer office where his employees worked in isolated cubicles. Most of them were gathered by the coffee pot, talking furiously in low tones. The low buzz of speech stopped with a tell-tale suddenness as he appeared around the corner.
Bob Allegro stepped forward. "Mr. Martin," he said, "We wanted to wish you a Happy Solstice before we go."
A few in the group behind him mumbled out a dispirited "Happy Solstice".
"Do you have any special plans, sir?" Allegro asked?
"No. I'll come in here and catch up with my work." Morgan answered cooly.
"You're welcome to come share the Solstice with me, sir. My family would be happy to have you join us. We've a few other folks with no family..." Allegro stopped in horror. *Oh no! Mr. Martin was very touchy about his wife leaving him.*
"Thank you, but I'll be happier here." Martin said firmly. "Now, since it's after quitting time, I guess you'll want to leave? I'll see you all here bright and early the day after tomorrow. And don't forget, I'm not paying you for tomorrow."
"Good night, sir!" chorused the group, as they grabbed their coats and hurried out, leaving Morgan Martin alone. Morgan was left to consider that Bob Allegro reminded him of Bess in his determined efforts to be "nice". It was a trait that crippled them both.
By the time Morgan Martin left his office, the sun had set and an evening chill had started to settle in. Not for the first time, he was glad that the coastal environment kept the weather equitable. He didn't miss the snow they had endured for two winters as the Eden Advance Group had struggled toward New Pacifica. Bess had always enjoyed the snow. She said it made their camps look like pictures of the old days on Earth. Solstice had always been her favorite time of the year, and she especially loved to have snow then. Despite the lack of snow, or of really cold weather, he could see bonfires blazing across the settlement, and could hear the sound of carols drifting through the still air. The first winter the Eden Advance group had spent on the planet, Bess and Yale had organized a Solstice/Christmas celebration, in thanks for their health and for the blessings of life on G889. They had focused on the Solstice since many members of the original group were not Christians, and the holiday had become an important celebration for humans on the planet. But Morgan had come to see the holiday as a waste of time, and was notorious for his dislike for it. "Bah Humbug!" he muttered to himself, remembering vaguely that the expression used to be associated with Christmas.
He let himself into his empty house, the largest and showiest in the town. Bess had taken very little with her when she had left, but somehow the life had been sucked out of the place. His footsteps echoed on the hard wood floors as he went into the kitchen to make himself an omelette. He could afford a cook, but couldn't see the sense of paying someone to make a meal for just one person. Unfortunately, he was an inexperienced cook. Bess had enjoyed cooking and had been very good at it, so he had never moved beyond how to make her an occasional breakfast in bed. He'd been eating eggs and toast for weeks now. "Bah Humbug!" he repeated. The phrase felt right for his mood, so he growled it again as he trudged upstairs for bed an hour later.
The bedroom was the emptiest room in the house, even though Bess hadn't taken any furniture from it. She'd taken a mattress from one of the empty "guest" rooms in the house, instead. Over the years they'd been together, though, he had gotten used to having a warm body to snuggle with at night. The bed felt huge and cold, an empty expanse he could never hope to fill or warm by himself. He tossed and turned before falling into a fitful sleep.
Morgan's eyes opened, and he bolted up in his bed, screaming loudly. Gaal was standing in front of him, right beside his bed. Morgan's screams faded to a whimper as he realized that no one could hear him. Gaal looked just as he had the last time Morgan saw him, with his rags and dreadlocks, but his face was curiously blank.
"What are you d- d- d- doing here? You're dead! You're dead! The Terrians pulled you into the earth!" Morgan stuttered, a nervous squeak in his voice, but Gaal's expression never changed. Morgan took a closer look; was that a Terrian standing next to Gaal? "Oh no," he breathed.
Gaal raised his rag enshrouded arm and Morgan's heart thudded painfully in his chest and ears as the dead murderer seemed to point directly at him. Then Gaal's hand turned so that the palm was up. Did he think Morgan was an idiot? There was no way the businessman was going to touch the convict, or ghost, or whatever he was.
Morgan backed up, across the bed, until he was clutching the edge farthest from the dead penal colonist. "W- wh- what? What do you w-- want?"
Gaal walked around the bottom of the bed, as Morgan whimpered an invocation to send the vision away, "This is just a nightmare. That's what this is. You're dead. You've been dead for years. I don't believe in ghosts. You're dead. Go away. Go away."
Gaal didn't pay any attention, but held his hand out again, clearly wanting Morgan to take it.
The Terrian walked over to the shaking man in the bed and reached out, grabbing his hand before Morgan thought to pull it behind him. The alien placed Morgan's hand in Gaal's, who grasped it tightly in an ice cold fist, and the Terrian trilled.
The snow was thick around them; the sunlight reflected so brightly off that white surface that Morgan was forced to squint. The smell of wood smoke was in the air, and he could hear cheerful shouts from the woods beside him. He looked around, trying to discretely tug his hand from Gaal's. He knew this place...If only he could remember...
Cameron walked toward him, shouting "Bess! Bess! I found a great one, over here!" And Bess appeared from behind a grove of trees.
"Is it really pretty? How tall is it? Show me!" She was happy and excited, as Morgan hadn't seen her in years. His eyes misted over as he noticed, as he hadn't in years, how beautiful she was. And suddenly he knew where and when they were. The biodome was just around that hill. This was where they had spent their first winter on G889.
He turned to Gaal, "This our first winter on the planet?" Gaal nodded, his face expressionless. Morgan was vaguely aware of the Terrian, still standing behind them, but his attention was focused on the penal colonist they had met soon after they had crashed.
Morgan didn't resist when Gaal pulled him toward the biodome, although he stopped short as Bess looked right at him. But her gaze didn't pause, but continued on around. "Walman! Walman! Oh, Danziger, come help us! Cameron's found a great tree! It'll look perfect in the Common Room."
The big mechanic sighed theatrically, then growled, "And I guess you want me to come help you drag this poor tree inside."
Bess smiled sweetly, "Yes, but only after you help us cut it down." She reached forward to grab his gloved hand, "Come on, we need your help."
Danziger followed happily, although he grumbled for appearances sake. "Yeah, and you probably want me to think up a gift for True, and help you decorate the place."
"Yes, and to think of some good stories for around the Yule log too. The tree's over here."
As their voices faded into the distance, Morgan looked into Gaal's face again. "They can't see us, can they?"
The convict solemnly shook his head.
Morgan looked behind them, and noticed that his little group hadn't left any tracks in the thick snow. "Hey, how come we aren't leaving any footprints? Are we ghosts? Are we dead? Am I dead?" Hysteria raised the pitch of his voice, so that he squeaked a bit on that last question.
Gaal pointed, still expressionless.
Morgan saw himself sneaking something into the tent he and Bess shared. He was up to something, but what was it? The camp was full of people, all the crew members they had shared the journey with, and many of them had decorations in their hands. Julia and Alonzo strolled by, not touching, but obviously in love. Devon stepped out to shout for Uly and True, then waved as Yale appeared with the children in tow. Baines was talking to Magus and Eben. A strange feeling shuddered down Morgan's spine and into his stomach, where he felt a strange emptiness that had nothing to do with hunger. Eben! This was before she died. A small lump formed in his throat, as his jaw cramped and his eyes misted.
Reality rippled, and it was night time, a relatively balmy evening. The stars shone overhead, unbelievably bright and sharp away from the light of the moons. New Pacifica's lights drowned out the starts at night and he had forgotten how beautiful they could be. The whole camp was gathered around a huge fire as Eben and Baines sang a carol from long ago, a carol he remembered slightly from his childhood. The voices were untrained but sweet in the firelight. He and Gaal, shadowed by the Terrian, stood just outside the circle where Morgan could see himself holding hands and sitting with Bess. They had been so much in love then, just a few months after they had remarried forever. The lump in his throat got bigger, so that he had to work to swallow past it. He turned to Gaal, "This was the year that Bess and I gave each other gifts we had made from her dried plants. And Magus made a cake from Spirolina flour!"
Gaal nodded, then pointed in front of them.
When he looked back at the circle, Yale was describing how this was the shortest day of the year, and how the days would get longer from now on, giving them a sign that spring was on its way. And then he stood, and started to sing a beautiful song, "Silent Night." The entire group joined him, their voices soft against the stillness of the night.
And Morgan was standing, shivering in his bedroom. Gaal was gone; the room was empty. "Whoa! What a dream! That's the last time I eat eggs and cheese before going to sleep. It's just indigestion," he said out loud to reassure himself. Morgan crawled back into his empty bed, tucking himself in after fluffing up the pillows. He had just gotten comfortable when he heard a floor board creak. A familiar voice rang out from behind his bedroom door as a sudden light flowed through the crack under the door. "Morgan Martin, come out! Morgan, come to see the present."
Morgan cowered under his blankets, covering his head with the pillow and murmuring, "No, I don't want to see any more. I've seen enough, thank you. I'll just stay here and sleep."
"Morgan, it's your destiny. You must come out."
"If I come with you, will you leave me alone after?" he whispered, not expecting whoever was out there to hear him.
But the voice chuckled and said, "If you come out, I'll leave you alone after. But come you must."
He reluctantly pulled himself from his warm, comfy bed, and shrugged into his robe and slippers. Hesitantly, he walked toward that light under the door. As he cracked the door open, he stopped in shock. Alonzo Solace stood there, wearing the flight suit he had long since abandoned, the flight suit he had worn when they crashed onto this planet.
"Alonzo?"
"No, I'm not Alonzo. But I wear his form. I'm here to show you the Solstice celebrations of today. Solstice is to the humans what Mooncross is to us. There is no ability to not celebrate."
"Look, if you are trying to 'reform' me, don't bother. I'm the way I am, and that's the way I'll always be. Don't waste your tricks on me," Morgan dragged himself upright from his cower.
"But you are worth the effort -- you know what is right and good, deep inside. That's why you are so unhappy. We are here to help you find the right path again. You've walked it before; you can walk it again."
"Okay, let's get this over with. But I still think you're wasting my time and yours."
Morgan looked up to see that they were in a house, a house he'd never been in before. "What a dump!" he groused at Alonzo. "Honestly, you'd think that they'd try to furnish it better."
Alonzo pointed at a group of people gathered around a table, laughing and talking. There were a couple of small children he'd never seen before, one with the tell-tale signs of a recovering syndrome child, and 10 adults. The plates were full, and there were platters of food taking up all the remaining space on the table top. Each of the people had a wine glass in front of them, even the children, although theirs were filled with milk. He recognized his assistant, Bob Allegro, sitting proudly at the head of the table. Allegro stood, tapping lightly on his glass with a spoon to ask for quiet, then raised his glass for a toast, "To this beautiful new home, and all the dreams it made come true."
"Hear, Hear!" All the glassed were raised, even the children's.
"To Absent Friends!"
"Hear, Hear!"
"To Mr. Martin, who couldn't make it here today."
And there was silence.
The woman sitting at the far end of the table looked familiar, and Morgan was trying to think why when she said, "But dear, *he* doesn't celebrate the Solstice. And he won't pay you for today, either, even though every other employer in New Pacifica does." Morgan remembered. Allegro had a photo of her on his desk.
Morgan's face burned with embarrassment. He turned to Alonzo and asked, "Is this today? You're showing me today's Solstice, right?"
"Yes, this is now. You see that Bob Allegro celebrates the Solstice with generousity."
"But he's poor. I certainly don't pay enough for him to be generous."
Alonzo just turned back to the table.
"But Myrna, he's an unhappy man. If he was happier, he'd be more generous." Allegro said, "We may not be the richest here in New Pacifica, but I'm willing to bet that we may be the luckiest and the happiest. Let's not forget, " he smiled fondly at the small child to his right, "Dara is well. We never thought we'd see her live past her 8th birthday, but now she's here to stay. We can afford to be charitable."
The people around the table nodded solemnly, then lifted their glasses and repeated, "To Mr. Martin."
Story Notes:
Once again I find that there is just something right about this time of year for writing Earth 2 Fan Fiction. This story was inspired by the score of "Christmas Carol" adaptations out there. You know, you've seen them. Even "Xena" got into the act this year. Well, by golly, if they can do it, so can we!
So here's a bit of fudge: it's sweet and small and best enjoyed around holidays. The first Solstice celebration on G889 is described in my other Christmas/Hanukkah story, "Silent Night". Andy has it in his FF archive, but I'd be happy to send it to anyone who'd like a copy.
The Terrians depicted in this story are completely uncanonical, but they are the only beings who had the powers to do what I needed them to do. I promise that I'll go back to the inscrutable, opaque Terrians we all know and love in the next story.
I gratefully thank the kind souls who gently corrected my mis-steps and, more particularly, my mis-spellings: Jayel Wylie, Laura Pickering and Lisa Morehart. Helpful editors are gifts from heaven.
As always, any comments will be cheerfully accepted.
Standard Disclaimer: The characters belong to Universal. This story belongs to me (and to the Late Mr. Dickens.)
And now, on with the show!
So here's a bit of fudge: it's sweet and small and best enjoyed around holidays. The first Solstice celebration on G889 is described in my other Christmas/Hanukkah story, "Silent Night". Andy has it in his FF archive, but I'd be happy to send it to anyone who'd like a copy.
The Terrians depicted in this story are completely uncanonical, but they are the only beings who had the powers to do what I needed them to do. I promise that I'll go back to the inscrutable, opaque Terrians we all know and love in the next story.
I gratefully thank the kind souls who gently corrected my mis-steps and, more particularly, my mis-spellings: Jayel Wylie, Laura Pickering and Lisa Morehart. Helpful editors are gifts from heaven.
As always, any comments will be cheerfully accepted.
Standard Disclaimer: The characters belong to Universal. This story belongs to me (and to the Late Mr. Dickens.)
And now, on with the show!