He Without Sin by Ed Hyde

be?—is the light really there? Yes. And what is it from? What is close to but behind the eyes? I have wondered—does the brain itself glow? Can it be that the activity of billions of neurons, endlessly processing, receiving, sending, storing, living, utilizes enough energy that some is lost through light as well as heat? This is what I must conclude: At the edges of the eye socket, a tiny bit of light leaks out from the vast assemblage of active living cells glowing like the core of an organic reactor.
    I don’t feel well. Carol says it’s nerves. Mark says I need a cocktail. Grigor says it’s too much work and pressure. Dylan says to see the doc, who says it’s a minor reaction to the treatments we’ve all received, those of us who are part of the first ground crew. He says rest, read, write, sleep; whatever relaxes and calms you. Porter says, in his unique way, to get to work. He’s right.
    Doing inventory helps. All my gear is in order. Really there’s not that much to carry on my person; a little more to set up my ground quarters work area. But even so, what’s forgotten can be ordered for the next trip down. We are told that Mark’s ‘fab lab’ equipment will be set up as soon as possible. And then needed items can be made right there on the surface.
    One last sweep of the ship’s systems; current states and codes all logged and archived. I can monitor these from the surface too.
    Sleep helped. A nap can be a wonderful thing. I had an odd vivid dream about drowning. I was in shallow water near a shore. There were waves but not large ones. I was doubled over, face down; I could touch bottom easily, and if I tried I could stand up and breathe. But the strange part was that I was OK not breathing. I had no desire to stand nor was I in distress. Not OK with drowning mind you, but OK with the current state—like I said, odd. Then the second strange thing: Someone waded into the water, grabbed my arms and / or shirt and hoisted me up and onto my feet. I turned to see who it was and saw…me. Told you—weird dream.
     

Part II

     

    Surface
    Another deep breath; the air is thick and rich. The red-orange glow of bright daylight through eyelids is glorious. The heat of the sun on my face—it’s been a long time. The occasional gust of wind has a bite to it but no matter. After the monotony of the uniform and unchanging shipboard climate the heat and cold both bring the pleasure of sensation, of being part of a real world again. It’s exhilarating.
    “Snap out of it and give me a hand, will you?” Mark is smiling as he asks, and tilting his head upward takes a deep breath as well, and another. The contrast in environments between the sterile confines of the ship and this fresh organic world cannot be larger. “I smell flowers somewhere.”
    “It’s probably me,” I joke. Looking around at his chosen base site, I see barren rock. A jagged and rough location with little to no sign of vegetation. There are no flowers and not likely to be any nearby. “This is the spot, eh? It’s isolated all right and no flowers.”
    “There’s something for sure on the wind, coming from the lower elevations no doubt, but it’s there. I need to get around and see what’s what but not until all this is up and running.” Mark is referring to his fabrication and processing facility. Using the natural formations in several cases, he has created a number of closely situated enclosures, one of which is my tiny home on this world.
    “They seem pretty flimsy for any kind of longevity,” I say already knowing that they will suffice for whatever work needs to be done. I don’t mean to insult. I just want to keep the conversation going.
    Mark gives me a look but doesn’t speak right away, as if asking himself, “Is he kidding?”
    “Although, our quarters are sturdy enough for our purposes,” I add as a palliative. “How in the world did we get all of this equipment and material in the ship?” I ask, now more