Archive: All my stories can be found at my personal page at : http://pages.prodigy.net/tinap/ and http://members.xoom.com/TinaPrice
Preview: Amid the rolling hills and monoliths of Strandhill, two very different people mature. One must wrestle with regret while the other questions his very place in the world.
Rated PG-13
Disclaimer: Earth - Final Conflict, all characters and images therein, as well as story elements put forth in the series are the property of the Tribune Entertainment Company. Several characters appearing in this story are my own creation. Any similarity with anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
Authors notes: There is a chart at the end of this
story which lists all the old Celtic names I've used as well as their
pronounciations and meaning. This story refers back to events which have ocurred
in several of my other EFC stories, most notably "Singled Out".
I want to thank each
and every reader who has written to me to say how much they've enjoyed this
story series. Your support and sincerity is wonderful and you've given me both
honest feedback and the confidence to keep on writing. As usual, advice,
criticism and kudos are welcomed.
Once again, major MAJOR kudos to my wonderful Beta reader, Janet Spruill White. I could not have done nearly as
well without her. Her patience and hard work in editing my stories can never be
adequately repaid. We've worked together 'live' online many a long night in
order to post promised stories on time and we also chat nearly every week. After
two years I feel as though I know her so very well. She is a true and dear
friend - and to think that we have yet to actually meet each other face to face!
(Don't worry Jan, I'm headed up your way soon).
The very premise of "Perchance"
came about as a result of one of Jan's own original story ideas involving Zo'or
and Nivian. If you enjoy it, please write and let her know! You can drop her a
line, at this address: mailto:_lablanche@yahoo.com.
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time...
It is only
now, after living so many very long, lonely years, that I regret the things I've
done in my former incarnation.
Though I know that the
odds are against this pitiful collection of my writings ever falling into the
proper hands - and indeed, that it is most likely unsafe to take such risks, I
cannot help but continue. Despite the years, I fervently hope that those I left
behind will read these tattered, crude pages and finally know what became of
me.
...And also learn of my
regret.
For I do miss my former
life. More than any could possibly guess or think me capable of.
I've
grown. I've aged and matured, and yet because of my heritage, those changes are
all within - where none may see them.
I understand now the
wisdom of my former mentor - how the years shaped her and molded her.
How the
mere act of living softened her.
And oh, how I've
suffered!
I've seen so many whom
I've grown to care for, age and die. And I've had to isolate myself from all but
a very few, to hide from them the truth of my condition - that I may yet live
another millennium and still appear the same on the day that my mortal form
passes to the next plane.
Worst of all has been
my yearning for two that I have truly loved - my beautiful Nivian, whom I've
left behind, and my adopted child, Braedan, who left his mortal existence
several centuries past.
All that is left for me
now is to hide away, to be nothing more than an isolated onlooker, as life goes
on around me...
My greatest hope now,
besides my continued one that I be rescued, is that this planet and its true
inhabitants will survive the future arrival of my kind - and my own youthful
foolishness.
Lili stood
within the ruins of the Strandhill exhibition room and watched as the Taelon
carefully examined the remains of the stone portal. The truth was that she
wished she was elsewhere - that she was back at the hospital with everyone else.
Da'an lay as close to death as a Taelon could be without actually crossing over
and Boone lay exhausted and unconscious within the same room, suffering from
multiple broken bones as well as internal injuries. Every attempt to move the
Commander any distance from Da'an had resulted in a sudden unconscious thrashing
about on his part and a worsening of Da'an's condition.
Yes, she wished she
were back aboard the home ship, watching over them, but she also knew she'd just
be in the way.
Best to investigate
Braedan and Zo'or's disappearance with the hope of bringing them back some good
news.
Liam had volunteered to do this, but she had convinced him that his place was in
guarding the North American Companion and her Consort. It was his place, his
purpose as Da'an's protector and there really was no way of knowing exactly how
many Jaridians had made it to Earth.
"Captain
Marquette."
Lili swiveled around at
the sound of her name and moved to join Kha'rha. "What is it?"
The Taelon let out a
human-like sigh. The portal was indeed activated.
"Then they're alive."
Her relief was short lived.
"Maybe."
"What do you
mean, maybe?"
"If they ended up in
the future, then we may yet catch up with them, but I hope that this is not the
case."
"Why?"
"Because they may be far in the future and we have no way of determining what
year."
"But, couldn't they simply get to another portal and come back?" she asked, her
brows drawing together in puzzlement.
"That's assuming that
the Taelons still survive. I think that if that were the case, they would be
back with us already." At her despondent look, he laid a hand on her shoulder.
"I believe that it is more likely that they are in the past, which at least
allows us a slight chance of staging a rescue."
"But if they've gone
back, wouldn't they have changed history in some way?"
"Not necessarily. Zo'or
would understand the importance of not disrupting the time continuum, which
ironically enough, will also make searching for them difficult."
Lili felt
dizzy. The thought of Zo'or in a position in which he could influence humanity -
perhaps at a time when the species was very susceptible and superstitious was
not a pleasant thought.
"I understand why you
said that they might not be alive now," she sighed. "If they went far back in
time, they're already dead. Here's what's bothering me; if they were supposed to
go back, then we'd be changing our own past by rescuing them, wouldn't
we?"
"If that is the case, then yes, you are correct..."
The two of them swung
around and found themselves staring at Nivian, who was squatting down amongst
the portal's ruins, a large fragment in her hands. She was staring at it in a
daze, her face pale and her eyes watery.
Lili looked over at
Kha'rha and was surprised by the pity she saw upon his face. He turned his
towards her and she could see his eyes glowing brightly behind his human
facade.
"...And that is why
Taelons do not tempt fate by traveling through time," he added.
"Will."
The voice was
soft and familiar and try as he might, he couldn't ignore it.
"Sarah?" he asked, and
was shocked at the shakiness of his own voice. When he opened his eyes,
everything was briefly out of focus. Then his eyes settled down and there she
was - smiling down at him.
"Hey, big brother," she
whispered. "I thought you grew out of sleeping in?"
For a moment he was
deeply confused and then...
"Da'an!" He called out
frantically as he struggled to sit up, but several pairs of hands were laid upon
him, gently pushing him back down and holding him still.
"Will, relax," Sarah
demanded in a calm, soothing voice, as Liam and the nurse let go of him. "We'll
let you up in a minute, but you have a broken leg."
He stopped fighting.
"Where am I? Where's Da'an?"
"Will..."
"Oh God,
please don't tell me she's dead!" He could hear his own voice threatening to
break. "Sarah, I can't feel her!"
"She's here, Will. I
promise you that you'll see her." She rubbed his shoulder. "First, you need to
know what's going on. First of all, you're on the home ship..."
"Sarah, I know that
Braedan is lost in time with Zo'or," he replied. "I remember everything that
happened."
"Good. I'm glad that I
don't need to tell you then." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm so sorry for you. I
know what it's like to lose..."
"Hey." He pulled her
down to him and hugged her close. "You and I have been through so much together.
I know you understand." He gently rubbed her back and then pushed her to arm's
length. "Now let me see Da'an."
She nodded. "She's
right here, Will. The doctors couldn't move you to another room. Every time they
tried, her vitals would start to bottom out."
As he sat up, she moved
aside and his breath caught in his throat as he saw the tank behind her.
"Nooooo...."
The word emerged as an agonized hiss. Still, his heart skipped painfully as his
own memories of the horrible, but life-saving device resurfaced.
With barely a
thought for his wounded, casted leg, he swung his feet off the bed and began
hobbling forward.
"Wait!" In a second,
Sarah was beside him, pulling his arm over her shoulders so he could use her
like a crutch. "Lean on me," she entreated.
"Always.".
After
hobbling a short distance across the room, he laid his hands upon the cool,
clear tank and watched its floating inhabitant for any sign of motion. There
wasn't any. She was unconscious, but though her form was still a transparent
blue, her pathways showed some signs of activity as dim sparks of light traced
slowly beneath her flesh. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. Still he could not
feel his lover's presence.
"How bad is it?" he
asked, feeling suddenly as though it was beyond hope.
"Da'an's situation is
in fact a very fortunate one," came a familiar voice from his right.
Turning his
head, he saw Dro'vha enter the room, followed by Lili, Augur and Kha'rha. They
moved toward Liam, who was near the side of the tank.
The Pacific Companion
came to him and held out a hand, an invitation to share. Without hesitation,
Boone placed his own palm against it and began to live the events of the last
few days from Dro'vha's point of view.
For a brief moment in
time, he became the Companion who had once served as his own aide.
He saw
himself summoned by the Synod and relived his refusal to attend a formal Synod
meeting until he assured himself that Da'an was receiving the best of care. His
kind were well known for letting nature take her course rather than expending
any resources to save the lives of certain political rivals.
When he had entered the
medical section and located the fallen Taelon, he was shocked by her appearance
- and the lack of treatment she was receiving. She had been laid out upon a
pallet and left there as several scientists simply hovered nearby.
If Zo'or was
lost in the portal, as he had heard, then Da'an was next in line as Synod
leader, which, he supposed, explained the situation.
Turning toward the
lower ranked Taelons, he had demanded that they bring in a tank, but they had
balked, insisting that they had been ordered to take no further measures to save
the fallen Companion. Outraged, he swung about to face them and would surely
have put them in their place, when a new voice was heard at the doorway.
"And now you have two Synod members telling you to fetch the
tank," Kha'rha had said, in a scathing
tone. "Will you dare
to refuse again?"
The cowed scientists had instantly answered that they would
not refuse and had moved off to do as they were told.
He had been relieved at
having Kha'rha on hand, but there had been no time to waste on
pleasantries.
"Where is Boone?" he had asked.
"Dr. Belman is transporting him now,"
Kha'rha had answered. "I believe that we have both reached
the same conclusion."
"Yes. His presence may make
all the difference. Surely she will find it more difficult to leave us knowing
that he will be left alone with the knowledge that their child is
missing."
"Exactly. Now tell me,
how is it that Da'an has survived a hit by a Jaridian weapon?"
Kha'rha had asked, as he moved to
stand on the other side of the pallet.
"Ironically enough, her regression to a more human physiology may
be the reason for her survival," he had answered. "She is far less energy based than we and the Jaridian weapons are
designed to disrupt energy."
"Yet Boone himself has
been injured by the blast."
"True. The weapon does
damage matter based organisms, however, it is far less lethal to them than to
us. Had Zo'or been the one to be hit, he would have been vaporized on the
spot."
Kha'rha had looked troubled.
"The Jaridians singled out Da'an. This means
that they know the truth of our separation from them," he had said in a voice which was nearly a whisper. "They also knew of her
offspring. They are close, very close to our sector now and determined to
obliterate us and any humans whom we have influenced."
"Yes.
Let us hope that we shall do what is best for both Taelon and human. Better that
we face the Jaridians elsewhere than allow this world to die with
us."
They had both looked down at Da'an then, but it had been Kha'rha
who had spoken. "Then we must save Da'an. This
began with her line and she must be the one to end it. I do believe that fate
had a hand in removing her rival from this place and time. Now it is up to you
to see to it that she lives to fulfill her role in this."
In just seconds, Boone watched himself being
wheeled into the room as Da'an was carefully placed within the healing tank. He
had himself suffered several injuries and been nearly depleted by the skrill
blasts he had fired. Belman had recommended that he be sedated for a few days,
telling the two Companions that he was sure to be out of bed and working at
retrieving Braedan as soon as he awoke.
The sharing ended and
he allowed his palm to drop away from Dro'vha's. "Thank you - both of you - for
saving her," he addressed the Companions.
In answer, they both
bowed their heads briefly.
"You realize, of
course, that the information you've shared with me has just raised many more
questions in my mind?" he asked Dro'vha.
"Yes. And we are
prepared to answer them if need be," the Pacific Companion replied. "However, I
believe it would be best to wait until Da'an has emerged from her
ordeal."
"Then she's going to
live?" He could barely contain the hope which flared within him.
Dro'vha
nodded and smiled gently. "She will live."
"But that is not
enough," Kha'rha cut in. "She must be awake and able to function soon, or
another will be elected as Synod Leader."
Boone frowned. "Is it
OK for me to leave the room?"
Dro'vha exchanged looks
with Kha'rha. "We were wondering that ourselves. Perhaps Da'an is well enough
that it will not matter."
"Try," Kha'rha
encouraged him.
Lili stepped forward
and handed him a pair of crutches she had retrieved from a corner.
Taking them,
he released Sarah and slowly made his way towards the door.
"Keep going. Her
readouts are still acceptable," Dro'vha encouraged.
A few more feet and he was
standing outside the door. He was about to ask if everything was still all right
when he heard the voice he loved most echo in his mind. It was faint, almost
sleepy sounding, but it was there.
<"Find our child,"> it
said.
Making a quick return
to the room, he demanded his clothes and then headed toward a more private area
to get dressed.
"Boone, what do you
think you're doing?" Lili asked, from the other side of the wall which screened
him from view.
"I'm going to try and
find my son," he answered. "I heard Da'an just now. She asked me to look for
him. She's going to be OK."
"Boone, I don't know
if..."
"Don't say it Lili! I
don't care what you've heard, I have to try anyway. If you want to help, then
please stay here with Da'an. Make sure no one tries to vaporize her while I'm
gone."
"Look, you can take me
or you can take Liam. One of us will remain here to guard Da'an," she said, and
he heard her check her weapon. "But the other is going to make certain that you
don't over do it and end up back in a hospital bed," she added. "Besides, for
all we know, there could be another Jaridian wandering about looking for your
head. The Taelons found their ship - and it was a THREE-seater!"
"The probe was the
third occupant," he reasoned.
"Maybe, but there's a
cargo area and it could have been transported there," she snapped
back.
He hobbled out from
behind the screen and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I knew I could count on
you." Turning, he motioned to his sister. "Come on Sarah, I'm sure that Dro'vha
won't mind giving you a lift home after he drops me off at the
Embassy."
"Not at all," the
Pacific Companion assured them, as he followed them from the room.
Naoise's Journal:
I remember my
arrival in this place as though it were but yesterday, but then, how could I not
recall the split second decision which was to change my entire existence? In
truth, I have often thought about those few seconds which brought me through the
singularity.
What if I had never
entered the display room which contained the exhibit? What if I had never run,
but rather, taken Braedan and hidden us only a few doors away? What if I had
never attended the conference?
In the end, it matters
not. I chose a path which brought me here and there is no retracing my
steps.
But I diverge. I had
meant to write of my arrival in this time...
After spending
the better part of an hour sitting upon the base of the portal, Zo'or finally
decided to go in search of the humans he hoped still lived nearby. In the end
the decision had proven fairly easy to make. Although he was not human, could
never hope to pass for one and might therefore face some hostility, perhaps even
death at their hands, Braedan required the sustenance only they could provide.
Best to go now, before the infant began crying with hunger.
Cradling the infant
against him, he set out across the field in the direction in which the future
town of Strandhill was located. The stone monoliths in the field were reassuring
in some ways, for they were proof that he was at least somewhere fairly
familiar.
As he continued on, he
eventually reached a place in the clearing in which a small dirt path had been
worn, no doubt, by myriad human feet. Stepping onto it, he followed its course
through the woods at the edge of the clearing.
Approximately a mile
later, he reached the other end of the tree line and stopped to peer cautiously
out at what lay ahead of him.
A small village
comprised of approximately a dozen or so huts existed in a small clearing. Most
had thin trails of dark smoke spiraling up from openings in the centers of their
roofs, although a few also had fire pits outside where women were cooking or
cleaning skins.
Zo'or noticed the
length of the shadows upon the ground and with a glance at the top of the tree
line, realized for the first time that it was growing late. Although he had left
his time in the late morning hours, he had apparently arrived here in the late
afternoon. It would soon be dark and these superstitious humans would most
likely refuse to open their doors and homes to a stranger with a baby
then.
What should be his course of action?
Feeling far removed
from the confident Synod Leader he had been just that morning, he glanced down
at the baby in his arms.
Braedan was already
beginning to fuss. Come to think of it, the child's bottom felt sodden...
Perhaps he
should circle the village and then decide.
Moving back farther
into the tree line, he cautiously began his circumnavigation.
It was slow going. He
had to take care to make as little noise as possible and the many fallen sticks
and leaves seemed to have piled up in all the places he most wished to tread. By
the time he reached the back end of the village, he knew he had run out of time.
Braedan had begun to cry.
Trying desperately to
quiet the infant, he placed him up on his shoulder and opened a link to his
young mind.
The child stopped
crying as soon as he comprehended Zo'or's anxious need for quiet. He lay there
upon his elder's shoulder, and cramming a small fist into his mouth, began
gnawing on it in teary eyed silence. Now and then he would hiccup and a small
quiver would shake him as he suppressed his urge to wail.
Zo'or's relief was
short lived.
A new presence
whispered to him through the now-barren Commonality link. With a shock, his head
jerked around, his eyes torn from their perusal of the infant to focus instead
upon the source of the new thoughts.
Moving slowly through
the village in his direction was what appeared to be an old man. He wore shabby,
worn out robes which had faded to various hues of brown and he leaned heavily
upon a cane. A large hood was thrown over his head, screening his face from
view, but Zo'or knew it could be but one person.
Only a Taelon like
himself would have blue eyes which glowed in the darkness of such a cowl and
only one Taelon was known to have lived in Earth's past.
"Ma'el," Zo'or
whispered aloud.
<"And you are the child of Deh'r,"> came Ma'el's thoughts in his head.
They were anything but weak and the power which resonated with them sent a
thrill through him.
Almost without thinking
what he was doing, he left the tree line and moved forward to meet Da'an's
parent.
Ma'el stopped directly
before him and lowered his hood, revealing a face which was the same as Da'an's
in every way. "How came you
here?" he asked in the one language they both
spoke.
Zo'or held his hand out, palm outward. It would be faster to share the events
leading up to his arrival.
Without hesitation,
Ma'el accepted the invitation, joining their palms together.
Immediately Zo'or felt
him drawing on his memories, triggering a reliving of the events which led up to
his arrival in this time. It didn't stop there, however, as Ma'el pulled harder
on his store of knowledge, seeking information about his past. Try as he might,
he could not resist the older Taelon's formidable mind and within seconds his
life was laid bare.
The sharing ended as Ma'el withdrew his hand and Zo'or again
became aware of his surroundings.
The expression on the
elder Taelon's face was neither condemning nor judgmental. "You have saved this
child at great risk to yourself," he said, shocking Zo'or with the realization
that he now spoke perfect English.
"You are welcomed here
and I will aid you in any way I may," Da'an's parent continued.
"Can you release the
locks upon the portal?"
Ma'el glanced upwards.
"It is about to storm. Come, we shall continue this conversation within the
shelter of my abode." Turning, he started back the way he had originally come
and did not even glance back to see if he was being followed.
Feeling slightly
overwhelmed, Zo'or stood his ground for a moment until a splash of cold liquid
on his cheek startled him into action. Moving forward, he followed his new guide
and after thinking about it, rushed to catch up to him. After all, it might
prove unwise to allow the rest of the villagers to think that he was stalking
him.
After a short walk through the village, Ma'el led the way through a doorway
which was set into the side of a large rise in the ground.
Zo'or glanced upward
outside the door and reflected that the mound was most likely a natural hill in
which one side had been sheared away vertically by the native inhabitants. Long
grass, scrub and trees competed for space on its top and large roots actually
helped frame the doorway.
Suddenly, the crude
fabric which hung over entrance was swept aside and a dour looking woman stuck
her head out. She glared fiercely at him and then withdrew as Ma'el's voice
called out in the ancient Celtic language which the villagers spoke.
Deciding that no human was going
to put him off with a mere look, he clutched Braedan closer to his chest and
entered the crude dwelling.
It
was as appalling as he had feared. The floor was nothing more than dirt, the
interior walls and ceiling were nothing more than soil braced back by small
wooden tree limbs and other smaller thatch. Crude furnishings were also derived
from the parts of unfortunate trees. A small stone cooking area was placed
beneath the only opening in the ceiling and smoke still collected near the
overhead beams, stinging his eyes and making the infant in his arms cough.
"Give
the infant to me." The words were spoken softly, but in an
authoritative voice which Zo'or instantly obeyed, despite himself. Instantly, he
regretted so easily relinquishing his charge and made to snatch him back.
Ma'el eluded his hands and turned
away, moving towards the rickety chairs in front of the fire. "Do not be foolish," he chided over his shoulder.
"This infant requires nourishment which Gobnait, my
other, will procure for it. Before I hand him over to her care, I wish to study
him more closely." Ma'el sat and held the infant up before him, a
perplexed look transfiguring his face.
In a daze, Zo'or moved to stand
beside him. "Did you say that old the hag was your
other?"
Without sparing him a glance, the older Taelon continued his
perusal of the baby. "Gobnait was not always
old, narrow-minded one. Once she was young and beautiful and she has given up
much to remain with me. I only wish the life we have shared had not been such a
burden to her." His voice trailed off as he
lowered the infant to his knees and raised amazed eyes to meet Zo'or's own.
"This infant is of my line..."
Zo'or nodded. "It is Da'an's child - one sired by a human male."
Ma'el looked as though he had
received the severest of blows. His features blurred and were replaced by his
Taelon features, but his inner light glowed very weakly, flickering faintly
before his human face once more appeared.
With a shock, Zo'or realized that
the elder Taelon was at the end of his days. He had perhaps a few weeks left to
him - if that.
A rare feeling of
pity welled up within him and moving forward, he steadied the shaking scientist,
going to a knee so that he could meet his eyes. "What
is it which troubles you so? I also once thought it a terrible a thing that
Da'an had mixed her line with that of a human, and yet I now
believe...?"
"That is not what has
shocked me," Ma'el interrupted, as he visibly
calmed himself. "So you once viewed such a
union as terrible?"
"I did, but no longer,"
he admitted. "The child is special - special enough to cause the Jaridians to
seek its death."
"Yes. And so you have
landed in my time and place." Switching to
the local language, Ma'el addressed his other, who then took the infant from him
and left the dwelling.
Rising slowly to his
feet, the Old One shuffled to the door and stood there watching as the woman
walked off and disappeared between the huts even as the first large drops of
rain began to fall.
"Fate is a cruel keeper indeed," Ma'el whispered.
"What do you mean?" Zo'or was
instantly on guard, afraid that some plot was afoot to separate him permanently
from Braedan.
Ma'el switched to
English. "It was remiss of me to have only scanned your history during our
sharing," he said with a shake of his head. "Tell me of Braedan's father. I
gather that he was the red-headed human standing upon the stage beside my
child?"
"Yes. His name is
William Boone."
Only then did Zo'or
notice that Ma'el was clutching at the back of a chair. It shook him to his core
to see a tear slowly wind its way down the elder Taelon's face.
"Sit yourself beside
me," Ma'el continued after several moments spent trying to regain his composure.
"We have much to talk about."
Slowly shuffling his way into the
audience chamber, Boone moved to the main console and paused to catch his
breath. The truth of the matter was that Lili's fears were well justified. He
was in bad shape.
"You still OK?"
she asked, looking him over critically.
He straightened up and forced his
face into a stony expression. "Only winded."
"I bet. You do have a few busted
ribs."
"Great. What is it with me
and my ribs lately? I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever have them all healed at
the same time," he gasped, removing one hand from his crutch long enough to
press it against his tortured side.
"Think of it as the down side of
the job." Turning away from him, she pulled out her global and activated it. "Is
he here yet?" he heard her say to whoever was on the screen. "Well, go ahead and
send him in already!"
"Who have
you sent for?" he asked, irritated by her duplicity.
"The person who's been running
the investigation while you've been laid up." She snapped the global shut and
glared at him. "I dare you to say you're displeased with his work."
He opened his mouth to retort
when the tapping of approaching shoes caught his attention. Looking up, he was
amazed to see Lazarus enter the room.
Without hesitation, the man, a
strange hybrid of Boone's own personality and memories merged together with his
own, approached and looked him up and down. "You look like crap," he said
matter-of-factly.
Boone snorted,
enjoying the blunt truth over all the sympathy he had been receiving. "Thank
you," he said, with a rueful grin. "May I add that you are definitely not
looking like crap."
"Oh, this?"
Lazarus raised an eyebrow and pulled his jacket open so that his shirt and tie
were more apparent. "Just a little perk, care of my new employers."
"You know - you never did tell me
who those employers were..."
Lazarus smiled. "No. I didn't."
Seeing that no more information would be offered, Boone felt his eyes widen as a
possible explanation for the silence presented itself. "Riiiiggghhhtttt....." he
drawled. "I think I see what's going on..."
"I'm sure that you do, but that's
enough about me. Let's talk about your son and the investigation I've been
heading."
As Lazarus turned and
headed for the large windows, Boone shuffled along at his side. "What have you
learned?" he asked, as anxiety welled up within him.
The pale haired man shook his
head ever so slightly. "Not much, I'm afraid. Many of the Strandhill artifacts
were destroyed or heavily damaged along with the monolithic portal. We can piece
together the sequence of events leading up to the last Jaridian's death, but..."
He looked Boone squarely in the eye. "You know that it would be virtually
impossible to discover where in time the two of them have gone, even under ideal
circumstances."
Boone swallowed.
"I don't think the artifacts would help us anyway. We have no way of telling
what about them - or the world around us - has changed since Zo'or and Braedan
traveled back. We've changed along with the time continuum."
"I first thought that as well,
Will." Lazarus' eyes remain steadfastly glued to his own. "Fortunately, in the
time since the 'disruption', I've come up with a possible long shot which might
help us to locate our two time travelers."
Boone's eyes followed Lazarus' as
they suddenly turned to take in the far entranceway.
They widened when he saw Nivian
standing there, her hands folded before her. Though pale and thin, she had a
determined look on her face which instantly raised his hopes.
Before he could move, she closed
the distance between them and throwing her arms around him, hugged him soundly
"Thank goodness that you're all
right," she whispered near his ear, sounding perilously close to tears.
Naoise's Journal:
What
can I say of the things I learned from Ma'el the night I arrived within his
time?
That it shocked me to
hear the bitter regret apparent in the tone of his voice when he spoke of his
denial of granting his human other a child? That I was surprised by the self
mocking laugh which he gave when he told me of his certainty that Braedan was
the child he and his other should have had? That I was shocked by his absolute
certainty that he had made a grievous error in assuming that it would not be
prudent to allow the birth of a human/Taelon hybrid?
Yes. I felt all those
things and more. More than I can even convey within this journal. Time has
dimmed much of the impact of that first night, and yet I can still recall the
way all my past schemes and plans crumbled in the face of Ma'el's depiction of
my people's true origins.
I did not want to
believe what I was hearing and made to run from the hut, but he was still quick
for his age and desperation had leant him a surprising strength. As I attempted
to pass him, he grasped my arm and forced upon me a sharing which left me
shattered. There could be no doubt of the truth of what he was telling me, for
Ma'el, the greatest archaeological scientist of my people, had uncovered the
factual truth about the genesis of my people. He had dared to travel back to the
home world - the original home world of my race and there pieced together the
fragments of our beginnings amongst the decaying remains of what had once been a
living planet.
"So, you believe that Nivian's
bond with Zo'or might allow her to more easily tell what has changed in our
present reality?" William Boone had a worried look fixed upon the doctor even as
he addressed Lazarus.
The three
of them were standing before the windows, as the sun set across the white
monuments. Lili had already excused herself and gone on ahead to what was left
of the Strandhill collection.
"Think about it. The only ones who would retain any knowledge of the previous
time line would be Zo'or and Braedan. They are out of the loop, so to speak, and
therefore immune to the changes their presence in the past may have caused."
"I understand that, but do you
really think that Nivian's link with Zo'or can transcend time?"
Nivian laid a hand upon his
shoulder. "I believe that it may," she said in a barely audible tone. "I've had
dreams - very vivid dreams which I cannot otherwise explain. It is as though I
am living someone else's life - someone named Naoise."
"Naoise?" Boone looked past her
towards Lazarus.
"I believe it's
a Celtic name, but I've yet to uncovered any reference to it," the other man
answered.
Boone took Nivian's
hand off his shoulder and held it with both of his. "Do you think that Naoise is
Zo'or?" he asked.
She shook her
head and only then did he note how pale she looked and how dark the circles
beneath her eyes were. "It must be," she answered simply. "The person whose life
I am reliving cares for Braedan."
His breath seemed to be sucked from him as she uttered the sentence and he
couldn't help but convulsively squeeze her hand. "Is he...?" He literally ran
out of air and could not finish.
"He is thriving - in my dreams," she hastily replied, looking alarmed at his
current state.
As he pressed a
hand to his side and struggled to breathe, Lazarus rubbed his back. "Hey come
on," he encouraged. "Your son seems to have made it in one piece and the damned
Synod Leader is apparently doing a good job of raising him. I really think that
you should take a day or two and rest - in bed, or you won't be able to help him
get back here where he belongs."
He averted his face and wiped at his eyes. "You may be right about me needing a
day or two," he eventually said. A sudden cough threatened to destroy his
ribcage and he found himself lightheaded again. Controlling the grimace which
nearly made him bite the insides of his cheeks, he turned back to face them.
"But, where exactly in time does my son belong and are we doing the right thing
by bringing him back?"
Nivian's
eyes widened in dismay at his words, but Lazarus dropped his head and looked
away - a sure sign that he too had been thinking the same thing.
"Then we'll do what we can to get
them back," his strange doppleganger stated. "and fate alone will decide what
Braedan's destiny may be." Pulling one of Boone's arms over his shoulder, he
began to lead him from the chamber. "Come on. Let's get you up to your bed."
Behind them Nivian sank onto the
ledge before the window and dropped her face into her hands.
Boone heard her quiet weeping as
they left the room and felt his heart lurching painfully yet again. Would they
have to sacrifice their loved ones for a greater good? What would he tell Da'an?
She would surely understand, but would she be able to give up the fight if need
be? She had only barely survived the attack at the news conference and the
knowledge that their child was in trouble had been largely responsible for the
fight she had waged against dying.
Whatever would he do?
"Just take it one step at a
time," Lazarus whispered.
Naoise's Journal:
We Taelon's have
always believed that our destiny is of our own making - no doubt due to the fact
that we exist as a species simply because we chose to. We tore ourselves free of
our original forms, leaving behind those elements we found abhorrent. The baser
instincts - greed, subterfuge, lust, hatred - all these we sought to abandon and
along with them the physical forms which helped to perpetuate those
urges.
The elite among our
species were chosen to undergo the process which would freed them from their
original forms - evolving them into an enlightened and superior ruling class who
would lead the others into the future. This journey forward would ensure that
all of our kind would eventually evolve to follow them.
It is said that if one
looks hard enough, that every plan can be found to contain a fatal flaw. So it
was with our plan for accelerating our own evolution.
As each chosen member
of our original species underwent the process and stepped forth from the light,
a second new being appeared and stepped backward. My ancestors knew that there
was the possibility that some organic remnant of their original form might be
left behind, however they never expected it to live, let alone remain in a
cohesive and sentient form. Their shock at such an unexpected outcome was
obviously not enough to deter them from completing their agenda, for every one
of the selected individuals were thus separated into the higher life form now
known as a Taelon and an insane, atavistic version of their former
selves.
The atavistic forms
looked more like the original individuals than their newer, Taelon forms did and
each was taken in by their family and cared for as though it still were the
being they had bid farewell to that morning. Ironically, the new Taelons refused
to have anything to do with their families, having suddenly found themselves
above such things as flesh, jealousy and hatred or even love, devotion and
compassion.
This reinforced the
illusion that the devolved forms were all that was left of the original
volunteers. The families slowly managed to rehabilitate the devolved shells of
their loved ones and the abominations actually recovered the ability to speak
and function - to some extent - within society. Unfortunately, at their core
they were the polar opposites of the newly formed Taelons; lustful, hate-filled,
devious and above all - vengeful.
Meanwhile, the new
Taelon ruling class began to form their own views of what the future should be.
The rest of the population was soon deemed a burden - an insurmountable obstacle
to their own evolution. While keeping up their expected task of running the
government and giving the impression that they were bettering the planet, they
began, at first quite secretly, to multiply so that an original two hundred
Taelons soon gave way to four hundred. Not two years later we numbered eight
hundred and by the time ten of our planetary rotations had passed, we Taelons
numbered sixty four hundred. We had diverted resources to the construction of
ships which only we planned to use and we had gathered together an army of loyal
servants to protect us.
Our planet of origin
quickly became a military state, though this too was cleverly hidden from its
people.
On a clear, beautiful
morning only a decade after our birth, we took to the stars, leaving behind a
planet in chaos, its precious resources squandered, it's population left to
either starve or kill each other for what little was left.
Truly, our
home planet was thought doomed and it was actually hoped that its population
would quickly die off, leaving a usable planet which we might one day return to.
Ah, if we could have but guessed...
The planet was
eventually abandoned by our primitive ancestors, but not before the atavistic
castoffs of our birth began breeding with our original species. How this could
have occurred is anyone's guess. Perhaps a new hybrid was first conceived as a
result of rape and found to be the ultimate warrior. Perhaps the hatred the
surviving population felt toward us led them to desire the birth of more such
offspring.
It matters not how it
began. What does matter is that after many generations a new race emerged on our
decimated home world - a race of powerful, remorseless, and vengeful
warriors.
The
Jaridians.
"Can you actually... feel him?"
Boone straightened the pillows behind his head and tried to get comfortable. On
the bed around him were scattered dozens of books pertaining to the history of
the Strandhill area of Ireland.
Nivian shifted in the chair which she had pulled up to the bed and traded her
book for yet another from the bed. "Sometimes I feel as though he's right here
whispering something to me - something I can almost, but not quite, make out,"
she replied.
He gaped at her and
had to make a quick grab for his laptop as it started to slide sideways towards
the floor. "That's amazing," he said, searching her face for a sign of her
current emotional state.
"Actually, I find it very disturbing." Feeling uncomfortable in the face of his
obvious concern, Nivian went back to skimming through the book. She'd had a good
cry down in the audience chamber and then followed Boone and Lazarus up to the
Implant's room. She knew that, like Boone, she had to keep busy - to feel that
she was actually doing something which might lead to Zo'or and Braedan's return.
After completing her perusal of
the book, she exchanged it for yet another on the bed, this time taking a long
look at Boone while he was engrossed with his computer screen.
He looked better than he had
downstairs, but that wasn't saying much. He was still too pale, still sweating
around his scalp despite the fact that he was in bed. He was pushing it too
hard, as he usually did.
She
stood up and blotted his forehead with a damp washcloth, causing him to sigh
appreciatively before stiffening and gently pushing her hand away.
"I'm OK," he insisted.
"You know better than to lie to
me," she said, unable to suppress a smile, "but I also know better than to try
to slow you down."
He snorted in
a self mocking way.
"Perhaps we
should shelve this for now," she continued.
His eyebrow rose. "I thought you
said you knew better than to try to slow me down?"
"I was going to suggest that I go
get us some dinner while you check in with Lazarus - and more importantly, with
Da'an."
He looked troubled. "I'll
check on her condition, but I really must see her in person before I can..." He
faltered for a moment and ran a shaky hand through his hair before continuing.
"Uh, break the news to her."
She
nodded and dropped the washcloth back onto the night stand. "In the meantime,
think you can handle some soup?"
"Make it a burger - the biggest one you can find. Oh, and fries too. My skrill
is killing me here."
She glanced
down at the alien wrapped around and embedded in his forearm, noting for the
first time that it was squirming. "I've never seen it do that before," she
commented.
He looked down as
well. "I'm afraid that I've been so intent upon this research, that I've
completely tuned him out. Now that he has my attention again, he's complaining,"
he winced. "Loudly!"
She shook
her head, still amazed at the odd, symbiotic relationship and then turning,
started for the door.
"Nivian?"
he called out as she was about to exit the room.
She turned.
"How about two burgers? No! Make
that three!"
She shook her head
again and laughed despite herself. "I'll see what I can do."
It just a few moments she found
herself on the lower level of the Embassy, though she could not recall having
walked down the central ramp. Her mind was wandering again - badly. No matter
how hard she tried to concentrate on simple tasks, her thoughts kept straying
back to Zo'or.
Angry with herself
for being so non-productive, she set out in search of one of the aides.
Originally she had planned on going out for the food herself, a small freedom
that Zo'or never would have allowed had he been there. Unfortunately, she feared
that her current inability to concentrate on any one task might result in an
accident. Best that someone else make the run.
One of the younger aides, a man
named Grant, crossed her path and ended up with the assignment.
As soon as she had given him the
order and thanked him, she turned in the direction of her room and after
retrieving her heavy coat, made her way to the garden. She figured that the food
wouldn't arrive for at least a half hour and she could no longer deny the
compulsion she had to sit out on her favorite bench.
The night was calm but frosty and
a little snow still clung to some of the grassy areas. Walking to the bench, she
brushed it off and sat, wrapping her arms around herself. The sky was beautiful
as only a clear, Winter sky could be. The heavens seemed to be draped with the
blackest velvet and lit with thousands of small pinpoint lights.
It was so clear that the slight,
milky hazy of the galaxy's edge was visible and to her right, the pale blue
gleam of the distant mother ship.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden beauty of it all.
Zo'or leaned his head back and
stared at the night sky as several emotions warred deep within him. The
undeniable beauty of space made him ache for the chance to experience it from a
ship while at the same time overwhelming him with the sensation of how
insignificant he truly was in the grand scheme of things.
Someday, in the future, Nivian
would look up at this very sky and see the very same thing he did tonight. A
millennium or two would cause no significant change in the night sky of this
lone planet.
Nivian.
What did she - what WOULD she
think, what would she do when she learned of his plight? To have won her, to
have grown so close to her, and then to have lost her so suddenly had seemed to
have opened a tear in his physical substance. At first it had been as though he
were slowly bleeding away to nothing - as though he were slowly dissipating.
Ma'el had not allowed him to
simply travel on to the void. The elder Taelon had made it clear to him that he
had some small role to play in the future, even if it were only that of raising
Braedan.
He shifted on the fallen
tree he was using as a bench and looked down at the journal he clutched in his
hands. His fingernails dug into the crude leather cover. Real fingernails - not
illusion, not any longer.
Time
was a strange thing - reminding him almost of a living, free floating liquid.
Change the boundaries and the liquid moves to fill the new shape. The molecules
within it are scattered and swirled by the motion - unable to do anything but
comply with a greater physical law.
What might already have happened
to the future he once knew? To Nivian? To his fellow Taelons?
He had taken great pains not to
disturb the history which had once existed in the hopes that it would exist
again. He had even changed his own name and embraced a human existence -
dressing like the rest of the villagers, attempting to live as one of them and
raising Braedan amongst them. True, he was still treated as a high ranking
priest and revered most especially by the older villagers who still remembered
his arrival, but all in all most accepted him as one of their own.
Again he looked down at the
journal in his hands and turning the crudely fashioned book over, ran his
fingers over the coarse cover. This was his one hope of preserving the future he
knew and still providing clues concerning his whereabouts.
If it survived long enough to be
found -
If the time line wasn't
so distorted that the Strandhill collection no longer existed.
If Nivian or Boone - or any of
the others saw the journal and were even capable of noticing that it did not
belong with the other Strandhill artifacts...
A very human sigh escaped him.
The odds were against him ever
getting back, of ever seeing Nivian again.
But he had to try. More than that
- whatever happened, he had to take care of Braedan.
Rising to his feet, he pushed the
journal into one of the concealed pockets in his robe and started back to the
village.
It was late in the evening when
Boone finally summoned the strength and courage to return to the home ship.
Slowly he made his way through
the maze-like corridors, nursing his side and leg until he finally arrived in
the medical area. The place was now highly secure, with "volunteers" loyal to
either Kha'rha or Dro'vha standing guard at key locations. They all silently let
him pass by them and in just a few moments, he found himself entering the
doorway to the chamber in which both he and Da'an had been treated.
Rounding the privacy wall, he was
startled by the sight of the blue tank.
It was empty!
"Will." The voice was Liam's.
His head swiveled instantly to
his left and a sigh of relief escaped him.
Da'an was lying in the small bed
he himself had used not twenty four hours ago. Her features were somewhat
blurred, but she appeared to be merely sleeping. Liam sat at her side, his face
strained and his eyes bleary with fatigue.
Boone slowly approached and
clapped a hand on the Kimera hybrid's shoulder. "Thanks for watching over her,"
he whispered. "Go ahead home to your bed. I can take over now."
Liam stood and nodded. "She asked
for you as soon as she came out of the tank," he whispered back.
"I'm surprised that she's out
already."
"The medics wanted her
to stay in it, but as soon as she was conscious, she insisted on being sprung.
She's been pushing herself too hard - insisting on joining you down on the
planet. The truth is that she didn't even have the strength to summon you. She's
exhausted and Kha'rha somehow managed to calm her to the point that she closed
her eyes. She's been sleeping for hours."
Naoise's Journal:
It was with
a shaken voice that Ma'el revealed to me his theory that Braedan was the child
he should have had. It was almost impossible to at first absorb his revelation
that his other was a direct ancestor to William Boone. That woman - that
hunched, shriveled being with the scowling face related to the large, imposing
ex-police captain?
Over time, as I grew to
know the woman, I came to see how very alike the two of them were. Both devoted
entirely to their Taelon companions and yet also seeking to serve the greater
good of both races.
In Braedan then, we had
the mixing of two very specific genetic lines - those of Ma'el and Gobnait. Who
can say if Ma'el's theory is right, if Braedan was meant to exist in this time
and place?
Did fate see to it that
he would by twisting reality back upon itself to accomplish it?
More
importantly - does this mean that he can never return to his original
time?
Time itself will answer
that question!
Zo'or poked
his head outside the hut and watched with some amusement and pride as Braedan
bested the other boys at a throwing game. It was hard to believe that the child
was now into his fifth year. Had they really been here that long?
With a sigh
he signaled to Siabh, who stood near the young ones, laughing at their antics.
She in turn gave him a flash of a smile and then moved in to collect the
boy.
"Braedan," he could hear her saying. "It's time to retire."
Although Braedan did
not look pleased, he turned his head in Zo'or's direction and nodded. Bidding
his friends good-bye, he started back towards the hut with Siabh in tow.
Zo'or watched
them approach for a moment, then withdrew into the hut. His eyes swept over the
interior. It had once been Ma'el's residence, but with the elder Taelon's death
had become his own. In her grief, Gobnait had remained with him for a time, but
within months she had sickened and embraced the void herself.
He was settling himself
into the chair before the fire when Braedan and Siabh entered. The boy
immediately approached him, threw his arms about him and kissed his cheek,
leaving him hard pressed to stifle a smile as one of his own hands came up to
muss Braedan's red hair.
"Did you see me win the
game?" the child asked, his phosphorescent blue eyes twinkling with
excitement.
"I did," he admitted.
"Very well played for one so young."
Braedan's smile
widened, then suddenly disappeared. "The others say that I won only because of
the blood I inherited from you."
"Did they?" he asked,
pulling his adopted child into the chair beside him. "Do you believe
them?"
"I don't know," Braedan replied solemnly. "I have never seen you throw a
rock."
Though he did not laugh outwardly, he temporarily lost control of his facade and
blushed blue - an event which rarely occurred anymore. It took a moment for him
to regain a serious demeanor. "Your victory in that game is due entirely to your
human blood," he finally admitted. "Your biological father was very
athletic."
The boy's face became
grave. "Will you tell me now how he died?"
Zo'or shook his head
and pulled him close. "You are not yet ready to hear the story, however, I
promise you that it will not be much longer before you do."
Braedan wrinkled up his
nose. "You always say that."
"And I always mean
it."
"I know that we are lost."
"Lost?" He drew his
face back and narrowed his eyes, pretending he was confused, although he already
had a good idea of what the boy was about to say.
Braedan placed his hand
on Zo'or's cheek. "Sometimes when I touch you, I feel things..." He looked
worried. "I know you understand what I'm describing. I can see through your
eyes."
Zo'or sighed. "Tell me what you see."
"I see a man and I know
from you that he is my father. You called him Boone."
"Continue." Even to his
own senses, Zo'or's voice sounded small. It seemed that the time for answers was
at hand.
"And I see a being like
you, a Taelon. You called her Da'an. Is she my mother?"
He bowed his head.
"Yes. She was your mother."
Braedan looked close to
tears. "Was? Is she also dead then?"
He stood up and lifted
the child, carrying him towards the small loft which housed his bed. Placing him
gently upon it, he leaned over and brushed his hair back. A terrible pain was
overtaking him - a dread of wounding the child. Yet he knew he could not lie -
Braedan would easily know it if he did. "You are correct. We are lost, however
we are not misplaced. We are lost in time. Relative to us, your parents live in
the future and the means we used to escape a dangerous situation has left us
stranded here with little chance of return."
Braedan's face crumbled
further. "I'll never have the chance to see them?"
Something twisted
inside himself and Zo'or felt the unaccustomed sting of tears forming in his
eyes. "It is unlikely, yet not impossible," he attempted to reassure the
child.
"You were there at my birth. Your mate gave me life."
"Yes."
"And that day we
arrived, you saved me," the boy sniffed.
"Yes."
"You've always taken
care of me."
"And I always
will."
Then the child was in his arms, hugging him tightly and pressing their cheeks
together. "I love you Naoise," he whispered. "I'm glad the others think you're
my father."
Tears did escape him
then as a nameless mixture of both joy and grief threatened to overwhelm him. He
hugged Braedan tightly and initiated the sharing which quickly revealed
everything leading up to their arrival in Strandhill. He allowed the boy to see
it all, from the Taelon arrival on earth, to his own first meeting with Boone,
to his power-hungry machinations and face offs with Da'an.
He revealed his past
and waited for the boy to reject him.
Instead Braedan hugged
him even more tightly.
It was pain and the return of an almost mind-numbing fear which
eventually caused her to focus once more on the world around her. Starting
suddenly, she felt herself cry out both mentally and verbally, only dimly aware
that it was Boone's name she called.
In the next second, a
warm hand stroked her cheek as her mate took her other hand in his and held it
tightly.
"Shhhh," the deep voice
soothed. "You're safe. You're going to be all right."
She opened her eyes and
her shuddering subsided as Boone's face appeared before her. Somehow she managed
to find the strength to whisper a response, "Safe? There is no safe place. Not
here, not anywhere in this star system. The Jaridians have arrived and we are
not ready to fight them."
Her large mate looked
away, but it was clear even to her addled senses that he was momentarily
somewhere else.
"Then perhaps Braedan
is safer where he is," he finally murmured.
That jolted her into a
more focused state. "No! You must retrieve him." She struggled to sit up but
Boone's strong arms forced her back down upon the mattress. Unable to fight him
in her weakened state, she eventually calmed herself and grasping his arms,
reached out through their link.
<"Allow me
up and escort me back to the Embassy,"> she
ordered. Although aware of the hurt that shot through him, she was beyond caring
at the moment, certain only that without his help, she would not see their child
again.
Still, he resisted her, his mind the stronger at the moment, his physical form
less damaged and his thoughts better organized. After a brief mental struggle,
she again found herself defeated.
Helpless in what could
easily have become her deathbed, had her willpower failed, she was unable to
contain the horror which crept over her when he began asking the questions she
dreaded to answer. How could she respond, when he had only thought the best of
her?
He leaned over her, holding her hands tightly between his own, her body pinned
by his greater weight. They were chest to chest, his face only an inch from her
own. "Why were the Jaridians after Braedan?" he asked, the intensity of his
stare mesmerizing her. His pupils had become mere pinpoints. Even as his grip on
her loosened and became more gentle, his words cut her more deeply. "They were
after you and Zo'or - there's no doubt of that, but they wanted you very badly
and they went out of their way to eliminate our child. Why?"
Boone was horrified when Da'an stared back at him with an
expression at once empty and hopeless.
When she spoke, her
voice was hollow. "Before leaving our home world a raid was carried out upon one
of the nearest Jariadian strongholds. Several Jaridians were captured in order
to provide us with test subjects for use in an important experiment in
regression."
"Regression? Again?" he
was momentarily baffled, but as though the outcome of her words no longer
mattered, Da'an pushed on with her explanation.
"It was my experiment,"
she confessed. "My theory was that Taelon and Jaridian might be reunited in such
a way as to restore our ability to reproduce without significantly regressing
us. This was before Zo'or's birth, when we thought no other Taelons would be
produced. As you know, he turned out to be the last of our kind. At that time, I
was of low rank - a student not yet affiliated with any caste. Still, my
parentage and my research gained me the favor of the scientists. My theories
were therefore given much weight and I was invited to oversee what I was led to
believe would be a minor project." She sighed. "You cannot hope to imagine the
shock I received when twenty three Jaridian captives were placed in my care. An
equal number of Taelons were also... volunteered."
He felt his hair
standing on end and dreaded what was about to be revealed. Still, he had to ask,
"What happened?"
"Several procedures
were developed to introduce Jaridian characteristics into the Taelons. All were
failures but one. We suceeded in introducing material harvested from one
Jaridian into the major pathways of a Taelon." She blinked, then blushed a deep
blue.
Boone felt light headed. "As with Rho'ha and Johnson?" he asked.
"Even so. The
effect was startling. The Taelon regressed ever so slightly and then, before our
very eyes assumed a stronger, more matter-based form. Within a few planetary
rotations, he had suceeded in melding with another Taelon. Not long after that
his chosen one birthed a child. It became the first of many such produced
children to follow. Still, we were left no better off. Although the hybrids
resembled us, they were also far different from us. They could not be looked
upon as a continuation of the Taelon race."
Da'an pushed him away
and sat up, groaning as she did so. He made a move to stop her when he saw she
meant to rise, but the deadly look she threw him stopped him in his tracks.
Swinging her legs over the bed, she eased to her feet and moved slowly towards a
control panel on the wall. "The new race developed quickly, briefly bore
shakarrava and proved to be geniuses when it came to inventing new
technologies," she said over her shoulder as she entered a personal code into
the keypad, then touched her palm to the ID scanner. "They were intelligent,
strong and extremely manipulative. Would you feel safe in guessing what we named
this new race?"
His mouth seemed
frozen. He was barely able to breath the words," The Kimera."
Da'an stepped aside,
allowing him to see the data and images which now scrolled across the screen. It
was a record of the creation of the Kimera. "There is more," she continued as he
numbly scanned the quickly scrolling pages. "Once the first Kimera was birthed,
I was no longer deemed necessary to the continuation of the project. I was
commended for my aid and then dismissed."
"What happened to the
Jaridians?"
"Once they had served
their purpose, they were executed."
Boone made to stand,
but his legs gave out, causing him to collapse awkwardly back into his chair.
"Were you still part of the project when they were slaughtered?" he asked, his
voice harsh and accusing.
Da'an blushed briefly
and dropped her eyes.
"Da'an! They were
sentient beings - an offshoot of yourselves! Bad enough to have used them the
way you did - how could you justify such treatment?"
She seemed deeply
shaken. Indeed, her fingers were working quickly, jittering together before her.
"You must understand that I was not the person I am now. All my youth I was told
of the atrocities the Jaridians carried out against my kind. I was left in no
doubt of what would happen to us when they found our new home world." She took a
few steps toward him and then stopped. "You will never know how deeply I now
regret that fact that I did not speak out against their elimination," she said,
in a pleading tone.
He took a few deep
breaths and attempted to calm himself, despite the fact that his heart was
racing furiously. "What happened to the Kimera?"
"After my dismissal, I
learned of their plight only from Eh'har's parent, Deh'r. The hybrids were
allowed to believe that they were an accepted part of us. We entrusted them with
the design and manufacture of our ships and scientific equipment, but secretly
the Synod had declared them to be a liability. It was felt that we could not
afford to allow our enemies to capture them - to gain any further
advantage.
"So you destroyed them
all, except for Hag'el," he hissed bitterly.
Da'an slowly shuffled
back towards him, an almost insubstantial spirit in a pale gown. "I did not know
what was to come," she said, her expression pained. "By that time I was a true
member of the Scientific Caste, but not privy to Synod secrets. Until recently,
I believed that the Kimera had betrayed us, that they had sought to contact the
Jaridians. It was Zo'or who finally told me the truth - that the Kimera were
destroyed because they were deemed to be superior to us. The Synod could not and
would not let such knowledge surface."
She sat gingerly on the
bed beside him and bowed her head forward, then continued speaking while trying
to make eye contact. "How could they ever admit that as a species we were
incomplete - that without the capacity to feel emotion we were stagnant -
sterile to our core?"
He found himself
looking away as he clenched his teeth together and willed his stomach to
settle.
"Zo'or also told me
that my sibling, Quo'on, unbeknownst to the Synod, managed to save over fifteen
Kimera."
He swung around to
stare at her. "How?"
"He sent them to
Ma'el."
Naoise's Journal:
I write the
following knowing that it will be of keen interest to at least one person who
might read it.
I have already written
of Ma'el and his human other, Gobnait. The following will help to clarify
several of the convolutions I live with daily and must attempt not to
disturb.
Before becoming
attached to Ma'el, Gobnait birthed a daughter, who was then raised by another
family in the village, for it seemed that the little milk she herself produced
would not sustain the infant. It was thought best that the child go to a small
family comprised of a couple and their four young boys. The woman who nursed her
desired a daughter and had been told by a village seer that she would bear no
further children. Having plenty of milk to see her year old son through and a
new babe, she gladly took in Gobnait's daughter and raised her as her
own.
The child's name was Siabh, the very woman who now lives with me and has both
nursed Braedan and helped me to raise him.
When she herself was
just entering her fourteenth year, she brought forth a son whom she named Buan.
All would have ended there, with her living out her life with the man she was
attached to and any children they produced, but for a terrible
occurrence.
When her child was but
a week old, she left him with her adoptive mother and went out in the woods to
meet with her lover. They were caught an hour later in a terrible storm which
had been brewing the better part of the morning and as the two of them began
making their way back to the village, a copse of trees gave way to the wind and
fell upon them.
Her family was frantic
when she did not return, but the storm in its intensity made all hope of an
immediate search impossible. The following dawn brought both light and clear
skies to Strandhill and a large party set out to find the missing
couple.
They were discovered
shortly after. Her lover was dead - killed outright by a tree, but Siabh clung
to life. Placed upon a litter, she was carried back to the village. Ma'el, at
Gobnait's request, healed her as best he could, but though the lifeforce he
transferred to her gave her the strength to pull through, her injuries left her
maimed for life.
With a shattered right
hip, cheekbone and jaw, she was both disfigured and lame. She was eventually
able to walk again, but only after several years and then only with a slow,
ungraceful limp. Her face, once quite lovely, I am told, now frightened people
away, leaving her with no hope of finding a new mate.
Unable to care for Buan
during her protracted recovery, he was given to her lover's family, where he
received both sustenance and care.
Living in her adoptive
family's home, unable to work as anything other than a wet nurse, she was
derided by many as a worthless shell. The only reason she was not offered up for
sacrifice was two-fold; firstly Ma'el had had succeeded in all but eliminating
that barbaric ritual, and secondly it was thought that she would blight the
harvest, rather than ensuring it.
I arrived with Braedan
three years later and it was to Siabh that Gobnait brought the child to be
nursed.
"He's not a
child any longer, Zo'or. You can't command him to live his entire life alone. He
needs friends! I don't understand why you're so afraid to let him out of your
sight." Siabh finished placing the bowls upon the table and ladled a portion of
meat and potatoes into each.
"You do not
understand my reasoning," he sighed. "We have spoken of this before. I cannot
explain it to you - you must simply believe me when I say that it is very
dangerous to both Braedan and to me for him to interact with others. He
understands my reasoning and yet he still defies me. He is being very
foolish."
She moved to the crude
doorway of their hut and called out for Braedan to come in, then returned and
took a seat beside him. "He's not like you," she said softly, in an accusing
tone. Her eyes remained on her bowl as she continued. "He needs the company of
others. He cannot live his life in this hut with only us as companions. You must
understand how hard such a life would be on any human."
The hurt in her tone
once again made him defensive. He knew how she felt about him, but even if he
were trapped here for the remainder of his life, he was bound to another and
could never be what she wanted. He would have reminded her again, but just then
Braedan entered.
The boy was eight years
of age and already showed every sign of one day being as large as his father. He
positively dwarfed the other village boys his age and was treated with respect
by those far older. In addition, many girls were already taking an interest in
him, an event which left Zo'or in a terror. Whatever whould he do when the boy
matured sexually? Unless he could make Braedan aware of the danger he
represented to the time stream, all would be lost - the future altered beyond
recognition.
Taking his seat a the
table, Braedan greeted them and then fell to his meal with his typical
enthusiasm.
Siabh ate slowly, now
and again giving Zo'or a quick, but timid glance.
Zo'or looked down at
his bowl and sighed. Potatoes once more - how he had grown to despise them!
Spearing a piece of venison, he nibbled at it, relishing its taste. There was
something powerful in consuming the substance of that which had once been a
living creature. Potatoes on the other hand were dirty little balls of... oddly
textured starch. He had never liked them and had only grown to hate them more
during each winter. They tasted... dead. On the other hand, green vegetables he
could tolerate. They had a living quality like the meat. Unfortunately, they
were very scarce this time of the year.
Slowly he picked at his
food, consuming very little and biding his time while Braedan demolished his own
meal.
When the boy was done he automatically reached for Zo'or's bowl and polished off
his potatoes, earning a disapproving glare from Siabh.
Moments later when all
the bowls were empty Zo'or addressed the woman. "I require few minutes alone
with Braedan."
Rising, she took the
bowls from the table and went outside to clean them.
Turning, he looked his
ward up and down, finding himself secretly amused by the boy's return of his
stare. "What trouble have you and Buan gotten into today?" he asked.
Braedan
laughed. "None, at least not today, but there was a moment where I thought Buan
was going to beat Ciaran for allowing a ewe to wander away."
He nodded. "You know
that I have spoken with you about the importance of not influencing those around
you. I believe that the time has come for you to stop seeking out Buan's
company."
Braedan was
dumbfounded. "How can befriending him change the future? I have not influenced
him away from any decision he has made."
He stood and bid the
boy to move to the chairs by the fire with him. Once they had settled down, he
continued. "It grieves me to cause you such distress," he said in a low tone.
"You know that I wish you only happiness, however you must come to see the truth
of our situation."
"I know our situation,"
Braedan shouted, interrupting him. "All I have heard from you lately is that I
must not do this, I must not do that. I must not talk to this or that person. I
must not be seen. I must not be!" His eyes began to fill with tears, which he
angrily wiped away. "I am here now. This is my home! I have a right to live my
life... don't I?" he pleaded.
Zo'or looked down at
his hands, which were gripped tightly together. "You are in imminent danger of
changing the future, Braedan. Surely by now you must have connected Buan with
your own father. I know that you can feel the link as I do. By interacting with
a direct ancestor, you imperil your own existence."
"What if I am meant to
be here? What if something I do now helps to prevent the Jaridians from winning
the conflict you told me of?"
"It is impossible. Over
the years, I have given it much thought and concluded that your real place is in
the time we came from."
"And how did you come
to this conclusion?" the child scoffed.
Zo'or lifted his head
and pinned him with eyes which he knew were glowing intensely. "If you do
something now which unites Humanity and the Taelons upon our arrival, then your
mother, Da'an, will never regress. She and Boone will never join and you will
not exist. Therefore, you will not travel back, the timeline will fragment and a
paradox will produce a singularity which swallows this section of space and
time. All will be lost - humanity, the Taelons, the Jaridians and indeed our
entire history before the split. It will be as though we never existed."
Braedan
stared at him in shock. "How can you know this? It's nothing but speculation -
there is no proof such things can occur!"
He sighed. "But they
do. We have encountered them in our travels - huge rifts in space called
'wormholes'. When we venture near them we experience flashes of events
which leave us half mad. It is the reason why Taelons do not tempt fate by
travelling through time."
"You're only telling me
this to frighten me!"
"No. I tell you this
because I wish for you to live."
"You only care about
returning yourself to the future!" The boy accused.
Quick as lightening,
Zo'or's hand shot out and gripped his clothing, pulling him close. Grasping
Braedan's hand, he forced a sharing even as he hissed, "It is too long since
last we did this. You are forgetting what you are!"
They froze as together
they relived selected experiences from his past. He showed the boy the wormholes
he had described and let him feel the terror of their phantom events -
apparitions of things which had been and yet did not exist. He showed Braedan
his parents, their love for him and the hope his birth represented.
And when he
felt the child breaking - crying in his soul for what he had lost and what he
could not have, he extended to him his deepest trust by sharing with him the
secret he had kept his entire life...
Braedan
witnessed Zo'or's birth, watching in wonder and fear as Deh'r struggled to
prevent his child from claiming too much of his substance for himself. Da'an's
adoptive parent, Xe'em was present and in the end it was his aid which saved
Deh'r's life.
"I did not want this!"
Deh'r groaned, as his internal pathways began to come apart, ripped in two by
the emerging child. "I was a fool to succumb!"
"Hush now," Xe'em
replied. "Soon you will have a new child. Your feelings will change
then."
"No! They will not! This child has whispered within my mind and thoughts for the
entire time I have hosted it. It has influenced me in ways which leave me
shamed!" He groaned more loudly, and then cried out. "I will not raise it! It is
not a Taelon!"
Braedan was stunned.
Zo'or, still connected directly to his parent, had perfect knowledge of what was
said at his own birth. How had this twisted him? To know the loathing his own
parent had for him!
"Concentrate, Deh'r,"
Xe'em commanded. "It is time to end this labor."
"I will not raise it!"
Was Deh'r's final shriek as he dropped Xe'em's hands. A large portion of his
form billowed out of his abdomen and gently settled into his waiting arms. Even
as he doubled over and sank to the floor, the new one arranged itself into
typical Taelon form, becoming a squirming infant.
Xe'em knelt down next
to him, and apparently fearful that he would harm the child when he saw what it
had done, took it from his arms. The infant was twice the normal size of a
Taelon new-formed and Deh'r had been greatly reduced by the ordeal. Standing and
moving to the door, Xe'em opened it and called in Deh'r's parent, entreating him
to help his own offspring into the energy stream.
Deh'r's parent gaped at
the infant as he entered the chamber, while Xe'em moved out to the abode's
common area.
Even as Braedan
digested the intimate knowledge of Zo'or's beginnings, the scene shifted and he
knew from Zo'or that they had moved back in time.
Deh'r walked slowly
from his laboratory through the streets of the city. He was on his way home and
yet in no rush to arrive.
As he passed under the
arches which spanned the alley a few blocks from his dwelling, a figure stepped
out of the shadows and began walking beside him. He stopped and the being
stopped with him.
"What is it you wish?"
he asked, as a sudden wave of fear passed through him.
The stranger was
obscured by shadow and yet his inner luminescence partially revealed very
pleasing features. "You," he replied, reaching out to take Deh'r's hand. "I want
you."
As the stranger's hand gripped his own, a sudden desire consumed Zo'or's parent.
Never had he felt such a need!
In the next instant the
two forms were joining and Braedan watched with astonishment as the strange
Taelon suddenly changed. It's body shifted from an aqua to a brilliant deep
blue, it's features blurring and shifting. It resembled a Taelon and
yet...
Just then Deh'r caught a glimpse of it's true face and screamed,
"Hag'el!"
The sharing ended and
he found himself suddenly enfolded in Zo'or's arms. They clung together for long
moments until he lifted his head and looked his adoptive parent in the
eye.
"Hag'el was a Kimera?" he asked.
Zo'or nodded. "The only
one to escape both slaughter and exile. He managed to elude capture long enough
to beget several dozen hybrids, but he was eventually imprisoned."
"What
happened to his offspring?" He thought he could guess, and the possibility he
might be right horrified him.
Zo'or confirmed his
suspicions. "They were all eradicated. All but me. My parent's pride would not
allow him to admit that he had succumbed. Though he would not raise me, neither
would he reveal my parentage."
"Why did you show me
this?"
"So that you would know that you are not the only one who walks a lonely
path."
Braedan studied him. Zo'or's eyes revealed a deep seated pain, his face
vulnerable. Though he knew that his Taelon guardian had been hated and despised
for much of his existence, Braedan could not see anything remaining of the power
hungry youth he had once been.
Why Zo'or was hardly
even Taelon anymore!
He still retained his
ability to share, but he rarely blushed and when he did, it was but a pale glow
seen below his skin. Somehow over the years he had regressed to a form which was
primarily matter based.
He moved out of Zo'or's
embrace and stood up on wobbly legs. His head was literally swimming with
information. "I'll stay away from Buan," he mumbled, as a deep sorrow for the
loss of a friend consumed him.
Then, not wanting his
adoptive parent to see him cry, he turned and ran from the hut.
"Anything?"
Nivian shook her head
and placed the small pottery piece back down amongst its kin in what was left of
the Strandhill exhibit.
Boone found himself
scratching his head and turning a circle in his frustration. They had
systematically gone through every object left in the ruined museum room and
Nivian had felt nothing. The only thing which gave off any sort of a sensation
that Zo'or had been near was the remains of the portal.
Lazarus walked over to
him from where he he had been scanning the portal. "What now?" he asked.
"Now we pack
up our things and move to Strandhill itself," he replied.
Nivian stood and dusted
off her hands. "Once we get there, I'm certain that I'll get some impression as
to where to search."
"Yeah. Well, I hope so.
The place is large and undercut with what could turn out to be hundreds of
crypts." Seeing the lost look which swept over Nivian's face, Boone quickly
added, "Still, I'm certain that Zo'or would have taken that into account. If he
wants to be found, he'll place clues in areas we're likely to search."
Nivian
relaxed somewhat as Lazarus nodded and cleared his throat.
"You wouldn't happen to
trace your family roots back to Ireland would you?" he asked.
"No. I think that I'm
from Scottish stock. The family supposedly moved from there to Cape Breton. What
makes you ask?"
He shrugged. "Just
wondering if there was a connection."
Boone gave him a
measuring look and then dropped the subject. He had other things to concentrate
on right now - like contacting Kha'rha and Beckett.
Siobhan
Beckett strode quickly into the audience chamber of the Dublin Embassy. She had
been called back at her Companion's request, despite the fact that it meant
dropping what she had been doing - which was closing in on a criminal she had
been hunting for days. She knew that he would not have insisted on her presence
unless something very important had come up. That in itself made her
nervous.
She couldn't help
fearing that perhaps the Synod had again decided to reassign Kha'rha. Lord knew
what she would do then!
As she rounded the arch
of the chamber's main entrance, she saw that her Companion was sitting serenely
in his chair and her worse fears instantly dissipated. When he was upset, it was
the one place he was never to be found in.
Moving to stand
directly before him, she bowed and made the hand gesture of greeting.
He nodded to
her and then smiled. "Siobhan," came his deep, soothing voice. "We are to have
company late this afternoon."
She waited patiently
for him to elaborate further.
"Da'an, Boone, Nivian
and the one known as Lazarus shall be arriving tomorrow morning with a
contingent of archeologists to reopen the Strandhill dig."
She knew that her mouth
was hanging open and closed it. "Re-open the Strandhill dig?" she repeated.
"Why? Surely there is no need to further desecrate the burial mounds."
Kha'rha rose
and stepped down beside her. "There is every reason to do so," he said, taking
her arm and steering her towards the window. "It's time that you learned exactly
what happened the night that Da'an and Zo'or were attacked."
She felt her heart skip
a beat. "Was Zo'or killed? Is that why we've not seen him these past
days?"
"No, he wasn't killed."
Beckett knew that the
official account of what had occurred at the press conference was not true, but
she, like almost every other Implant, had been unable to determine what exactly
had happened. Security was especially tight, with even Companion Protectors left
guessing. She knew only that Da'an, Boone and Liam had been seen, as well as
Marquette. Nobody, to the best of her knowledge, had actually seen Zo'or.
Staring her
Companion in the eye, she waited for him to continue.
"The truth of the
matter is that both Zo'or and Braedan have escaped certain death by traveling
through a portal and into the past."
"Strandhill's past?"
she asked.
"Yes. The portal was
then destroyed by one of the Jaridians."
"This makes it
impossible for them to use the portal's former self to travel forward?" She was
confused, and it showed.
"Ma'el locked the
controls on the portal during his later days," Kha'rha explained. "He felt that
it was too likely that one of the humans he had come to know would somehow
figure out how to activate it. It will not unlock itself until many years after
he journeys into the void."
"So then... the dig is
being re-opened in the hopes of pinpointing their place in time?" she
reasoned.
"Yes." He fixed her
with a concerned look. "Have I ruined your investigation in calling you
back?"
She shrugged noncommittally.
"Have you made any
headway?" he pressed.
"I tracked him to
Aveiro, Portugal - that was easy enough, but I have very few leads on where they
may now be. I was just checking out a report about a couple fitting their
description who were seen stealing a man's bag at Heathrow in London."
He nodded.
"Perhaps Agent Sandoval will contact us. He has every reason to trust me, if not
you."
Her face must have given away the hurt she felt at his words, for he placed an
arm about her shoulders and pulled her close.
"I'm sorry," he added.
"I meant only to say that he is certain that I will not turn him over to the
Synod. I did not mean to..."
"Quit while you're
ahead," she interrupted, as she buried her face against his chest.
He patted her
back. "Will you see to it that the Strandhill Officials are notified and that
guest rooms here are readied?"
"Of course." She
straightened up. "It will be so good to see Boone and Da'an again!"
He lifted her
chin with a finger and kissed her lightly on the lips. "And it will be so good
to see you cheered up."
"Agent
Lassiter, has Commander Boone returned to the Embassy?"
"Yes Da'an. He returned
quite some time ago." Lassiter became concerned. "Would you like me to confirm
that he is still here?"
"That will not be
necessary." Deactivating the data stream, Da'an dropped her arm heavily back
onto the mattress and stared up at the skylights above.
He was back and had not
come to her.
She felt her heart
lurch painfully at the rejection and rolled onto one side. It was to be expected
that he would be upset. He had just discovered that she was far from being a
perfect being. Worse than that. He had found her lacking in an area in which he
himself excelled - compassion. In his eyes she had broken one of the biggest
taboos - she had not only allowed people to be exterminated, she had condoned
it.
She kept her eyes fixed upon the doorway.
He would come to her,
of that she had no doubt. He would forgive her - it was in his nature to do
so.
Minutes ticked by, then an hour.
Still she did not
sleep. Still he did not appear.
"Perhaps my past
actions are beyond forgiving," she thought. "and he can no longer feel anything
for me but revulsion."
The thought was too
much. No - it could not be so! He too was wounded. Damaged in body and soul far
worse than he had wished her to know. He was no doubt hiding in his office,
attempting to come to terms with all which had occurred.
Again she felt a
terrible pain wash over her. He had chosen to be alone in his misery. He had
shut her out - even to the point of clamping down on their link.
Rising
gingerly from the bed, she threw a blanket about her for extra warmth and slowly
made her way out of the chamber. As she had surmised, Boone was in his office,
slumped over his desk.
He was clutching one of
Braedan's stuffed toys in his hands and the sight of him with it caused a great
tenderness and longing to well up within her.
She quietly took a seat
next to him and watched as he slept.
In sleep his face,
though pale, seemed relaxed and untroubled, making him seem so much younger than
his current physical age of twenty eight years. His hair was neat, as it always
seemed to be and in the dim light of the room seemed more brown than red.
Reaching out,
she gently ran her fingertips through it, stroking his scalp carefully and
soothing whatever dreams he might be having.
He stirred just long
enough to whisper her name and she felt as though her heart would burst for need
of him.
When had she learned to
love? When had that emotion firmly taken root within her and become a necessity?
It had perhaps started the day Boone had outmaneuvered Zo'or and thus given her
back her chair as North American Companion. It was at that point that she too
had taken a risk - putting her own newly recovered position on the line by
deciding that Boone's company was far more important to her than her
status.
When had she first
realized how deeply her affection for him ran? Most definitely the night Hag'el
nearly killed him. When she had thought him lost a part of her had nearly
died.
But when had she ever told him how she felt? Their sharings must have
communicated her true feelings to him, however humans were known to desire
verbal affirmations.
Focusing once more on
his face, she was startled to see that his eyes were slightly open, watching
her.
With a gasp of discomfort, he pushed himself upright and then stood. "What are
you doing out of bed?" he wheezed, putting a hand on the desk to steady
himself.
"I could ask the same
of you," she replied with a smile.
He pressed a hand
against his side and sat back down, apparently dizzy from standing too suddenly.
"I'm not the one who was at death's door just forty eight hours ago."
She took his
hand and lifted it to her cheek. "Time spent in the energy stream has
accelerated my healing."
There was a silence
between them then as they held each other's gaze. Each was on the verge of
saying something which they could not quite bring themselves to.
It was Boone
who finally acted. Pushing his chair back, he held out his hand to her and
whispered, "Come here."
She went to him and was
pulled onto his knee as his arms enfolded her. He buried his face in her
neck and nuzzled.
"I know that you're not
the person you once were," he murmured. "And I know what it must have taken for
you to tell me the truth earlier." He lifted his head and met her gaze. "My
respect for you has actually grown. Very few people are capable of changing as
you have."
"And yet, it was a
terrible shock for you to see what I was once capable of," she said, pushing for
him to admit his disappointment.
His eyes never wavered.
"Yes, it was. A part of me feels so... bruised. I don't know how to describe
it..."
"Betrayed?"
He looked away briefly.
"In a way."
"There should be no
secrets between us."
Boone nodded
gravely.
"Then tell me what you
have been keeping from me."
He nudged her off his
knee, stood up and paced the length of the room before returning to stand before
her. "What if Braedan is meant to remain where he is?" he asked, after taking a
deep breath.
She stood as well. "I
do not see how his presence in Strandhill's past might have altered our present
situation in any noticeable way, let alone in a positive way."
Boone put his hands on
his hips. "But how would we know? What if this is his destiny - and
Zo'or's?"
She fixed him with a
cold look. "Are you proposing that we leave our child where and when he
is?"
"Da'an, it can't be a coincidence that both he and the Kimera are there with
Ma'el," he reasoned. "All I'm saying is that we need to research this carefully
and be prepared to leave Braedan if we must."
She turned her back to
him and clutched at her own fingers. This was a hard thing to hear, especially
since she herself had been agonizing over it earlier that night. Could fate be
so cruel as to grant her a child and then take him from her?
Still, when had her
life ever been predictable?
"You will decide
nothing without my say," she demanded.
His hands came down on
her shoulders. "You know I would never do such a thing," he accused as he turned
her around to face him. "And you must know that under any other circumstance I
would take on a Jaridian army to get him back!"
She couldn't help but
smile slightly. "Yes. Liam told me what happened to the Jaridian who confronted
you."
His eyes smiled, even though his face remained grim. "Remember that you're the
one who told Liam that Taelons don't tempt fate."
She slipped her arms
around him and laying her cheek against his chest, sighed. "There is truth in
your reasoning - and the truth is sometimes difficult to accept."
Boone hugged
her tightly for a moment and then swept her up into his arms.
"William! What are you
doing?" she asked, startled.
"Taking you back to
bed."
She protested, "You are injured and I am quite capable of walking!"
"I don't
think that this will kill me. You're light as a feather." When she stared at him
as though he had taken leave of his senses, he laughed. "That's just another
human saying. Now hang on."
She wrapped her arms
around him and held on tightly, savoring the contact during the time it took him
to limp his way back to their chamber. Once he reached the bed, he tossed her
unceremoniously into it's center and undressing quickly, joined her under the
covers.
As he gathered her
close, she pushed herself up on an elbow and looked down at him. He was
perspiring as well as breathing hard.
"I'm all right," he
assured her, apparently realizing that she could see him quite well in the
dark.
Grasping the hem of the blanket, she slowly blotted his face dry before leaning
down and kissing him tenderly. When she was done she met his enraptured gaze and
and finally said, "I love you."
The result was most
pleasing, as he smiled and pulled her closer still.
Zo'or stood
near the stream for a long time, lost in thoughts of Nivian and what could be -
if only he were with her. Time stood still as he tried to sense her through
their severed link.
Nothing.
He then
concentrated on memories of her face, her voice, her smile.
Yes, she was still
there. His memories of her were so clear that it brought a fresh sense of pain
to him - as though he had only just this moment lost her.
Finally he shook his
head and turning, set off towards the village. It was non-productive to dwell
upon this. He would probably never see her again - he would most likely remain
in this primitive place, surrounded by savages for the remainder of his
life.
Which would be a long time indeed.
It was fortunate that
he had Braedan to keep him company. There was no sense in denying that he loved
the boy. He would risk almost anything to keep him safe. Braedan was the child
he himself had never and now would never have.
He stopped in his
tracks at that thought. Had he given up hope of rescue already? A sigh escaped
him then. Such hope would only lead to more disappointment. What would be...
would be.
For now, it was his
task to do his best to preserve the future.
He began walking once
more, suddenly aware of how cold and damp the night had become. A fine mist was
falling and it seemed that he stood a good chance of being caught in a
downpour.
Quickening his steps,
he turned in the direction of the path through the woods.
Twenty minutes
later he entered his hut to find Siabh waiting anxiously at the entrance.
"You're
drenched!" she exclaimed, as she began pulling his wet outer garments off him.
In a flash, she had him down to his suit and sitting in a chair close to the
fire.
"What were you thinking, going out so late at night?" she scolded. "And without
so much as a single hide to keep you warm!" She draped said skin over him and
then knelt down beside him. "Naoise, I was worried half to death!"
Zo'or looked
at her then. Yes, her face was badly damaged, but it did not completely eclipse
the beauty that was once hers. She loved him - he knew that and not for the
first time felt guilty that he could not return her love. She was a good woman,
as far as humans went and she had helped him raise Braedan as though he were her
own.
He noticed how pale she looked - she had tears drying on her face, and pitied
her. Reaching out a hand, he cupped her face, wiping at a tear track with his
thumb.
"You must not worry about me," he whispered. "I've told you that before. There
is very little in this place which can harm me and I will live still when even
the grandchildren of this village are dust."
She shivered and
covered his hand with her own. "But you've changed since you came here. You've
lost your magic - I've seen how you must now seek food and warmth and water just
as the rest of us do. Even now you shake with cold. You must take care!"
He snorted
and made to take his hand away, but she held it firmly. "There are few who would
mourn my passing," he groused.
Siabh's eyes widened.
She kissed his palm and then released his hand. "Braedan and I would mourn you.
Think of what our lives would be if you left us. You must not speak such
things!"
"It's late and I tire."
He stood up and moved towards his crude bed as he added, "Good night."
Climbing onto
the pile of hay which was sewn into a hide covering, he covered himself and
turned to face the hut's dirt wall, effectively cutting off any chance of
further conversation. Behind him he could hear Siabh tending the fire and tying
the entrance skins closed. In a moment she would seek her own bed and quickly
fall asleep, leaving him free to rise once more and write his journal.
Minutes
ticked by and yet he did not hear her retire. As best as he could tell, she sat
in one of the chairs before the fire. He began to get frustrated at the delay
and contemplated ordering her to bed.
Then she did rise, but
instead of heading towards her bed, she seemed to be heading towards him! A
second later he felt her slip beneath the cover with him and rolled to face her,
determined to give voice to his outrage.
Siabh was ready for the
move and throwing an arm about his neck, kissed him on the mouth.
Outrage gave
way to shocked surprise and then...
He melted.
His anger
vanished along with any thought of speaking. Reaching out, he encircled
her with his arms and pulled her against him as he kissed her back hungrily. He
realized that she was naked and that made his sudden desire flare up higher,
like the stirred coals in a fire.
As her arms reached
around him and began working the fastening of his suit open, he rolled her onto
her back and slid down to shower kisses over her breasts - the same breasts
which had once nourished Braedan.
Braedan.
He was
sleeping just a short distance away.
Zo'or pushed away.
"No," he whispered. "Braedan..."
"Is a sound sleeper."
Siabh pulled him back and kissed him again as she peeled his suit down his
arms.
Lost once more in the new feelings which overwhelmed him, he rolled onto his
side, and began exploring her form with his hands as they continued
kissing.
He wanted her. He
needed her.
Badly.
It was then that
memories of Nivian intruded.
After a momentary
internal struggle for control, Zo'or forced Siabh's hands away. "I cannot..." he
began.
"Yes, you can - now that you're built like a man." She made to touch him again,
but he stopped her.
"I am bonded to
another," he hissed.
"Then where is she?"
Siabh stared at him accusingly. "You've mentioned her now and then, but in all
the time you've been here I have yet to set eyes on her. She is dead, isn't
she?"
He knew he looked stricken. In point of fact Nivian did not yet exist, but that
was something he could not tell this woman.
Her face softened. "She
is then," she murmured, "I'm sorry for you, but you've mourned long enough. A
life lived alone is not a happy one - I know that. Be with me now." She cupped
his face and pulled him to her for another kiss.
Again desire began to
get the best of him and again he lost control, rolling her over so that she was
beneath him. He wanted...
Zo'or froze.
He wanted
Nivian.
All his ancestors help
him! He couldn't fall prey to this human weakness! He couldn't endanger the
timeline!
Rolling quickly off
Siabh, he sat up in the bed and began groping around for his suit.
When she made
to reach for him, he held a hand up. "Stop!"
"Naoise!?"
"Listen to me
now, Siabh," he hissed as he began to dress. "I can never be your mate. That is
no reflection on you. It simply is a fact."
"I don't understand..."
she said, her voice breaking.
"I belong to another
and although she is not here - although I may never see her again, I cannot mate
with you."
"You are being
foolish!" she protested, raising her voice.
"Perhaps. However, I
have little choice."
"Don't do this! You
want me - you love me. I know it!" she cried. "Don't throw away..."
"Want you?
Yes. Love you?" He interrupted. Fully dressed, he rose and turned to face her.
"Love a human woman stupid enough to meet her lover outside during a storm?" He
laughed, but there was little humor in it. "Siabh, your recklessness cost you
your mate, but mine could cost me the world itself!"
She lurched to her feet
and pulled her robe on. When she met his eyes, her own were full off tears. "You
do love me," she insisted. "You took me in and cared for me when no one else
would."
He sighed. "I needed
help with Braedan and you were available. I do not and never will love you as
you wish I would. What happened just now was but a momentarily weakness."
Siabh's face
crumbled then. Without bothering to even grab a wrap, she tore the entranceway
flaps open and disappeared into the night.
He moved quickly to the
doorway and called out her name, but there was no reply. It was impossible to
see in the heavy downpour and after a minute he gave up and secured the flaps to
the best of his ability.
She
would return in time, he reasoned - once she had calmed down and come to realize
that he had done nothing more than tell her the truth of how things stood
between them.
Attempting to still his
rapidly jittering fingers, he moved to his bed and stared down at it.
Impossible to
sleep there now!
Instead, he wrote in
his journal and then, bringing a blanket with him, climbed into bed beside
Braedan.
Outside the wind began
to howl and the rain picked up. Snuggling up closer to his ward, Zo'or pulled
the blanket more tightly around himself and stared at the doorway. He found
himself shaking as though he were cold and wondered what was wrong with
him.
His thoughts kept straying back to Siabh, to what they had been doing together -
to the way her skin had felt against his own.
It was a long time
before he slept.
Naoise's Journal:
Siabh is
lost to us. She left in the dead of night during a storm and was found drowned
in the river several days later.
Although I admit to
being saddened by her passing, Braedan has been inconsolable. Despite his mature
demeanor, the loss of the woman he thought of as his mother has devastated him.
He has withdrawn into himself and will not speak, nor will he leave the
hut.
I fear that he blames
me for her death and this troubles me more than I care to admit. Though
the villagers have always held me in a superstitious light and regarded me with
fear and distrust, their opinion has not concerned me in the least. Besides,
they have always treated me with respect.
Losing Braedan,
however, would make my life here intolerable and that is what I fear is
happening. He is my only connection to the life I once had. He is more than that
even. He is my child.
I only wish I could
protect him from such pain and suffering.
Boone forced
himself to relax in his seat and waited until the shuttle had completely stopped
before throwing off his restraints and rising. His excitement at traveling back
to Dublin had peaked as soon as they had emerged from I.D. space and he could
feel an adrenaline rush washing away the pain of his injuries as well as the
exhaustion of the previous two days.
Despite the lateness of
the day and the imminant loss of daylight, he was aching to get out to the
Strandhill site and begin the process of reopening the dig. Still, he would be
willing towait until morningif need be and instead settle for Kha'rha and
Beckett's company. it would be so good to see them!
Offering Da'an his arm,
he escorted her from the shuttle and then turned to help Nivian down.
Lazarus
brought up the rear, stepping out with their pilot and their luggage.
For a moment
Boone was troubled by the intense look on the man's face. It left him with the
feeling that something was really bothering him.
Before he had a chance
to ask Lazarus what was wrong, they were met by Kha'rha, Beckett and several
Embassy employees and all thought of Lazarus fled his mind as he turned to greet
his friends.
"Welcome," the Irish
Companion greeted. "As ever, think of this Embassy as your own."
Da'an greeted
him with the proper gesture of respect even as Boone and Beckett thumped each
other on the back and then embraced, each testing the other's ribs.
Finished
greeting Da'an, Kha'rha moved on to Nivian and startled her by taking her hand
and raising it to his lips. After kissing it, he ran his thumb gently over her
small fingers in a gesture at once gentle and intimate. So dumbfounded was she
that a smile made its way to her face despite the stressfulness of the
circumstances.
"Please follow me
inside where we may discuss the 'project' in more comfortable surroundings,"
Kha'rha encouraged, as the doormen took the luggage and moved on ahead of
them.
In just a short while they found themselves in a grand dining room which Kha'rha
had long ago had furnished in an old, Victorian style. It was both beautiful and
comforting, especially since the table was set and steaming bowls of soup had
already been ladled out for them.
Taking seats, they
wasted little time in tasting the soup at their host's insistence. Boone found
himself relaxing as the cold dampness of the outside was driven from his bones
and commented on how cozy the room was.
"It ws my goal to
provide such a place for entertaining my honored guests while setting them at
ease in my presence." Kha'rha explained. "It is a shame that I have not had as
much occasion to use it as I had hoped. I hope you understand that I am
therefore delighted to be able to use it now."
As they ate and
discussed the situation which had led them back to Strandhill, Beckett reported
that she had located several crypts within the Strandhill area whose excavation
might yield them answers.
Much later, with their
bellies full of good food and their heads full of new hope, Kha'rha showed them
to their rooms. Gallantly he offered Nivian his arm and when she took it he
patted her hand encouragingly.
"Sleep soundly Nivian,"
he soothed. "Know that if there if any way to retrieve Zo'or and Braedan that we
shall do so."
"Thank you," she
breathed, clearly caught off guard. For everything, I mean."
Boone couldn't help but
be amused by the way the Companion had charmed the normally shy Doctor and he
found himself shooting Beckett a 'look'.
Beckett in turn shot
him back an insufferably smug one of her own.
Da'an, Boone, " the
Irish Companion addressed them, "Do not hesitate to make any of your wishes
known. I trust that you, too, will pass a restful night."
He followed Da'an's
lead and bowed while making the sign of leave-taking.
As Kha'rha turned and
headed up the ramp towards his own chamber, Beckett also wished them a good
night and then turned to follow her Companion.
"Come on," he drawled,
as he placed a hand against Da'an's back and steered her into the room. "We need
our beauty sleep."
She shot him a
measuring look. "Speak for yourself. William. Still, I do feel strangely
fatigued..."
The door closed softly
behind them.
Further up the
corridor, Beckett closed another door behind herself.
"Do you really feel
that spiking the soup with a narcotic was necessary?" she asked Kha'rha.
He settled
into his reading chair and picked up a book as he shot her a quick look. "Of
course, Siobhan. We can't have them wandering all over the Embassy until
daybreak. They will need to be rested and alert tomorrow."
Beckette paused a
moment and watched as he delved into the book."You just don't want your reading
interrupted," she finally snorted.
"Hmm? Oh yes - that
too." he replied distractedly.
Zo'or covered
his face with his hands and slowly collapsed onto the dirt floor of his hut. The
room seemed to spin about him and slowly faded to black.
He regained
consciousness slowly, at first confused about where he was or what had happened.
The first thing he was able to focus on was the fireplace. It was dank and cold,
for it had been twelve days since a fire had last burned there.
His memory returned in
a rush which left him again wiping tears from his eyes.
Twelve days.
Twelve days
since his life had effectively ended.
His arm dropped back to
the dirt floor. He had no strength left to lift it.
If only the rest of the
villagers had killed him! Theirs was an odd society and unfortunately the elders
had considered him within his rights to commit the act which had doomed
him.
No longer possessing a Taelon's ability to will himself into the void, he had
stopped eating and drinking, wandering aimlessly about the interior of his cold
hut. A human would have been dead within a few days in this cold, wet weather,
either from hypothermia or dehydration. But no - that was not to be his fate.
Still possessing some Taelon structure, he had lingered this long,
suffering.
He deserved to suffer,
not that he wanted to.
For what he had done
was perhaps the worse thing he could ever have been forced to do.
It gave him
no comfort to think that he may have saved the future. He could only pray that
the journal he had finally laid to rest the day before would be found and that
this possible end would be undone.
He no longer gave a
damn about paradox.
Again he drifted into
unconsciousness.
When he awoke,
the dawn was breaking and a thread of amber light crept its way over his chest
to his eyes. He could see the sun in all its winter glory, rising huge and red
over the village.
He was no longer cold.
In fact he felt so very warm...
For a moment he thought
he saw Ma'el smiling down at him and patting his shoulder, but that could not
be. Ma'el was dead these past ten years...
Then something changed
inside him. He felt a shifting - a fading away of reality as he knew it. In his
mind's eye he saw Nivian finding his journal, but his last words were directed
at another.
"Braedan..." he
whispered. "Forgive me..."
And then he finally
found peace.
"Boone!"
It was Nivian's voice
on his open global channel.
Pulling the device off
his belt, Boone opened the screen to find the silver-haired doctor and Lazarus
staring back at him with excited expressions.
"What did you find?" he
asked instantly, hoping for the best. He felt Da'an's strong hands close on his
shoulders as she finished crossing the audience chamber at top speed. She was
gripping him tightly enough to leave bruises.
It was Lazarus who
answered. "You two better get over here right away. We've discovered another
burial chamber and Nivian is having memory flashes every time she gets anywhere
near it!"
"Has it been opened,
detective?" Da'an asked.
"Not yet. We're waiting
for you."
"See to it that you
do." Before Boone could even close the device, Da'an was on her way towards the
shuttle bay and he had to break into a jog so that he could catch up.
Not five
minutes later, Da'an took the shuttle out of Interdimension nearly on top of the
Strandhill base camp's main tent. In just five seconds she had it on the ground
and shutting down.
Boone found himself
whistling at the display of piloting skill. There really was nothing quite like
riding in a shuttle being commanded by a Taelon!
Jumping from his seat,
he moved forward quickly, determined to get ahead of his companion. He
succeeded, but just barely. Gently taking her arm, he held her back. "Take it
easy," he soothed. "You're still healing up and another minute or two will make
no difference to Braedan and Zo'or."
She shrugged his hand
off and moved away quickly none the less. "Come Boone," she said, sourly. "It
may not matter to them, however, it does to me!"
Falling into step
behind, he followed her to an area in the clearing where a great deal of
activity was taking place. In the midst of the crowd of archeologists and
diggers they found Nivian, Lazarus and Beckett.
"Proceed," Da'an
immediately ordered Beckett.
Spinning on her heel,
the Irish Implant barked an order of her own and a second later there was a
muffled boom. A cloud of smoke rose from a new hole in the earth about thirty
feet away. When it settled, Beckett moved to the opening and stared in.
Then she
climbed down.
Da'an was at the
opening before any of the rest of them were and it was she who passed Beckett a
lantern.
Boone found himself
holding his breath.
When Kha'rha's Implant
reappeared she looked shaken and pale. "Boone, you'd better come on down.
There's writing which you must translate for me."
"Taelon
writing?"
She nodded.
"I shall go,"
Da'an announced.
Beckett turned a
pleading look upon him and he in turn confronted Da'an.
"It's still too
dangerous," he cautioned. "I'll go." When she looked like she would argue, he
took her hand and made mental contact. <"I
won't let you go in first,"> he projected
sternly. <"and no amount of arguing or ordering
will change that! Stay here and trust me to do this.">
She looked angry, but
then her features relaxed and she nodded her consent. He knew how hard this was
for her, but if Beckett's expression was any indication, then all she would find
would be bad news.
With a final squeeze of
Da'an's hand, he turned and carefully climbed down to join the other Implant,
who led the way forward through a very narrow and low tunnel. As they moved
along, her lantern eerily illuminated the soil encrusted rock walls, causing
strange shadows to appear all around. It was as though the tunnel were
attempting to reach out and grab them.
Despite himself, Boone
shivered.
The tunnel descended at
a moderate incline and fortunately for his nerves, ended approximately forty
feet later by opening up into a chamber.
He stood up straight,
moved to the center of the crypt and slowly looked around.
The small chamber had a
ceiling made up of individual slabs of granite with similar slab forming braces
in the walls. There was nothing to mark the grave as that of an important
individual except for its actual construction.
Finishing his perusal
he realized that the tomb belonged to not one, but two people, for there were
two coffins along the back wall.
"Funny," he whispered.
"I don't see any Eunoic writing anywhere."
It was then that he
noticed that Beckett was standing beside one coffin, her lantern raised over it
and reflecting the strained look on her face.
Moving forward, he
looked inside.
The coffin had no lid
and within its deep cavity lay the body of a young adult, most likely no older
than twelve. He wore period clothing as well as an ornamental hood over his
head. Squinting in the dim light, Boone realized that the hood looked
familiar.
Without warning, his
CVI kicked in with a memory intrusion which caused him to lock up.
He recognized
the hood. It was made of the baby blanket Braedan had been bundled in the
afternoon he disappeared.
"No..." The word
escaped him, sounding like nothing more than a last breath.
Reaching out, he
snatched the hood from the skull and felt his stomach threaten to empty itself
when a shock of brilliant red hair was revealed.
A warm hand on his back
steadied him as he staggered. It was Beckett.
"Easy now," she
soothed. "You knew you would not be finding him alive in this time."
"Maybe
someone else used the blanket - someone with red hair. I mean, most of the
people around here had that hair color," he rationalized.
Beckett pointed at
something on the inside wall of the coffin and held the lantern closer.
It read,
"BRAEDAN FLYNN BOONE" in English.
So, this was his
son.
"Boone!"
Beckett's voice brought
him back to the present. He had somehow blanked out for a second or two, because
now she was standing next to the other coffin.
"Help me get the lid
off this," she asked.
Shaking the cobwebs out
of his head, he took a few long strides towards her and grasping the edge of the
stone lid, heaved.
Stone ground upon stone
and then toppled off the edge with a loud thud.
Inside the coffin were
the remains of a man, not a Taelon!
"What the?" Boone had
noticed something else odd. Pulling back the shawl which was wrapped about the
corpse, he uncovered a Taelon suit.
Zo'or's suit.
"This can't
be Zo'or," he protested, looking at Beckett.
"Well if it is, he
certainly didn't age as well as Ma'el did."
"He's buried in here
with my son. I guess that it would have to be him," he finally admitted.
"Besides, the skull looks... strange."
She nodded. "It does
indeed. Look, we have two people up above who can positively ID him if he is
Zo'or. I say that we bring them down."
At first he hesitated,
but then he reasoned that by now Da'an surely had guessed what had been found in
the crypt. He was about to agree with Beckett when a startled look crossed her
face.
Turning to look behind him, he was shocked to see that Da'an and Nivian were
already in the room, standing beside Braedan's coffin. Swallowing hard, he moved
forward and placed his hands on his Companion's shoulders.
She turned haunted eyes
upon him. "He did not survive to adulthood," she whispered.
"We'll change that," he
answered in a gruff tone.
She looked beyond him
to the other side of the crypt. "Is that Zo'or?"
"We think it may be.
Nivian?"
She was already beside
the other coffin and as they moved to join her, she placed her hand upon the
skull and began crying silently, the tears running down her cheeks.
"It is
Zo'or," she choked. "He..."
Da'an took her free
hand. "Tell us," she pleaded.
In reply, Nivian stared
at them blankly and withdrawing her hands, moved over to Braedan's coffin.
Reaching inside, she moved the cloth about and picked up an object before
heading back to them.
When she stopped before
Da'an, they could see that she was offering them what appeared to be a
book!
"This is what Zo'or wished us to find," she muttered just before collapsing on
the floor.
In an instant, Boone
and Beckett were both kneeling on the ground beside her. Beckett cradled her
head as Boone checked her pulse and then gently rubbed her hands.
"I think
she's just passed out," he said, reaching for his global. In the next instant,
he had called for the medic, who promptly arrived with a stretcher and two
aides. In just minutes, they had evacuated her back to the nearest medical
facility.
During the medic's
triage of his patient, Boone had retrieved the old book from the ground and now
he, Da'an and Beckett stood in the field outside the crypt looking it
over.
A dry, cracked, leather cover protected the book and it was held closed with a
crude red cord. When Boone untied it and slowly spread it open, they could see
that it appeared to be made of crude paper which was carefully sewn
together.
Both afraid to
manipulate the delicate, dry pages and at the same time anxious to read its
contents, Boone very slowly folded back the first page.
He and Da'an stared at
each other.
The book was written in
the Taelon language, Eunoia!
Beckett glanced at both
of them. "So then," she commented, "it is written by Zo'or."
"Yes," Da'an replied.
"I recognize his hand."
Beckett placed a hand
on Boone's shoulder. "I need to return to the Embassy. Kha'rha has that
conference to attend. Will you be able to manage?"
"Of course. Go on," he
replied, his attention still focused on the book.
"Kha'rha has graciously
put all his resources at my service," Da'an answered her. "Please see to your
duties."
With a nod Beckett
wheeled around and left.
Reaching out, Da'an
gently took the book from him and slowly turned to the next page, and then the
next.
Anxiously he watched for a time and then finally lost his patience. "Are you
going to tell me what it says?" he asked.
Her gaze never left the
book. "It is the journal of someone known as Naoise," she answered, still
turning pages. "It is apparently the name Zo'or adopted in his exile."
She turned
the pages for a while longer and then froze.
Boone felt a strong
jolt of pain shoot through him and instantly cried, "What is it?"
Da'an turned
haunted, grief filled eyes upon him and began to read;
Naoise's Journal:
Today my
life has ended. I have lost the one person in this place that I...
Best to
come right out and admit it - that I love.
Braedan is dead. His
life lost in the worse possible way.
I cannot live with
this! I cannot! To think that I myself had to choose - that I had to be the one!
I keep telling myself that it was the only way and yet I cannot forgive myself.
My beautiful child is dead because I killed him.
He is - was thirteen
years of age and plotting to run off with one of the village girls. I had known
of his affection for her for several years and yet every attempt to reason him
out of such a relationship had failed.
He loved her and his
love for her had in the end caused him to resent me. As though it were my fault
that we are here! It was the portal or oblivion.
Braedan's attachment to
the girl would have seriously compromised the future and in the end I had to
choose between that future and him. I know that there is still a chance that all
of this will be undone - that my journal will be found and we will be rescued
long before this day and that is the only reason that I was able to carry out
this abominable deed.
My boy did not suffer.
In the end he never knew what had happened or even that I was there.
As he sat
on the bank of the river awaiting his lover, I came up behind him and hit him
over the head with a large stone. He collapsed instantly, unconscious and then
I...
I finished him with a
knife through the heart!
It is much
later now and I feel that I may be able to continue writing this - my final
journal entry.
Afterwards, I held him
and cried such tears that I thought I would surely die then and there. The pain
in my chest, in my head was unbearable. Is this what the humans refer to as a
broken heart? It must be, for it is the worst sensation in
imagination.
Not long after Braedan
journeyed to the void, his love showed up. As she knelt beside us and shrieked
upon finding him to be dead, I grabbed her arms and assaulted her mind. This
part of my Taelon heritage has at least not abandoned me. I was able to see in
her thoughts that she was not with child and that being the case, I pushed her
from me.
She scrambled to her
feet and ran back to the village, crying out that Braedan had been
killed.
When the elders arrived
and took him from me, I did not hide what I had done. I admitted it in the hope
that they would have me killed. Foolish thought. They still looked upon me as a
powerful, supernatural being. Rather than condemning me, they announced
that I had just cause to kill my child if he had not honored my rejection of his
choice of bride.
As I write this Braedan
is being interred in a crypt worthy of a king.
How ironic that it is
their way of honoring me.
I am not deserving of
anything....
In a short while I
shall say my good-byes to the empty shell which once housed him. I shall place
this journal in his hand.
And then I shall go
home to die.
Below is a drawing of
major monoliths and the sun's position at exactly mid day. By this means you
shall be able to calculate the date.
Da'an closed
the book and leaned against Boone, wrapping her arms about his waist. He held
onto her tightly.
The two of them
remained that way for a long, long time.
By dawn of the
following day, all was in readiness for the attempt at retrieving Braedan and
Zo'or. Boone had easily figured out the year and day on which Zo'or had written
his final journal entry. The rescue would be carried out so that they would be
returned less than one year after their arrival.
He would much have
preferred an attempt on the very day they had arrived in the past, but Da'an had
pointed out that they really had no way of knowing when Zo'or's first journal
entry had been made. If they returned him before the diary even existed... Well,
apparently all hell would break loose - or so the theory went.
Knowing that the portal
of the past was locked and could not take them home, Ban'hn had a portable one
similar to the ID jump stations created. Consisting of three separate portions -
two gate frames and a computerized brain, it could be easily carried by three
people.
Therefore three of them
would have to journey back.
Boone had already been
told in no uncertain terms by Da'an that he would not be one of them. With their
son lost in the past, she was not about to allow him to undertake so risky a
journey himself. Lazarus would go in his place. The strange doppleganger had
already volunteered and was more than eager to experience time travel.
Likewise,
Nivian's intention to go had been rejected, this time at Kha'rha's request.
Although he could not fully explain why he believed it to be so, he felt that so
long as Nivian and Zo'or's bond continued to span the centuries, the chance of
creating a paradox was lessened. He therefore remained adamant that Nivian
remain where she was.
Upon reflection, Boone
surmised that he meant that the bond would act as a sort of homing beacon. Even
though it might be little more than a theory or a Taelon hunch, they all
respected Kha'rha's wisdom too much to take any risks.
Nivian would remain
behind.
Amazingly enough, Augur
volunteered to go. He and Lili had arrived right after Boone's call informing
them of the discovery. Fascinated as he was by all Taelon technology, the
cyberwizard had absorbed as much information about the operation as he could and
was begging to be allowed to go. Lili had been very clear about the matter - she
was not about to allow him out of her sight. "With our luck he'd wander off to
investigate something and miss the boat back," she had grumbled. Still, Augur
had played his biggest card - that they needed someone who could repair the
device should something go wrong.
In the end the two
Companions agreed that he should go. That's when Lili joined the expedition.
"I'm not letting him out of my sight!" she exclaimed. "Besides, if something
goes wrong and he gets left behind, I plan on remaining as well."
The primary
gate, which would serve to send them back, had been transported from the Home
ship and it's set up took the better part of the morning to accomplish.
Although
Augur could be infuriatingly short on patience, in this case he showed admirable
restraint.
Boone had spent the
better part of the time watching both the preparations and the reactions of
those around him. Amazed by how calmly the cyberwizard had sat in a chair under
the canvas canopy, he eventually pulled a second chair up beside him and sat
down.
"Aren't you just itching to get going?" he teased. "Come on Augur, I know you
too well. Inside you're just dying to get the show on the road."
Augur snorted
loudly and made a big play of seeming put out, yet when he attempted to face
down Boone's unimpressed stare, he lost control and laughed. "Yeah, all right -
I admit it, but this boy intends to get home for dinner. These guys may be
Taelon scientists, but I'm not about increase the likelihood of a mistake by
making them nervous!"
"Augur, Taelons don't
get nervous."
"That's what they'd
like you to believe. You forget that I had a good look at Zo'or's face just
after that Jaridian probe vaporized Kee'sha!"
"Point taken." Rising
to his feet, Boone dealt his friend a friendly slap on the back and
withdrew.
Walking the
circumference of the archeological zone, he pinpointed Lili an Nivian. Both were
sitting at a folding table with Beckett. The Irish Companion's chief Implant was
apparently taking their minds off what lay ahead by teaching them a new card
game.
As usual she was winning.
Moving on, he spotted
Kha'rha talking quietly with Ban'hn near the primary portal and was surprised
that Da'an wasn't with them. Instantly he realized that Lazarus was nowhere to
be seen either and a suspicion began to form.
If they hadn't left the
site, they would both have to be in the mess tent about a hundred feet away. It
was the only structure nearby with any privacy to it, except of course, for the
portable loo.
Moving towards its back
wall, he got close enough to tell that a conversation was occurring within and
driven more by curiosity than jealousy, he circled towards the open wall.
He arrived
just in time to hear Da'an raise her voice in alarm.
"Lazarus, do not do
this!"
"I'm sorry," the man replied, as he reached out and gripped her forearm, "but I
really haven't any other options left."
She covered his hand
with her own. "I know."
There was an
uncomfortably long silence while they looked at each other and then Lazarus
withdrew his hand and with a bitter look behind him at Boone, turned and left
the tent.
Realizing that they had
both known he was there, Boone moved to stand beside Da'an. "Sorry - was I
interrupting something?"
Her eyes remained on
the other man's retreating back. "No."
He became alarmed.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing that can be
corrected," she said, almost under her breath. With a troubled glance at him,
she in turn left the tent.
Boone stood and watched
as she moved to join Kha'rha and Ban'hn, suddenly deeply troubled by the dark
mood that seemed to have descended upon her.
It was fast approaching four in the
afternoon and a light rain had begun falling when Augur patted him on the back,
drawing him back to the here and now.
"Wake up, it's time to
go," the cyberwizard announced.
Lazarus sat back in his
chair, only then becoming aware of how soaked his clothing had become. He
shrugged. It made no difference in the grand scheme of things. Realizing that
Augur was watching him with some concern, he stood and sighed.
"I'm fine," he assured
his friend.
"You sure? I don't need
to be baby-sitting you where we're headed."
"Baby-sit me?" Lazarus
snorted. "Come on - I'm coming along just to help Lili keep YOU out of
trouble."
They both chuckled and
then they were being handed their gear. Lili joined them and Augur did a
double-take.
"Cher, that does not
suit you!" he chastised, as he looked her up and down.
Lili plucked at the
coarse material of her robe. "Maybe not, but at least I'll blend in with the
natives. So will Lazarus - he's also smart enough to have dressed down for this
trip. You on the other hand will probably end up being sacrificed to ensure that
some offended God doesn't make the crops fail!"
"Phaaah!" Augur
responded, apparently unwilling to change out of his black leather pants and
silver shirt. "Chances are good that none of the natives are going to see me.
I'm staying with the equipment, remember?"
"Leave him be, Lili,"
Lazarus said, with a shake of his head. "As it stands, he'll probably be able to
scare them all away from our equipment merely by standing next to it."
Whatever the
cyberwizard's response would have been, it was lost as Boone, Beckett and the
Taelons arrived next to the gate.
"OK," Boone announced.
"Let's get this show on the road. Anyone having second thoughts?"
They all
looked at each other and shook their heads.
"Good," the Implant
continued. "Just do this the way we discussed and everything should work out.
Good luck to all of you and thank you all for doing this for us!" He shook
Augur's hand, but hugged both Lili and Lazarus.
Lazarus shot a look at
Da'an, hoping that she would at least say good-bye, but she remained standing
silently behind Boone. Her eyes held his own for a brief moment and they were
full of resignation. Perhaps he was deluding himself, but he thought that he saw
sorrow and regret there as well.
Then he was being
handed a small backpack and his portion of the return gate.
The local portal was
activated.
The landscape on
the other side of it's archway looked normal and unchanged, yet it thrummed with
power. Although he couldn't actually hear it, he could feel it in his
bones.
"We'll be seeing you in a few minutes," Augur said, just before he stepped
through and vanished.
Lili followed close
behind.
Lazarus looked at Da'an
again, but her head was turned away. Then he too was stepping through...
The rain had
stopped. The sun had backtracked to a position it had taken earlier that
morning. The sky was blue, the air crisp and chilly.
They were still in
Strandhill.
"Wow..." Lili turned in
a circle, her face full of both excitement and amazement.
The pasture bore some
of the landmarks of the field they had left, and yet only some of the landmarks
were present. The major monoliths looked much as they had only a minute ago,
though slightly less worn. It was the crypt stones which had changed most. Many
of them were missing - most likely not yet in place.
"Even the air smells
different!" Lili pointed out. "Fresher, somehow."
He sniffed again and
had to agree with her. There was something almost electric about the crispness
of it.
"That's just the residual effect from the portal," Augur replied. "The energy
bleed from our passage is what you're picking up on." He pointed towards a small
hill. "Let's set up on the other side of that. We'll be pretty much invisible to
anyone arriving from the village."
Following behind him,
they chose a level area where he had indicated and began placing their
components. He and Lili took what they needed from their equipment bags and then
handed them over to Augur.
"OK, I'm all set," the
cyberneticist announced. "You two might as well get the show on the road while I
set our transportation up."
"How long will it take
you?" Lili asked.
"Nothing's changed.
Like I said before we left, two hours maximum."
"We'll be back by
then," Lazarus replied. "But even if we're late - stay put! Don't follow us. If
we're not here before five, you go back through that thing and get help."
"I know the
drill." Augur looked uncomfortable. "Be careful, though. I don't want to have to
leave this baby unattended, even to summon help."
They nodded and began
walking towards the village.
Before they had even
crested the ridge, Augur was back at work, everything else forgotten.
"You see him yet?" Lili's voice whispered from directly next to
him, causing him to jump violently.
Lowering his
binoculars, he gave her a sour look. "Not yet," he replied, before raising them
back up to his eyes. "How about you?"
"No, nothing. The trees
are too dense on the other side. I couldn't see anything."
They were lying on
their bellies in the leaves at the base of the tree line, Lili having just
returned from a trip to the other side of the village.
He lowered the
binoculars again and looked at her. "The village is difficult to see through.
Those huts make for great privacy."
"Then I should go
in."
"I think you'd blend in better than I do."
Lili looked at his pale
hair and shook her head. "Yeah, you could never pass for a local. Besides,
you're too tall. At least I'm short and my hair is dark. There are a few people
around with dark hair."
"Don't talk to anyone,"
he cautioned as she got to her feet.
"Don't worry, I plan on
just making a quick trip straight through the center of town."
Covering her head with
a hood, she headed into the village at an unhurried pace, looking for all the
world as though she had every right to be there.
Lazarus put his
binoculars away and waited, ready to cover her and run like hell if need
be.
In
the end, he didn't have long to wait.
About fifteen minutes
after she left, she was back, an excited look on her face.
"You found them, then?"
he asked, as she squatted down beside him and looked back in the direction she
had come from.
Her face became
troubled. "Yes, but you'd better brace yourself..."
"For what?"
"Zo'or lied
to us in his journal. He led us to believe that if we traveled back now that we
would be arriving only months after he and Braedan did..."
He felt his eyes widen
as Zo'or emerged from behind one of the village huts, a young boy of perhaps
five years in tow. Shocked, he rounded on Lili. "This is unacceptable! What are
you going to tell Boone and Da'an?"
"What do you mean, what
am I going to tell them?" she countered.
He gripped her hand and
made to drag her back towards the pasture where Augur awaited them, but she
resisted and snatched her arm away.
"Let go of me!" she
hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"We're going back so
that we can arrive in the proper time!"
She looked back towards
the Synod Leader and Braedan, who were now hurrying in their direction. "We
can't just cut out on them!"
"I promise you that
they won't remember a thing..." Again he took her arm and started to pull her
away.
Again she pulled free. "We can't!" she argued. "We don't know why Zo'or misled
us. He might have had a very good reason!"
"Yeah, I imagine that
loving a child is reason enough," he snorted.
"I don't
understand."
He explained, "The last
thing that any parent would want is to forget the love of their child. Zo'or
couldn't bear the thought that we would undo all his years with Braedan."
They watched
as Zo'or rapidly closed the distance between them and then found themselves
staring at each other.
"We can't take that
away from him, Lazarus," Lili whispered. "No matter what he may have done in the
past, we don't have that right."
He sighed as he watched
the Taelon swing Braedan up into his arms and carry him over the deepest of the
bramble. The boy wrapped his arms about the alien leader's neck and held on
tightly. "You're right," he conceded. "We don't have that right. Boone and Da'an
will have to be thankful for getting their child back - even if they've missed
out on his infancy."
Then Zo'or
arrived.
"Lazarus," he greeted,
looking him over. "You are the last person I would have expected to help mount
my rescue."
"It's Braedan's rescue
as well," he replied. He held his hand out. "The journal," he demanded.
The Synod
Leader raised an eye ridge in surprise, but handed it over without a question.
"You will need to know the language and customs," he warned.
Lazarus hid the book in
his shirt and then held his hand out, palm outward.
Zo'or met it with his
own.
One minute later they dropped their hands and Lazarus shook his head to clear
it. Already he was absorbing the information he had been fed and the sense of
vertigo was lessening.
"Wait! What's going on
here?" he heard Lili ask.
"Lazarus is remaining
in my stead," Zo'or replied.
He blinked and became
aware of Lili's frightened expression as she stared at him.
"You can't stay!" she
protested.
"He not only can, but
he must," Zo'or explained. "Without someone familiar with my journal to see that
it is completed and hidden, we will all be lost in a paradox large enough to
undo everything. As it stands, this may well be risky."
"It's all right, Lili,"
Lazarus tried to assure her. "I figured it all out yesterday. I have to be the
one to do it - there is no one else."
"What about one of the
other implants?" she asked, nearly in tears.
"We can't ask someone
else to sacrifice themselves. In addition to possessing an Implant which has
allowed me to memorize the diary, I have free will. I, unlike any other Implants
besides Boone, at least have made the choice willingly."
Her voice broke. "Boone
knows?"
He dropped his eyes.
"No. He hadn't quite figured it out yet, but you'll have to forgive him his
unusual slowness. He's had a lot on his mind, " he explained, trying to keep his
voice even and amused. It still sounded strained even to his ears.
"Da'an knew
then? It wasn't Kha'rha who asked you?" She wiped at her eyes with her
sleeve.
"Da'an never asked me.
I volunteered. She was against me going, but Lili, surely you can see why it has
to be this way!"
She wrapped her arms
around him then, hugging him close as the tears were finally unleashed. "I
know," she sniffed. "I'm so sorry!"
As tears began to well
up in his own eyes, he swallowed and pushed her gently away. "So am I," he
admitted, shrugging off and handing her his backpack.
They stared at each
other for a few seconds.
"You'd best be going,"
he finally said, breaking the heartrending silence.
Without a word, Zo'or
turned and began walking through the woods towards the place where he had first
arrived five years earlier. With a final sad look back at Lazarus, Lili turned
and followed.
He stood and watched
them go, noting with amazement that Zo'or still carried Braedan, holding on to
him protectively. The boy clung tightly to Zo'or and stared back over his
adoptive parent's shoulder.
On the child's face was
an expression of such gratitude and admiration that it mad him bite his lower
lip to stop it from trembling.
He had accomplished
something good after all. Somehow he knew that he would never regret his
decision and that brought him a great deal of comfort.
When he was certain
that they were out of sight, he turned and headed into the village to meet his
destiny.
After his
friends disappeared through the portal, Boone moved to Da'an's side and took her
hand, gripping it tightly.
There was nothing to do
but wait and see if luck was on their side. If it wasn't, then Braedan would be
lost to them, or worse yet - he would return and then they'd all be consumed by
the one thing which terrified the Taelons even more than the Jaridians...
Paradox!
Boone forced himself to
breath normally. All would be well, he kept repeating to himself. Their desire
to see their son again would not destroy the world...
The portal shimmered,
drawing gasps from all around it.
Then a leg appeared and
Lili stepped through. She instantly moved aside and a new leg appeared - one
that was covered in a crude woolen robe.
Zo'or stepped through
and he was holding a boy of about five years.
Boone felt his mouth
drop open when the child looked at him and had to force himself to close it.
There could be no doubt that it was his son!
At the same time that
he felt Da'an's shock, Lili explained what had happened. "Zo'or doctored the
diary so that we wouldn't rescue them until Braedan was five," she
announced.
It didn't seem to
matter to Da'an. She was already collecting Braedan from Zo'or, and the two of
them, mother and child, clung together in a sharing of profoundly tender
proportions.
He moved forward and
threw his arms around them, reveling in the mental joining of his reunited
family. Although Braedan was no longer an infant, his mind still joined theirs
in a familiar way, striking a chord which nearly brought tears to his
eyes.
They were one. His family was whole once more.
As Augur
stepped through the portal, Nivian moved forward to greet Zo'or and immediately
sensed that something was wrong. The Synod Leader seemed confused and
distracted, barely noticing anything that was occurring around him.
She stopped
in front of him. "Zo'or?"
Still, he continued to
stare off into the distance, a look of terror slowly collecting upon his
face.
"Zo'or!" she cried.
That seemed to get his
attention. Starting suddenly, he seemed to focus on her.
"Nivian?"
Then she was
on him, throwing her arms around his too thin form and hugging him
tightly.
He clung to her
fiercely as well, his cheek against her own, but she could feel him shaking and
felt his fear.
"Zo'or, what's wrong?"
she asked, drawing back to look at him.
"I am back then? I
am... back?" he asked, clearly still confused.
She felt her heart turn
cold with dread. Had his mind snapped? Could Taelons lose their sanity? She met
Kha'rha's eyes and saw the worry on his face.
"You're home," she
assured Zo'or. "I'm here - really here with you and Braedan is here as well.
You're safe!"
His eyes were unfocused
again. "No..." he breathed. "I am not safe. You should not have rescued me. You
should have left me to rot away where I was!"
Now terrified and aware
that even Da'an and Boone had broken off their happy reunion and knew something
was very wrong, she attempted to initiate a sharing.
Zo'or immediately
pushed her from him.
"Do not do that!" he
commanded, sounding once more like his old self. "Do not ever seek to unleash
that which I hold within! It cannot ever be as it once was between us."
As she stood
there, stunned and near tears, he turned towards the others.
"Come. I am weary of
this place. It is past time that we return to civilization!" That said, he
marched off in the direction of the nearest shuttle.
Behind her there was
dead silence for a moment or two and then people began picking up equipment and
dispersing. She saw Kha'rha and Beckett moving towards Zo'or and the shuttle
while whispering quickly to each other. Then she saw Da'an pass her. The
Companion was carrying Braedan.
"Wait! Where's
Lazarus?" Boone suddenly yelled.
Turning, she could see
that he was almost frantic as he spun to face Augur and Lili.
Da'an stopped dead in
her tracks for a moment as Augur announced that the Implant wasn't coming back,
then she slowly continued on her way, her shoulders suddenly sagging.
"What do you
mean, he's not coming back?" Boone's voice was rising.
Lili stepped in.
"Someone had to remain behind," she explained. "Apparently even Da'an was aware
that this had to happen so that a paradox could be avoided."
"What?!"
"Boone, he
has to finish writing the journal for Zo'or and when the time comes, he has to
hide it where we can find it," she continued.
"And where might that
be?" he asked, suddenly confused. "I don't remember where we got it..."
They scanned
the area around them, completely confused by their lapse in memory.
Nivian's eyes
instantly went to the place where they had uncovered the diary. She could
remember everything and their behavior was making her even more frightened than
she had been.
She gasped and nearly
fainted.
The tomb which they had
unearthed was gone, the ground unbroken and even the marking stone had
vanished.
Behind her she could
hear Augur explaining to Boone that Lazarus would also see to it that the portal
they had transported was demolished and hidden. The three of them seemed to have
completely forgotten even their conversation about the journal.
So why was it that she
remembered everything? Could it be that Zo'or did also? Was that why he seemed
so... haunted?
"Boone," she called out
in a daze, "we need to be going."
Looking dazed himself,
the commander shook his head and followed her to the shuttle.
Nivian sat beside
Zo'or in the shuttle and tried repeatedly to capture his attention. By the time
they were exiting interdimensional space above the Washington Embassy, she knew
that she was fighting a losing battle.
Despite Braedan's
obvious joy and excitement at having his first shuttle ride, both Da'an and
Boone kept shooting worried looks in their direction. They seemed keenly aware
that something serious was happening to the Synod Leader.
As soon as the shuttle
touched down, he was out of his seat and out the door.
As she made to follow,
Boone clapped a hand on her shoulder and stopped her.
"Let him go," he said.
"He's been through a lot and maybe he just needs to work things out in his
head."
"That's the problem," she breathed. "He won't be able to work anything out. He's
insane..."
Stepping quickly out of
the shuttle, she went after him, but he had already vanished. After a half hour
of searching, she conceded that it might be best to let him come to her when he
was ready. Security would notify them if he tried to leave the Embassy - Da'an
would see to that. In the meantime, she would not be able to corner him if he
did not wish her to.
By the
following afternoon, Nivian had given up on the idea of Zo'or seeking her out
and instead went searching for him. Using their link as a type of empathic
homing beacon, she finally cornered him in the tunnels beneath the
Embassy.
He, of course, was
instantly aware of her presence.
"Leave this place,"
echoed his voice in the dim corridor.
Walking around a
pillar, she spotted him leaning heavily against the wall. "Why are you
avoiding me?" she asked, slowly moving closer still.
He pushed away from the
wall and shoved her aside as he moved past her.
Recovering, she went
after him. "Answer me!" she demanded.
He continued moving
away from her, refusing to reply.
Finally, driven by
anger, fear and pain, she lunged forward and snatched at his arm. Her fingers
managed to grasp the cloth of his sleeve and she spun him around to face
her.
She was not prepared for the sight which met her eyes. He was deathly pale, the
area around his eyes dark and sunken. The biggest shock of all was the vacant
stare and the obvious tears which ran down his cheeks and dripped off his nose.
For the first time she noted just how thin he really was. He looked as though he
were wasting away.
Swallowing quickly, she
tried to reason with him. "Zo'or, you must tell me what's troubling you. Surely
we can face it together."
He shook his head from
side to side as a sob escaped him. "I cannot explain it," he finally managed to
choke out.
She wrapped her arms
around him and pulled him close. In just a moment, his own arms encircled her
and his head rested on her shoulder.
He held her so tightly
that she could barely draw breath.
"Try to explain," she
coaxed.
"How did you find me?"
he whispered.
"We found your
diary."
He shivered violently.
"Where?"
She was about to
respond, when she suddenly realized that she didn't know the answer. Drawing
back a bit, she met his terrified gaze.
"You don't know
anymore, do you?" he asked. "Now that I have been brought back, time has
rearranged itself, erasing all your memories of what happened to me after the
time I was pulled from."
Just trying to grasp
that idea made her head ache. "Is that what's troubling you? Why are you so
upset that a possible future in which you do not return for years longer, if at
all, has faded away?"
His eyes flared a
brilliant blue even as a pale blush ran across his face. "Because I remember
those years!" he wailed. "I am experiencing waking nightmares in which I am
still there and for what I did, there can be no forgiveness!"
He pushed her away and
began moving back up the corridor.
She began to follow.
"Zo'or!" she yelled after him, "There is nothing to forgive! It never
happened!"
"It did!" he yelled
back. "It did!"
Then he was gone and
she was left alone. She stopped and stood still in the dim corridor, shocked and
unnerved by his behavior. It was so unlike him as to be mind boggling.
"You do love
me. You took me in and cared for me when no one else would..."
The voice - a woman's
sounded clearly in the corridor near her, yet when she spun around in a circle
there was no one there.
Nivian felt the hair on
her neck stand on end and the corridor suddenly seemed icy and
frightening.
"Braedan forgive
me!"
This time it was Zo'or's voice echoing off in the opposite direction from that
in which he had gone.
More frightened than
she had ever been in her life, she broke into a run and flew back to the Embassy
in search of Da'an.
"I fear that a
paradox has been created." Da'an stood before the audience chamber windows,
fingers jittering wildly, her agitation apparent in every aspect of her face and
form.
Nivian shivered violently. She felt as though she had been shaking for hours,
yet she had been in the underground corridor only ten minutes ago. "But only
Zo'or and I have experienced anything out of the ordinary," she whispered.
"Braedan is OK, isn't he?"
Da'an turned an alarmed
look upon her. "He is with Boone and I feel no agitation. Still..." Turning, she
moved to the ramp which led to her chamber and climbed it quickly.
Nivian
followed close behind, unwilling to be left alone for even a few minutes. When
Da'an opened the doorway and stepped in, she followed.
They both sighed with
relief. Boone was fast asleep on the bed, his son cradled against his side. Both
slept peacefully, their breathing deep and even.
Again Nivian felt a
jolt of shock run through her at the change in Braedan. Five years - he was five
years old! Only a few days ago he had been a very small baby.
As they left the
chamber she placed a hand on Da'an's back. "How are you two coping with this?"
she asked.
Da'an spoke slowly, her
words carefully chosen. "It is difficult in some ways and yet he is still our
child. Our link with him has reasserted itself and despite his very strong
attachment to Zo'or, we feel that he shall adapt well."
"But what about you and
Boone? The shock..."
"Is wearing off," she
finished. "In many ways I miss my infant, and yet I am so grateful that he is at
least here with us."
"I'm so sorry. I don't
know why Zo'or misled us with regard to the last journal entry."
Da'an stared
at her. "Don't you, though?" she asked.
"He didn't want what he
had shared with Braedan to be lost?" she answered, still questioning whether her
theory was correct.
Da'an looked away for a
moment and when she turned back there was compassion in her gaze. "He thought of
Braedan as his child. Despite the hardship in remaining in your past, he could
not bring himself to surrender those memories. None of us can blame him for
that."
They reached the audience chamber and Da'an took Nivian's hand. "Enough about
us," she said. "Let us consider your problem."
"Does the paradox have
something to do with my link to Zo'or?"
"I fear that it must."
Da'an moved to stand before her datastream. "For some reason, Zo'or retains
memories of events which have been negated by his rescue. Your linkage to a
place in the parallel reality from which we launched the rescue has somehow
helped to preserve a portion of that reality and Zo'or's past by creating a
bridge between them."
"What do we do? It's
driving him mad - and no wonder. If what I felt briefly in that passageway is
only a fraction of what he is experiencing, then we don't have much time left in
which to save him!"
"Let us consult
Kha'rha. He first saw the possibility of your link carrying over."
"How do you
know that?"
"It is why he would not
allow you to travel to the past."
"I have no memory of
that!" Nivian whispered. "How is it that you do? Do you remember the
rescue?"
They stared at each
other in shock.
Finally Da'an spoke. "I
do not remember anything other than that one event..." Reaching a decision, she
waved the datastream open.
Kha'rha appeared
instantly. "Da'an, I feared that you might be contacting me," he said.
"Then you are
experiencing the anomaly as well?"
"Yes. I recall events
which Beckett has no memory of. Is this what is troubling you?"
"No. Such things may be
expected given the circumstances. We have a bigger problem."
The elder Taelon
nodded, even as his broad shoulders seemed to wilt. "Zo'or," he stated.
"Yes. He
retains memory of the alternate reality."
"His link with
Nivian..." Kha'rha stopped and looked uncomfortable.
"What about our link?"
Nivian asked.
"Somehow he must break
his bond to you. I surmise that once it is severed his memories will be
lost."
"Break our bond?" She was horrified. "No! There has to be another way!"
"I fear that
I cannot think of one," Kha'rha responded. "Somehow you both must find the
courage to sever it while Zo'or is still able to." That said, he broke the
transmission and faded out.
Nivian turned
frightened eyes upon Da'an, who gathered her close and did her best to comfort
her.
Braedan awoke
with a start to find himself in strange surroundings. The Embassy. He was with
his parents - back in his own time. Wiping the sweat from his face he sidled off
the bed and stared at the man who still slept there.
William Boone - his
father. How strange to feel so close an attachment to someone who in many ways
was little more than a stranger. When he had been enfolded in Da'an's arms an
amazing thing had happened. All that she was and had been had become a part of
him. He was a part of her, of his mother in a way that no non Taelon could ever
comprehend. He saw everything through her eyes. He knew William Boone for the
amazing man he was. In short, he remembered his prenatal development and
everything after from both his perspective and theirs.
It was a linkage which
was at once stronger and more vivid than the one he shared with those humans he
had grown to know. It was stronger, but not as vivid.
Mentally shaking
himself, he concentrated on a different link - the one he shared with Zo'or.
Something was frightfully wrong! It was what had given him the unspeakable
nightmares which had awakened him. Trying to feel along the link, he found that
it was twisted and distorted. Any attempt to establish closer contact left him
nauseated and ill.
Quietly moving to the
doorway, he slipped from the chamber and quietly made his way down the
ramp.
In the audience chamber, Zo'or's mate - the one named Nivian, cried in his
mother's embrace. Squatting down on the ramp, he froze and listened to what was
being said.
He staggered
down the path which led to the fountain, only dimly aware that he was out in the
garden. Pressing his hands tightly against his ears, he tried vainly to shut out
the voices which haunted him.
"No!" he finally
shrieked, as he again saw Braedan fall before him. The rock which wasn't really
in his hands vanished at the same time that he collapsed to the cold earth. He
lay on the icy concrete walkway for a long time as the cold slowly seeped into
his limbs and numbed him. Better that he die now - that he fall asleep and never
waken, for there was no other way out of this nightmare.
"Zo'or."
He opened his
eyes at the sound of his name and saw Braedan standing before him. "Be gone," he
groaned. "You won't be able to hurt me much longer."
The boy moved forward
and sat beside him. "I'm not a ghost," he said, reaching out to take his hands.
"I'm alive. You didn't kill me. It never happened."
He gripped the small,
warm hands, despite himself, wanting desperately to believe that what he was
being told was true. "I did do it," he whispered brokenly. "I see it, I feel it
happen over and over. You're not safe with me..."
Braedan pulled at his
hands and he felt himself sitting up so that he would not lose hold of
him.
"Where are you, Zo'or?" the boy asked.
"In hell. In hell!" he
hissed. "I believe in that human superstition now!"
The child looked
alarmed, but then a determined expression came over his face. His grip on
Zo'or's hands became stronger still and then...
There was a shocking
sensation as he felt Braedan invade his mind! The boy easily outmaneuvered him,
slipping past his defenses and making right for the place where Nivian lived
within him. Even as he realized what was happening, it was too late.
His bond with
his mate was severed!
The sudden, unexpected
rebound was horrifying, as a twisted fragment of reality unraveled and lashed
about before ceasing to exist.
Zo'or thought he heard
himself screaming.
Then there was
nothing.
Back in the
audience chamber Da'an stiffened and cried out at the same instant that Nivian
did.
Upstairs, Boone sat bolt upright in bed and did the same.
It took precious
minutes before Da'an could think, let alone regain her feet. Braedan was in
trouble!
She reached down to
help Nivian up and realized that the woman was unconscious. She would have to
leave her for now. Moving as quickly as she could despite the lingering
dizziness, she headed for the ramp which would take her to the central hub and
from there to the garden. She was not at all surprised to meet Boone along the
way.
"What the hell was that?" he asked as he broke into a run and passed her in the
passageway.
"Braedan has severed
Zo'or's link with Nivian!" She panted out as she attempted to keep up with him.
It was little use - in seconds he was out of sight.
She entered the garden
only a minute later to find both Boone and Braedan kneeling next to Zo'or.
Relief flooded her as she realized that their child was not harmed and moving to
him, she took his arm and pulled him to a stand so that she could embrace
him.
He was a mass of confusion and fright. There was no doubt that he had severed
the link which bound Zo'or and Nivian. He remembered doing so and he remembered
that it had to be done. He just could not recall why!
Still, she pushed him
to try to explain it, knowing that such an action could not simply be condoned
or ignored. It was, after all, an assault on the Synod Leader!
Braedan shivered as the
magnitude of what he had done struck home. With his arms wrapped tightly about
her waist and burying his cheek against her torso, he communicated a single
thought, his only explanation, to her;
Paradox!
Instantly it
reverberated throughout the Commonality, causing a flurry of fearful reactions
followed by the withdrawal of those Synod members who had been investigating
their Leader's assault. It seemed that Braedan had been instantly cleared
of wrongdoing.
Da'an transferred her
attention to Boone. "How is he?"
Her Implant looked up.
"Hard to say. I'd better get him inside before he freezes to death though."
Rising, he easily lifted the unconscious Taelon and carried him inside while
Da'an made for the nearest datastream with Braedan and summoned Dr.
Belman.
A blinding
headache woke her up. Opening her eyes, she was at first confused, then
nauseated. Where was she? With a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare
streaming through the skylight, she realized that she was in Da'an and Boone's
chamber.
Rolling onto her side,
she waited for her stomach to settle. It was then that she felt a weight come
down on the bed behind her.
"Nivian," came Da'an's
voice as the Companion's hand made contact with her fevered brow. "relax and
breath deeply."
She did and the pain in
her head seemed to instantly vanish. In many ways Taelons were far superior to
pain meds.
"What happened?" she
asked after a few minutes, as she struggled to raise herself on an elbow.
"Where's Zo'or? Is he all right?"
Da'an gently pushed her
back over onto her back and then continued to stroke her forehead with cool,
soothing hands. "He is in his chamber recuperating. Whatever the danger to you
and him, it seems to be gone now."
"Our link - why did it
snap?"
"Snap?" Nivian rolled over and saw the confusion on the Companion's face. "Your
bond did not snap." She finally replied. "It was intentionally severed by
Braedan."
"But... why?"
"He can no
longer remember anything other than that it had something to do with a paradox
created by Zo'or's rescue. He seems convinced that had he not acted, Zo'or would
have entered the void."
Nivian rolled off the
bed and stood up. "I have to see him."
"Very well, however you
should know that he is in no condition to re-establish your bond at this time,"
Da'an replied, rising as well. The Companion escorted her to the door.
"Then, it
will be safe to bond again when he's stronger?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes. Braedan
seems to think that the severing of the bond ended the paradox and that a new
attachment will not result in any misfortune."
Nivian took and
squeezed Da'an's hands gently by way of thanks and with a grateful nod, left the
upper chamber. As she made her way slowly down the ramp towards the audience
chamber, she tried to sort through the confusion in her head.
She had been talking to
Da'an about something urgent - something which upset her, when she had felt her
tie to Zo'or snap. What had gotten her so upset? Why couldn't she
remember?
Shaking the cobwebs
from her mind, she hit the landing and was about to exit the audience chamber
when she saw Braedan standing there staring at her. He looked so sad that she
couldn't help but stop to console him.
"Braedan," she began.
"it's OK. I know that you did what you had to do."
A small smile appeared
on his face but then quickly faded. Stepping forward, he held out his hand to
her.
When she took it, she felt his mind make contact with her own and was amazed
once more by the power of it. So many thoughts communicated themselves to her
that she nearly blanked out. It was too much to sort through!
He broke the contact
and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was just trying to make up for the pain I
caused you and Zo'or. You'll understand later, though."
Before she could
respond, he was gone - running up the ramp to his parent's chamber.
Nivian
massaged her temples and took a few deep breaths. "Please tell me that it won't
always be this confusing," she muttered. "Please tell me that he'll settle down
soon..."
With a sigh, she
staggered along her way.
Boone returned
to the Embassy late. He had been seeing to Da'an's affairs - meeting important
government officials in her stead so that she could spend some time with
Braedan. He really didn't mind pinch-hitting for her on occasion, but he had to
admit that being the North American Companion was not all mystery and intrigue.
The hand pumping part of the job really left much to be desired. Even now, he
shuddered as he thought back on the saccharin smiles and patently false
overtures of friendship he had endured.
Nope, he was an Implant
- part cop, part bodyguard, part man Friday and that was the way he liked
it!
A
smile crossed his face as he thought ahead to the surprise he had brought his
son.
Moving to the kitchen, he waited for Da'an to bring him down - she had, of
course, felt him arrive and knew what he was planning.
When they entered the
room, he took the Burger King bag out from behind his back and held it up for
the boy to see.
"Son," he said with a
grin, "It's time to learn about 'junk' food!"
Nivian's heart
flip-flopped when she entered Zo'or's chamber and saw him. He looked so pale and
thin lying in the large bed that at first she feared that he was dead. Coming to
a stop a few steps away she stared at him and it was only when he cracked his
eyes open that she began breathing again.
A ghost of a smile lit
his face as he held a hand out to her.
In an instant she was
kneeling beside the bed, his hand in hers, her other hand gently stroking his
cheek. Everywhere they touched, the familiar, electrifyingly pleasurable
sensation occurred. It was much stronger - more intense than it had previously
been and she realized that he desperately needed to recharge.
"You need your energy
stream," she murmured. "You're exhausted - you've been through so
much..."
He leaned towards her
and tangled the fingers of his free hand into the hair at the base of her skull,
gently pulling her face close.
"I no longer require an
energy stream, nor do I desire one" he whispered, as his softly glowing eyes
seemed to consume her. "Five years, Nivian - five long years without you! Never
before have I been so keenly aware of the passage of time. It's you that I
require - you that I need."
He kissed her then. It
started gently, as though he were slowly getting reacquainted with her and then
it built in intensity until she felt her legs trembling.
"Come here," he
demanded, pulling her by the arm.
Allowing him to pull
her forward, she found herself sliding into the bed beside him as she tried to
catch her breath.
Instantly his arms were
around her, pulling her close as he rolled so that they were chest to chest with
her looking down at him. Again a hand came up so that he could run his fingers
through her hair and his eyes closed briefly, as though the sensation were
almost too much for him.
This time it was she
who leaned in close and kissed him. Again it went on for what seemed like
minutes. When they were both short of breath, she slid her cheek against his and
nibbled at his earlobe as they tried to catch their breath.
Zo'or let his breath
out in a hiss as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and began squirming beneath
her. Excited by the effect on him, she redoubled her exploration of his ear.
Soon she felt his hands caress her back and then slip down to knead her
bottom.
After just a minute, he
turned his head so that he could kiss her again and that seemed to ignite
something within him. He began fanatically nudging her, desperately attempting
to shift her so that she would be completely astride him.
Feeling herself losing
control, she complied.
And froze.
Pulling her
head back, she stared at him in shock.
There was no disguising
the smug look on his face. "Much has changed in the five years I was away," he
whispered in a voice that sounded both husky and at the same time suspiciously
close to laughter.
"So I see - ur...
feel!"
Suddenly Zo'or gripped her shoulders and rolled her onto her back. Pinning her
hands to the bed above her head, he now lay astride her, pressing his pelvis
against her while he took the time to nibble her ears.
Her initial squeal of
surprise quickly became a purr as he worked on her lobes.
When he raised his head
a minute later, he wore a superior look, but then sighed and became
serious.
"Nivian, when I
traveled back, I lost touch with the Commonality. It was so strange - in the
very back of my mind I could feel their presence, after all, they did still
exist in that time. But they were so very far away that I found myself
effectively cut off. Still, I had Braedan with me and Ma'el also was still alive
then. The touch of their minds was enough to keep me from an atavistic state.
After Ma'el joined the void, there was only Braedan and I soon came to realize
that I had begun to change, to slowly regress to a more matter-based
form."
"Like Da'an?"
"Yes." Again, he
stroked her hair. "Something else was happening in my case. Braedan..." He
paused for a moment as though still incredulous. "Braedan feels other humans in
much the same way that I experience the Commonality."
She suddenly made sense
of the strange sensations she had picked up from the boy only a short time ago.
"Are you saying that there is a sort of human commonality?" she asked.
He nodded.
"There were several Kimera sent to Ma'el by Quo'on." He placed a finger on her
lips to silence the flurry of questions she was about to ask. "We shall discuss
this more at another time. All you need know now is that the Kimera bred with
many of the humans in the area and then moved on. Those humans Braedan is linked
to all have Kimera ancestry. They have inherited our ability to join their
minds, although most do not seem actively aware of this."
"How could they not
know?"
"I told you the story of Katya. Her psychic powers were nothing more than the
sharing of knowledge through the link. Unlike others with her abilities, she
actually came to understand her gift for what it truly was. Many humans have
what you refer to as good luck, strong intuitions, amazing social graces. They
are all manifestations of a human linkage."
Nivian thought for a
while and had a sudden explanation for his condition. "You were relying on a
link with Braedan and yet he was linked with the other humans."
"Yes. And so you find
me as I now am - male." Moving sinuously, he rubbed his torso against her own as
he released her wrists and instead ran his hands down her neck and over her
chest.
"You seem suddenly energetic," she gasped.
He raised his head and
grinned wickedly. "You have an amazing ability to revitalize me." Leaning down,
he kissed her.
Then she lost interest
in everything but him...
Boone found
himself jolted awake, and was momentarily both startled and confused.
Unfortunately his memory of the dream he had been having soon returned as he
came to realize that he was experiencing an intrusion. Zo'or's conciousness was
flooding the Commonality link, drowning everything else out.
Besides him, he was
vaguely aware of Da'an communicating with security over his global. She was
telling them to stay away from the Synod Leader's chamber, regardless of what
they might hear.
"Oh no..." he groaned
as her words sank in and the sensations he was experiencing began to
peak.
In a flash which left him short of breath and sweaty, it was over.
Boone lay on
his back in bed and rubbed his face briskly with one hand.
"William, are
you...?"
"I think I'm going to
be ill..." he whispered. In the dark, he could see Da'an's eyes glowing near him
and knew that she was on her side with her head raised, watching him.
Her cool hand
stroked his brow and then withdraw. "It is over now," she said as she
blinked.
He turned onto his side
facing her and pulled her close. "For now..." he huffed.
Rolling as well, she
moved back against him so that he could wrap his arm about her waist and snuggle
close.
"How can you stand to eavesdrop like this?" he asked. "I mean - this is Zo'or
we're listening in on. It's... it's..."
"Fascinating?"
"No! It's...
revolting!"
She shifted as though
trying to look back over her shoulder. "Why do you find it so?" she asked,
puzzled.
"Da'an!"
"I am
confused. Why do you find such a celebration of love wonderful when it is us and
nauseating when it is Zo'or and Nivian?"
"When it's us, we do
our best to keep it to ourselves. They're just..." He tried again. "They're
flaunting it! And the idea of Zo'or being able to... to... to do that - it's
just plain disturbing!"
She relaxed and
shrugged. "This is new to Zo'or. I imagine it will take him time to dampen
down his sharing of it through the Commonality. Perhaps once he has again bonded
with Nivian things will calm down."
Boone had a sickening
thought. "Braedan!" he hissed, as he raised his head and tried to see the small
bed where their child was sleeping.
"Calm yourself," Da'an
said, sounding weary. "He sleeps. It is doubtful that even that loud a broadcast
has disturbed his slumber."
He sighed and tried to
relax. "The poor little guy's been through a lot."
"Yes."
He waited a few minutes
and then risked annoying her by speaking again. "Does something seem strange to
you right now?"
She stiffened slightly.
"I am not certain of what you are referring to."
"It's the Commonality,"
he suddenly breathed. "I just realized that I don't hear any of the
others..."
She rolled to face him
and he could tell that she had known of the change in the common link well
before he had. In the darkness of the room, he could feel that she was
overwhelmed, apprehensive and trying to choose her words with care.
"The others,"
she began, "are... cowering."
"Cowering?"
"They are in
a state which closely parallels what humans call shock. William, they have just
discovered that their Synod Leader has regressed to a state we have sought for
millennia. There are two of us now - one male, one female. It is proof of what
might be - that we may all once more be fertile without regressing too far
backward."
Boone felt his skin
crawl. "What are you saying, that instead of using humans as guinea pigs, that
now your people are just going to go out and woo us?"
He could feel the
disappointment radiate from her at his poorly chosen words. "No William. We both
know that most of my people are incapable of feeling anything so sentimental
towards humans. We have found a cure for one of our maladies, however we have
found it too late, for the Jaridians will surely destroy us all well before we
learn to love each other."
"Hey..." He pulled her
close and held her tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired - we both are. It's been
a very long, difficult day."
They remained cuddled
for a long while, neither sleeping, but rather enjoying the comfort of being
together.
Finally, he asked the
question which had been bothering him. "Da'an, if we had the time and IF your
people and my own were able to... bond, how would that help in the grand scheme
of things? How would it help in the battle that lies ahead?"
She shrugged slightly.
"That is unclear, however we would at least have hope - we would not be doomed
to extinction even should we survive the battle."
He kissed the top of
her head and continued to hold her close, but it was a long time before he
slept.
Nivian
stretched and rubbed her eyes. The light from the window had fallen across her
face and roused her from the best night's sleep she had had in ages. As she
settled back down, prepared to relax and just let the day filter in, she felt a
hand rub her belly.
Turning her head to one
side and opening her eyes, she saw Zo'or lying on his side, watching her with
sleepy, hooded eyes. He looked like the cat who had stolen the cream.
Before she
could react, he scooted forward and wrapped arms around her, pulling her closer
so that he could lay his head on her shoulder.
"Well, hello there,"
she giggled.
He silenced her with a
quick kiss and then took her right hand in his left one, meshing their fingers
together.
Realizing what he
planned to do, she protested. "No, Zo'or! You're too weak!"
He smiled. "No longer.
I feel stronger than I have in five years."
"But..."
Again he
silenced her with a kiss. "Hush, woman," he breathed. "Or must I prove to you
that I am recovered?"
She would have laughed
at his uncustomary teasing, but he had already initiated the sharing which would
lead to the reestablishment of their bond.
Nivian felt herself
relaxing. In her mind they were approaching each other, getting ready to embrace
all that the other was...
She could hear the
voices of the other Taelons - of the Commonality grow from a barely audible
whisper to almost a roar as they made the final contact and the bond began to
reform.
Then Zo'or pulled his
head back and gasped.
In her mind, she could
see a look of shock and fear upon his face. Then his eyes flared brilliantly
before fading to blue.
Only this time they
were no longer a phosphorescent Taelon Blue - they were human!
Shocked by the
unexpected reaction, she was about to ask what was wrong when suddenly she felt
herself froze.
Voices were rising up
within her - thousands, hundreds of thousands of voices - all of them
human!
She covered her ears and tried to tune them out, but she couldn't. They were all
crying out in fear and confusion;
"What's
happening?"
"Oh Lord, what is
it?"
"Am I crazy?"
"Please, make it
stop!!!!"
"Nivian."
She looked
down and saw Braedan standing beside her. Although she knew he wasn't really
there - that this was a place within her mind, still she knew he was no dream.
He was with them and he alone seemed unfazed.
"What has happened?"
she asked the child as her mind threatened to snap. The experience was becoming
horrifying.
He took her hand, and
then Zo'or's, though the Taelon seemed to be in a trance and unaware of it. "It
is the beginning of a new world," he explained. "The weak link which unknowingly
bound those humans of Kimera descent has been added to the Commonality through
you and Zo'or. The power of the Taelon's own mental network has bled backward
into the new pathways, accomplishing that which I alone could not."
Her head
buzzing so loudly that she could barely think or even hear herself, she
broadcast loudly to him, "A human Commonality has been activated?"
Braedan
dropped her hand, and reaching out, placed his hand on her head before doing the
same to Zo'or.
The voices instantly
dropped down to a whisper.
"That is better," he
commented. "Nivian, there is no longer a Taelon Commonality or a human
Commonality. It is now but one link.
Zo'or blinked and
looked down. "What have you done?" he cried.
"The one thing which I
could do," the boy whispered back. "I joined Nivian to the rest of the human
Commonality. Because of her previous long contact with the Taelon Commonality
and the strength of her mind, she was able to become a part of it despite her
lack of Kimera ancestry. In renewing your bond with her, you have joined both
networks together. You and she are the channels which allow the two sides to
understand each other and interact."
"Interact!" Zo'or
looked furious. "You have destroyed us! Every Taelon is frozen in shock!"
"And the
humans are bordering on insanity," Nivian added.
"Not every human and
Taelon is so affected," Braedan calmly replied. "Even now, Boone and Da'an
struggle to make sense of the situation and their understanding is spreading
through out the new link. One by one, each individual, both human and Taelon, is
calming and adapting."
Even as he finished
speaking, she felt a calmness being restored. In the back of her mind both Da'an
and Boone were whispering, their voices calming and soothing. Throughout the new
Commonality its members were trying to relax.
Zo'or released Nivian
and fell to his knees.
She quickly knelt down
next to him and put an arm about his shoulders.
"Why?" he continued
brokenly. "Why have you done this thing?"
Braedan looked near to
tears, but seemed determined to make him understand. Placing a hand on his
adoptive parent's head, he said, "I did it to save us - all of us. We are now
one. The Taelons will multiply and there will be understanding between the two
species at last. All the human resources and ingenuity will be placed at your
command. In return, you will give over to the humans your technology. When the
Jaridians arrive, they will be met by their match, and not an already vanquished
foe."
Zo'or cried out and threw off Braedan's hand...
And Nivian found
herself back in her body, in her bed and in his arms.
She and Zo'or stared at
each other for a few seconds, and then he was struggling out of the bed. Getting
his feet tangled in the blankets, he fell onto the floor, then picked himself up
and stumbled to the middle of the room where he collapsed to his knees.
An unholy
sound escaped him as he threw his head back and screamed, "NO!!!!"
Zo'or's scream
pulled Boone out of his inner focus, snapping him back to the here and now. He
found himself standing in the middle of his room, still in his pajama bottoms.
Turning, he saw that Da'an was sitting on the edge of the bed and blinking at
him, a sure sign that she too was now externally aware.
As he turned back
towards Braedan's small cot, he saw that his son was also out of bed - and
crying. Instantly he moved forward and gathered him up in his arms.
The child
wrapped his own arms around his neck and held on for dear life as his sobbing
grew louder.
"Shhhh, it's all right
Braedan," he soothed. "You did the right thing."
"But... Zo'or...." the
boy choked out.
"What about
him?"
"He doesn't love me now!"
Boone met Da'an's eyes.
She had risen and was standing near them, but had decided to let him handle
this. He was grateful to her for that. For the first time since their child had
disappeared, he felt as though he had reconnected with him.
"Hey," he admonished.
"Who says he doesn't love you anymore?"
"He's angry, though!"
Braedan cried. "I've never seen him so upset... He thinks that I have destroyed
the Taelons!"
Boone sat down on the
cot and positioned Braedan on his knee where he could look him in the eye. With
the back of his fingers, he wiped the tears off his son's face. "Let me tell you
something about Zo'or," he whispered. "It doesn't take much to upset him. He has
his own very specific plans for his race and is not really good at considering
other options." He brushed Braedan's hair back off his face. "You've never seen
him upset before?" he asked, incredulously.
The boy stopped crying
and sniffed. "Only once or twice and never like this."
"Well, that's because
he wasn't in any position to lead his people at the time. Believe me, in the
past he's been much angrier at me and your mom, but he's gotten over it.
Besides, he loves you. We can all feel that and that is not something which is
going to change just because you've done something that displeases him."
Braedan
looked at him, hopefully. A small hiccup escaped him as he asked,
"Really?"
"Yes - really!" Boone
hugged him tightly then as a smile split his face. Braedan might be an
incredibly advanced alien in some ways, but underneath it all he was still just
a small, insecure little human boy.
When Braedan finally
drew back, Boone was relieved by the small smile which had appeared on his face.
"I'm glad that you're my father," he said, running his small fingers over his
face. "You remind me of Buan. He was really good at making me feel better,
too."
"Who is Buan?" he asked.
"My best friend back in
Strandhill. He was our ancestor. I hope that Lazarus will be his friend now!"
With that statement, the child bounded from his lap and ran across to Da'an, who
received a long hug of her own.
Boone stared at her,
completely nonplused. It was shaping up to be a hell of a morning. God only knew
what kind of panic was reigning out in the streets...
He stood and headed
quickly for the shower, aware that they were about to have a very hectic
day.
Epilogue
Zo'or sat on a bench in the garden and watched as the birds fought
over a scrap of bread he had thrown down for them.
It was mid summer and a
beautiful morning, the sky blue and cloudless. A cool breeze was blowing despite
the fact that it was already showing signs of becoming a hot, muggy day.
So very much
had happened in the months since the joining.
All of his race had
begun to regress, an event brought on by their permanent link to the humans. And
it was permanent now, for he and Nivian were no longer the only connection
between the two nets. There were now many more, including one formed by Kha'rha
and Beckett. Those bridges would, no doubt, continue to increase in number until
the two mind networks were well and truly one. And who knew? Perhaps more
children like Braedan would be born - children instantly connected to both human
and Taelon.
His thoughts turned to
Braedan and he instantly felt the familiar surge of pride which always overcame
him on such occasions.
The child had saved
them. Although it had been a full week before he had come to accept the
solution, he had to admit in the end that it was the only solution.
Who would
have imagined that the Kimera would be that prolific or that those with their
blood would have a pre-disposition for civil service? Fully half of all the
lawmakers, police, military and leaders in the world were joined in the great
link.
In the time since its establishment, almost all government corruption had been
eliminated and distrust of the Taelons had been replaced with understanding and
acceptance. Though neither species was perfect, they needed each other and were
now working towards a common goal - survival!
The sound of small feet
drew his attention and turning his head he saw Braedan running down the path
towards him.
"Zo'or!" the child
greeted him. In the next second, he was thrown back on the bench by the force of
Braedan's flying hug.
He squeezed the boy
back and then moved him onto the bench beside him and offered him the rest of
the bread he was holding. As he watched him feeding the birds, he was thankful
that Braedan had gotten the chance to grow up in this world - in a place where
he could have friends and be a child for a few years longer.
This time the sound of
slow footsteps drew his attention and he looked up to see Nivian moving towards
them. She was wearing a sun dress and a shawl. When their eyes met, a huge smile
split her face and he felt himself standing so that he could embrace her.
She kissed
him passionately, causing Braedan to pause in his feeding of the birds and
giggle.
When they broke apart,
she was still grinning.
"What is it which so
amuses you?" he asked.
She took his hand and
placed it on her lower abdomen, causing him to stare at her in
bewilderment.
Then he felt it! A mind
- a small, developing mind!
"Nivian...." he
breathed.
"Just kiss me, daddy,"
she laughed.
Fin
Appendix:
Name | Alternate Spelling | Pronounced | Meaning |
Naoise | -- | NEE-sha | One Choice |
Gobnait | -- | GOB-nit | Mouth |
Siabh | Sive | Rhymes with "Dive" | Goodness |
Buan | -- | Boone | Long lasting, durable |
My Take on Boone's ancestry:
Originates in Strandhill with a Kimera or Kimeras contributing to
the bloodline. This results in Gobnait, then Siabh, then Buan. Buan takes a
wife, whose name is Mogh and one of their sons, also named Buan later travels to
what will become Scotland, shifting the ancestry from Celtic to Gaelic. Somehow
this Buan becomes the stuff on which legends are based. Eventually his many
descendants end up with the following surnames: Buan, Bain, Behan, Bon and Bone.
Eventually at least one line takes on the more modern surname of Boone.
William's closest ancestors immigrated to Cape Breton, which is where is own
meager research into his family's past ended.