Description: Liam's thoughts at the end of "Arrival"
A Protectors Duty
Journal entry May 28,
2008—Major Liam Kincaid.
Dear Mother,
This
isn’t happening. If I just close my eyes and wish hard enough, I can make this
all go away, I know it. I’ll wake up in my bed and find that all of this has
been one long, terrifying, bad dream. I’ll find that Lili is alive and well and
Human, and that Da’an is safe and
sound back at the embassy. I’ll get up, realize that everything that’s happened
was just a product of eating too much Mexican food before bed, have a strong
cup of coffee, and go to work like I normally do. Just like any other day.
Sigh. Well, I almost believed it for minute. I know life’s not fair, I know innocent people suffer horrible things. But why does it seem like everyone I touch dies? Sure, in my head, I know it’s not my fault. I had nothing to do with what Sandoval did, or what’s happened to Lili, or the choice Da’an’s making. But I can’t help but think there was something I might have done differently, some way that I could have prevented all this. That somehow, this is all my fault.
Maybe it’s not. But it is my responsibility. I am here, and whether I
like it or not, I have to make a choice. If I do nothing, that is a choice as
well. No matter which way I go, someone, maybe millions of someones will die,
or never be born. I hold the future of worlds, species, the course of galactic
history in the palm of my hand.
I can’t believe that some people
actually crave this kind of power, the power to decide who lives and who dies.
The power to control fate, even. There have been times before in my life where
I have had to say that this person must die, for the “greater good” (oh, how I
have come to hate that phrase!). Each time, it broke my heart. I have a hard
enough time living with myself when I
have to make such choices. So why would anyone actually want that kind of responsibility? What
attraction could it possibly hold?
This may be the hardest choice
I’ll ever make in my life. I’m not a child anymore, not really, but no one is
ever ready, ever prepared to deal with this kind of decision. Why, once again,
has this task of choosing fallen on me?
Oh Mother, do you know how much
I wish you were here, beside me, helping me to know what to do? Can you see me
right now, and know the choice I face? If only you could tell me how I should
act, or even if I should act at all. And even if you couldn’t do that, you
could still help me live with myself afterwards.
I
look across the hold of this massive ship we’re on and see Lili and Da’an,
lying side-by-side. They’re both dying. But one will survive, and one will
perish. They have made their choices, but I still have to make mine. I can stop
the procedure. Da’an will live, but Lili will die. If I do nothing, Lili will
live, and Da’an will die. A horrible choice to make, and as if that is not hard
enough by itself, there are countless other facts that weigh on my ultimate
decision.
I
was so happy when I found out that Lili was alive, you’ll never know how much.
I couldn’t believe it, but Augur wouldn’t give up and finally, he proved it.
Lili was…is, the best friend I’ve ever had. She took care of me when I was
young. She’s been a friend, a colleague, a sister, and a mother, all rolled
into one. When I had to let someone under my command be sacrificed for the
first time, she was there to get me through it. When you died, Mother, she lent
me her shoulder to cry on. When people were out to kill me, she stood between
me and harm, just as she promised you.
The
year I spent without her was the worst of my life. Every day, I felt the hole
left by her passing. Every night I longed for her wisdom and guidance. And now,
she’s alive again. But it’s different now. Her life does not come for free.
There is a price attached, the highest there is. Da’an’s life.
Da’an
has been my mentor from the beginning, the only father-figure I have. There
have been times, many, many times, when we were at odds with each other. There
were even times when I hated him for the things he’d done. But I know, in my
heart, that he was trying to what was best for the long run. I still don’t know
whether the things he did were right, or even excusable, but I know he only
wanted to be able to save as many people, Human and Taelon, as possible, even
if he had to sacrifice lives.
Not
only is Da’an a friend and mentor, but I’ve sworn an oath to him, a solemn vow
to protect him from all harm. You and Lili taught me what such oaths mean. How
can I violate that sacred promise and stand by and watch as he dies? But what
is a Protector’s duty when his Companion is willing laying down his life? Is my
first duty to save his life, or abide by his wishes?
And
then there is the child Lili carries. He or she…a Jaridian hybrid, the last
hope for a dying race. I know this is the truth from the Taelons own desperate
situation. And if humanity really is the missing link between the two, then
this baby may hold the key for all three races. If I choose Da’an, not only do
two die, instead of one, but I may condemn my own people and certainly sentence
the Jaridians to death.
The
choice seems clear, when put that way. On one hand, the life, freely given, of
one being. On the other, the lives of my dear friend, her child, and the future
of three species. The life of one, or the life of billions. Sometimes decisions
have to come down to the cold, hard, numbers, as much I hate it. But there is
still more to this dilemma than even now meets the eye.
If
Da’an dies, the balance of power in the Synod will change. Without his balancing
influence, Zo’or and T’than and those like them will carry out their plans
unchecked. I fear that despite the best of efforts of Humanity and the
Resistance, my people will be trampled, enslaved, and eventually annihilated.
Without us, even though the baby would live to save the Jaridians, both they
and the Taelons will eventually die out.
Is
it right to base such a decision on abstracts, Mother? If I do this, this might
happen. If I do that, that might happen. Mights. Should I let my life be ruled
by mights and maybes? But then, when billions of innocent lives are involved,
the smallest of possibilities must be weighed carefully.
It
seems that neither choice is right, that both are wrong. Either way I choose, I
may be condemning whole worlds to destruction. The only thing to do, it seems,
is to find the path that is least wrong, the way in which there is the least
chance of the fewest people as possible dying. What is the correct way to value
these abstracts? It is impossible.
Mother,
I cannot choose. There is too much to factor in, and I don’t even know what I
should consider, and what I can’t afford to. There is simply no way for me to
decide. I can’t do this. I’m not that brave or strong or wise. Who decided that
the fate of three races should rest in the scarred palms of a two-year-old
mongrel boy? I can’t do this. I simply can’t. But I must. It may kill me, and
everyone I love, but I must.