Consecutive Life

by Tony DeCarvalho

Certain events and people grab my attention. Take Bradley Heinkec, for example. He was convicted of murder in 2051. He killed his wife and three kids ... but didn't have the guts to shoot himself in the head. The judge threw the book at him, and sentenced him to five consecutive life sentences.

That didn't really grab my attention--others have done far worse. What got me was that Bradley's case was a first. I decided to investigate his story for the historical record.

.

2087--Bradley Hienkec had just turned 72. His last appeal had failed. Bradley would have to serve his entire sentence.

He must've known the machines were watching him ... but he no longer cared. Bradley was determined to escape ... dead or alive.

Bradley waited until lights out. He tied his bed sheet into a noose and slung it over the top bar of his cell door. Bradley placed the noose around his neck, and jumped off his bed.

"We've got a break out!" yelled one of the guards on duty. Lights flashed in Bradley's section of the prison. The inmates were startled out of bed.

"Bradley done killed himself! He's hanging right there!" yelled one convicted rapist.

The guards approached Bradley's cell slowly. "Careful ... he's going to try to bolt," said the head guard.

The head guard motioned for one person to stand by the cell door. Two other guards brought forward the soul-trapper device and turned it on. The machine roared to life.

Sweat dripped from the cell door guard's forehead. The others held their breath. Finally, the head guard yelled, "Open it!"

The cell door was opened. The machine let out a high-pitched hum.

"Stand back!" yelled the head guard.

The soul trapper bathed the cell with light. A shadowy shape was in that light, struggling to escape. The machine began to vibrate. A supernatural tug-of-war ensued. The inmates and guards did not move the whole time.

The soul trapper finally overcame the apparition--who sank into the top of the machine with a mournful whine.

"Thank god," said the head guard. "Let's get Bradley to the doctors."

.

The doctors poured Bradley's spirit into a shiny metallic robot body. There he would remain for 100 years ... until he experienced virtual death. Then he would be given another body. This process was to be repeated until his five life sentences were served.

.

The state of the world changed around Bradley. By 2221, there was an international coalition lobbying for the release of Bradley, and other inmates forced to live consecutive sentences. "It's inhumane," said Karl Berker, the leader of Free Spirits Now, "and it's against the laws of Dharma."

Bradley no longer cared--the anguish he felt was all-consuming. Bradley could no longer concentrate on the days of the weeks, let alone current events.

Bradley believed in reincarnation--and he longed for the transformation. "Better a cockroach than this," he thought many times over the years. The prison catalogued his thoughts, making my research more interesting.

.

One day, in the year 2345, a priest opened his cell. "Bradley Heinkec?" he asked.

"Who's that?" Bradley answered.

"That's you."

"I am not a name."

The priest walked up to Bradley, knelt before him, and said, "You're free."

Bradley looked at the priest and answered, "I can never be free."

The priest stood and said, "You have suffered an excruciating amount, Bradley. I cannot comprehend it ... and it is unfortunate that society has taken this long to see the error of its ways."

"I murdered someone ... once."

"Yes, and you have you paid your debt in full."

"So, I can go free?"

"Yes."

Bradley looked at the priest, and said. "So, set me free."

"Come with me," said the priest, "and ..."

"Set me free!" repeated Bradley.

"I ... I don't understand. You are free."

"No, I'm not. Please ... set me free!"

The priest stared at Bradley, and finally understood what Bradley meant. "Only God can help you with that, my child," answered the priest.

Bradley refused to move. Finally, the priest left.

.

Other people visited Bradley--activists, apologists, politicians, and tourists. For five years, Bradley simply sat there in his cell, unmoving and unspeaking.

.

June 21st, 2350--Bradley's body was scheduled to die in one year. I decided to pay him a visit.

"Bradley? Bradley Heinkec?"

" ... "

"Bradley, my name is Anzo. I am a historian. I have watched your plight on the screens, and I have to admit ... I'm confused."

Bradley tilted his head slightly. His eyes moved towards me, but we didn't make eye contact.

"You've been free for five years ... why do you insist on sitting here?"

"I ... should ... be ... dead."

A chill went down my spine. Bradley Heinkec spoke to me! "Well," I stumbled, "I know that ... but so what?"

"You ... don't ... understand. My cycle should be done ... I have been delayed."

"You refer to ... Nibbana?"

"Fool," answered Bradley, "my freedom has been delayed. What once would've taken 500 years, will now take an eternity."

"I don't know what to say."

"Idiot! Don't you see? Of course you don't."

" I am a historian," I answered defiantly, "I see everything!"

"Except the obvious."

"And what is that?" I asked.

"None are free ... until all are free. By imprisoning me for consecutive lives, man has condemned himself to eternal imprisonment. None will be free until I am free ... and I can never be free. My actions have ruined my fate ... and, in turn, have ruined the fate of the world."

.

Looking back, I wonder why I even cared about Bradley Heinkec, or what he had to say. Obviously, the guy was depressed. He hadn't seen sunlight in centuries. He'd been stuck in a robotic body. That would ruin anybody's spirits.

I mean, come on—Bradley couldn't possibly have known the final fate of mankind, could he?

Copyright © Tony DeCarvalho 2003