by C. Gockel
“Well, we are headed for Eishon-2. There aren't a lot of flights off that world, so I don't know how long you'll be stuck there, but it's better there than floating in space, right?” There was a note of conciliation in Tremmilly's voice, apparently wishing the older woman would forgive her for Jaydon's drunkenness.
“That's fine,” Felar responded, too quickly. She tried to stay emotionless, but Maxar picked up the momentary flash of eagerness that crossed her face. This too was filed back in his mind for later review. Then something clicked.
Why is someone who is active military traveling with her son? It was obvious the woman was on duty due to the fact she was in uniform. Something about Felar and the twig-boy didn't add up. Maxar didn't want to figure it out though, he just wanted to get away from them. Anyone connected to the Ashamine would have a duty to subdue him, and barring that, at least report his escape.
“Either myself or Maxar can fly this craft though, so don't worry about having to wait for Jaydon to come back to the land of the living.” Tremmilly was still trying to lighten the situation and her latest effort had a positive effect.
“That's great, real great,” Felar said, a smile finally appearing. Maxar noted how beautiful it made her look, but that did little to change his desire to put as much distance between himself and the woman as possible.
Maxar turned to look at the boy, only to see him staring directly at him. His gaze was disconcerting in the extreme and Maxar wished the kid would quit using it on him. The fact the boy had said nothing the whole time he’d been on the ship was stranger still. Plus, other than his initial fright of Beowulf, he was unnaturally calm. A normal kid would be flapping from all the drama of escaping a ship that was smashed to pieces. Not natural, not natural at all.
After carrying Jaydon to the cargo hold, Maxar took a crate back to the command deck. He sat in the corner, watching Tremmilly switch the system over to auto-nav. Beowulf lay down next to him, and Maxar began petting the shaggy wolf-dog. Soon, Tremmilly and Felar got over some of their initial awkwardness and were talking more naturally, discussing their pasts and the current situation. The twig-boy Jon kept staring at Maxar, orange eyes piecing.
This is going to be a long thirty minutes, Maxar thought, trying to ignore him.
35 - Tremmilly
An alarm blared and Tremmilly turned her attention to the console. Fear surged through her. “We just hit critical level for atmosphere.” She reached forward and silenced the alarm.
Maxar stood from the crate he'd been sitting on in the corner and checked the display. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then announced, “It's gonna be close, but I think we'll make it.”
Silence descended over the command deck. Tremmilly still felt nervous. The image of being trapped in a space with no air kept running through her mind. I have to focus on something else, she thought. There is nothing I can do about that now.
“Where were you stationed before the Founder's Hammer?” Tremmilly finally asked Felar, resuming the conversation they'd been having before the alert.
“Ashamine-4,” she replied, looking up from Jon, a concerned expression lingering on her face. “It's the AF training world. I was an instructor for a while.”
Tremmilly was also worried about Jon. He’d looked withdrawn the entire time he'd been on the ship.
“Is she the girl? And which one is the convict?” he said quietly, alternating looks between Tremmilly, the cargo hold doorway, and Maxar.
How does he know there’s a convict on board? Tremmilly wondered, heart jumping. His orange eyes reminded her of something she couldn't quite grasp.
“Ashamine-4 sounds like an interesting place,” Tremmilly replied distractedly. “I've never been anywhere but Eishon-2 and Noor-5. That's why I'm excited to go back. It’ll be great to see Psidonnis after so long.” Maxar returned to his seat in the corner, seeming content to be silent. He hadn't said much since Felar and Jon had come aboard. I bet he's still worried Felar will turn him in. Tremmilly had no such concern. The woman had dropped her stern exterior, and Tremmilly felt a kinship with the Ashamine soldier.
The ship's terminal beeped loudly, signaling their proximity to Eishon-2. Tremmilly looked out the window, tearing up with happiness. “Those oceans are pristine,” she said, pointing out the view window, “clean blue water stretching as far as you can see. I've never sailed them, not many do, but I have been to the beach. If you follow the line of those snowy mountains south, you'll see a vast plain bordered by forests on three sides. We are headed to the western edge of the plains. That's where my home is.”
“I'm excited,” Felar said. Maxar nodded and smiled.
“There are a few things I should tell you about my village.” Tremmilly said, her anxiety shifting to a new cause as they approached the grass landing area outside the village. “It is made up of mostly Dygars. Their customs are strange. I'm not sure what they will say to you. I just wanted to warn you not to be offended.”
“Do they sacrifice humans?” Maxar asked with mock horror.
“No,” Tremmilly said, laughing, “nothing like that. The priests can just be an odd bunch, that's all.”
“I'm sure we can handle it,” Felar said. “And maybe Jaydon can get counseling from Psidonnis or another priest. He obviously needs it.”
After a few more minutes of conversation, the ship set down gently and went to standby. Tremmilly walked back into the cargo hold, hoping Jaydon would be awake. He was still passed out, clutching his bottle.
“Well, guess you'll have to catch up later,” she told him. Tremmilly hoped Jaydon would decide to stay on Eishon-2 for a while. The peacefulness of the place would help him heal, even if he decided against counseling. “You still owe me the story about who I remind you of. I'm holding you to that,” she said with a sad smile, hitting the hatch release.
Felar, Jon, and Maxar followed her outside and Tremmilly was surprised to see a priest standing a short distance from the ship. Her heart soared as she walked towards her old friend. A moment later, she realized the man was elderly and bald like him, but it wasn't Psidonnis. In fact, it wasn't anyone she knew.
“Terra bless you children,” he said in a beatific tone. “I am Brother Torvold. Father Psidonnis sent me to fetch you. He foresaw your coming.” Tremmilly noticed Felar and Maxar exchanging looks, but was thankful neither said anything. The boy took it all in, his penetrating orange eyes absorbing everything around him.
“Terra bless you too, Brother Torvold,” Tremmilly said, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you for coming to escort us.” The priest bowed in return and began walking towards the settlement, gesturing them to follow.
“While you were off planet, Brother Psidonnis was raised to Father,” Brother Torvold said. “His prophecy accorded him great honor and prestige. Terra manifested through him, showing us her favor.” Brother Torvold fell silent, looking like he had something he needed to say. Tremmilly kept quiet, a sinking feeling building in her stomach. “Shortly after the ceremony, Father Psidonnis suffered a stroke. The Healing Father looked at him, but said there was nothing to be done. He has been resting in his cottage ever since.”
Tremmilly broke into a run towards the settlement, tears streaming from her eyes. Beowulf loped easily at her heels. Her desire to see Psidonnis narrowed her vision, and she failed to notice any of the familiar sights greeting her homecoming. When she entered his cottage, Tremmilly gasped.
Psidonnis was withered and atrophied, his body a ghost of its previous state. The Dygars were obviously taking good care of him, but he looked on the verge of death. Tremmilly rushed to his side, all the fears conjured by Brother Torvold's words now manifest before her. When she sank beside his cot, a choked sob escaped her lips. Psidonnis opened his eyes and smiled. A jagged sliver of pain drove into Tremmilly as she saw one lid didn't open as far as the other, that half of the formerly radiant smile didn't exist.
“Hello Trem,” he said, voice slurring the mellifluous tones she had heard her entire life
. This, more than anything, drove home the realization he was damaged. She wanted him to get up, to quit giving her that inadvertent sneer of a smile, but it wasn't going to happen. She felt helplessness and despair engulf her.
“Hail Psidonnis,” she replied, returning the greeting they had performed so many times. “I wish I had never gone. This wouldn't have happened if I had stayed,” she said, tears flooding her eyes. How could he have changed so much in just six weeks?
“You had no control over this,” Psidonnis said reassuringly. “There was nothing you could have done.” He raised his left arm and used it to gesture her closer, embracing her as best he could. “I sent you away. Great Terra has shown me much of your journey. I know you brought someone back, a few someones in fact.” Tremmilly didn't know how to respond, so she sat in silence.
“You did a great job, Trem,” Psidonnis continued. “I knew you would. It’s scary going off world, but you did it. I'm afraid, however, there is more for you to do.”
At this, Tremmilly stiffened, ready to fight his judgment. “I'm not leaving you again, especially not when you are like this. I won't let you die.” Her words tasted bitter.
“Tremmilly, I’m going to pass on,” he said, the slur of his voice reducing the severity of his tone.
“I'll take you off world so real doctors can help you. They'll fix your brain, reverse the damage. They can do amazing things with nano-tech.” This idea revitalized her, gave her hope. Before she’d finished speaking, he shook his head.
“That's a great idea Tremmilly, and we could go right now if it weren't for the fact that time is precious and growing short. There is no time for you to waste on me.”
“Waste?! Waste?!” she shouted, voice becoming shrill. “What is more important than saving the life of my most beloved friend? Tell me!”
“If you had the choice between saving me and saving everyone in the universe with all its generations to come, what would you do?” he asked, most of the slur replaced with a commanding tone. Tremmilly calmed, responding to his authority.
“That question makes no sense and has no answer,” she replied, refusing to give in. “I'm not the Founder, able to influence the galaxy. I can merely love and help those closest to me.”
“Even the smallest pebble may change the course of a mighty river if it is close enough to the source. I know you want to take care of me, but you must not. You don't have the time. I'm telling you that great and terrible events are ahead of us, and you are but a small stone. You must get as close to the river's source as possible, must divert it so we are not all swept away.” The vitality was draining from his eyes and Tremmilly could see he was growing more exhausted.
“You need to rest. You look tired,” she implored, feeling drained herself.
“Yes, yes,” he replied distractedly, his eyes, both the open and the veiled, taking on a far off look that didn't ease her fears. “Just remember that I will always love you.” She rose from beside his cot and walked to the door.
“We can talk more when I get back,” she said, fighting hard not to begin sobbing. “I'm going to go get some blankets or a cot so I can sleep near you, that way if you need anything, I can get it.” He didn't seem to notice her leaving.
When she returned to the cottage, Psidonnis was dead.
The memorial for her greatest human friend was held two days later, during a sunny afternoon. The wind blew gently, whispering through the full green leaves of the trees. Tremmilly thought it a fitting day to remember a kind, gentle man. When they laid him to rest in mother Terra, his flesh bare and ready to receive her embrace, Tremmilly quit resisting her emotions. She cried and cried, great sobs wracking her small frame. Her parents had passed before she understood what death meant. That loss had dulled with time, but this—this was fresh, deep, and raw.
As she left the memorial, a hand snaked around her own, squeezing tightly. When she was able to blink away enough tears, she saw Felar standing next to her, her son Jon following close behind. She squeezed back, grateful she had a new friend to be with as she said goodbye to an old one. Maxar and Jaydon soon joined the group, bringing more light to Tremmilly's darkness. Jaydon's movements were graceful. He didn't have his bottle.
They all walked in silence for a while, taking in the bright sunshine and fresh air. “We're sorry for your loss,” Maxar said, as Tremmilly stopped near the stream bank. The water coursed through well-worn rocks, the sound soothing her raw emotions.
“Thank you,” was all Tremmilly could think of as a response.
“I hate to talk about it right now,” Maxar said awkwardly, “but we all need to discuss what happens next.” He paused for several moments, and when no one responded, he pushed on. “Felar, what do you think the Ashamine’s response will be?”
Felar thought for a moment, then answered, “I doubt anyone on the Hammer had time to transmit their location to Ashamine Forces Command, so they'll have to send out ships to look for it. That will take time, but Eishon-2 is a known worm location, so they will be here before too long. Once they find the debris, they'll send an investigative team.” She paused for a moment, looking unsure.
“What is it?” Tremmilly asked, the discussion drawing her out of her grief.
“Well,” Felar said, hesitatingly, “the Hammer was carrying some pretty important cargo. I'm guessing the Ashamine will send out more than just a team. They'll probably dispatch a whole battle group to recover it.”
“Great,” Maxar grumbled, shaking his head.
“What kind of cargo?” Jaydon asked, his coherent question surprising Tremmilly.
“It’s classified above my level,” Felar answered.
Maxar had a resigned, disappointed look in his eyes. “Whatever it is, they'll be crawling all over Eishon-2 asking questions, looking for it. I’d hoped to be able to stay here for at least a little while, but now it's important Tremmilly, Jaydon, and I to head somewhere outside the Eishon system.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Felar said, looking puzzled, “why not wait? Tremmilly is in the midst of her grief and the ship is in dire need of repair.”
Tremmilly looked at Jaydon and Maxar, hoping one of them would explain. Neither did. OK, if they aren't going to fabricate a good lie, I'll tell the truth.
“Before I left Eishon-2, Psidonnis spoke a prophecy. It's the whole reason I left in the first place. I only understand parts of it, and I'm not sure I even have those right. Though I loved Psidonnis, I have mixed feelings about the prophecy. It’s complicated. Initially, I only followed it because it was exciting. In the end, I got more than I wanted, but I also met all of you. I don't believe in gods, but it seems like something is leading me. Maybe it's just my intuition, or chance.” She felt like she wasn't making sense, but Felar nodded, so she continued.
“Anyway, following the leading took me to the A'Tal's Revenge and Jaydon.” Tremmilly paused. She could see Maxar tensing, knowing what she was about to say. “Jaydon helped me get to Bloodsport, where we rescued Maxar.”
Felar looked over at Maxar. “I figured as much. Your story about being a merchant on Haak-ah-tar was pretty flimsy. You're a warrior and it shows. If it makes you feel any better, you don't have to worry about me reporting you. I don't owe the Ashamine anything.”
“You're an Enlightened. That's not exactly a conscript,” Maxar replied.
Tremmilly could tell he was angry with her for revealing his secret, but Felar had responded how Tremmilly knew she would. It will be easier now that we don’t have to keep secrets from each other. Tremmilly hoped she hadn't damaged her growing friendship with Maxar.
“You're right,” Felar answered, voice level, “but lately some things have made me question my allegiance. Those events have also put me in a position where I need to stay away from the Ashamine investigation as well. The truth is, I kidnapped Jon from his father. He was an abusive man, but highly ranked in the Ashamine. If they find Jon, they'll take him back to his father and put me in the Clothing of the Iconoclast.”
“So,” Felar said, a wan smile on her face, “it looks like Maxar and I at least have need to stay away from the blighthearted Ashamine. Tremmilly, you could remain here though. All record of you and Jaydon's presence on Bloodsport was likely destroyed in the supernova.”
“I have no reason to stay here,” Tremmilly replied, trying not to start crying again. “Besides, there is the prophecy. Captain Jaydon, is your ship still for hire?”
“Ain't nobody paid me yet, and it's busted,” he said, “but yes, I'll continue to let you fly my ship around the buggered Akked. Drunk in a dock or drunk in space, doesn't matter one bit to me.”
“The hull of the Revenge needs a day or two of repair,” Maxar said, “and we'll need to find someone to fix the worm drive, if that’s possible.”
Jaydon thought for a moment. “If I stay sober, we can get the hull done in a couple hours.”
Tremmilly doubted that would happen. I'll do my best to help him stick to it.
“And what about this prophecy?” Felar asked. “Am I in it?” Her words sounded like a joke, but Tremmilly could see the underlying seriousness.
“I'm not sure.” Tremmilly's embarrassment crept back into the pit of her stomach. They're friends, they'll understand. “The best way for you to know is to listen and see for yourself.”
Tremmilly began a recitation of the prophecy, exactly as Psidonnis had told her originally:
“When the Breakers rise, there shall be six on whose choices the worlds do lie. The choice of virtue or corruption will bring an ancient existence to many, death to more still. Persevere and strive, the Acclivity will bless those who survive.