by Craig Gaydas
Sam's hand fell on my shoulder. “I thought you should be here for this. I know you missed the chance to say goodbye to Satou, so I didn't want you to miss this.”
“I missed saying goodbye to a lot of people,” I replied. Too many, I reflected silently.
Grillick blew in the tube which produced a high-pitched whistle. “I regret to say, I did not know Kedge well, so I will not have much to offer about him as a person. This, however, will not detract from his great sacrifice. I am afraid to say, I do not know the official Explorer's League customs as it pertains to funerals, so I will defer that particular ceremony to Embeth. However, before I hand this over to him, I do have a quote I would like to share. This is something I have shared with others during periods of grief. It has been so long, I forgot who the quote belongs to, but I keep it written down for times like these.” He reached into his pocket and fumbled with it for a minute before retrieving a piece of paper. He unfolded it and straightened it out as best as he could. “Death is simply the beginning of another journey. How are we to know that those who have passed from life do not regret having clung to it? The dead laugh at us while they watch us struggle through this existence. Death is designed to be one's final wakeup call.” He folded the paper and placed it in his pocket. He looked at Embeth and nodded.
Embeth nodded his acknowledgement and stepped forward. He removed the flag from the coffin and folded it into a square, no bigger than two feet. He turned and handed it to me. With a confused expression, I accepted it. Embeth responded with a salute.
“Normally, the fallen are honored by passing the flag to their next of kin. You were the closest to him, therefore you will receive the flag of the Explorer's League,” he explained.
I tucked it under my arm and returned the salute. I felt stupid and I was almost positive my form would make any veteran soldier cringe. Embeth showed no outward signs of embarrassment or disdain. He dropped his salute and returned to the head of the coffin.
He cleared his throat and placed the tips of his fingers on the coffin. “The Explorer's League is dedicated to seeking knowledge in the face of danger. Soldiers are not heroes for rushing into battle and slaying the enemy. That is their job and they are well-trained and well-equipped in order to achieve the task. The members of the Explorer's League are not. They rush into the unknown to seek knowledge. Their job is to discover and unravel the mysteries of the universe in the face of untold danger. They know this, yet their desire to improve and further our cause far outweighs their fear of risk. This makes them heroes. Kedge Mal'Dineen is now one of our honored dead. Per custom, his name will forever be interred in the halls of the Archives.” He paused and looked around the room. “Unfortunately, as of right now, we no longer have access to the Archives. We owe it to him to win this war so he can be honored in the same way his predecessors were.”
“HONORED DEAD!” The cry rose from every soldier in the room.
“Honored dead,” Embeth repeated softly. He turned to Cantrell, who stood next to a control panel near the window. With a nod, he turned to the panel and pushed a button.
With a sigh, the floor panels slid aside, revealing a chamber underneath the coffin. The coffin descended slowly into the chamber. When it stopped, the floor panels slid closed, making it seem as if the floor swallowed it whole. Cantrell pushed another button and the coffin erupted from the ship into deep space, leaving behind a brightly lit trail of gas, almost like the tail of a comet.
The final ride of Kedge Mal'Dineen.
I strolled to the window and watched the light recede in the distance. When it was nothing more than an illuminated dot in the sky, I turned and noticed everyone had filed out of the room except Grillick and Sam. Grillick fidgeted back and forth, shuffling from one foot to the other, looking like he had to pee. Sam stood with his hands folded behind him, as if he anticipated I'd have some sort of emotional breakdown.
“What?” I asked.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Am I? What exactly did I feel at that very moment? Regret…sadness…anger? All of these emotions flooded my soul, yet the only one I could truly focus on was rage. I would make Calypso pay for everything he had done. That was my vow and only rage would be able to assist me in meeting that vow.
“I suppose so,” I replied reluctantly. “I'm tired of watching people close to me die. I'm tired of feeling powerless to stop it.” I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I'm tired of this war.”
Sam's expression softened and his eyes filled with sympathy. “Hopefully, it will soon be over.”
I returned my attention to space beyond the window. “But we can never go back.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I closed my eyes and remembered the good times young Sam and I had long ago. I remembered my eleventh birthday when my parents took us to the Carlsbad Museum and Art Center. The cave exhibit was what had piqued my interest with spelunking in the first place. Sam reluctantly tagged along to grab a glimpse of it. Unfortunately, we had to pass the bat exhibit first and I will never forget the look on his face that day. His face took on a deathly pale in shade and I swore he had chewed off all his fingernails.
“Bats,” I snickered.
“What did you say?” When I turned around, he was staring at me with a quizzical expression on his face.
“Sorry, I remembered our time at the Carlsbad Museum and the bat exhibit.” Sam's expression changed and he looked queasy. After all he had been through in life, he was still afraid of bats. “My point is that we can never go back to the way it was, Sam. As much as my parents drove me crazy, I miss them. Hell, I even miss the kids in school who picked on us relentlessly. I miss being a kid. I miss video games and pizza. My childhood is gone and I can never get it back. We can never go back.”
“Maybe someday, as our study of time holes progresses, it can be possible,” commented Grillick.
I shook my head. “Unless you invent a reset button for the brain, I could never regain my innocence or my youth. What I have been through will never be forgotten. I would be a lost soul coasting through my teenage years with ghosts haunting me around every corner and blood on my hands.” I looked down at my prosthetic hand. “My hand, I mean.”
“When all this is over, you will have a chance to build something new,” Grillick replied. “One may never recover the past, but one can build toward a brighter future.”
“If one survives,” I added sourly.
“Don't think like that,” scolded Grillick. “Negativity breeds unproductivity. If you are constantly looking back over your shoulder, you will be blinded to what's ahead.”
“Thanks, Confucius,” I grumbled and turned toward the door. “I'm heading to my room to see if I can get some sleep. I will catch up with you guys when we arrive on Xajax.”
Sam grabbed my arm on the way out. I stopped and faced him. “Sometimes life hands us lemons…you know the rest of the saying.”
I smiled wryly. “Yeah, I know the saying.” I walked passed him and through the door, but I turned at the last minute.
“When life hands us lemons, put them in a bag and beat someone with it.”
The Wolf and the Sheep
I awoke to a tapping on my door. On instinct, I looked down at my wrist to see what time it was only to realize I didn't own a watch. I rubbed the cobwebs of sleep from my eyes and stood up groggily. There were no longer stars in my window, but rather the jagged peaks of the mountains of Xajax. We have landed already, how long have I slept? When I opened the door, the grogginess melted away and my internal alarm system switched to DEFCON 1. Mortem stood outside my door, leering at me through his unreadable amber eyes.
“What are you doing here? I asked. Each word had suspicion wrapped around them. He stepped inside and the door slid closed behind him. I stared at the closed door and frowned. “Suddenly, there came a tapping, as if someone rapping, rapping at my chamber door,” I muttered.
Mortem roared with such laughter that it seemed to r
everberate off of the walls. “Edgar Allan Poe. It is good to see you have some class.”
I admit, I had been caught off-guard by his knowledge of Earth's history, but I didn't back down. “Can I help you with something?” I snapped.
His smile didn't fade. It seemed he appeared even more amused by my outburst. He took a seat and propped his feet up on the desk. “Actually, I am here to help you.” His hand rested on the armrest of the chair. I grimaced at the sight of his graphite fingers tapping in unison with each other. His fingers looked like charred hotdogs and I was forced to look away to avoid vomiting the Grog-burger I ate earlier. “I have brought my soldiers to fight, but from what I understand, you are the one who is leading my family members into battle.”
“Family members?”
“My army is my family,” he replied with a serious expression. “I'm a little disturbed that I was not invited to lead the invasion of Caelum.”
“Don't look at me,” I replied. “Ibune insisted on tagging along and with Sam and Embeth that made four. As you know, four is the magic number.'
Mortem stopped drumming his fingers. “Yeah, right.” He curled his mouth in a look of discomfort. “You see, that is why I am here. I am here to inform you that you are the odd man out on this one.”
My eyes widened and I slammed my fist on the desk. The gesture didn't even faze him. He remained stoic, watching me as if I was a fly that just landed in his soup. “WHAT?!” I roared. “There is no way in hell I am sitting back and watching from the sidelines. This was MY idea!”
Mortem held up his hand. “Calm down. No one is saying you cannot go. Sam will come back to get you. Let us do the heavy lifting in the meantime.” His smile returned. By the time you get there, we should have the place contained. I hate to be the harbinger of bad news, but you are not a warrior, Nathan.”
I felt my fury rising. “Oh, and you are?” I scoffed. “You sit back in some dark lab conducting experiments on dead things. I suppose that's The Timeless version of a warrior?”
Mortem appeared unperturbed by my outburst. Instead, his eyes drifted toward an object which sat on my desk. It was the ankh Kedge had given me. He reached over, grabbed it, and turned it over in his fingers. His smile widened.
“It has been a long time since I have seen one of these. Long ago, unknown to your people, I visited Earth. This symbol was very common back then. The people referred to it as the 'symbol of life'.” He chuckled dryly. “I remember my surprise, at the time, to learn that a symbol of the Martian colonies had survived for such a long period of time.” He held the ankh close to his eyes. “I knew then it had been the work of Horus. I'm not sure how you feel about him personally, but I am almost positive you were amazed to discover the resemblance between him and the ancient Egyptian god, Anubis.”
“It came to mind.” I shrugged off his statement. I was too busy trying to figure out where he was going with all of this.
“Horus was not as discreet as I was with his visit to your planet,” he continued. “They worshipped him as a god.” His mocking laughter told me all I needed to know about their relationship. Apparently, they did not see eye-to-eye on most things. “Anyway, to make a long story slightly less long, they copied his symbol and designated it as a symbol to life. But what your people failed to realize is that, there is no power in life. It is all an illusion.”
“What do you mean?” I hated to admit, despite his creep factor, he had piqued my interest.
He tossed the ankh on the desk and reached into a pocket underneath his cloak where he retrieved a leather-bound book, which measured about two inches thick. The book had been tied shut with a thin, braided rope. He placed this object on the desk next to the ankh and tapped it with his index finger. “Contained within this journal is centuries of research into the power of death. Before the events which created this present universe, I was one of the leading scientists among my peers. My duties had been focused on ways to increase one's lifespan. Either through technology, medicine, or bioscience, I was dedicated on improving our lives and extending them beyond the standard mortality rate.” He waved his hand as if swatting away a fly. “You see, back then, our people lived for an average age of sixty years. Our goal at the time was to improve that to eighty. There were some challenges and unforeseen circumstances, but I won't bore you with details. We were able to improve it to seventy years, but we were about to make a major breakthrough when the universe went to hell.” He picked at the rope binding, like a guitar string. “After spending years mourning the loss of my people, I decided to dedicate my life to something much more fascinating: Death.”
“Well, that's a switch.” I watched him pick at the rope methodically before adding, “and quite morbid.”
“Not at all,” he responded with an icy calmness. “There is great power in death. Think about it,” he said as he ticked off each point on his fingertips. “Life ends, death does not. Death conquers life, but life cannot conquer death, only feed it. Despite our best technologies and medical advancements, we cannot cheat death nor can we avoid it. Death's guarantee is absolute.”
“So why bother doing anything? Why not just give up and submit to death like an offering or something?” My question was serious, but judging by the sour look on his face, he took it as mocking.
“Death feeds on life, silly boy. Without life, death would cease to exist.”
“But you just said that death is eternal. How can something be eternal if it can cease to exist?” I countered.
“AH-HA!” He slapped his knee. “Therein lies the conundrum and this point is exactly why I picked up my research with the Necromasters.”
“Necromasters?”
“A rogue science sect located on Drith,” he explained. The reference to Shai's planet sent a shudder through my spine. “Their research focuses on reanimating the dead. They believe it is the next rung on the evolutionary ladder. Their reasoning behind their research is not important, only their results.”
“Like your army?”
He pointed at me. “Exactly.” He grabbed the journal and shoved it in his pocket before standing. “Remember my cupped hand analogy on Gliese?”
I nodded, remembering it was a bit of condescension on his part, but didn't tell him that.
“There is a fine line between magic and science,” he explained. “You have yet to touch upon a fraction of either. But I did not come here to debate your level of knowledge. I came here to tell you that, even though you will not be leading an army into battle, you do have an important part yet to play.”
“And that is?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“I cannot tell you that. That is something you must discover on your own.”
“Well, that took a turn toward useless. Thanks a lot.” I frowned.
He waved his hand dismissively. “You will be involved in the battle on Caelum, despite your cynicism. It may not be the role you envisioned, but it will be a role nonetheless.”
A knock at the door interrupted him. I opened the door to let Grillick and Ibune in. They froze when they spotted Mortem.
“What are you doing here?” Ibune asked. “I thought I asked you to prepare your forces for immediate departure?”
“My forces are prepared,” he replied smugly. “I am here to update Nathan.”
Before she could respond, he left the room. She turned to me. “I'm sorry you had to deal with that.”
I shrugged it off. “It wasn't that bad. He opened my eyes regarding a few things.”
“Oh?” She hesitated and strange look came over her face, as if she didn't know what to say next. After a moment passed, she seemed to collect her thoughts. “I wanted to come here and apologize for the change in plans, but it appears Mortem beat me to it.” Abruptly, she turned and left the room.
“What was that all about?” I asked Grillick.
He shoved his hand into his beard and scratched roughly at his chin. “I do not know. Perhaps her mind is on the task at hand or perhaps she was distracted by
Mortem's abrasiveness.”
When I noticed that Grillick didn't move toward the door, I probed deeper. “There is another reason for your visit, isn't there?”
Grillick turned to the window and sighed. “I was coming here to let you know we have landed, but I forgot there was a window in here. Anyway, Sam has been briefed on everything and he is preparing the troops for the trip.”
“And?” I had a feeling there was more to this visit.
He shuffled his feet and looked down. “I wanted to let you know I enjoyed our time together and no matter what happens on Caelum, I wish you the best.”
Although his statement seemed innocent enough, it had a bit of a cryptic undertone to it. At first glance, it seemed as if he were wishing me luck with the upcoming battle, but a part of his statement stuck in my mind. No matter what happens on Caelum. What in the world did that mean? Did he mean whether we won or lost? Or was it something else?
“This sounds suspiciously like a permanent goodbye.” I stated.
He stared at his shoes for a long time before answering. “It is.”
“Why?” I asked with a mixture of shock and concern.
“The Timeless have always kept a low profile. Before this conflict, we prided ourselves on remaining somewhat anonymous while we pursued our various interests. We will need to pick up the pieces, mourn the loss of Scribe, and move on.”
Anger began to creep into my voice. “So what about me? What the hell am I supposed to do when this is over? My planet is gone, my family is gone…hell, most of my friends are gone!”
Grillick held up his hands in an effort to calm me. “I completely understand your concern.” He sighed. “I probably shouldn't have come here, but you hold a special place in my heart, Nathan. You have been through a lot and endured so much.”