by Lee Stephen
“We have him sedated,” the medic said. “We will stay here for the night to monitor him. It is best if we are left alone.”
Scott felt a tinge of remorse. He didn’t want to leave. Perhaps there was another reason for his compassion that went beyond Sergei Steklov. Perhaps he simply cared.
Tauthin hadn’t asked to be born a Bakma. Maybe he hadn’t asked for this war. Maybe he’s just a soldier—like we all are.
The thoughts were out of character for him, but they felt pure. The realization hit him that Nicole would have been proud.
“Come,” Petrov said, escorting Scott out. “I will stay for a while to make sure everything is good, and to explain if anyone arrives to ask questions. We just passed through the halls with a captive. General Thoor will eventually know.” They walked out into the hall. “You should go rest. You have had long enough day as it is. We will talk about necrilids some other time.”
As Scott left Confinement, he stared at the other captives in the cells. It was the first time he could ever remember seeing genuine curiosity on their faces. None of them were shouting or bore threatening expressions. They all just stared at the scene.
“I will see you again soon?” Petrov asked.
Scott had no choice but to visit again. “Soon enough.”
“I look forward to it,” the scientist said, waving. The two men parted ways.
Scott returned to his quarters alone as the full day’s events settled in his mind. The day felt like several combined. He could scarcely believe he’d been in Chernobyl earlier that afternoon. Or that that morning, Clarke had still been alive.
When he finally shut the door to his quarters and turned the lights off for good, it took no effort at all to fall asleep. Rest came like a welcomed friend.
22
Tuesday, November 15, 0011 NE
Midnight
Novosibirsk, Russia
A knock at her door caused Judge Carol June to stir beneath her bedcovers. Inside her private Novosibirsk suite, awakened from the darkness of solitary slumber, she squinted through tired eyes.
Reaching to her nightstand, her fingers felt until they found the outline of her clock. She looked at the time. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and groaned.
Another knock came. Outside, Judge Blake’s voice spoke firmly. “Carol, it’s me.”
With a weary sigh, the auburn-haired woman threw back the covers. Lifting a hand to her forehead, she ran wrinkled fingers through her hair.
“Carol?”
“Yes!” she spat from the darkness. “Yes, I’m coming.” Easing herself to an upright position, she groaned and placed her feet into the slippers at her bedside. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”
As she donned a robe, she could see Blake’s feet beneath her door. She made no attempt to put on makeup or brush her hair. When she opened the door, Blake stood alone in the hallway, dressed in full judge’s garb. The Briton stared down at the shorter woman.
“Please tell me this is some kind of advance,” she said in frustration, “because if you woke me up at midnight to talk business, I’ll be sorely disappointed—”
“We need to talk.”
June blinked.
“Meet me outside. South of the barracks. It’ll be cold.” As he walked away, he added, “I’ll wait for ten minutes.”
It took all of June’s ten allotted minutes to get properly dressed for the cold, from her thick judge’s garments to her earmuffs and gloves. Nothing was left to chance in the snow.
As she made her way outside into the Russian night, her body shivered uncontrollably. Teeth chattering, she crossed her arms tightly beneath her breasts and looked up at the moon. Its glow was barely visible beneath a thick layer of clouds. Snow was falling steadily.
In the distance, Judge Blake stood alone in a field several dozen meters away from the barracks. His hands were sheltered in his pockets. Even as she approached him, trudging through the snow that crunched underfoot, not once did he turn.
When she finally came upon him, she spoke. Ice vapors formed in front of her face. “This had better be good.”
“Do you remember what brought us to peace, Carol?”
She stared at him with an odd expression. “What brought who to peace?”
“Us. Humanity.”
June waited, looking slightly bewildered.
“It was nothing. No political or religious messiah, no cataclysmic event. Our greatest achievement as a species was an uneventful bore.”
“Please tell me I’m not here for a history lesson.”
“And oh, we do celebrate it,” he continued on as if he hadn’t heard her. “We hold parades and lift banners. For one day every year, we carry on like merry little children despite the war that rains down from our sky. Peace belongs to our species and we have embraced it, regardless of what our alien adversaries do.”
He went on before she could interrupt. “I believe humanity is inherently good. I believe peace was inevitable, because I believe we have yearned for it all our existence. It was destined. It required no magical event. It was our soul-written will.” He turned to her for the first time. “But what if we had no word for peace? What if such a concept was unknown? What if we worshipped the very act of war?”
She stared at him mutely with growing interest, her anger dissipating.
“There is much you don’t know, Carol. But in due time, you will understand. It will not be easy to accept what I am about to say, but you must trust me when I say, we have your best interests at heart.”
“Who is we?”
He looked down and pulled his gloves on tighter. “There are things in this universe too complicated to be conveyed in a single message. Existence is so complex. That is why we must remember our purpose. We are here to preserve the human species. We are here to ensure that our ‘peace,’ as boring as it may be, will go on.
“There are times when the simple choice is not always the correct one. There are times when humility must supersede dedication. When compromise must come before loyalty.”
“What are you talking about?” she finally asked.
He turned away again. “I am talking about responsibility. Sacrifice. I am talking about the fate of our species and our planet.” He looked at the stars. “Something is coming, Carol. We have all yet to see it. But it can already be felt.”
“Are you talking about the attacks in Europe?”
He stared up in silence.
“Malcolm,” she demanded, “what is this about?”
He drew a breath. When he answered, his voice was lower than the temperature. “This is not for Thoor. It is not for the Council, nor is it for President Pauling. What I am about to tell you is not for all ears.”
The judge shook her head. “What are you about to tell me, exactly?”
He offered no more obscurity and no more playing with words. What he said next was blatantly clear.
“I’m about to tell you why we’re at war.”
Carol June didn’t return to her suite for another two hours. When she did, she entered in silence. The once-tired look on her face was now replaced with something beyond vast contemplation. It was replaced with pure fear.
For ten minutes, she leaned against the inside of her door, staring at nothing. Even as she stripped down and prepared for bed for the second time that night, her mind was elsewhere. Her unsettledness stayed with her the whole while. It was there as she turned off the lights. It was there as she slid under the covers.
It was there in her dreams.
23
Tuesday, November 15, 0011 NE
0545 hours
Novosibirsk, Russia
The next morning
Scott flinched as his alarm clock beeped. His eyelids felt almost too heavy too open. Feeling thoroughly drained, he reached to his nightstand and silenced the clock.
Did I sleep at all? He knew that he had. He recalled dreaming, though he couldn’t remember the details. He only knew that he’d lost track o
f consciousness at some point. In the past he would have leapt out bed and forced himself awake. But for the past few months he hadn’t had the energy. Today felt even worse. It was as though the full scope of the previous day’s events had all settled upon him during the night, rendering his attempts at rest all but totally futile.
He couldn’t shake the conversation he’d had with Svetlana from his mind, even though it made him uncomfortable to think about. Her heart, her purpose in returning, it had all become clear. She was hurting like him.
He forced himself to focus on other things.
The Bakma. Check on the Bakma.
He had no choice about that one. He was solely responsible for saving the alien’s life and transporting it from the Walls of Mourning to Confinement. But that didn’t bother him—he actually looked forward to it. However, it would still have to wait.
The captain is dead.
Clarke was the next one to enter his mind. Yesterday the captain’s death had blindsided them all, but today they would have no choice but to move on. Dostoevsky would never head up the resolution process on his own—at least not with EDEN’s half of the crew. Scott hadn’t even heard anything about a funeral. Clarke’s wife lived right there in Novosibirsk. He wondered if anyone from the unit would go.
Esther.
Private Brooking, their Type-2 scout from Cambridge, England. The moment she entered his thoughts, he felt a knot of considerable size form deep in his stomach.
Esther wanted to go with me in Chernobyl. She wanted to charge the necrilids alongside me, but I told her no. He closed his eyes again. She always wants to go with me, but I always say no. She’s done everything she can to try and live up to my expectations. Even after I hit her in Khatanga.
His expression grew pained. He had never brought up the Khatanga incident with Esther, instead acting as if it had never happened. He’d hit a comrade out of sheer anger. In a year of bad moments, that one was one of his worst. He’d all but ignored it until now.
She still smiles when she sees you. She still wants to go with you. She still tries her best to make you proud. And you always say no. You’ve done more for a Bakma prisoner than for her.
He opened his eyes and blew a breath upward. The mere thought of the British scout hurt. In truth, nothing else on his to-do list mattered as much as Esther. Tauthin could wait. As far as the captainship of the unit, that wasn’t his problem anyway. But Esther—he needed to deal with her himself. His day would have to start there.
It took Scott fifteen minutes to become fully awake and get in uniform, considerably longer than normal. Nonetheless, he was prepared for the day—at least in body. He was far less confident about his mental readiness. With his tasks set before him, he left the privacy of his room for Room 14.
The plan was to wake only Esther; he didn’t want to disturb anyone else. It was a considerable change from former times when he would march into the room, clapping his hands and shouting for everyone to rise.
When he finally reached the room, he opened the door quietly and peered in. His eyes locked for a moment on his old bunk—the one he used to share with David. David was there, sound asleep. You never used to sleep late, Dave. You used to wake up early with Galina. There were times when Scott almost forgot the former NYPD officer even belonged to the unit. David had become more of an afterthought than Boris. For that, Scott blamed himself.
To an extent.
He eased far enough in the room to make out Esther’s bunk, but he stopped short when he realized she wasn’t there. He could plainly see her bed sheets pulled off, with the scout nowhere to be seen. There were no lights coming from the lounge; in any case, she wouldn’t have been in there in the dark.
Where are you, Esther? Where would she have gone to get away? Where would she have gone to release the tension of a feud with the new chief medic? If there was one place Esther would go to escape from the world, where would it be?
He didn’t have to wonder for long.
* * *
Esther’s head broke the water’s surface as she emerged at the edge of the pool. Dipping her head back just enough to slick down her hair, the British scout closed her eyes and sighed.
“I shouldn’t be surprised.”
At the sound of his voice, Esther jumped. When she lifted her head, streams of water trailed down her face. She wiped them away.
Smiling as he approached, Scott said, “You’re the only girl I know who has gills.”
Esther leapt out of the pool. “Lieutenant,” she said breathlessly. Her expression showed both surprise and concern.
The irony was not lost on Scott that on back-to-back days, Svetlana and Esther had retreated to the pool, both times to escape one another. “At ease. What brings you here so early in the morning?”
Water tattered the floor beneath her; she fell into attention. “I couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to release some stress, sir. I apologize.” Glancing at her swimsuit, she frowned.
She apologized, and for no reason at all—as though it had become habit. This is because of me. He motioned to a bench against the wall. “Come sit down.”
“Yes sir?” It was both an affirmation and a question.
“I want to talk.” Scott lowered himself on the bench.
She stared at him uncertainly before sitting next to him. Though she said nothing, she bowed her head and lowered her eyes with the slightly guilty look of a girl who’d been caught in the act of doing something wrong, without being sure of what it was.
“Esther.” It was an awkward moment. He could see her apprehensively trembling, but he had to continue. He wanted her to know what he was about to tell her was real. “I am so sorry.”
When he said it, she blinked. It was as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard right. She tilted her head.
“I am so sorry for what I did to you in Khatanga. You didn’t deserve it.”
He watched her eyes as they moistened. She took a nervous breath before answering. “No, I’m sorry, sir. What happened in Khatanga was my fault. What you did was—”
“Horrible,” he said, cutting her off. “What I did was horrible.”
Scott was mentally prepared for what happened next. What surprised him was that it happened so fast. Esther’s eyes began to noticeably shimmer as her mouth hung open wordlessly. She was fighting to hold back her emotions. Finally, she lost. As her head sunk, she lifted her hand to hide her eyes.
Scott couldn’t help it. His head lowered, too, but for an entirely different reason. This damage is mine. He reached out, gently hugging her. She fell apart in his arms.
“I didn’t mean…didn’t mean to do it wrong,” she spoke in heaves. “I thought I was talking to you…”
Scott placed his hand gently behind her head. He wasn’t sure of the right thing to say, so he settled for all he knew. “This isn’t your fault.”
She sniffed hard. “I saw the Eighth, and I saw them see them, and I knew they were ready…”
He listened as she continued. Anyone passing by would have had no idea what she meant. But he understood.
“I was shaking so much—”
“Esther,” he stopped her again. “You don’t have to think about it anymore. It’s over. It’s in the past. It’s not who you are.”
She pulled away. “How can you not hate me? How can anyone not hate me?”
Scott remembered the first time he’d met her, in the hangar with Galina the day she arrived. She’d been so eager, so happy despite the downpour. She’d walked through the rain smiling like a child. Because she’d made it. And now, because of him, she was reduced to this.
“I don’t hate you. No one does. What you made in Khatanga was a mistake. It was the way I responded that was wrong.”
“What you did to me, I deserved,” she said through her tears.
“No, you didn’t. If anyone deserves to be struck, it’s me. I’m where I am and what I am because I couldn’t compose myself when faced with adversity. I can own up to that.”
; Her defense of him was immediate. “Becoming a Nightman wasn’t your fault, sir. We know what they did. We know they did it to get you.”
None of that mattered. “What I did, I have to live with. The mistake you made, you can let go of. I’m giving you permission to.”
She didn’t answer.
“I’m just asking one thing in return. Forgive me for Khatanga…for taking my anger out on you.”
Esther’s brown eyes settled on his face as her breaths began to waver. Once again, saline trailed down.
Scott observed her in silence.
Swallowing again through her tears, she said, “It took every ounce of courage I could muster not to run away after Khatanga.” For the first time during that conversation, a small smile escaped. “Forgiving you won’t be that hard.”
In the very instant Esther’s words came out, her whole face changed, as if a weight had been released. Her tears were still there, but there was something else. Her eyes brightened. Her small smile stretched into a grin.
“I don’t ever want to disappoint you, lieutenant. I don’t want to disappoint you ever again.”
“You won’t. I know you won’t.” He actually believed it. This is what I should have been doing all this time. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own self-pity and grief. He had been with Esther for scarcely five minutes, but already it struck him as some of the best time he’d spent in Novosibirsk. He felt younger. More importantly, he felt righted.
Esther laughed softly. “This isn’t what I thought you were here to talk about.”
“Don’t worry, we’re getting to that, too.”
She rolled her eyes imperceptibly. “Must we?”
“You know it.” Business was as much a part of his being there as was making amends. He’d considered addressing the cafeteria incident first, though wisdom said to start with Khatanga. He was glad he did; now he could talk with her both as leader and friend. “I just want you know that I believe in you—that I’m not angry for what happened. If anyone has had a right to be angry, it’s been you…and you haven’t. I thank you for that.”