Hendriks walked over to stand beside Cool Evening Breeze. “All warriors go to hell,” he stated bluntly. “It’s the price we know we must pay for protecting what’s important to us: family, friends, and honor.” He placed a hand on Cool Evening Breeze’s shoulder. “Breeze and I, we’re warriors, and if hell is our destiny, so be it. I’d rather spend an eternity in hell with Breeze than spend one minute in heaven with people like that woman.”
54
THE OPHELIA WINSLOW INTERVIEWS, PART THREE: ROCKET MAN
“Good evening, everyone,” Ophelia Winslow said to her studio audience. “There is a common saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for, you might get it.’ I looked for the origin of this phrase and found that no one knows who first said it.” She added, “After last week’s show, I am even more hesitant to wish for an exciting show.”
She continued, “I have always prided myself on never screening the audience. I want a mix of people. I want a mix of ideas. What I do not want is hatred.” She shook her head. “I will continue to allow anyone who wishes to attend my show to attend, but I beg you, be respectful, be kind.”
Ophelia put a bright smile on her face. “Our guests tonight are another mixed core of human, Rynn, and Alsoo. They are also, in a word, heroes.”
She continued, “Hero is an often overused word, but in this case, it fits. All of them have risked their lives more than once, and two of them have been hospitalized with life-threatening injuries. Four of the six nearly died trying to save the people of Atlanta.” She stood. “Ladies and gentlemen: Doctor Joseph Franklin, Red Clouds Paint the Sky, Black Rocks, Frozen River, Light of Three Moons, and Second-Daughter-Fifth-Born.”
The applause that began died as the core came onstage. The first onstage was Franklin in his floater, piloted by Second-Daughter-Fifth-Born. It was obvious that Franklin needed both the floater and the pilot, as his head was propped up with a brace. Following close behind was the rest of his core. They all checked the floater and Franklin before seating themselves.
Ophelia swallowed a couple times before attempting to speak. Her voice broke anyway. “Good evening,” she said.
“Good evening,” the core responded.
“I did not realize that Dr. Franklin was so weak,” Ophelia began.
“It’s his own fault,” Light of Three Moons said in tart tones. “He has a habit of pushing himself beyond his limits,” she said. “Don’t worry. He is much stronger than he appears. He just forgot to eat.” Her crest rose. “Again.”
“Big think split-tail/he, dizzy/think all time/he,” warbled the Alsoo. “Hear/he me not.”
“Nag, nag, nag,” complained Dr. Franklin. He turned to the audience. “Word of advice: if you ever join a core, keep the number of women down to one,” he said. The audience laughed in response. They stopped laughing again when a trembling hand reached up to caress the Alsoo neuter.
“For those who don’t know,” Ophelia Winslow said, “Dr. Franklin was critically injured during a Polig-Grug attack on Earth—an attack he was directly instrumental in thwarting,” she said. “Over the past eighteen years, Dr. Franklin and his core brothers have been in nearly every major battle the combined human–Rynn forces have faced on Earth and in space.
“Frozen River was critically injured in the first battle with the CSA,” she went on. “Red Clouds Paint the Sky and Black Rocks have both been injured several times in smaller yet just as important skirmishes. Heroes all of them.”
She turned to face a camera. “And yet there are some who would condemn them because of who they love,” she said. “One has to ask, considering the amount of hate directed at all of you, why do you continue to protect those who would not do the same?”
“I’m not fighting to protect them,” Dr. Franklin returned sharply. “If I could, I’d feed some of them to the Polig-Grug.” His hands started trembling more. Second-Daughter-Fifth-Born wrapped her tail around his hands until the trembling eased. “Thank you, Core Sister,” he said quietly. “She’s who I’m fighting to protect.” He nodded toward the Alsoo. “Jamal Shadowed Heart and those like him are who I’m fighting to protect,” he continued. “I’m fighting to protect those like me who were forced to live in the shadows—or, worse, forced to deny who and what they were in the name of some deity or other.”
He continued defiantly, “As far as I’m concerned, any deity who condemns someone for who and how they love is a deity that is not worthy of worship.” He took a calming breath. “There was a story about me on a popular website,” he said. “Mostly sympathetic, but they were very critical about a similar comment I had made during an interview. They claimed I was being intolerant of others ‘beliefs.’” He smiled coldly. “Damn right I’m intolerant,” He said.
“Dr. Franklin?” Ophelia asked in shocked surprise.
“I’m intolerant of intolerance,” explained Dr. Franklin. “There are those who consider me and my lifestyle, even my being part of a core, as being immoral.” He turned to look directly at the camera. “I reject your intolerance. I reject your hatred. But mostly I reject your right to your intolerance. You and yours are what me and mine consider the true definition of evil. You will soon be consigned to the dustbin of history, and my fondest wish is to see that day.”
It started with a single person clapping but quickly swelled, and then the entire audience rose to their feet.
“Spirits and ancestors,” Black Rocks said in a whisper. “When our core brother speaks, it’s as if his words are more felt than heard.” He covered his eyes. “Spirits sing, but he is magnificent.”
“We’ll be right back,” said Ophelia Winslow in a hushed voice.
55
THE OPHELIA WINSLOW INTERVIEWS, PART 4: REDEMPTION SONG
“Good evening, everyone,” Ophelia Winslow greeted her studio audience. “And good evening to all those viewing.”
She pursed her lips. “Over the past few weeks, we’ve met three different human/Rynn cores. Each core was unique in its own way, and each core has made comments that were at times thoughtful and at other times almost incendiary,” she said.
“After last week’s interview with Dr. Franklin and his core, I have received more letters, more emails, more tweets, and more comments via nearly all forms of social media than any two shows combined.” She brushed at her hair nervously. “And I have received more death threats and more hate mail than I had received in the last two years,” she said. “I have even been threatened with lawsuits if I brought on any more cores.”
Ophelia lowered her head and placed her hands behind her back. “I have even lost a couple of longtime sponsors.” She raised her head. “Well, to that I say, good riddance,” she said sternly. “When Kasumi Blunt revealed herself and the USA split into four, I became the oligarch and did what I could to keep this country together,” she said. “When the crisis ended, I gladly gave up being the oligarch and returned to being Ophelia Winslow.” She sighed. “But between the split and the reunion, I was the oligarch, and I saw, firsthand, the crimes of the Spencer government. In my arrogance, I did not realize that it wasn’t just the Spencer government; it was each and every one of us who remained silent in the face of one of the most monstrous events in our history.”
Abruptly, she said, “I have an announcement. This is my last show. After last week’s episode, I realized that I wasn’t trying to return to my role as a television host but rather trying to hide from my responsibilities. I may no longer be the oligarch, but that does not mean I no longer have any power, any authority. This is my last show, but this is not going to be the last you will see of me.”
She smiled. “And speaking of last … I’ve saved the best for last. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce my next guest. It is a single guest. I first met him over forty years ago. He helped start me on my path to fame, so it is only fitting that he be here with me in closing the circle. Ladies and gentlemen, Jeremy Blunt.”
&
nbsp; There was only a smattering of applause as an old man walked out onstage. He could have been anywhere from sixty-five to ninety-five, but few would have believed he was at the top of that range. In fact, he was less than a year shy of his one hundredth birthday. Despite his advanced age, he was robust and healthy. His hair had been recently trimmed, and he was freshly shaven. He could have passed for a healthy sixty-year-old.
“Ophelia!” he greeted the television host in obvious pleasure.
“Jeremy,” returned Ophelia. She led him over to a couple of chairs that flanked a small table. She waited until he sat. “You look wonderful,” she gushed.
“Blame the Rynn for that,” Jeremy mock grumped. “Damn Omiset,” he complained cheerfully. “They promised me fifteen years, and here I am going on eighteen extra years.” He chuckled. “Kasumi refuses to apologize too.”
Ophelia laughed in response. “Well, I for one am very glad you’re still around,” she said, and then paused. “It’s going to become a common occurrence, isn’t it?” she said. “Living and functioning well into what we think of as extreme old age?”
“My granddaughter thinks that the human lifespan will eventually double,” he said. “Assuming we don’t completely alienate the Rynn.” He shrugged. “That, unfortunately, still appears to be possible. I doubt that it will happen, but what may happen will be even worse.”
He explained himself. “The more, shall we say, conservative nations are refusing to adopt the use of Omiset and birth-control implants—in fact, most of the purely biological advances being made available—while, at the same time, demanding those technological advances that can be most easily converted to military use.”
“Can’t you tie them together?” asked Ophelia.
“We are, and that’s part of the problem. They are refusing everything, though they are not above stealing what they can.” Jeremy sighed. “We’re going to see humanity divided into two groups: long-lived spacefaring and short-lived earthbound.” He shook his head. “We are already starting to see some instability in a number of nations over it.”
“Instability?” asked Ophelia.
“Imagine knowing that there is a cure for your mother’s cancer, your child’s cystic fibrosis, and then knowing that your country’s government refuses to allow the treatments. Or worse, finding that the treatment itself is considered blasphemy,” Jeremy pointed out. “The Rynn are quite willing to provide the treatments, but you can’t just suddenly double life expectancy and still expect your women to have six or seven children,” he said. “And you can’t just double life expectancy for some imagined elite. Something has to give.”
He rubbed his head. “There have been riots in the Middle East. Riots in the Near East. And riots on the East Coast,” he said. “Remember that woman from your second show?”
Ophelia nodded. “Hard to forget her,” she said.
“She tried to burn down a Rynn clinic the following day.” Jeremy blew out a breath. “Fortunately, the clinic was protected by a force shield.”
“Spirits be praised,” Ophelia said. She frowned at Jeremy’s chuckle. “What?”
“There is a truism about cultural interaction,” he said. “The more advanced culture will tend to replace the less advanced one,” he pointed out. “It’s a tendency, and it’s not always one way, but for some, any indication of cultural … contamination must be stamped out.”
“And I just said ‘spirits be praised,’” Ophelia said in understanding.
“If things continue the way they are, the events of the last decade are going to seem tame in comparison to what will happen,” he said. “At the very least, the Middle East is going to be engulfed in war, half of Europe will devolve into fascism, and the Old South is going to secede, again.”
“Surely something can be done,” Ophelia protested.
“Oh, there are many things that can be done. The question is, do we have the will to do them?” Jeremy shook his head. “We haven’t before, so I am not hopeful we will now.”
Ophelia nodded. “We’ll be right back,” she said gloomily.
“And we’re back,” Ophelia said. “For those who have joined us late, our guest tonight is the Teacher, Jeremy Blunt,” she said. “We have already discussed the somewhat grim future that may be ahead of us. Mr. Blunt, is there anything positive that we can expect?”
“Positive?” Jeremy replied. “Oh, many things—long life, exploring the stars, new worlds, new people,” he said. “It isn’t that these things won’t happen, it’s a matter of how many will live to see it and share in the bounty that is sure to come. Make no mistake: humanity will colonize the stars. Humanity will experience a golden age that will dwarf anything that has come before. The question is, what will be the price?”
Jeremy stood and faced the audience. “Each and every one of you here and each and every one of you watching has in your hands a choice. You can accept what the Rynn offer or you can reject it,” he said. “And there are those, maybe even here in this room, who would deny you that choice. There are those who may tell you that it is a choice between heaven and hell. And they are right.” He raised a quelling hand. “Just not in the way they think.”
He explained, “Ophelia has introduced you to three different cores. Every one of the humans in those cores chose to accept what the Rynn offered,” he pointed out. “You met a young man who was abused by those who called him a slave because of the color of his skin. You met another man who trained to become a killer, and you met a third man who denied who and what he was.” He nodded. “Each one, in his own way, considered himself damned.” Then Jeremy pressed a hand against his chest. “And me—killer by trade, slave to duty, and one who denied that he was either a slave or a killer,” he said. “Damned and thrice damned was I.”
Ophelia’s hand went to her mouth, and she watched in awe as Jeremy captured the attention of everyone in the audience. If silence was any indicator, the capture was complete and unshakeable.
“The price I paid was my wife, my son, and my freedom,” Jeremy declared. “I knew that on the day I died, the gates of hell would open and consume my soul.” His voice took on a preacher’s cadence. “I knew that there could never be, would never be, should never be redemption for such as I.” Jeremy’s arms spread to the sides. “And then I found a star child and found in her my own redemption. A star child I almost did not find because I had almost skipped taking my daily walk.”
He clapped his hands together twice, sharply. “I am Jeremy Blunt, and I call on our shared ancestors as witness. With the Rynn’s help, we saved the Alsoo—but it was close, so close. One day, one single day, and it would have been too late.”
He continued. “I know my adoptive granddaughter’s people do not believe in fate, but can any of you look at the Alsoo and deny that the hand of fate was involved? Can any of you look at the Alsoo and deny that Hendriks and Jamal and Joseph by their actions were well and truly redeemed?” He lowered his hands. “They were willing to pay the price for their redemption. But I know them, and I know that they would have paid it regardless, even if there were no redemption, because it was the right thing, the only thing to do.”
He smiled. “The choice they had was to accept what the Rynn offered or reject it. The choice they had was to save the Alsoo or let them perish. Redemption or damnation. That choice is now yours.”
Silence greeted Jeremy’s final words, and he turned and sat down opposite Ophelia. It took several moments before Ophelia even realized that Jeremy had stopped speaking and several moments more before she trusted her voice to not crack. “I think this is a good time to take a break,” she said quietly.
“Spirits and ancestors,” Kasumi whispered. “He truly is the First Teacher reborn.” She chirped, and the Torque stopped playing the recording from Ophelia’s show. She chirped again. “This is Captain Kasumi: I am placing the colony on full alert,” she said. “No one is to leave t
he colony without fully charged shields. Colony shields to remain at full power and full coverage until further notice. All leaves are cancelled. Recall all colony personnel. We are on full alert. Repeat, full alert.”
“Are you sure about this, Kasumi?” David Eisenstadt asked calmly.
“No, I’m not sure, David,” Kasumi replied. “But if Germy is truly the First Teacher reborn or even if he is just …” Kasumi paused. “I was about to say, even if he is just a Great Teacher and realized how stupid that would sound,” she said. “He is indeed a Great Teacher, and in our history, whenever a Great Teacher issued such a challenge, violence was sure to follow.”
“Human history is not much different,” Mel agreed.
“I wasn’t disagreeing with Kasumi, I just asked if she was sure,” Eisenstadt countered. He tapped his Torque. “All stations report on full alert status,” he ordered. “I want the location of all off-colony personnel verified, including the Alsoo, and I want retrieval teams on hot standby,” he ordered. “High Flyer Command, I want the birds circling immediately.”
Klaxons started sounding throughout the colony and on all the defense satellites. The mixed squads of human and Rynn were suddenly wearing war paint, and inside the Alsoo burrow Sidewinder Squad members were donning their armor.
“Go/me this time,” Cobra said to his mate, Sunrise. His tail wrapped comfortingly around his suddenly frightened mate. “Safe/be you. Safe/be hatchlings.” He put on his helmet and adjusted the chin strap with hands sure with long practice. He tapped the side of his helmet “Sidewinder Squad assemble,” he warbled. He grabbed his spear, slithered out of his chamber, and started up the long tunnel to the surface. As he traveled, he was joined by the other members of the Sidewinder Squad.
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