Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation)

by Kasch, Andy

  “Brothers …I’m sorry.”

  Brandon squeezed his shoulder but remained silent. He decided to simply watch the big screen on the wall. The way the stars moved past was therapeutic. That was the position he chose to stay in for the duration of the long flight.

  Around him in the cabin, happy sounds and talking could be heard from the other seating sections. But not from Brandon’s section. It was uniquely quiet there. No one said anything for hours. Everyone in that section apparently figured out what had happened. Brandon was glad about that. There was nothing he wanted to talk about, and nothing anyone could say to him that would be welcome right now.

  Eventually, Perry knelt down in front of Brandon and offered his condolences. At some point, the other three members of Aston crew stopped by and did the same. Brandon only nodded in response each time.

  As the trip went on, the seating sections near Brandon’s became quiet as well. They must have gotten word, or maybe everyone was just tired and resting. It didn’t matter to Brandon. He just kept staring at the screen, watching the stars go by. Maybe one of those stars out there was Jack somewhere. Brandon thought he might have even dozed off and slept for a few minutes here and there, but he couldn’t be sure. He probably did.

  Near the end of 20+ hour flight, an Amulite who Brandon didn’t recognize stepped into his seating area. He seemed like he was looking for someone, and began glancing back and forth at Brandon and Mip7. Brandon leaned forward.

  “Can I help you?”

  “You are the pilots from the damaged ITF1 in the hangar?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here. We found this in the ship. It belongs to one of your crew.” The technician handed Brandon a manual or book of some kind that was charred all over the outside, and was flaking off burned pieces of pages.

  Brandon accepted it and thanked him. After the technician left, Brandon opened it and saw that it was Jack’s drawing tablet—or what was left of it, anyway. Most of it was burned and destroyed, but there were a few sketches that survived. Brandon spent the remainder of the flight looking at them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “No, man.” Derek kept shaking his head. “You’re not getting it. A level-headed guy like you should understand what I’m saying.”

  “I understand,” Brandon said. “I just don’t agree.”

  “Let me put it another way, then. Things wouldn’t change if you had the chance to do them over again, because you wouldn’t have the knowledge you have now. You would only have the knowledge you had back then, so you would do the same thing in the same situation again. Everybody would. So everything would happen again the exact same way as before. That’s why nothing in the past can ever be changed.”

  “But that wouldn’t be doing it over again,” Brandon argued. “So it’s a moot point you’re making. It would only be worthwhile to go back and have a do-over if you had the knowledge you have now to go back with, so you could change the way things happened.”

  “Exactly my point, man, moot or whatever. You don’t get to do that, so regrets are a waste of time and energy. You only know what you know at the time you know it, so wishing you had a chance to do something again wouldn’t make any difference even if you could. Everything must happen the way it does because nobody can see the future yet. There is no alternative, man. For all we know, time is like, not even in order.”

  “Like Slaughterhouse Five,” Brandon said.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” Brandon rubbed his temples. “All right. You win, Derek. Only because this conversation is getting my brain all mucked up, and I need to think about what I’m going to say. So, no offense, but I’ll meet you up there afterwards, all right? I need a little space to gather my thoughts.”

  “You don’t need to practice, brother. Just talk from your heart. I’ll see you after.” Derek started walking up the grassy hill.

  Brandon decided to walk up the paved pathway that ran alongside the steep drop-off. It was a nice day. He could see that a crowd was beginning to gather on the hilltop, which made him a little nervous.

  The view was quite beautiful from up here. A partial outline of Banor hung in the hazy blue sky, and down below the fledging Earth colony could be seen. The Earth colony appeared as one large building from this distance, modern and clean-looking with lots of blue-green moriglass windows. It reminded Brandon a little of a typical condominium complex back on Earth, except for the odd-shaped structures. All the individual residences were attached on at least one side, and there were centralized community buildings for recreation. They said it used to serve as temporary housing for students of the nearby university. There was plenty of room for additional residents, which would hopefully be coming soon. Right now, however, it was empty. All the Earthmen were either up on the hilltop awaiting the ceremony, or on their way up.

  Brandon meandered along the path and took in the sights and smells as he climbed. There was a garden between a small wooden fence and the drop-off. Exotic flowers emitted a fragrance reminiscent of tart cherries. Birds of various sizes and colors hopped between the vines, flowers, and bright shrubbery. It had a calming effect on Brandon’s nerves, so he stopped there and rehearsed for a bit while gazing at the Earth colony.

  After a few minutes, Brandon glanced back up behind him. The crowd was getting larger. Grass covered the entire hill on the right side of the pathway. Not blade-type grass, but flat clover; small, lush, and dark green. It immediately sprang back after being stepped on, leaving no trail. This was one of the nicer places Brandon had seen on either of the Torian twin worlds. It really was very much like a cemetery back home, except there were no graves.

  A lone figure in a cloak stood halfway up the hill on the side path ahead of Brandon. Apparently, someone else was also enjoying the view. Brandon recognized him as a Sheen and planned to pass right by whoever it was, respecting their solitude while still seeking some of his own. When he got there, however, he was winded and needed to catch his breath, so he stopped for a moment. The Sheen turned and faced him. It was Nunon4.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Brandon said. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “Tulros, Brandon. I am happy our paths have crossed again in such a pleasant manner.”

  “Yes, pleasant this time,” Brandon said, “even if the occasion is a sad one. Nunon4, I want to thank you for doing this. Your words are poetic. It means a lot to me.”

  “Poetry on your planet must be undemanding, but I am happy to provide any services I can. Are you also prepared?”

  “Not really, but my friend thinks that may be best.”

  Nunon4 nodded politely.

  “Let me ask you something,” Brandon said.

  “Of course.”

  “My friend and I were discussing the plausibility of time travel, or at the very least having the opportunity to go back to a prior point in one’s life and make different decisions. He thinks nothing could be changed, so all events would happen exactly the same way again, that the future is therefore set as the past is, and there is no possible altering of events. I disagreed with him, but perhaps my motives are biased, as I still feel somewhat responsible for the death of my crewmate.”

  “The future is not set, but the past is,” Nunon4 said. “Your friend is correct about the past. The future can be altered, however. Although, this is an interesting topic, because prophets can see events in the future that will come to pass.”

  “Then how can it be that the future is not set?”

  “The prophets have the ability to see the consequences of actions which will be chosen by others. They cannot see everything, only certain pieces, those pieces which will be, and at other times they can see potential consequences, alternate events which may or may not occur based on other’s decisions. It is all alterable by the present time, but the prophets can sometimes see what actions and decisions will ultimately be made. Therefore, it is reasonable to say that specific pieces of the future will come to pass with all certainty, and although they remai
n alterable by the present, they will not be. This is the great lament of the prophets.”

  “I guess that’s your way of saying being a prophet isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Understand,” Nunon4 continued, “it is folly to wish for an altered past. If this were possible, the physical dimension would not be stable, and all reality could vanish or transform at any moment. But to entertain the concept briefly, every event in a person’s life leads to where they are at the present. If a single minor detail were altered in one’s past, they would not be where they are now—perhaps they would not be here at all, or would be in a much less desirable situation. We have seen that all things tend to work together towards the benefit of the wise, and events that are undesirable at the time usually end up playing a significant role in the eventual promotion of wisdom.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Brandon looked to the hilltop, where the crowd was now even larger. Many were sitting in portable chairs or on the grass itself. “We better get going.”

  Nunon4 nodded and placed a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. They walked out on the clover and began climbing the hill together.

  “Being unprepared is never wise, Brandon, but the preparation of the heart is more important than the preparation of the mind. The heart transcends dimensions, but the mind is destroyed and left behind. I believe you are prepared and will do fine.”

  His words aroused Brandon’s interest. “Do the Erobs teach of a further existence, after the death of the physical body?”

  “We believe in a continuance, yes,” Nunon4 said. “Erob principles teach that a fool continues in folly, however, and the wise continue in wisdom. It is why we stress balance so much, and place the highest value on setting one’s heart towards seeking wisdom as opposed to wallowing in folly. The potential consequences are severe. We have no specific details on continuance or dimensional transcendence, and believe the pursuit of such would be folly. There is only so much the physical mind can grasp here. When one’s heart is aligned with wisdom, we believe it points them in the direction of Erob, and properly prepares them for whatever lies beyond.”

  “Jack’s heart was aligned with wisdom,” Brandon said, more to himself than Nunon4.

  “Yes,” Nunon4 said. “It was.”

  They reached the hilltop and picked their way through the crowd towards the front. Everything was ready. On the very peak of the hill was Jack’s coffin, on top of a tall, silver, oval-shaped cylinder. Next to it was a small platform with a podium. Behind the platform stood a line of government and military officials, all wearing red shoulder pads, facing the audience. The chancellors from both planets were at the front of the line, which was nice. Then there were governors, including Stugin2 of Cardinal-4, and military representatives, including the High General, Olut6, and others.

  Mip7, Perry, and the other humans who had participated in the rescue mission sat in the front row. They were surrounded by all the natives who were also part of the operation. Arkan9 and the six Chenel representatives were near the front as well. Many Sheen were also present, including Madkin3 from Landen. The other Earthlings, most of whom Brandon had not yet met, were sitting towards the rear, including Derek. Brandon noticed Derek was talking with one of them as he and Nunon4 passed through the audience.

  The two of them worked their way to the platform and the crowd became silent. Brandon then stepped off the platform and took his place at the head of the line of standing officials. The High General bowed to Brandon as he arrived. Brandon only nodded in response. Nunon4 stepped in front of the podium and began speaking.

  “Friends—and I feel I can call you all friends here today—another sad occasion befalls us as we properly close the life of one final victim of the recent attack on our star system. Thanks to the one whom we are gathered to honor, and his companions, this is the final tragedy of that horrible day. His name is Jack. And although he is a being of a foreign race, a race which many of you here are also members of, it has become clear in Tora to anyone paying attention lately that the presence of Earthlings among us has been a great benevolence upon our worlds.

  “Indeed, it is specifically because of the heroics of Jack and his companions that we know with certainty this is the final tragedy inflicted upon us by the invasion. If it were not for their actions, we would still be suffering from great loss, and could rightfully expect the victim count to further increase. Make no mistake in your assessment of the events which transpired—the Earthling whose body now towers above us freely exchanged his life for many of ours, while answering a high call for help from beings he knew not. It would be an unjust reference not to label him as a martyr, perhaps one of the most important in all of Torian history.

  “I knew Jack personally. I had the extreme pleasure of meeting him the night before he left on his mission, whereupon we discussed matters of the greatest importance.

  “A being of many talents, Jack was skilled in art. He saw things in a way few are able to, and could translate his visions into beautiful expressions for others to enjoy. Yet his greatest talent was his heart’s natural attraction to wisdom. I shared with him the primary principles of Erob law, and he reacted with great enthusiasm, indicating a desire to spend time studying our ancient laws. He expressly accepted the great overriding principle with more vigor than most of the Torian youth do in the current age. I shall greatly mourn the lost opportunity to both instruct and learn from this Earthman.

  “And then he went on to do something even more astounding, something not witnessed in Tora for many hundreds of years. He demonstrated his acceptance of the great overriding principle in an action which led to his own demise. Jack’s final act was one of compassion and great mercy, towards a multitude of alien beings which he personally knew nothing of, other than they appeared to be defenseless. This Earthman died in a pinnacle of wisdom which few of us could ever hope to attain. Oh, that we all had a heart so pure. Jack from Earth has set a new standard among the Sheen, and he will likely be referenced in our teachings for many generations. I will miss him.”

  Brandon fought back tears as Nunon4 paused for a well-timed moment of silence. Brandon could see several humans in the back wiping their eyes, some of whom doubtless had barely even met Jack.

  “This brings up an important point,” Nunon4 continued. “Jack and his companions voluntarily fought for a race of beings who wrongfully abducted them, and then kept them in cryonic preservation for decades. It would not be a breach of justice for all the resuscitated humans among us to consider all Torians their enemies. Is what we did to them so different than what the Azaarians did to us?

  “Yet, Jack and his friends exhibited the advanced Erobian trait of forgiveness and joined to help us in our time of need. As we speak, hundreds more Earthlings remain in cryonic preservation, and the ones who are now living among us are all young males with no female companionship. Shall we allow this shameful condition to continue even another day? Will we not learn from this benevolent race of beings who show more regard for our ancient laws than we ourselves do?

  “Brethren, we must guard our hearts and set them to seek wisdom—the wisdom of the old ways. This Earthman whose body is before us today has shown us the way. We must be careful not to cultivate hate in our hearts.

  “What I say now will be news to most of you. An Azaarian delegacy arrived in our star system while the rescue mission was in process.”

  There was a scuffle in the line next Brandon at those words. The High General, the Amulen Chancellor, and two of the other military officials began cursing under their breath and stepped out of line towards the platform. Olut6 came around in front of them and blocked their way, however. Rather than cause a scene, they got back into proper formation, but were not happy.

  Nunon4 continued speaking. “The Azaarian delegacy understandably kept their distance, and remained at the outer edge of our system. The sole purpose of their visit was communication. The Azaarians wanted us to know they are currently fighting a civil war. The peaceful d
elegacy was from the traditional government, but the prior attacking force was from the rebels, who had apprehended the warships. This is why they could not return to their home planet after the attack.

  “The division on Azaar came because of an infection, which the Azaarians alluded to in their communication. The Sheen now understand, through the aide of our prophet, that the infection was only able to spread because of an abandonment of Erob law in their society. What I tell you now is serious. The infection that divided Azaar is spreading out to other worlds, and has now touched Tora as well. We must return to our old ways with our whole hearts, if we are to fight it off, or our worlds may suffer the same fate. Let us not allow Jack’s great sacrifice to be in vain.”

  Nunon4 stepped back from the podium. Most of the military commanders standing next to Brandon looked like they wanted to put him up on top of Jack’s coffin before lighting the match.

  Brandon had other concerns, however. It was now his turn to talk.

  * * *

  There was murmuring throughout the audience as Brandon approached the podium. The information Nunon4 had delivered about the Azaarian communication was causing quite a stir. It was news to Brandon as well, and obviously considered classified military intelligence until just a moment ago. Brandon didn’t know how Nunon4 had come into possession of the knowledge, but he was glad he went public with it, as it didn’t seem like something that should be kept from the population.

  Brandon waited for his audience to quiet down. They didn’t, however, so he started speaking anyway, in a deliberately loud and abrupt voice.

  “This is a day of important considerations for all of us,” he began. The crowd noise only a abated little.

  “The most important of these considerations is the life of the human whose body is now towering behind me.”

  That did the trick. Suddenly you could hear crickets.

  “My name is Brandon Foss, as many of you know. I regret that I have not yet had the opportunity to meet all of you, especially those of you seated towards the rear.” Brandon looked back at the area where most of the humans were. “I’ve been …busy.”