by Benjamin Drueke
“Near the end of the twentieth century, humankind unlocked the human genome. At the end of the twenty-first, prenatal genetic manipulation was regulated, and all genetic disorders had been eliminated. In 2130, we had a stable colony on Mars. Twenty years later, global warming claimed Earth and plunged it into an ice age. Billions died in the initial storms; the rest evacuated on arks, either to Mars or off across interstellar space to the Alpha Centauri system. In 2210, scientists formulated and executed a plan to create a star out of Jupiter.”
“Professor,” one student interrupted, “isn’t that scientifically impossible? To make a star from a planet?”
“If you hadn’t interrupted, I would have been able to explain. The plan was to enlarge Jupiter’s mass to forge a brown dwarf, then gravitationally assist the fall of Saturn and Uranus into the new star to make it bigger and hotter. So Jupiter was turned into a red dwarf.”
“Wait, then we didn’t always have two suns?” another student asked.
“No, it was a planet, the sixth of eight planets in the system.”
“Professor Reynolds, you speak as if you remember, but that was nearly three thousand years ago.”
#
The truth was that I did remember, because I was there, though I had been sworn to secrecy long ago. I was part of the Soul Finder Project, a genetic experiment in the quest of immortality. We were created in 2115 and designed to be and stay immortal unless we found our soulmate: the one person to complete us. The only thing they could not solve was external forces. There were ten of us to start; we all aged normally until the age of eighteen, then stopped. Four of the others ended up being each other’s soulmates and lived normal, happy lives. Two were siblings and, oddly enough, ended up matched together. They both married other people but lived in such proximity that they too lived normal lives. One died in a car accident and another in the storms that took Earth, which left two of us. Annabeth, if I remember correctly, was the one whose soulmate died in the accident. Last I heard of her, she was headed off to Alpha Centauri. I’ve had a few lovers; I ended up aging to about sixty years old between the two of them. I met my first wife, Helen, when I was twenty-three, and we were together for around fifteen years and had two children. She got sick and passed away two years later. The kids and I moved to Mars the following year. I stayed there for nearly 200 years, becoming nothing more than a distant name on the family tree. I was specializing in chemistry back then, so I was nominated to go in the first wave of settlers to Saturn’s moon Titan. I met my second wife on the five-year journey. Her name was Melody. She was a mechanical engineer in charge of overseeing the base construction. She was in her late fifties when we met and married. Everyone found it strange that I married someone so much older than I was, but I laughed to myself, knowing that I was almost 250 years old. She passed away in her sleep a week shy of her eightieth birthday. When she died, part of me died too; same with Helen. I secluded myself, changed my name to Stanley Reynolds, and moved to the other side of the former moon. I don’t remember if I’ve ever used the name Stanley before. Honestly, I don’t even remember what my original name is.
#
“Professor Reynolds?” One of the students called me back to the class.
“I apologize, but no, I was not there. I teach history, in case you have forgotten what class you’re in.”
Several of the students snickered.
“It’s my job to present history in a believable and understandable manner. Now, the addition of the second sun drastically changed our solar system.” I looked at the clock. “But, unfortunately, we’re out of time. Your report is due at the end of next week.”
#
The rest of the week was dedicated to the formation of Sol Beta, the name given to Jupiter after it was turned into a star. Reports started coming in. There were several that seemed to be verbatim from the textbook, others that just rambled. There was one student who always did her research. She waited till after class to hand in her assignment, and as everyone left, I began to pack my lesson plan and erase the digital screen.
“Professor?” I looked up to see Mary standing in front of my desk. “May I ask you something?” she said as she handed over her report.
“Of course,” I replied, placing the report with the last of my things in my bag.
“I was wondering if it would be possible to have you teach me privately. My scholarships ran out, and I have had to take multiple jobs to stay in my apartment and in school.”
She was nearly in tears, and for the first time in a thousand years, I felt something stir in my heart. I placed my hand on my chest and smiled. “Of course, but why me? I know the campus has an excellent tutoring program for people in similar situations.”
“That is one of my jobs. I’m one of the campus tutors,” she replied in an exasperated tone. “But in order to keep the job, I have to maintain full-time status and a 3.75 GPA. Unfortunately, it still does not pay enough, so I had to get a second job to afford everything else. I have asked all of my other professors, and they just offer extended deadlines. Helpful, but I need someone to teach me. I can pay you for your time, of course, not much but what little I can spare—”
I cut her off. “Mary, you are perhaps the smartest student I have had in my many years of teaching.” As I said that, I remembered that I had now been teaching for over 1,500 years. “I will gladly tutor you for free. In exchange,” I said, before she burst with excitement, “you will reward me by maintaining a 4.0, graduating with honors, and, lastly, being my teaching assistant for all three of my classes. You will need to quit your second job; how much do you get paid there? It doesn’t matter, really; the teaching assistant position pays 150 credits per class hour. All of my classes are four class hours each.” The octave that girl hit, I’m sure could have shattered glass. She raced around the desk and threw her arms around me, then quickly realized what she’d done and backed away.
“Thank you, Professor. When would you like me to start?”
“How about Monday?” I said as I fastened my bag. “Go ahead and quit that second job. Enjoy the weekend.”
She was beaming as she turned around and left. I placed my hand on my chest and stood there. The last time I’d felt a stirring sensation like this was in the presence of Melody. I smiled and left the room.
#
The semester continued, and as it did, I always felt a little strange when I was around her. At first it was an extra gray hair. Then wrinkles appeared in the corners of my eyes. After she graduated and left the university, these changes stopped, and all the strange feelings went away. I tried not to think much about it, but as time went on, there was a nagging feeling, like something was incomplete, like something was missing. I kept passing off what I remembered, what I had lived, as things I learned.
#
It was twenty years before I saw Mary again. I was walking to my office when another professor passed me in the hall. “Did you hear? Ms. Walters retired yesterday. Can you believe they already have a replacement?”
“That was fast. Do you know who it is?”
“Yeah, she just arrived this morning. Something Winters. I can’t remember her first name. She was born and raised here on Titan. I believe she did her undergraduate here.”
I thought for a moment. “Winters . . .” The name sounded familiar, but I had heard so many names in my life that I’d probably known several thousand Winterses. “Is there going to be a meeting where we get to meet her?”
“No need.” A very familiar voice spoke behind me. I turned around, and a ghost stood before me. “Hello, Professor. It’s been a long time. You haven’t aged a day . . .”
“My, my, Mary Winters.” It was her. After all these years, the girl that had made me feel again was standing before me. “No need to call me professor anymore. You’re an adult now, and a fellow teacher, so you may call me Stan if you like.”
She blushed. “Stan? That’s just too weird. If you don’t mind, may I still call you professor until I get used to the idea of calling you by your first name?”
I laughed. “Of course, Mary. So you’re the one taking over for Carol. How does it feel to be back?”
“Strange. My first class is this afternoon, and I’m more than a bit nervous,” she confessed.
I had forgotten how beautiful her auburn hair was. My chest began to stir again.
“Professor? Stan? Are you okay?”
I snapped back, though my heart began to race to hear her say my name. “Sorry.” I smiled. “You’ll do fine. I believe I had you cover a lecture or two of mine when you were my TA.”
“But that was so long ago,” she said.
“Surely you taught as part of your graduate studies.”
She took a deep breath. “You’re right. This is just like graduate school. Same class. I’m just . . .” She trailed off.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Mary.”
#
I had been spending time with Mary around campus, helping her with whatever problems she was having. It was about a month later that I first noticed my vision blurring. I went and got a pair of glasses.
“I really dislike having to wear glasses. In all my life, I’ve never had to wear them.”
“I think you look rather dashing,” Mary said shyly.
I looked at her, and she blushed.
We would have lunch together and take walks around campus. On one walk she grabbed my hand to show me something and then didn’t let go. It took me several months, but I finally asked her on a date.
“Of course, Stan. I’ve always wished you would.”
It didn’t take long before more signs of aging took place. My once-blond hair became gray, my muscle definition softened, and my eyesight grew worse. It was worth it though; it only took me two months before I proposed. At first, she didn’t know what to say, but she eventually said yes. We were married on the Solstice a year later, when Sol Beta eclipsed Sol Alpha.
“As the two suns become one, so shall these two,” the priest said as we were declared husband and wife. I was looking much older by now, aged to about seventy or seventy-five. I talked with the president of the university, and we both agreed that I could retire. It was a unique concept to me, as I had never imagined I would ever have the chance. There was a party that I was obliged to go to. I had always hated parties, especially when they were about me, but I had Mary with me, so it wasn’t too bad. That night, I had a little too much to drink and decided that it was the perfect time to tell Mary the truth about me.
#
“Mary, sweetie, there’s something that you should know about me. I didn’t want to tell you in fear that you would change your mind about me.”
She smiled and grabbed my hand. “There is nothing that you can say that would make me change my mind about you. I already figured out that you must be immortal.”
I was stunned. “How?”
“You never aged from the time I graduated until I came back as a teacher.”
“Well, there are still some things you should know: mainly that, yes, I don’t age. But I’m not completely immortal. I can die by external causes. And I will age normally when in the presence of my soulmate.”
She stopped. “You’re a Soul Finder? I found an old article and wrote a paper on them for a history class. I thought you had all died off.”
“There are only two, myself and my sister, who was off in the Alpha Centauri system last time I heard from her.”
She thought for a moment. “But, darling, that would make you almost three thousand years old.”
“A little over, actually, by about a hundred years.”
“A Soul Finder . . . There are so many questions I would want to ask, if I could.”
“My dearest Mary, I’m yours. Whatever you want to ask is fair game. But we have a lifetime ahead of us. You will be the last. I feel my time draws ever closer when I’m with you.” I smiled.
#
As we celebrated our tenth anniversary, I took up writing my memoir. I wrote of my three thousand years of experience and history, of being a Soul Finder, of my siblings, and of the three loves of my long life. Mary retired a good twenty years later, just shy of her seventy-first birthday. I looked like I was pushing ninety, yet still as spry as my old body would allow. We lived another fifteen years before my body could no longer take the strain of being around Mary.
#
I knew my time was drawing near. My nearly thirty-one hundred years weighed heavily on my body. I closed my eyes as Mary held my hand. Our life together flashed before my eyes, and I felt her hand squeeze mine. It was almost as if she were saying, “Go ahead. I will follow shortly, my love.” I squeezed her hand one last time and let my hand relax. As my life left, I saw my brothers, sisters, my wives, and my children. They all seemed to be waiting for me. I looked down at my hand and saw a young hand holding on. My eyes followed the arm to see her just as I always remembered her, just as beautiful as the day we first met.
“You waited for me,” she said warmly.
“You didn’t take very long.” I smiled. “Come, let me introduce you to everyone.”