Remeon's Destiny

by J. W. Garrett

  “Yes, ma’am. My team fully understands the significance. As you know, we have been fully trained to handle operations just like this one. Should it come down to it, each member is prepared to give his life for the success of the operation.”

  “Thank you for your dedication and service. Glad we are in agreement, Captain. Once we have further information on Stephen, pinpointing his location, I will be in direct contact with you. Understood?”

  “Affirmative, ma’am.”

  “Now, would you excuse us while we discuss Belle’s training further?”

  “Absolutely. I will take my leave. I will await further orders.”

  “Thank you.” With a quick nod, the captain left, closing the door behind him.

  “Now to the training,” Whisterly said. “We need to trace the communication between Belle and Stephen very specifically. We must pinpoint his exact location, so we can focus our resources where they are needed. In order to do this, Belle will need skill well beyond her years. With your help, standing by her side, we could target several messages precisely designed to determine his exact location.”

  “I’m with you, Mother, and I agree it can work. With Vinique and I merging our resources and entering Belle’s cerebral pathways, we can construct what is needed in only a few days’ time, then hopefully obtain a quick response, initiating the information exchange that will give us the destination for our team. Vinique, would you agree?”

  Vinique nodded her head. “Yes, I do. The sooner, the better. Let’s get started.”

  “Mother, if I may, you mentioned our resources. How are we returning Stephen home? I know it isn’t the current focus, but wasn’t that the intention? To take him back to Earth?”

  “You’re correct. It isn’t the paramount objective at this time. Assuming he survives the additional medical procedures, and I believe he will, then we will address that concern when we have more knowledge of a time frame. Currently we don’t project to have the resources for another off-world excursion for several years.”

  “Mother!” Arista exclaimed, her eyes bulging. “I thought his return had been incorporated into our plans. I know of only one other option for him returning home, and I don’t believe it has ever been successfully accomplished.”

  Whisterly walked around to the front of her desk, within arm’s reach of her daughter. “My first and frankly only concern at this time is the health and well-being of our people. Stephen’s interests must be secondary. We will deal with it as we are able. I know of what you speak, and, even though that method of transportation is dangerous, it could be considered. He also may choose to remain among us or lastly wait until we could arrange another trip to Earth.”

  Arista left her chair and stepped in closer to her mother. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it sounds cold-hearted to treat Stephen this way, as the one who ultimately will save our race.”

  Nodding her head, as if pondering agreement, Whisterly continued. “From where I stand, it is the only answer I can give at this time. You will see—when you are in charge, little one—questions of the greater good are not easily solved with a one-solution-fits-all methodology. There are sacrifices. We will all soon see that as well.”

  Lowering her head in deference, Arista then turned to Vinique.

  “Shall we begin? I think this task deserves our constant attention, until we find success.”

  “I would agree,” Vinique said, rising to leave.

  “Thank you both for your commitment and loyalty,” Whisterly said, as she moved back behind the desk and took her seat.

  “As always, it is yours,” Arista said, joining Vinique. “We will stay in touch.”

  WHISTERLY REREAD THE page in front of her for the third time, then, frustrated, closed the report. The pieces were coming together. Finally it seemed they would soon have Stephen to finish the task they had started so long ago. Once the intricate work that Arista and Vinique were involved in produced results, they would then move forward immediately. The captain had given her multiple assurances that the team was on alert and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.

  So what was this nagging feeling, lurking within, that she couldn’t identify? She closed her eyes and focused inward, assessing the council members’ whereabouts and the pulse of the people. Moments later, emerging from the trance, she found nothing far from the ordinary, only a slight distancing of a few council members. Satisfied, she resolved to check back with them again in a short time.

  Whisterly glanced at the envelope on the side of the desk then picked up the letter she had finished writing a short time ago and added number forty-nine in the corner. This installment now stowed safely away, she exhaled deeply. Even after all these years her pulse still quickened at the thought of him. At least now the truth was documented on the first set of tests performed those many years ago.

  Her focus returned to the conversation she had with her daughter only hours prior. The luxury of revelry was not an indulgence that she frequently allowed, and, when she did, protection of this specific piece of secret information was paramount. Behind a hastily built protective bubble, she allowed herself time for reflection to work through her next steps with Arista. Her daughter—what a great leader she would be someday. But, to rule effectively, she must know the full truth, very soon.

  Such a chaotic time that day was so many years ago now, and decisions had to be made quickly, under the veil of secrecy. Whisterly had been quite alone at the time, with only a few who knew the truth. What would Arista’s first thoughts be when she finds out that she has a twin? Whisterly had worked this hypothetical conversation through in her head so many times, each with an alternate ending, depending on her daughter’s responses, and had opted to keep this information carefully hidden until now.

  Whisterly winced as she remembered her despair upon learning she had given birth to twins. Her parents had hidden this fact from her and taken the second child while she had been unconscious after the surgical delivery. Eventually, she had come to understand the reasons—for the greater good—but, forgiveness of this betrayal didn’t come easily, or quickly, since both parents died soon after the births, and she would not have the opportunity to confront them face to face with the secret they had kept. Such a long time ago. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Back to the concern at hand.

  Arista would be effective in guiding the people in so many ways and possessed wisdom way beyond her years, but she needed this missing link. It would help to clarify much of the past and to illuminate the way forward as well. She must gain an understanding as to why her sibling was raised by another and protected under a cloud of secrecy. One of the last few live births, conceived outside the test tube, the twins represented genetic purity, as neither would succumb to the horrible disease currently decimating their race.

  Once given the time to assimilate the information and work through the shock, Arista would better understand the source of her mother’s drive for the past seventy-three years since Arista was born, and the recovery needs going forward. Future rulers would come from the twins’ lineage, and both had to survive for them to prosper as a race going forward. They would need each other. Time for the truth to be known, however difficult initially to ingest.

  Even disseminating the full truth would be difficult at this time, as there are pieces I still wouldn’t share, Whisterly thought. After succumbing to the disease myself so shortly after the births, decisions had to be put in motion to preserve the bloodline and to ensure the ultimate survival of our race. It was the only way. We certainly owe a significant debt to this human to be sure, given a positive outcome of a cure on the forefront. But Stephen isn’t the primary focus, and decision-making must not hinge on his ultimate well-being. She let her mind rewind even farther back in time, to a more carefree, joy-filled period, one that involved yet another human.

  Then it hit her. How could she have missed it? Maybe her daughter didn’t realize it herself, but now it was plain to her mother. Arista was in love. Ho
w could Whisterly have been so blind? The signs were all there, and she was her mother for goodness’ sake. This added an additional layer of concern. She could not allow her daughter to elevate his needs above those of the people. If Whisterly could recognize the truth, then others would as well. Thus, a weakness that could be discovered and exploited, and it must be mitigated.

  She rose, determined to approach her daughter immediately. So much was at stake. She would not rest until vital information was given to her daughter, and Arista must hear it directly from her mother. Deeply and securely buried for so long, these decisions must come to light. Well, some of them. It could be explained in a reasonable way, one that Arista would understand, given time. Afterward, when the torch passed, so to speak, it would be easier to move forward with this burden lifted. Resolute, Whisterly rose and made her way to the door, feeling better about her decision with each successive step.

  As she crossed the room, the door flew open. “What are you doing here, and who allowed you entrance?”

  “No need to worry. I let myself in. Where are those pesky guards? One just can’t keep good help these days.”

  Whisterly realized her mistake. How long had she been disconnected? She was unsure. Obviously too long. Fully focusing on her visitor, she delved into the mush of his brain waves to determine the meaning of his visit. Instinctively reaching out to her daughter simultaneously, she found her pathway blocked.

  He laughed. “Dive into me all you’d like. You know I’m just made up of circuitry and wiring—same as you, I might add. But you’ll find that you have difficulty communicating outside the dampening field that I’ve taken great care to create, just so we would have our privacy.”

  Whisterly’s concern deepened, and she retreated slowly toward her desk.

  “What do you hope to find there? Nothing can help you now,” he retorted gleefully.

  Whisterly blindly groped under the desk drawer for the button she had had installed many years ago to alert authorities if she were compromised or somehow under attack. She hoped it still functioned. Whatever ploy he had planned, she knew she had to stall. “You have gone to some trouble to make your case. Why don’t you sit down and tell me what this is all about, and we can discuss it.”

  “You know I’m not here to talk. I’m an open book. You’ve just pulled every bit of knowledge from my pathways and are analyzing it, as we speak. But it doesn’t matter. I’m just here as a bystander to enjoy the view,” he added with a sinister laugh. “Whatever happens to my form in this room, I can be regenerated. You, on the other hand, well, that’s a different story. You see, I’m just here to say good-bye.”

  Whisterly saw in his thoughts the evil plan put in motion that she was now powerless to stop, and the victory on his face was evident. She regretted her earlier lapse in judgment but knew there was one thing she could still do.

  Pulling out a red rose from his jacket, he laid it almost tenderly down in front of her on the desk.

  “A flower from Earth. Quite fitting, wouldn’t you say? Do you know how long I’ve worked to keep this thing alive, waiting patiently for this day? It wasn’t easy but worth it now, just to see the look on your face.”

  Whisterly had no words. She saw in his head the act about to happen, and she pulled from her own apparition into her disease-ridden body before the lethal injection poured through her veins. Simultaneously, with all her pent-up aggression, Whisterly exacted a final revenge as she sought out her assassin by entering his feeble brain and blasting him from her own hospital bed. Commotion ensued as beeps and bells went off, sending nurses and doctors scurrying. It was no use; his cranium had burst, spattering gray matter against the surrounding walls of his bed as well as covering those attending to him with a gory, grisly reddish paste.

  She smiled contently as the injection made its way, coursing throughout her aged, diseased limbs. Unfettered now, with the last bit of her waning energy, she sent a final message to her daughter. Love well, little one. Be patient. You will soon know the truth. I love you.

  THE INSISTENT BUZZ followed by knocking startled the small group as Belle, Vinique, and Arista looked at each other in unison.

  Her two guards entered the room, unexpected and unannounced.

  Arista turned toward the door, annoyed by the intrusion, fully immersed in her work with Belle. “Yes, what is it? We are extremely busy here,” she stated, the irritation apparent in her voice. Arista met their troubled gazes and immediately knew they had bad news. She had been so caught up with Belle that she had not stayed connected elsewhere. Her full focus had been needed here, and they were on the precipice of an incredible breakthrough.

  Behind her Vinique stifled a sob.

  Arista turned hurriedly and grabbed her hands, pressing her forehead to her own. Frustrated and unprepared, Arista felt waves of sadness and emotions as they rolled over and through her being. She accepted the full measure of hurt, sorrow, and pain coming toward her from untold sources. “Mother. She has blocked access to me. Help me, Vinique. We can break through it. I must know her thoughts. Something awful has happened.”

  Vinique pulled Arista abruptly beside her, their hands still entwined.

  “Arista, stop. Stop and center yourself. You can feel it. She’s gone,” Vinique said, as tears flowed down her cheek unabated.

  “No, no. No,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

  Belle took several steps back from the sad scene, her eyes wide with shock.

  “Where has she gone?” Belle chimed in.

  “Come here, Belle,” Vinique urged, her other hand extended.

  Belle slowly walked over to the two distraught women, effectively forming a small circle.

  Arista’s heart raced, and she struggled to keep her balance as she was overcome by grief coursing through her as if it were her very life blood, ebbing and pumping, weighing her down further with each passing second. Finally unable to take the onslaught of heartache and despair, she slid to her knees, desperate to maintain consciousness, her hands grasping her head, feeling as if it would explode.

  “Make…it…stop,” she whispered, in between gasps for breath.

  Vinique acted quickly, laying Arista softly on the ground, as the small team of concerned guards and Belle looked on. “Guard, help me get her to the couch and then send for her medical staff quickly. She will need attention right away.” Vinique knelt beside Arista and took her hand, connecting with her directly, entering her cerebral cortex. Hastily forming a message, she conveyed it as she set to work. “Rest for a time. You are much stronger than even you realize. I will handle all for the immediate time period.”

  Arista turned toward Vinique and gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head, as her eyes closed, and Vinique took over.

  Addressing first the incoming messages, she shored up Arista’s defenses, effectively blocking all extraneous communication receptors. The medical team arrived and administered medication, while Vinique continued on. Arista murmured incoherently as the group worked, then a short time later the medical team reported her respiration and heart beat were back to normal.

  As her countenance changed, she visibly relaxed.

  “The sedative is working. She will sleep through the night, if undisturbed,” the nurse imparted.

  “That’s a relief. I’ve done all I can at this point to allow her a little peace and quiet, as she assimilates and deals with this horrible truth,” Vinique added.

  “Ma’am?” one of the guards queried.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “You are the acting council head at the moment. We need to take you to a secure location.”

  “I understand. However, I’m staying put for the time being. We have important work that we must continue,” she said, searching the room for Belle, who had been momentarily forgotten. Vinique found Belle sitting quietly in a chair, hugging her knees closely to her chest. As she sat there, she slowly rocked back and forth. “Belle, dear, come here,” Vinique called.

  Dutiful
ly Belle appeared by Vinique’s side, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “We’re not finished. Do you feel able to continue without Arista for now? We only have a little more to accomplish before we are able to launch our plan.”

  Belle looked worriedly at Arista, who was calmly resting on the couch now, and glanced up at Vinique.

  Crouching down next to Belle, Vinique continued. “She is sad, but she’s okay for now. We need to let her rest. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said solemnly. “I miss my ma and pa and brother too—and that makes me very sad.”

  “That’s right, almost exactly the same. She is grieving for her mother now. But your situation is a little different. Very soon you will be back with your family. Remember? Like we discussed?”

  At that thought, Belle’s face lit up. “Yes, yes, I do,” she said, a small smile forming.

  “Shall we finish then? Once this message gets through, and we receive a response, we are all set.”

  Belle nodded her head aggressively in agreement.

  Vinique smiled in return, and then turned to the guards and the one remaining medical staff member. “Leave us now. Remain outside the room. I will reach out to you if you are needed. Belle, join me at the table, and let’s finish what we started,” she said, motioning to the middle of the room.

  “Here I am,” she said, appearing from behind Vinique, seeming to be quite herself again.

  “Excellent. Now…where were we? Oh, yes, about to make imminent contact with your brother,” Vinique said. “Let’s get back at it,” she said, glancing over at Arista, who was still peacefully resting. The time to strike is now, she thought. We are so close.

  ARISTA LET HERSELF fall deeper and deeper into her subconscious mind, passing through level after level of brain wave activity until she felt she had hit bottom, where she could explore her most personal thoughts. “Mother, Mother? Are you here? Please tell me that I haven’t lost all of you forever. Speak to me, please!”