Proximity

by M. A. George

CHAPTER 13

  We all paused for a moment to wrap our heads around this bizarre realization—Emma and Eric had been searching for us, just as we had been searching for Eric. Once again, it was Sabela who found her bearings first. “How long have you been here, Emma?” she began.

  “Just over three Earth years,” came the reply. “But I’m sure you’ve realized that my name isn’t Emma.”

  The thought had occurred to me well before tonight. With my discovery that Eric was Onontian, I knew his name was surely nothing more than a pseudonym. I’d never bothered to consider what his true name might be—having never known any Onontians outside my own family, it was highly unlikely it would be familiar to me.

  As I considered this thought, Emma continued. “My name is Ewenami Omuran. My twin brother—my only sibling—is Aeron. Our father was Kenami Omuran.”

  Sabela and I both froze in stunned amazement. “Omuran” was one of only three Onontian family names I would recognize vividly. The first was my own, “Capal”. The second, “Teemo”, was my mother’s maiden name.

  But the name “Omuran” held no connection with my own genetic line—it was the name of the ruling family of Onontí.

  “You are the children of Mintar Omuran?” Sabela spoke again, reverence plainly evident in her voice. “Mintar” was the Onontian equivalent of “King”.

  I’m sure at this point Dominick was completely clueless—but he seemed to gather from Sabela’s reaction that these names held tremendous significance.

  “Forgive me, Your Grace,” Sabela continued respectfully, “but I noticed you referred to your father in the past tense.”

  Dominick’s eyebrows raised momentarily at the part about “Your Grace”, then a look of understanding crossed his face.

  “There is absolutely no need to address me with such formality,” Ewenami replied with a genuinely warm smile. Her smile faded as she continued, “But yes, you are correct. My parents were both killed just before Aeron and I were forced to flee Onontí in the rebellion.”

  “But the rebellion started well over a hundred years ago,” I interjected, inadvertently neglecting to offer any sympathy for her loss. “You said you had only arrived here three years ago. The war couldn’t possibly still be going on, could it?”

  “There was no war the first time,” Ewenami explained. “That was before my time…But according to historical accounts, Bito Obo was a deceptively alluring revolutionary, who amassed an impressive following in a very short period of time. My family was caught off guard after such a lengthy period of relative peace. Fortunately, they managed nonetheless to mount a sufficient response and contain the uprising. By the time Bito Obo had been captured and peace restored, your father had already broken off contact from Earth. He was presumed dead—although my brother has suspected otherwise.”

  “You said there wasn’t a war ‘the first time’,” I reminded her. “That implies there has been a second uprising?”

  “In retrospect, my father clearly should have put Bito Obo to death,” Ewenami continued. “But he wasn’t a vengeful man, and he worried that the people would see it as an act of tyranny. So he imprisoned Obo under tight guard instead.” Ewenami’s face told of her regret for her father’s reluctance to harm this vile man. “It appears Obo had quite a few followers still under his control. He was just biding his time for the right opportunity.”

  We listened with bated breath to the continuation of the story, as it picked up where our last knowledge of Onontí dropped off. “My brother and I were born seventy-eight Earth years ago, into a world that was once again distinguished by peace. We led a charmed royal life, with a father and mother who loved us beyond measure. Our reality changed dramatically in a single moment…the moment our parents were murdered at the hands of Bito Obo’s followers. The civil war our father had once prevented was suddenly upon us, and we were left without his guidance to confront it.”

  “I am so sorry,” I responded, this time able to express my heartfelt compassion for her tragedy. “What a terrible loss you suffered…How could you possibly pick up and lead your people at a time of such devastation?”

  “I was relatively sheltered from that burden,” Ewenami replied solemnly. “At least in comparison to my brother. The rule of Onontí—at least those who remained loyal to our family—fell to Aeron’s hands. In a way, he had dreaded the role all of his life. But when the time came, he was ready and willing to meet the challenge.”

  “Forgive me for asking, but…If the war is still going on,” Sabela began delicately, “How did the two of you end up here?” I was a bit surprised at her frankness in asking the question—I knew her intention was not to imply that they had abandoned their people. But one couldn’t help but wonder why they would be light-years away at such a time.

  “We felt we had no choice at the time,” Ewenami explained. “Evidently, Bito Obo had multiple followers who had managed to infiltrate our administration over a period of many years—some of them in positions very close to our father. There had been no reason to suspect such a deception until the attack on our parents. Some of the traitors were uncovered, but they refused to name their compatriots. It was extremely difficult to guarantee our safety, because virtually everyone was a potential suspect. There were multiple attempts on our lives, and one of them was nearly successful. At the urging of our most trusted advisor, we resorted to the only place of refuge we could find…Earth.”

  “And they followed you here?” I asked warily.

  “Not immediately,” she replied. “They didn’t have the technology. No one did…except Aeron.”

  “Why wouldn’t anyone else have a ship?” I asked. It didn’t seem possible a whole planet possessed only one space ship, having developed the capability over a century before.

  She responded, “Your father had disappeared—having declared our nearest planet to be technologically and intellectually inferior—and the conflict was resolved. Interstellar travel was deemed an unnecessary and undesirable risk. All efforts toward building another ship were abandoned. It remained that way until Aeron and I were well into adulthood.”

  “What prompted the change of plans?” I inquired.

  “Aeron,” she replied. “He somehow came across Kencane’s story and persuaded our father to allow him to begin construction of a second ship. It had been completed for several years, but our father was adamant it must not be used except in dire emergency. Little did we know how soon that emergency would come. At the time of our evacuation, we thought it was the only such ship in existence. We arrived on this planet and began searching for your father, knowing he was the only person we could trust on Earth.” Her face was somber as she continued, “But about a year ago, we received a communication from our contact on Onontí that an enemy ship was on its way. One of their spies had stolen our design drawings, and they had successfully pulled together the resources to construct a duplicate ship.”

  “How many men did they send?” I cringed as I thought of the possibilities.

  “If their ship is an exact duplicate, it is designed to carry up to eight adults,” she replied. “It can physically hold many more than that, but it would overextend the life support system on such a long journey.”

  “Eight?” Sabela gasped in alarm.

  “Our intelligence suggests they may not have sent quite that many,” Ewenami replied, her voice bleak. “We suspect they fanned out over the globe in an effort to track us down as quickly as possible. We took precautions to avoid detection, but apparently they have remarkable skills of pursuit. Our first confirmation that we had been located came when Aeron was attacked that night at the medical center. An attack it appears he wouldn’t have survived without your help, Palta…I cannot begin to express how grateful I am to you. How grateful Aeron will be when he hears of your efforts to pull him back from death’s door.” Her eyes were intensely sincere with admiration.

  “And his attacker is still here in A
lbuquerque?” Dominick chimed in.

  “We’re not certain.” She turned to address Dominick. “We are hopeful he has assumed he succeeded in ending Aeron’s life.”

  “If you knew you had been tracked down,” I probed, “why didn’t you leave Albuquerque?” It made no sense to stay here when their lives were in danger.

  “We had two important reasons,” she responded. “We had strong reasons to believe your father was somewhere in the area, and Aeron’s work at the medical center wasn’t just pretense…It is vitally important for all of us.”

  “Why?” I asked, “What is his work? And why is finding our father more important than your own safety?”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I had best let Aeron explain,” she replied. “Besides, I am very eager to tell him about this encounter.”

  We walked together out to the parking lot. I was suddenly intensely aware of our surroundings, checking over my shoulder repeatedly for any unwelcome followers. Having worked out a plan for Ewenami to bring Aeron out to our ranch as soon as possible, we watched her drive away.

  I feared for her safety—and Aeron’s as well—but she insisted on making the journey alone. She wanted to give us an opportunity to break the news to our father gently.