by Jacob Gowans
General Juraschek had asked Commander Plack to be the liaison between the NWG Senate Committee on Appropriations and the Tensai Alpha teams working in NWG R&D centers in Montreal. Meetings often lasted all day. Afterward, Juraschek requested a briefing from his commanders.
Despite the hour and the setting sun, the commander stopped in the middle of the courtyard to admire the statue in place. He did it every day without fail. It was bronze and beautiful, two men and two women, each staring off to the east, to the rising sun, an expression of bravery and optimism adorning their faces. The commander knew each face well. The plaque underneath said:
“It is easier to fight to preserve the freedoms we already enjoy than to pay their cost in blood.”
—Thomas Byron (September 7, 2019 – November 5, 2091)
Then it had four names listed:
Honorary General and NWG Commander Walter Tennyson Byron (August 19, 2039 – November 11, 2087)
Ultra Dark Agent Vitoria Prado (July 1, 2072 – November 11, 2087)
Psion Alpha Agent Samuel Harris Berhane Jr. (November 18, 2070 – November 11, 2087)
Psion Beta Agent Gefjon Tvedt (January 30, 2071 – November 11, 2087)
Each time Commander Plack looked at it, he remembered the training, the battles, the sacrifices. It reminded him of those he had lost and what he had gained since then. He found it hard not to go home with a smile after putting things in perspective.
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at his house. Natalia flitted around the kitchen tailed by their two boys: Harris and Patrick. When the commander saw her, he gave her a wink. “Now I know why you wanted me home early.” He took a strand of her hair in his hand. “You wanted to show off your new hairdo, right? It looks fantastic, I’ll tell you.”
“I haven’t been this blonde in years,” she said, blushing. “How was work?”
“Boring,” he said, grabbing a knife to help her cut vegetables. “The kids?”
“Oh just great …” his wife said, passing him cucumbers. “Guess the new word Patrick learned today.”
“Um … Psion?”
“No. He learned the word no. And he’s been saying it all day.” Natalia kissed the commander on the lips. She tasted like sweetened cream. “Harris thinks it’s hilarious so he asks Patrick questions all day just to hear him say it.”
“Patrick, do you like breathing?” Harris asked his little brother.
“No,” Patrick answered emphatically.
Harris’s giggle was infectious. Even Commander Plack and his wife started to laugh. Commander Plack looked around the living room.
“So you were lying when you said people were here …”
“Yep.”
“What time are they coming over?”
“Whenever you call them.”
Dinner was grilled chicken salad. Commander Plack complained that they hadn’t had burgers in a month, but when Natalia gave him the stink eye, he stopped. Harris tried to help Patrick eat his food, but ended up spilling most of it onto his lap or the floor. Both of them needed baths before bed, which the commander did while his wife tidied the kitchen. Patrick refused to let the commander bathe him, and ended up soaking the bathroom floor and the commander’s clothes. No sooner did he have them dressed than his wife shouted his name from the living room. “You have a call.”
“Who is it?”
“Who do you think? Your co-conspirator.”
“Patch it through to me.” When the commander’s com beeped, he answered the call. “Yo, Rachel. How’s it going?”
“He’s suspicious.”
“Of course he is. You do this almost every year. It’s his thirtieth birthday.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been telling him for a month that the party is set up for Saturday. I thought I had him fooled.”
“He’s also the smartest man in the world.”
Commander Plack heard another voice in the background. “Is that Brick? Let me talk to him.”
“No!” Rachel said. “You can’t—” Her voice grew more faint. “Hey! Give me back my com!”
“Brick …” Jared’s voice was now much clearer. “You don’t really think I’m going to fall for this, do you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ll tell you.”
Jared laughed.
“Jared …” Despite thirteen years of practice, the commander still had a hard time calling Jared by that name. “Just play along with Rachel. Pretend. You know you’ll be glad you did later.”
“Are Al and Marie coming?”
“Yeah. Hope is coming too. She wants to play games with you. You know she’s got a crush on you, right? I’m talking a crush the size of that new Arena you put into Beta headquarters.”
Jared snorted a laugh. “Yeah, Marie told me.”
“Don’t embarrass her. She’s twelve. Thirteen. Crap, I forgot how old she is. Anyway, come over in about thirty minutes. I have to put my stinkers in bed first.”
“It takes you thirty minutes to do that?”
The commander checked the time. “I promised Harris a story tonight.”
“Oh yeah? Which one?”
“He calls it ‘The Uncle Story.’”
“What’s that about?”
“You. He just doesn’t know that particular detail.”
“You tell Harris stories about me?”
“Yep,” the commander said. “In great detail. He loves them.”
“Whatever. Thirty minutes. See you then.”
“Yep. See you.”
The call ended with a beep. The commander shouted to Natalia, “They’re coming over in thirty. Is that okay?”
“Fine,” she yelled back.
The commander hustled his kids to bed. Patrick went down quickly, but Harris’s way of winding down was talking. The commander listened patiently in the dark room, holding his son’s small hand while rubbing the back of it with his palm. Finally, when Harris seemed to have gotten everything out of his system, he took a deep breath and said, “Okay. I’m ready for the story.”
The commander nodded. “It’ll have to be a shortened version since we have company coming over.”
“Who?”
“Some friends. It’s a not-so-surprise birthday party for Jared.”
“Can I stay up? Please?” Harris started to pout until the commander tickled him. Then he pulled Harris’ covers up to his chin.
“All right, where should I start?”
“The beginning.”
“Okay, here we go. ‘The street lights of downtown Johannesburg cast long shadows through the dirty front windows of an abandoned grocery store …’”
THE END OF THE
PSION SERIES
AFTERWORD
*
Fellow bookworms,
I can’t believe it’s over. I really can’t. I’ve been working on the Psion series for almost ten years, and now it’s over. Of course, the Psion universe isn’t over. I plan to revisit it. Not necessarily these characters, but the fallout. The way things changed. Specifically what happened in the first century or three following the events of the Silent War. For now I’m calling it the Clone Saga, a name inspired by that convoluted mess of a story arc in the Spider-man comics. Stay tuned for more information.
For now, though, I need to say thank you. After Psion Beta, I wrote that if you wanted to read more books, I needed your help and support. And you gave it to me. My dreams have started to come true because you bought my book and told others about it. You got me to this point, Fellow Bookworm. You did. And I am so grateful.
Many people have said to me over the years that they wish Psion Beta was picked up by a publisher or was turned into a movie. Those are my dreams too. If you want to help me make it happen, please share the books. Please tell everyone how awesome you think they are! Please review each of them on Amazon. Please get them in your library. Word of mouth is still the greatest marketing tool.
I also want to mention a few people, the same who I’ve mentioned i
n every book. My Beta readers: Britta Peterson, John Wilson, Dan Hill, Jana Jensen, Natasha Watson, and Benjamin Van Tassell. These friends have proofread almost every book I’ve written, and always given me solid feedback. I am incredibly grateful for them. Also my proof readers, Caity Jones, Shannon Wilkinson, and Laura Gray for helping me dot my T’s and cross my I’s. And, of course, Brandon Dorman and Britta Peterson for their help with the cover and internal art.
My good friend, Adam Morris, aka Maad Rosmir, has been my consultant whenever I needed some advice. Kill Sammy or don’t? Kill Jeffie or don’t? Kill Byron or don’t? I teetered so many times between these three characters, and he helped me to envision exactly how I wanted it to end. No, not every character survived, but in the end I decided that some of them had suffered enough.
Will there be more about the main cast? Maybe someday. For now I don’t have any ideas left in the tank to take me back into the Psion series. If something comes along, will I write it? You bet I will. I hope I’ve earned your trust and support so that when my next series comes along, you’ll buy and share it.
Last of all, I have to tell my wife how much she has helped me to finish the series. Late nights, long days at libraries, irritability from stress, frustration at different steps along the way. She’s put up with it all, and I couldn’t have done it without her. I am so thankful she has been my partner in this endeavor. Thank you, Kat.
Until next time …
Long live Sammy!
— Jacob Gowans
www.jacobgowans.com