by Michael Kan
For them, this was a reunion of sorts. They had known each other for thirty years, but lately both had been engrossed in missions of their own.
All that had been set aside, for now at least.
I am so sorry. This is all my fault. I failed to protect her.
Arendi was grief-stricken as she timidly approached. Her face shook with each word, and she could barely look back. Alysdeon, however, tried to brush aside the younger woman’s worries. She placed her arms around Arendi, hugging her old friend.
Alysdeon held her tight, needing the embrace. But for Arendi, forgiveness was not enough.
No. I put your daughter in danger.
She let go, awash in guilt. Out of the corner of her eye, Arendi could see the dead ensign, held in stasis. It also didn’t help that Alysdeon looked almost exactly like her daughter. Thirty years had passed, and still the New Terran woman hadn’t aged a day.
Arendi reluctantly glanced at her genetically engineered friend. She was tall, and her face was ever youthful, very much like Justice’s. It forced Arendi to remember the ensign’s death. She shivered, sensing blood on her hands.
I failed miserably. Everything went wrong.
For her, it was easy to recall the carnage. An entire world had been killed in an instant, the sky set ablaze. Arendi didn’t wish to dwell on it, but with Alysdeon here, she recalled all her mistakes and wished she had done more.
Onatagias is dead and I couldn’t stop them.
Alysdeon came to her friend, hoping to provide some relief. There was perhaps none to give, but still she tried.
She raised her right hand and placed it under the light. It was covered in tiles of medical bandages, and the arm still ached.
What happened? Arendi asked.
she said, flexing her tender hand.
Three days ago, Alysdeon had also joined in the fighting. Her people, the New Terrans, had deployed ships to defend human colonies, including the planet of Haven. The fighting, however, had been fierce, and her fleet had come under heavy enemy fire while trying to protect territory over two hundred light-years away.
Damage across the craft had been severe, and the Davinity had been forced out of the action. Alysdeon massaged her arm, as the nanomachines under the bandages continued to rebuild the skin.
I’m just glad you’re safe, Arendi said. I don’t want to lose anyone else.
Arendi nodded. She had seen the assessment. Although the ensign was dead, her chances for a complete revival were measured at over 98 percent. The processing would take time, but at least the young officer would live again.
Knowing this, Arendi came to the stasis pod.
Your daughter fought valiantly, she said. You should be proud.
No, Arendi said, sighing. I don’t even know what I’m doing sometimes.
She glanced at the pod and saw the ensign. They had served together over the last year, but Arendi had known the young officer ever since she was child.
I wasn’t always sure how to act around her, Arendi admitted. She was like family to me. This young girl, now a woman. But I tried to keep things professional. Tried to teach her as much as I could.
Alysdeon placed her hand on Arendi’s shoulder, glad.
Really?
As she spoke, Alysdeon beamed with genuine affection for all that Arendi had done.
Arendi nearly scoffed. It was true she was among the elite and one of the few humans ever to achieve that status but she had never thought of it that way.
I am no one, she said, trying to ignore the praise. I’m just trying to do what’s right. If only it was so easy
She took a deep breath and walked a step closer to the pod. The dead ensign was only inches away now.
She was right, of course, and Arendi knew it. Still, she felt the sting in her chest and tried to breathe.
Justice. I miss her already, she replied, placing her hand on the pod. Slowly, she wiped away the frost from the glass. Your daughter is smart, she continued. So resourceful and always so brave. Just like her mother.
It was a remark that elicited a smile from Alysdeon. She raised her head and squinted back. For a moment, her artificially enhanced eyes flashed violet.
The four-hundred-year-old woman saluted, raising her arm across her chest. She herself was clad in a black officer’s uniform, and, despite her injury, Alysdeon was more than ready to serve.
Upon hearing the question, Arendi fell silent. Alysdeon wasn’t aware of it, but the question touched on another loss that the two friends happened to share.
Arendi uttered the name with a gasp, feeling the pain.
Julian, she said. Farcia knows what happened to Julian.
Chapter 17
Much had changed in the thirty years they had known each other. A new era had dawned and along with it, a new sense of duty.
Arendi, for instance, was no longer just an android from a distant Earth. She was one of several operatives working on behalf of the Alliance. These so-called Sentinels were few in number, but they were dispatched to face the most difficult missions and to protect the galaxy’s newfound peace. She had operated in this role for years now hunting down criminals and intervening in the occasional galactic dispute to become a decorated member in her own right.
As for Alysdeon, the four-hundred-year-old woman had borne another child. And for a time, she had even returned to her position as the Sovereign, or leader, of the Terran remnant. The Great War had scattered humanity across the galaxy, and so a new government was needed to reunite them. Alysdeon had since stepped down from that demanding, and at times taxing, role. She had instead sought to pursue matters of more historical interest and had lately been traveling the stars.
But perhaps the most personal change was a loss that had occurred twenty-one years earlier.
Both Arendi and Alysdeon had known the man well. He was a pilot named Julian Nverson a dear mutual friend. Together, the three comrades had fought the Endervars, turning the tide in the Great War.
Julian, however, was now gone. The man was presumed dead.
The mystery had lingered over the decades. An entire fleet of Alliance ships manned by three thousand veteran officers had been sent on a secret mission in the midst of another, separate, war.
Julian ha
d been among them. He and the rest of the confidential strike force had traveled to the other end of the galaxy, only to disappear.
Despite all the ongoing search efforts, their last location was still unknown. The powerful fleet had traveled far. So far that all the associated ships had been out of communication range. Any buoys left behind had reported nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, there was no evidence to explain their fate.
We’ve still found no wreckage, Arendi explained. All this time, and there’s still nothing.
Like everyone else, she had been forced to accept the loss. Admittedly, it was a change she had sought to resist. There had been no closure. No way to verify whether Julian was even dead. Only with great reluctance had she finally accepted the probable fact. That the man had been killed in action.
But now we have this, she said, accessing the data. It was a new clue, which had put everything into question.
Arendi didn’t quite know what to make of it. She shook her head, watching it generate inside her thoughts. Perhaps she was being toyed with, and it might be false hope. The incident, however, had been very real.
To illustrate her point, she displayed the memory before Alysdeon in all its detail. Arendi was no telepath. Due to her machine nature, she was incapable of organic thought. So she resorted to the next best alternative and invited Alysdeon into her artificial mind.
The result was a virtual simulation, built from Arendi’s computerized systems. It ran inside her brain, replicating the sights and sounds of the experience she wanted to relive. Via her neural implants, Alysdeon was also there, but as an avatar. Her awareness was suddenly translating into data. The woman’s consciousness fed into the simulation.
She then stepped inside the virtual space, and watched as Arendi’s memory rewinded back to the crucial moment.
Captain Julian Nverson he was your friend, was he not?
Alysdeon listened to the statement and paced around the lifelike surroundings. The virtual sand was beneath her avatar’s feet, and the sky above had begun to burn. In the midst of it all was the white-haired woman. Farcia glared back, and spoke.
Julian Nverson another one of my victims. Like all the rest.
Alysdeon had asked who Farcia was, so Arendi responded in the best way possible. Together, they were experiencing the exact moment when the white-haired woman had decided to kill the Arcenian home world of Vellanar.
Alysdeon herself was already aware of the fugitive’s exploits. Almost everyone was. Their enemy had unleashed one atrocity after another, attacking several Alliance facilities and massacring tens of thousands. In the weeks before, the news spheres had all reported on the destruction.
But none of the prior analysis could reveal how personal this conflict had become. Alysdeon saw Farcia’s menacing and intimate stare. They were nearly face-to-face.
You will know my pain, the woman had vowed. Watch this world die.
It was then that the memory paused. Time slowed to a halt, and the central figure held still. Her hair was static in the wind.
Alysdeon held her hands behind her waist and examined Farcia’s face. The tears of ash were conspicuous, and they shrouded her eyes in more gray and black.
Arendi materialized over the virtual sand in the simulation. She joined her friend and heard her thoughts. But Arendi had her own to share.
I wished I had killed her. Or at least tried, she said, tightening her fist. Then maybe none of this would have happened.
It was an unusually cold response from Arendi. During her twenty-two-year career as a Sentinel, she had never before so desired to use lethal force. When it came to organic life, it was always the last resort. She could easily incapacitate a subject, whether through physical force or other weaponry, so why escalate?
Alysdeon pulled back from Farcia. She heard the anger in Arendi’s voice and understood the sentiment. She felt it as well. The surroundings and the event itself were just a simulation, but to Alysdeon it was real. This was the moment, right before the bombardment, when over seven billion people would die.
She shuddered, thinking about the impending destruction. That too, unfortunately, had also become real. But even as the anger was there, Alysdeon tried to set aside the emotion. They were here not to hate but to understand.
Focusing, she looked back at the white-haired woman and thought back to all that she knew.
The conclusion came to Alysdeon as she gazed at Farcia’s still-frozen face. There seemed to be subtle scorn in her eyes of the white-haired woman.
It was why Alysdeon had retired from public life. Her work was now focused on understanding the age-old enemy. Although the answers were still vague and clouded in shadow, the motives of the Endervars were becoming clear.
Arendi had heard about the investigations. In recent years the Alliance had even established an entire bureau devoted to it.
The enemy may have retreated, but the fallout from its invasion could still be felt today. It was a shared experience among billions of sentient beings: to live under enemy rule and to feel its influence.
Alysdeon was among those who had been affected. The experience had been brief, but she had seen the visions.
I remember what you saw, Arendi said. It was painful, wasn’t it? Julian saw the visions as well.
The alien sensation had once been a persistent phenomenon across all worlds conquered by the enemy. Through unknown means the Endervars had sought to manipulate the thoughts of its victims.
Billions of sentient lives had seen the visions to varying degrees, although most had struggled to recall their exact meaning. Alysdeon, however, was an exception. She rubbed her arms, recollecting the agony. Due to her telepathy, she was more susceptible to it.
Thirty years had passed since that day, but the experience was still etched in her memory. Others, particularly telepaths, had reported similar sensations. That an alien force might be seeking to control them.
She had heard the plea, over and over in her mind, and still it echoed. To even recall it was draining.
True, Arendi said. The Endervars left decades ago, abandoning all their territory. I’m guessing they failed.
Alysdeon then stepped back and returned to Farcia. She gestured to the lifelike simulation and connected her own experience to the woman they now sought to find.
she said.
Arendi looked at Alysdeon and saw her concern. There was no anger, just pity. It reminded her that Farcia or the person she used to be was perhaps a victim herself.
Just a day ago Arendi had seen the picture. It was inside the locket that Red had carried. Once, Farcia had been an innocent woman.
Obviously she is a very powerful telepath, Arendi added. A rarity, among her people. A mutant, according to Red, her husband.
She pointed to the man on the desert floor. He had been simulated as well and lay on the sand, his cheeks dripping with blood.
Alysdeon came to the body and crouched down
on the sand. She delicately touched the man’s white hair and then looked back at Farcia.
Apparently, she’s dying. Farcia must have thought Red could help.
What do you mean?
Alysdeon shrugged, not entirely sure. The white-haired woman had killed her husband. That was clear. But still, Farcia had sought to speak with him. The one man who truly cared.
But for what? If she is an Endervar, then why even care?
Alysdeon said what came to mind. It was a strange thought, but the signs were evident.
They could feel it in the simulation: the approaching chaos and all its wanton cruelty. The Endervars had moved beyond subjugation to outright extermination. And with it was the cryptic statement.
Know my pain, Arendi whispered, remembering Farcia’s words.
In that regard, perhaps Alysdeon was right. So much of the destruction felt more like revenge. Even now, the Endervars continued to attack, killing the innocent.
Arendi thought further, however. She glanced at the sky and circled back to the enemy’s original motive.
You mentioned that the enemy wanted to correct our universe, she said.
Then they may have found it. Their solution to saving the universe.
The simulation ended, and Arendi accessed the other crucial data point. A new virtual landscape was now starting to appear before Alysdeon’s avatar. The surrounding desert drifted away, along with Farcia and Red. In its stead was the aftermath, a burned-out area littered with smoke and debris.