Remeon's Destiny

by J. W. Garrett

  It has only been a week, James thought, as he surveyed his field. Harvest time was upon him, and he knew he would need to hire day-workers to help bring it in. Crops were withering on the vine, but that paled in comparison to thoughts of losing his son. He found this too painful to share with Elizabeth. They shared so much—their easy everyday love and companionship, their children, their love of God and family. But if they talked of Thomas in the past tense, that would make this loss real. Each knew in their heart that, with every passing day, the possibility of finding Thomas became much more remote, but somehow this still seemed easier to bear individually. He was ashamed to admit out loud that he was reaching the limit of what he could bear, and taking on his wife’s grief in addition to his own felt completely overwhelming. His faith was shaken as he stood in the field surrounded by rows and rows of unharvested crops. All the same, he offered up a brief prayer.

  “God, we’re lost without Thomas, and Belle is a silent shell of the little girl she was a week ago. Be with our family; give us strength, bring Thomas back home, and wake our Belle again.” James brushed away tears from his cheeks, but they continued to flow unchecked. He was beyond the point of caring, and walking to the edge of his crops, he sat, letting his mind think back to a time that included his son, a time where his vision of the future was more certain and his family whole.

  “Pa?”

  “Yes, son.”

  “Do you think we’ll ever be done with this harvest? There is still so much to do.”

  “Absolutely we will. You see all the workers in the field with us?” Pa asked, pointing. “They each have a section to gather, as do you and I, and together we will finish ahead of schedule.”

  “I remember what you said, Pa, but there still seems like a lot of ground left to cover.”

  “You’ll be thirteen soon, and we’ll be talking more and more about the plans for the growing season, from planting all the way to harvest. This will make more sense to you when you can see it totally laid out. You’ve been involved in parts of the process all your life, but now you need to see the big picture, and then it will fall into place. Understand?”

  “Pa?”

  “Yes?”

  “You do a lot of planning and estimating and bargaining and figurin’ and all sorts of stuff that’s not actually planting, watering, and harvesting. It is a lot of time and lots of work. Do you ever wonder if it’s worth it? All the time and effort?”

  “No. No, I don’t. I know it’s all worth it when our family has fresh supplies of food in the summer and fall, and stores put up for winter, and bushels to take to market and sell, so we can turn a profit, which turns into seed and new crops for next year.”

  “Wow, Pa, I’m not sure I see all that you see. I just see a field with work that needs to be done.”

  “Ah, there is that. But you will, son. You have had all the steps necessary to prepare you. All the groundwork has been laid. You will be successful, as my father before me was and as we are. You’ll see.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, Pa. That’s good enough for me.”

  James replayed the scene in his head from so long ago now, lost in the past, and was comforted by the echo of his son’s words.

  The soft crunch of footsteps pulled James from his revelry. He turned around to see Elizabeth, standing several yards away with food in hand. His lovely wife, his heart melted at the sight of her. As he looked at her, he could see the lines of grief and pain engraved in her forehead and carried in her stature. He pulled himself free from his self-pity and crossed the short distance, pulling her into his arms. The food forgotten, he heard her catch her breath and stifle a sob, and soon they were both engulfed in their sorrow that had been pent up for so long. They fell to the ground, crying and rocking back and forth, each participating in the other’s pain. They lost track of time, and, when they eventually pulled apart, they rested their foreheads together, momentarily spent. He took her face in his hands, brushing away her tears, and they flowed anew. The kiss seemed their first in ages. They tenderly caressed lips, feeling the fragile state of one another.

  “I love you, Elizabeth, more than life itself,” James said. “We’ll come out on the other side of this, I swear to you, and with our family intact.”

  Elizabeth searched his face. “I’ve always believed that to be true. You’re my rock,” she said, clinging to him. “I need to know you’re still with me.”

  “Always.” He grasped her shoulders and enveloped her in a warm embrace. “It’s been a long time,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she acquiesced, tears still falling.

  Then, still clutching one another, they desperately shared their love and their burden.

  “MOTHER, I FEAR that something awful has happened.”

  Whisterly nodded her head in agreement. “I feel it too, and the feeling is growing stronger as each minute passes. We are convening in just over an hour. We must speak with the young girl. She will be coming out of her rejuvenation cycle and will be afraid. She will not understand what has happened, and it could take a very long time for all the implications to sink in. I’ll not tell her all, and I think it best to go alone, so she is less startled. Will you speak with Vinique before the full council meets?”

  “Absolutely, but are you sure you don’t want my help with the girl?” Arista asked, “I’m a little closer in age. She might find me a bit easier to relate to.”

  “Under the circumstances, I’d rather have you free to oversee the council. This won’t take long, but, if I get detained, you all may begin—you in my stead—and Vinique, among others, will back you completely. It is only right I tend to this innocent bystander. She will be going through what her brother went through not long ago. I do want to lessen her fear and confusion, if possible, and shelter her from those who would use her, even though that might prove unsuccessful. Soon all will know our secret. Before that time we must be prepared to act.”

  Arista stood directly in front of her mother, forcibly gaining her attention. “These are the tough times you have been preparing me for. I’m ready.”

  Whisterly brought her hand to her daughter’s cheek. “You’re right. You are,” she said, taking a deep breath before she continued. “Since time is of the essence, I must say I fear the worse for Riam. Let us walk while we finish our discussion. I should be there when the girl wakes.”

  “Very well, Mother. I will summon Vinique, and we will visit Riam’s bedside before the meeting. He still has not replied to your call from a few hours ago, I take it?”

  “No, he would have answered by this time if he were able,” Whisterly replied, turning and nodding to the guards on either side of the door to step aside.

  “This is where I leave you then, for the moment. I’m a quick summons away should you need anything,” Arista said, reaching for her mother’s forehead in parting. Arista felt a calmness permeate through her veins. Then her mother was gone.

  WHISTERLY TAPPED A code into the console; the door opened. She stepped into the dark room, and heard the door shut and seal behind her. Good, she thought. Just as I’d hoped, she is still in the nighttime rejuvenation cycle. Still time to bring her peacefully out. Whisterly worked deftly, ending the interval, and quickly stowed the equipment in the bedside cabinet. All levels were normal. Her projection was proceeding per plan. Only moments passed before she heard the girl stir.

  “Ma…? Ma?”

  Whisterly reached over and gently touched Belle’s hand, then encircled it with her own. “Hello there,” she said softly. “Take your time. You’ll feel a little different at first.”

  Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Belle turned sharply and pulled herself from her groggy state, pulling back her hand. “You are not my mother,” she said.

  “Yes, you are correct. I am not. I will not hurt you. You are safe. And I have information I must give you,” she said in a soft reassuring tone. “You will need to be brave, just like your brother.”

  Belle perked up at these words,
her eyes glassy. Through short gasps of crying, she asked, “You know my brother? Where am I?”

  Whisterly took the child’s hands into her own once again, reassuring Belle. “I do, indeed. Quite well. Before I answer your questions, let’s get some food in your system, shall we? You’ll feel better if you eat a little something. I promise.” Whisterly handed her a square of the cool nourishment that would keep the projection performing within peak parameters, according to each subject’s needs. “This doesn’t look very appetizing, I’m sure, but it will help you feel better.”

  Belle took it from Whisterly questioningly and, after turning it over in her hand a few times, took a tentative bite. She looked up and received an encouraging nod, then took another and another, plus several more consecutive bites, finishing her portion.

  “I guess I was hungry.”

  “Indeed!” Whisterly smiled in return. “How do you feel, little one?”

  “I feel strange but all right.”

  “Good, very good. Now, let me begin then by telling you my name. I am Whisterly, and I am the one who runs things here. What do you remember about your journey?”

  Whisterly watched the child’s face as she searched her memory, and Whisterly imagined the painful events the child must have endured while her face contorted in apparent confusion, or was it fear?

  “Where am I?” Belle asked again, this time more insistent and her tone more frightened. “And where is my brother?”

  “You are safe,” Whisterly said, sidestepping the first question, “and we believe your brother is too. That ship that took your brother away, they wanted him badly, and they need him. They will take care of him.”

  “Why did they take him and scare all those people? And when can I go home and see my ma and pa?” Belle asked between gulping breaths.

  “I’m sure that was very frightening for you.” Whisterly paused. “But we know your brother is very special and important to them, so they won’t want to harm him. And I am hopeful you will return home very soon,” Whisterly lied, actually having no idea when they would release her form back on Earth. Meeting minds with the child, Whisterly bestowed a calmness that permeated through her small being. “Do you feel that? That is me communicating with you, without words. It is easy. Would you like to try?”

  “I…I don’t know how,” Belle stuttered.

  “Focus on me. Think the words you want to say. That’s all there is to it.”

  Belle closed her eyes tightly, as if anticipating a surprise, then communicated her thought to Whisterly. I want to go home.

  “Ah, I got it. You want to go home. See? Very easy and we are working on that as I mentioned. Meanwhile, you can possibly help, by talking to your brother as you just reached out to me. Tell him simply that you are safe, then see if you feel a reply. All right, give it a try now.”

  Belle closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on sending the message as she was instructed. “I have done what you asked. Now can I go home?”

  “Very soon I hope, little one, very soon. While you wait to return home, I’ve found someone to show you around. Sera, come in now please,” Whisterly said, as she turned her attention toward the door.

  A young girl with blue eyes and straight auburn hair appeared, and smiled in welcome, her long sparkling gray gown trailing behind her.

  Belle stared in awe.

  “Sera will show you around for a little while. Tell her if you need anything. I will meet you both later. Will that be okay?”

  Belle looked back and forth tentatively between the two women, not sure what to say, then communicated with Whisterly telepathically.

  Yes, all right, she thought.

  “Very good. You are, indeed, a quick learner.” Whisterly closed her eyes and imparted a few final instructions to Sera.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sera replied.

  “I must depart for now, but Sera will take care of your every need. I will see you soon. So glad you are visiting with us for a time.” On Whisterly’s way out, she paused beside the door and responded to her daughter’s urgent plea. “I hear you, Arista. I’m on my way. Meet me in the council antechambers. Bring Vinique, and we will discuss this latest development.”

  THOMAS PACED BACK and forth in his cell. He now knew every cool, damp inch of his slimy cave. The drugs had less and less effect on his consciousness, and the torture visits to the “doctor” had significantly declined. Now that it seems they’re almost done with me, what’s next? Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he contemplated his sister and how she must be feeling. His chest felt tight and his knees weak, as his next step stumbled. What is wrong with me? Another lingering effect of the drugs maybe? No. No, this feels different. I am clearheaded. He leaned against a wall for support, then, giving up, he slid to the ground. He felt bile rise in his throat as he struggled to retain his composure. I can’t believe the path I’ve lead us to. Me and my sister both captured. All my fault. Running his hands back and forth through his hair, he tried to come up with a plan. I’ve gotta get outta here. I must get my sister and take her home, and I can begin with taking that gun from Simon. The next time he comes back… Intricate plans formed and helped pass the time.

  Determination and a focused goal eased the monotony of boring days and endless nights that didn’t lend themselves easily to sleep. Nameless individuals brought and took away food, and cleaned him up from time to time but wouldn’t engage, regardless of his repeated attempts. “You! Yeah, you! Let me out!” They came in pairs now, confirming Thomas’s belief that he was no longer drugged. Weapons were part of their attire, so now Thomas contemplated just how to strategically disable one and take on the other.

  Thomas was sure they didn’t believe he posed any real threat. After all, he was officially handicapped. He didn’t consider himself so and could feel the strength in his legs returning, even if he still needed the aid of braces. To pass the time, he kept moving and tracked the days as best he could. Using small rocks, he scratched lines on the wall based on his meal schedule to roughly map out days. Each “day” a new line adorned the wall, and, by calculating up and down and across, he kept count of his length of captivity.

  Early one morning he heard the door squeak open. It was time. Now was his chance. He knew he was ready. In walked the two guards. Thomas already had his hand on the brace he had removed, and, as his breaths quickened and his heart raced, he waited a few seconds longer until they came closer, in hopes of the blow having a greater impact. Just a few more steps… The cave was still engulfed in darkness, but he knew he didn’t have long until they shone the light in his face, as they had with each encounter. Now was the time!

  Thomas garnered all his pent-up energy and strength, then threw the brace hard, and, as he heard the first guard groan and fall, he confirmed he had met his mark. Even with his other leg still braced for support, he grabbed the stray device from where it had landed and lunged for the remaining guard, pounding him hard, alternating one blow with his fist and another with the brace in back-to-back succession.

  He felt energized and alive as he unleashed weeks of frustration onto his opponent. Over and over again he hit him, and the longer Thomas fought, the more invigorated he felt. Finally, feeling no more struggle from the man in his grasp, he let go, and the guard dropped with a thud. Thomas smiled as he reached for his prize, the weapon at his side.

  In the next instant, a flashing light filled the room, and Thomas realized he had waited too long. He was blinded by the brightness directed into his eyes, and his head began to hurt, at first a slow dull pain, which then quickly escalated to a throbbing, immobilizing pressure. His knees buckled underneath him. The pain intensified, and he grabbed his head, only wanting the pounding to stop. But it became even more intense, and he doubled over in agony, vomiting the contents of his stomach onto the ground, only inches now from his face. Convulsing still and crawling away from an as-yet-unseen enemy, his thoughts were of certain death, surely coming within minutes.

  “Thomas!”
<
br />   Thomas was now completely immobilized and unable to resist; he turned his head toward the voice coming from the faceless adversary. “Thomas, you will do my bidding. You will yield to me, and the pain will stop.”

  Yes, I will yield to you, Thomas heard himself speak inside his head. Who was that answering? Was that me? His breaths came in shallow panting spasms now from the intense pain, but, still pinned, he was only able to move his eyes around the now well-lit cave in search of his assailant.

  “You reach out for me, and I appear.”

  Thomas saw Simon broach the doorway, and followed his steps as Simon approached, one agonizing step at a time. The closer he got, the stronger the pain became yet again.

  A broad smile covered Simon’s face, and he said, “You feel that, right? From here it’s not as bad.” Simon demonstrated, sauntering back to the door opening. “But let me move, say, here, close to your face, where I can practically hear your heart beating, and it’s almost unbearable, I’ll bet.”

  Thomas felt as if his heart were about to burst from his chest.

  Then Simon walked slowly in the opposite direction.

  “You see, we’re linked, you and me. I’m sure you feel it too. Your name, it’s penned on my heart, and you are mine! It was your own doing. Don’t you remember?”

  The pain decreased slightly, and Thomas could almost take a normal breath again. With remnants of the aching pain still throbbing throughout his body, Thomas was just beginning to understand the enormity of the bond that had already been fully forged. A small group of medical personnel arrived and moved in to assist the two wounded guards, who, although injured and bleeding, could still leave under their own power.

  “What is it you still want from me?” Thomas said, wiping sweat from his face. “You’ve taken all you need. Your doctors are already closer than ever to a cure. You said so yourself.”