by M. D. Hall
Zaran looked directly at him, and replied. ‘I completely agree with you, don’t become involved.’
This was not the answer Gorn expected. ‘Now that the box has been opened, I have to look inside. My mother knew that, you know that.’
‘Again, I have to agree with you.’
‘What about this friend who might contact me?’
‘I can help you there. The person is Narol, she has been involved in, let’s say perilous matters, for many years. The two of them have known each other for a long time, but I didn’t begin to guess she had involved your mother.’
‘Do you think I should meet this, Narol?’
‘I’ve already arranged a meeting, later this morning,’ Gorn raised his eyebrows, as Zaran added. ‘If I cancel, Narol will find a way to meet with you. I would rather be present during that meeting, and it will be the perfect opportunity for you to say you don’t want to know anything or be involved.’
What his father had just told him stunned Gorn into silence. For Zaran to be this afraid of what his son was about to be drawn into, meant that his mother was not exaggerating.
‘But that isn’t what you want, is it? You need to know everything, and the only person who can tell you, is Narol. I don't know much about what’s happening, but I can tell you there’s a group that’s existed in secret, for generations. Their sole aim is to change our society by stopping us from doing what makes us who we are.’
Gorn pondered this for a few moments. How much did his father know? He decided to test his knowledge; the more he knew before he met this Narol, the more comfortable he would feel, and he felt sure his father would be able to answer two questions. ‘What do you mean, stopping us? Stopping us from doing what?’
Zaran answered without hesitation. ‘They want us to withdraw from space beyond our colonies, and give back our dominions to the races we subjugated, those who still survive, that is.’
‘Subjugated? I don’t understand.’ Of course, he did understand, he understood all too well. All of the half explanations he had received with hints of danger, risk and determining the future of his people, more than suggested their society was unwell. If it was beyond reproach, there would have been no need for action. Where was the need to fix something which was unbroken?
His question went unanswered, his father knew him too well.
If Gorn's supposition was right, then the consequences were momentous; his second question went unasked, it was now otiose.
His father got up. ‘I need to rest. Since your mother’s death, my world has been turned upside down.’ This tiredness thing is becoming contagious, Gorn thought.
Before his father had walked more than a few paces, Gorn asked. ‘I thought you were against the military and all it stood for?’
Zaran turned, wearily, back to his son. ‘No, I was against joining the military, because it wasn’t for me, there was nothing more to it than that. Unfortunately, your grandfather, your mother’s father, didn't see it that way.’
He went into the house, leaving his son alone with his thoughts.
Gorn awoke with a start, still in his chair. Sitting opposite him was his father, looking rather more refreshed than when they parted, and beside him, a woman.
‘Gorn, this is Narol, my sister…your aunt.’
Ω
The facial similarities between brother and sister were striking. Yet, where his father was very tall and broad, his aunt appeared to be just above average height, and very slim. While his father was handsome, his aunt was attractive, rather than pretty.
The woman spoke. ‘You have a look of your mother,’ she paused, as though appraising him, before adding. ‘I believe you have some questions to put to me?’
Her voice reminded him of his head teacher, before he joined the Academy, authority tinged with kindness, was how he remembered it. She doesn’t waste time on pleasantries, he thought. Where would he start, and how much of what his mother had told him did she know?
‘How does my mother know you, and why am I seeing you now?’
‘Before I answer those questions, perhaps I should ask one of my own. Why should I risk my life, and the lives of others I hold dear, by telling you?’
She shouldn’t, he thought. Looking at his father, it occurred to him that if he wanted to walk away from the whole business, this was his best, probably his only chance, but then his questions would remain unanswered. If he pursued the answers it would be too late to withdraw, and that was where his problem lay, because he needed to know, what would I be withdrawing from?
‘I can't answer that question,’ he replied. ‘So far, I’ve been told next to nothing. What I can tell you, is that I didn’t ask to be involved in whatever it is you have going on. I can’t expect you to answer my questions, just as you have no right to ask me to prove myself. If I leave, you don’t have to take any risks, and I won't have to give you any assurances.’ As he stood, he added. ‘Perhaps we can meet on holidays?’
Narol waved him back down, and looked hard at him for a little while. ‘That was well said, Nephew. You're right, I shouldn’t ask you to prove yourself to me, but I will answer your questions. Whether or not you believe what I’m about to tell you, I insist on only one thing: you must swear that nothing you hear is repeated abroad. If you can’t do that, then our meeting is at an end.’
‘I swear.’
‘Then we are in agreement,’ she replied.
Narol looked at her brother, as if expecting him to object, but he was impassive. The only indicator that she might have been surprised by his lack of reaction, was a minute raising of her right eyebrow, something Gorn failed to notice. Returning her attention to her nephew, she continued. ‘When I was younger than you, I was made aware of the true nature of our race’s galactic incursions. For thousands of years, beginning soon after we discovered the secrets of interstellar travel, we have plundered civilised worlds and, in almost every case, committed genocide.
‘Initially, objections were voiced by some of the most influential men and women on Te’ath, but when the Supreme Council considered the material benefits of this expansion, steps were taken to silence the dissent. In time, we found it easier to continue on our violent way than to step off the path, and take a more arduous but, ultimately, more worthy route. I know of some within the Council who initially argued against us being little more than parasites, taking land that wasn’t ours. Most, eventually succumbed to the wealth and power that came with conquest. The few who persisted in their objections didn’t survive into old age.
‘When it became clear that no outward show of resistance could prevail, the voices on the Council became as one. But that single voice didn’t reflect the thoughts of every member. For many years, and uncounted generations, a constantly refreshed minority have retained the knowledge of our history, and waited.’
‘Waited for what?’ Gorn asked.
Narol seemed to ignore the question. ‘Outside the Council, most people forgot about the poisonous source of their good fortune, and replaced the reality of what was happening with a cleaner, more palatable alternative. Yet, within our society a movement grew which was set against what we Te’ans, were doing. Of necessity, it had to remain small; familial links protected the network. By the time a new member was inducted, the group knew everything there was to know about him, or her. For this reason, outsiders were never admitted. It was simply too dangerous, and so you will understand how unique it was for your mother - whose family had no links to us - to be accepted.
‘The two of us had been close friends for a while, even before she formed a relationship with your father. It was only when she was forced to break ties with him, that she began to question, on a personal level, the rules of a society that would keep two young people apart. Initially, she was reacting as any young woman might in those circumstances, but her personal unhappiness caused her to ask more searching questions, eventually leading to something more profound.
‘At that time, my involvement in the group w
as becoming deeper. I had been groomed throughout my life, while your father excluded himself because of his rebellious nature,’ she looked, not unkindly, at Zaran. ‘You always made your choices on the basis of what was best for you, and that didn’t sit well with the group.’
‘I often wondered why they allowed me to get out,’ her brother replied.
Once again, Narol did not respond.
She turned back to Gorn. ‘In my naiveté, I used to think they were unaware that I confided in your mother, but the group knew my every move, just as they know I’m here with you now.’
He instinctively looked around, as though expecting to see someone peering at them from behind a tree. His aunt laughed, softly. ‘Yes, they’re watching, but they wouldn't be very good at it, if you could see them. Remember, they’ve had almost three thousand years to develop surveillance skills.’
Still uneasy, he sat back in his chair.
‘As I became a more fully committed member of the group, your mother remained my confidant. In time, while you were still at school, I pledged her loyalty, and she joined us. I thought it was my words that swayed them, but they had thoroughly checked her out before I approached them, and it was only later I discovered why they permitted an outsider to join,’ her demeanour darkened briefly, ‘I had no idea the danger I was exposing her to. You see Gorn, the group is merciless when it comes to self-preservation. If they had not been absolutely sure of her value, they would have had no hesitation in killing her, to protect themselves,’ she paused again, no doubt to gauge his reaction.
‘I can see it from their perspective,’ he volunteered. ‘All they’ve worked towards couldn’t be sacrificed for the sake of one life. If, as you say, they believe our future must be changed, and only they can achieve that, it isn’t only their lives they’re concerned about, but the lives of us all, and those of our descendants. No, I understand their reasoning completely.’
His thoughts on whether he condoned that reasoning, he kept to himself.
‘We clearly made the right choice…’
‘And my mother?’ Gorn reminded her.
‘She became a leading member of the group, and when she came into her vast inheritance, she committed substantial sums to our cause.’
He interrupted. ‘Pardon me, but what precisely has your group accomplished in three thousand years?’
She seemed to welcome the intrusion, as her mood lifted. ‘To be blunt, absolutely nothing.’
‘But…’
‘We have set in place an infrastructure so complex, it penetrates every sector of the military, and every influential government department,’ she could tell what he was thinking. ‘So if we have such power and influence, why don't we use it to change the system from within?’
‘Yes?’
‘Because, we would fail. We can influence, but not change. Almost two and a half billion people enjoy the spoils of war, and are used to consuming resources on an increasingly unprecedented level. That doesn’t stop overnight, unless something extraordinary happens…’
‘By resources, you mean land?’
‘Of course I mean land, we have sufficient mineral reserves for millions of years, but as long as we require the freedom of space, there will be a constant demand for new conquests. Imagine how difficult it would be to stop that; it would need to be something momentous. Now, if I may continue?’
Gorn nodded, unabashed.
‘In the long years since its inception, the group has not performed a single rebellious act, preferring to lay the foundations for a single intervention. Nevertheless, the Agency is convinced of our existence. Not as a result of anything tangible, but because it’s in the nature of such organisations to imagine threats, whether or not they actually exist. We have sown seeds of misinformation, but their paranoia has persisted…’
‘But it’s not paranoia if it’s true.’ Gorn pointed out.
‘I would agree, except that they base their suspicions on a complete lack of evidence. If we were merely an imaginary figment they would be convinced that we were not, they need us to exist. Which is why, short of a devastating blow, we can't undertake any overt action. They are constantly at a state of heightened alert, anything slightly suspicious would galvanise them. Had we acted in some small way to inconvenience the military, the action would have been discovered, providing proof of our existence. This would have guaranteed reprisals. By now, every member would have been rooted out, and the movement would have ceased to exist. For this reason, it was decided, long ago that the resources of the group would be used in one telling, definitive action, to put an end to our bloodthirsty expansion. The time for that action has now arrived, which leads me to answer my own question, why you?’
‘And why my mother was permitted to join you?’
‘I may as well answer that question first,’ answered Narol. ‘The reason the group welcomed your mother, was you! From an early age, when you made it known that your most fervent desire was to join the military, you attracted our attention. Your abilities were unprecedented, added to which you were not the stuff of which soldiers are usually made…you look surprised?’
‘How early an age?’ Gorn asked.
‘You were looked at, seriously, from the age of six. Your resoluteness in pursuing your own goals rather than those set for you by your mother, and later your tutors showed us a spark of something, greater.’
‘You picked me because I wouldn’t do as I was told?’
‘No, it was merely an ingredient, the ability to think for yourself. I later discovered that the potential of your mind alone, was enough to start a monitoring process.’
‘I don’t accept that what you’ve told me is the only reason we’re speaking now,’ he countered.
‘And you’d be right. It’s because you’re uniquely placed to help us. We foresaw the first opportunity, in three millennia to achieve our goal…’
‘What makes you think I won’t betray you? My word could mean nothing. You say you’ve monitored me, and you know the way my mind works, yet you’re asking me to ignore everything I believe. Surely you realise what the easiest course is for me?’
‘I can’t discount the possibility of you betraying us to a military, that isn’t all you believed it to be, but it’s no more than a mathematical possibility. We also know what kind of young man you are. I’ve watched you for years, I know you and I know you can be trusted, even if you don’t accept everything I’m about to tell you. It was our intention you join the Navy, and we saw to it that nothing would stand in your way. When Bakir, by his actions, threatened to undo all our plans, your mother ensured he would fail, by taking her own life,’ she looked at the young man seated opposite, searching his face for a reaction. ‘Evidently, this hasn’t come as a surprise, Cyrar told you?’
‘Yes.’
‘What else did she say?’
‘If you're worried that she told me about you, she didn’t.’
‘I'm not concerned about that,’ Narol replied.
‘She told me nothing other than why she killed herself,’ he lied.
Narol said nothing, but looked over to his father.
Zaran’s face was no longer drawn. Instead, he had the resolute demeanour of a man who had resolved all his conflicts. Gorn tried, unsuccessfully, to imagine what his father was thinking. He wondered whether Zaran’s silence indicated prior ignorance of all they were now hearing, or had he learned of this last night when he played his galet? Either way, it said much for his strength that he showed no emotion.
For his part, Zaran would do nothing to influence his son’s decision. If asked, he would not voice an opinion; knowing what choice his son would make, he had already set his own plans in motion. For reasons beyond his control, he was prevented from being the father he wanted to be. Now at least, he would be present to support his son, at this most dangerous of crossroads.
‘Do you have anything to add, Zaran?’
‘Not, for the moment.’
Having allowed Gorn a little
time to ponder what she had said, Narol returned her attention to him. ‘You must understand what it took for Cyrar to act as she did. She knew that our people are better than their leaders allow them to be, and wanted you to be part of a better world. In time, you would become aware of the lies disseminated to cover up our crimes, and she couldn’t bear the thought of what the realisation would do to you. Your mother knew you better than anyone, and it was she who suggested you. Soon, I will tell you what your role is to be, but for now I need you to indulge me, while I explain where we find ourselves as a people.’
The young man fought his impatience, and looked at his father who nodded, slightly. In turn, Gorn inclined his head towards his aunt in obeisance.
Narol began her story. ‘Years ago, we opened hostilities against a race of whom we knew nothing, the Balg. Much to our surprise we ground to a stop, without inflicting a single loss upon the enemy. Hostilities simply ceased, but by every measure our military applies, we lost.’
If my mother told her everything, she wouldn’t need to tell me this. Is she testing me? Let’s see. ‘This was the war that effectively ended at Gallsor, when we turned a hopeless situation to our advantage,’ he watched to see how she reacted…nothing. Maybe she doesn’t know that Jaron put paid to the delusion some years earlier, or that I know Jaron and Bakir were involved. This made perfect sense to Gorn, he was about to hear things that would put him in danger. Surely, she wouldn’t want Narol, or any of these mysterious others to think Ciarra and Genir had any idea of what was going on at Gallsor. She wouldn’t place them in danger, would she? Any suggestion he was wrong about his mother would ensure he could not be a party to anything involving her or Narol or their friends. He wanted to believe she would not place their friends at risk, but he had only just begun to learn about the real Cyrar. She was prepared to sacrifice her youngest son, so perhaps she would sacrifice others. He was prevented from considering it further as Narol had started speaking again. He would just have to watch out for signals.