“So she needs the Protector to keep her safe, and yet she had chosen to give him the ability to kill her, essentially making herself most vulnerable to him.” Adam looked at the woman sitting beside the lake, a frown on his face. A memory rose unbidden to his mind, the split second he had shot her. He forced it away.
“I know, Son, but we do not have answers to everything. I remind you that we do not even know the origin of the Light, why She first came to be and how. All we know is that She is.”
“She trusts me.”
“Yes, She does.”
“No, I mean, back there, she had her chances, she could have gotten away from me. Told someone around us what was happening.”
“I know what you meant,” Ahir said quietly.
Adam was still watching Aelia. His way. She was calm, comfortable. Good.
His eyes narrowed suddenly, and he turned to Ahir. “How did they know?”
“I'm sorry?”
“How does the organization know? About me, about our family, about the Protectors, the Firsts and the Light? How does the organization know so much?”
Ahir was silent, but Adam wasn't about to relent.
“Grandfather.”
Now it was Ahir who started and turned toward his grandson. Adam's eyes, bluer, darker than the old man's, were intense on his.
Ahir braced himself. More than anything, this was hard to admit. “We told them.”
Adam thought he heard wrong. “Sorry, what?”
Ahir stood up. “Come, Son. I imagine Aelia has the right to hear this too.”
Adam followed him down the terrace steps. “You and Neora, you go back a long time.” In fact, it seemed that they barely needed a spoken word to understand each other.
Ahir looked at him questioningly.
“You're very familiar with each other.”
“We were both young when we assumed our responsibilities. Neora was in her early-twenties when her predecessor died and I was just a bit older when I officially became her Protector that day. I've served alongside her for, oh, almost sixty years now.” Ahir stopped and turned toward Adam, “But it is more than that, Son. She is and will until our last day be my dearest friend.” The old man nodded slightly to himself and resumed walking, and Adam followed him with a smile. Then something occurred to him.
“Wait, what happened to the previous Protector? He didn't die too, did he, before you became Protector?”
Ahir laughed. “My father? No, not at all. He passed when he was a hundred and nine.”
“So he simply retired?”
“Yes. He decided it would be best if Neora and I started our way together, and I had him to guide me for years after, so it worked out well.” He chuckled. “And don’t you worry, Adam, now that you are back, and the Light is finally here, I plan to be around for a long time. I wouldn't miss it. My guess is Neora would not, either.”
They approached the bench and Neora took her old friend's hand in greeting. Ahir saw in her face a happiness he had never seen before, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Where her predecessors’ death was the only release of their burden and unrealized hope, she had lived to see the Light return to take Her rightful place. His eyes moved to the other end of the bench, where Aelia sat, his grandson, Her Protector, now standing beside Her, his eyes unconsciously sweeping the terrain around Her even in this most secure place of all, watching out for Her without realizing he was doing so. Adam's gaze came to rest on Aelia, and Ahir smiled. The connection between them was already unmistakable.
Chapter Eighteen
Ahir sat down beside Neora. “Adam just asked me how the organization knows about the Firsts and about the two of them.”
“Ah, yes.” She sighed. “Well, no question can be left unanswered, Ahir. They have a right to know it all. In fact, they would need to know it all.”
Ahir nodded and turned to Aelia. “As I've already told Adam, the organization knows so much because the Firsts themselves told them.”
Aelia looked from him to Neora and back at him in disbelief.
“It's true. You see, decades ago, after another one of the terrible wars of this world, the Council made a decision to break the vow the Firsts made when humans first developed enough to be seriously considered. Back then, the Firsts vowed not to interfere with the development of this young species, but rather to live hidden on this planet. This vow had not changed even as humanity grew, and even as the Firsts knew they would have to live among them. But by then it was meant to protect us.”
He tried to find the words. “You need to understand, we have seen war after war, and that last great one, the last world war, what we saw in it was simply too much, and we thought it was time to try to show humanity there was a different way. A better way. And our people themselves needed this. They felt lost, the Light—” He paused and looked at Aelia, as if the realization that She was actually there hit him all over again. “You were gone for so long, and the Council worried that our people might be losing hope, starting to think that we would remain alone, and life here had become so difficult for us, we had to try to find a way, to do something. Think about it, a small species having to coexist alongside a huge one that keeps growing and spreading and fighting, so much violence, so much hate and destruction, and they simply did not learn.
“But still there were many of them who were different, who tried to do some good in this world. It was because of them, the kind ones, that we wanted to reach out to humankind. We hoped that if we managed to teach them, show them how we had chosen to live, maybe one day we would be able to truly live alongside them, and not hidden, exiled in our own home. So the Council made the decision to expose us, and the previous Keeper agreed, though the Protector, my father, did not.
“It was done so carefully, and yet it went so terribly wrong. A delegation of the Council contacted a tiny organization that had taken upon itself to bring peace to the world. We watched them for a while, and they seemed to be an honest group striving to transcend the differences between countries, religions and cultures, to bring humanity together. Unfortunately, once their governing board heard us, understood who we were, they became split in their opinions. Some welcomed us and what we brought. But others became convinced that we were a danger to humanity, that we were a threat to them for the mere reason that we are a different species. They were convinced that we were simply trying to learn all we could about them, infiltrate them. That we, the advanced ones, were bound to want the entire world for ourselves, despite the fact that we had not done anything to warrant this opinion and have never harmed humankind, never even interfered with them.” His tone turned bitter. “We were so wrong. We thought they were ready to move beyond the old thought patterns of destruction, of selfishness and greed. Patterns that defy coexistence even within the human species, let alone with a species outside it.
“So you understand, ironically it seems that it was their meeting with us that changed the organization. Before they knew about us, they were all about 'peace for the world', meaning peace for humanity of course, although we did not know this then. Their people were diplomats, negotiators. The only ones who were armed among them were bodyguards that they kept for their interventions in the more dangerous regions of the world. But after they met us, the newly-formed hawkish faction removed, if I may be so delicate, the more peaceful core of the group, and effectively took over. It then embarked on turning the organization into a militaristic operation, aimed at forcefully removing any threat to humankind.
“Unfortunately, the potential of this new organization they created seems to have made them greedy. Within a very short time their objectives evolved, no longer having anything to do with peace or with what was best for humanity, and everything to do with ultimate control. Their aim was, and still is, to become the power that runs the world, to bring the organization to the position where one day it would lead humanity. Control its fate.”
Adam’s brow furrowed. He more than anyone knew the extent of the or
ganization’s capabilities, the way it was run. But these goals . . . run the world?
“Yes,” Ahir said. “They may have become smarter in hiding their true purpose, but I remind you that we were there at the beginning, when they were still forming, deciding. When it was still easier than it is today to follow their actions. Luckily, they want to achieve their goals without encountering resistance, so they are careful to avoid outsiders knowing about their existence, and this has slowed their progress. However, our existence also stands in their way. We are the rogue element in their equation. Even without the fact that we know who those behind the organization really are and that we would never bow to their will, imagine what would happen if we decided once again it is time for humanity to know about us—now there is a world changer.” He sighed. “And so we became the enemy.”
“So it was during the talks with the original organization that they were told what they shouldn’t have?” Adam asked. There really was no other way to put it, from where he stood.
“It was a little more complicated than that,” Ahir answered. “At the beginning they really were not told much. We knew that the fact of our existence was in itself significant enough information for them to have. And we would never intentionally let them know how technologically advanced we really were, because at the time the information would have been too overwhelming. Which is lucky, imagine where they would be today with our technology and our knowledge. They were not told about our origins and history either, only enough to make them understand that our way is peace and that there is so much we can teach them.” He stopped.
It was Neora who continued. “In an attempt to explain more about who we are, our delegates tried to explain our . . . beliefs, you could say, in terms familiar to humans', in the terms of their own faiths. And so they told them a story, about a light that appeared and guided us, and its protector. And about its symbols. The two children born among the Firsts.”
“Symbols?” Aelia asked.
“Well, knowing humanity’s way of thinking and its beliefs, the Council at the time did not believe they could handle that much of the truth. All the more so if it came together with the news about an ancient species coexisting alongside them, which was already a lot to take in. So the delegates made it seem as if the Light and its Protector are just an ancient story, much like the stories underlying humanity’s religious beliefs, and that every generation two people are selected to serve as symbols of them.”
“All in all,” Ahir said, “nothing they were told should have been enough to do harm. If not for the next mistake we made. We thought that trust should begin with trust, and so we did not watch them at first, and had no idea that they had already changed, already made up their mind about us. So, in an effort to give them a better understanding of who we are, our delegates took them one step farther. While they were careful not to tell the organization anything about where the Firsts were in the world, they did tell them about the Rome center, under the cathedral, and about Aeterna.” He paused. “The delegation wanted, and the Council agreed, to show them something of ours, let them meet some Firsts. They only spoke about Aeterna, but the cathedral center they took them to. Not only that, in the spirit of cooperation our people there talked freely with them, since we, and we thought they, too, came in the hope for a long-lasting friendship.”
“How naive we were.” Neora’s sigh was deep, regretful.
Ahir put his hand on hers and continued. “They came out realizing just how much more technologically advanced we are than them, even though we thought we were careful with what we exposed them to. And this seems to have made them think, or at least enforced their already existing belief, that we are a threat. But not only that, in retrospect we understand that they must have learned from our people there just how much we await the light that we had told them was just a story, its return in the form of a woman who is identified by the man who is her protector, is protected by him, and can only be killed by him. So that even if they still did not think that our belief was based on facts, they now knew its importance to us. For humanity, their beliefs, their religions turn the world. And that is what they perceived our belief was for us. They came to understand that this was our Achilles' heel. Take this belief and the Firsts will lose what drives them. Have the organization destroy this belief, and the Firsts will fear it and bow to the humans.” He paused, let what he was saying sink in.
“It was after that visit that everything happened, and very quickly. One moment the two sides were talking, and the next half the people we had been negotiating with were dead, and the remaining half turned their backs on us, but not before they made a deal with us, a cold truce, in a manner of speaking. We would stay quiet, hidden as we were in the past, and they would leave us alone. It was more complicated than that, of course, but that is the essence of it. We decided to take a step back and reassess our failed attempt, reassess humanity and its danger to our people, some even said. There was talk of leaving Aeterna and the cathedral, but eventually we kept both. As far as Aeterna is concerned, they were told about its existence but nothing else. They have never been here, and Aeterna has always been the abode of the Keepers. A well protected, conveniently placed abode. As for the cathedral, it was part of the truce agreement and a testing point for us, for their intentions then and at any time thereafter. And they haven't approached either until now.”
Ahir took a breath. “Following that fiasco the majority of the Council was replaced, and the decision to remain apart from the humans was reinforced, with all Firsts being briefed about the attempt and cautioned to be careful about trusting the humans. Sometime later I replaced my father, and Neora replaced the Keeper. We have honored the truce, but we have also kept a careful eye on the organization over the years, saw it grow and strengthen, become so much more dangerous. But for decades they did nothing. Excluding, of course, what we are finally certain of now. Taking the two of you, and the murder of my son and his wife.” He addressed Aelia. “And we have to assume that your family was somehow their victim, too. We are looking into that,” he assured her.
Adam mulled what he'd just heard, then addressed Ahir. “Denole said something about a message that was intercepted the day you first saw Aelia.”
“Yes.” Ahir shook his head in distaste. “Wanting to show the visitors that we are willing to share our knowledge, the delegates showed them a sample of our technology, to demonstrate how we can help advance humanity. Specifically, they showed them data transmission technology. Keep in mind that this was long before humanity had the computer technology it has today, so what the visitors were shown was hugely impressive. Not only that, they were given that sample of the technology, as a gift. And that was another bad mistake, because giving away such a gift to a friend is one thing, but when that friend turns on you and targets you as its worst enemy, well . . .” He spread his hands in unhidden frustration.
“Then several years ago we discovered that the organization has kept the data transmission component we gave them, had integrated it with the humans' now advanced-enough computer technology and were using it to try to get information from our systems. However, immediately after our talks with them had failed, all those decades ago, we prudently discontinued our own use of this technology and have only kept it in a standalone system in the cathedral center, to alert us if the organization would ever attempt to misuse our gift. So all they managed to do was hack into and reconfigure the equivalent component at our end to periodically send them data, specifically messages sent to and from the cathedral center.” He shrugged. “We, of course, were alerted as soon as they made the first attempt. Considering the nature of this act and the fact that it violates the truce, we decided to learn more about what they were up to. There was obviously no danger to us, since the component cannot connect to our main systems, and we now reconfigured it to allow it to intercept some low-security messages to and from Aeterna, so that they would think their ruse was working.”
He coughed, embarrassed, and l
ooked at Aelia. “The day you came to the cathedral and I understood who you were I sent a message to Aeterna. A short message. 'I found Her, She is here.' Except that I sent it through the low-security system. The wrong system. With my authorization, it did not try to stop me.” He shook his head. “I'm sorry, both of you. It was my mistake. The cathedral center has always been so careful, so strict, and I was not even supposed to go anywhere near their systems myself, but I confess that I was in shock and I did and the most important message of all our lives was intercepted by those who had hurt you both.” He bowed his head. “I truly am sorry.”
“Why?” The question came in unison, surprising both Ahir and Neora.
“Because of that message, the organization sent me after Aelia,” Adam said, and Aelia continued, “And us meeting is what triggered it all and is how we ended up here. I doubt anything you could have done otherwise would have been this effective.”
“Benjamin died,” Ahir said.
“True,” Adam said. “But, no disrespect, only Benjamin died. And that's because everything that happened took place where Aelia was then, and not here. There, it was only me and her, and Benjamin and Semner. Without that message, even if you had somehow been successful convincing Aelia to come here, it would most likely have also brought me here when I was still on their side—the organization was watching her, they would still know that she was gone, would figure out that she came here. I still would have been sent after her. And here, I would have had to go through I don't know how many Firsts to get that first contact with Aelia, the contact that would have made me realize something was wrong. Who knows how that would have turned out.”
“So everything is as it should be.” Aelia concluded the matter.
Chapter Nineteen
Adam and Aelia remained sitting on the bench, alone. Aelia was deep in thought, and Adam could feel her worry. He remained silent. Where normally he might just go ahead and ask, with her he waited, knowing she would sense the question, that she would speak when she was ready.
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