Copyright
©1999, Tracey Harnack. All rights
reserved. No part of this story may be re-posted in part or in full
without written permission from me. It's characters are used without
permission, no infringement is intended.
Disclaimer: Gene Roddenberry's Earth:
Final Conflict is copyright 1998, Tribune Entertainment Co.
Rating: PG.
Title: The Path Least Traveled: True Love Abides No Boundaries Part 4
Author: Tracy Harnack
I pelted as fast as I could through the embassy halls, crashing into Volunteers as I went, and blindsiding Agent Sandoval. I barely noticed. I ran straight into Da’an’s office without knocking. He was meeting with Major Kincaid.
They both stared at my disheveled appearance, but I couldn’t have cared less.
“Agent Rossi.” Major Kincaid acknowledged.
I nodded to him. “Da’an, I’m sorry, but I need to speak with you. Right now.”
Da’an met my eyes with understanding. “Liam, excuse us please.”
As soon as he was gone, I blurted out what had happened. Halfway through the story, I realized he was neither surprised nor worried. “Da’an, where is she?” I demanded. I’d never taken that tone with him before, and I doubt I’d have dared if I hadn’t been so upset.
Da’an sighed, not angry as I had feared, but…tired. “Lei’ail has been recalled to the Taelon homeworld. She is needed there. Out situation with reproduction has become quite desperate.”
“What?! No!” I was shocked. “She can’t…you can’t…”
Da’an looked curiously at me. Finally he said. “I am…sorry, David. It was necessary. I hope you can understand.”
“No, I can’t understand!” I shouted helplessly. “Do you know what they did to her? They had no right…they hurt her. They are hurting her.”
“Without her, Taelon civilization may die.”
“I don’t care about that!” I yelled, surprising even myself. I stopped there, deflated. “I care about her,” I whispered. “I love her…she said she didn’t know what that meant, but…” I trailed off, lost and confused. “She didn’t mean that, did she?”
Da’an blinked at me, trying to understand. At last he said, “We do not experience love as you do. We do not ‘fall in love’, as you would say. But we can know great…affection for a friend or a parent. And we may perhaps feel the same as you do for our own offspring, love them as you do your children.
“We simply do not encounter situations in which we would ‘fall in love’ with another. It does not work that way. However, Lei’ail is…different, as you well know. And she has been put in a situation that few Taelons have ever had to deal with. From what she has told me, and my own…experience with Captain Marquette, for lack of a better word, I do believe that she would, in a short period of time, recognize that the feelings she was experiencing for you were those of love.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” I stepped forward bravely. “Help me get her back.”
“I cannot. That would be a betrayal of my race,” Da’an said sadly.
I bit my lip and thought. Finally, I decided to push my luck. It was a dangerous move and a sensitive subject, but what could happen to me, after all? “If there was away to bring Capt… Lili back, would you do it? No matter the cost?” I asked, praying it would work.
Da’an was taken aback, and I saw something akin to grief flash though his eyes. He said nothing for a long moment. Each minute felt like a century. Finally he met my eyes as if searching me. I didn’t blink, but pleaded silently with him.
At last he spoke. “In one half hour the mainframe computer on the mothership will experience a data spill, followed by a large-scale melt-down. Much sensitive information will be left open to anyone who cares to retrieve it, including the coordinates of our homeworld, something no human alive has the knowledge of. A disastrous situation, to be sure. You, being my longest and most trusted advisor, will be ordered to take care of it.”
At first I was completely confused by the sudden and seemingly inexplicable change of subject. Then my eyes widened. “Are you saying…?”
Da’an shook his head. “I am not saying anything, David.”
I nodded, overwhelmed. “Thank you, Da’an,” I said around a lump in my throat. I began to go, but I stopped at the last moment and turned around. “It has been an honor knowing you Da’an.”
“And you, Companion Agent David Rossi,” he replied, rising to give me the Taelon salute. “Go safely, my friend.”
I returned the salute, swelling with pride. With a last look at the finest (well, second finest) creature I have ever known, I ran out of Da’an’s office to go pack what little I had. In my rooms, I collected only my books, my journal, and an extra set of clothing. My hand paused on an antique copy of Shakespeare’s The Tempest that I had picked up at an unusual book-and-coffee shop not far from the embassy, soon after being posted to Da’an.
Stroking it lovingly, I placed it in the middle of the coffee table and, hefting my duffel, I turned and walked out without a backward glance.
Surprisingly, I felt no fear or nervousness. Instead, I felt only a clarity of purpose and a stubborn determination to do what I had set out to. As I walked purposefully out to the shuttlepad, Desa caught up with me. She had to run to keep up, but I refused to slow my pace.
“Hey,” she said. “Are you going to do what I think you’re going to do?”
I looked sideways at her, slightly annoyed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said coolly.
“Boy, you have grown up since you’ve been here,” she commented. “Look, I just wanted to say good luck. I don’t want anything to happen to her either. She was…is a friend.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, ten meters from Galadriel. “What do you know?” I demanded.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied coyly.
I felt my anger rising. If Desa knew what I was going to do, and she talked to the wrong person…I might never see Lei’ail again. I grabbed her shoulders blindly, to shake her. Halfway there, I stopped. David, what the hell are you doing? I asked myself. What’s gotten into you? You’re a man of peace, not violence.
You’re in love, I answered my own question.
“I won’t say anything,” Desa said assured me sincerely, unaware of the conversation going on inside my mind.
I
nodded at her and smiled tightly, my irrational anger dissipating. I knew Desa.
I could trust her. I was just…scared. David,
old boy, not so confident as all
that, are we?
“Thanks,” I said to Desa, telling my inner voice to please shut up, thank you very much.
She grinned at me, grabbed me by the collar, and proceeded to kiss me down to my socks. My legs turned to rubber. Before I could decide whether to kiss back or pull away, she gave me one last smooch and then pushed me, stumbling, towards Galadriel as hard as she could. There was surprising strength in that tiny little frame.
“Godspeed, David,” I heard her whisper sadly. I climbed in my shuttle numbly and flew away. My last sight was of the lovely, vivacious girl standing wistfully on the shuttle pad, the wind from Galadriel’s take off whipping her fiery hair away from her face. She looked like she was crying.
It was like a scene from a movie, but I determined to never forget her. She’d probably been my only human friend at the embassy, and I felt bad for not appreciating her more while I’d had the chance. She’d certainly saved my butt with Lei’ail more than once, if nothing else.
The trip to the mothership went too slowly, but somehow I made it, without knawing my hands off at the wrists. I forced myself to walk to the computer room, and nonchalantly show the Volunteers on duty my special orders from Da’an. Once they left, I went immediately to the nearest interface.
It was as Da’an had said. Classified information was out in the open for the taking. In my excitement, it was hard for me to go slowly enough to keep from making a mistake. The coordinates of the homeworld were there, along with coldly technical information about Lei’ail and where she was being held.
I downloaded everything that seemed useful into my global, including complete star charts. Apparently, the Taelons had explored, and conquered, many galaxies. Before I left, I carefully put back the security checks on any vital or dangerous information. I didn’t want the Resistance getting hold of anything that could hurt the Taelons, after all. Then I gleefully made hash out of the rest of the data. Never hurts to have a distraction, I reminded myself.
On my way back to the shuttlebay, I swung by Supply. I gathered up nearly a year’s stock of food, powdered water, and some extra weapons. I did not have a clue what was going to happen, but I wanted to be prepared. I also took blankets, energy crystals, and other miscellaneous items I thought might be useful. I think even then, I knew subconsciously that I could never return to Earth. Not with Lei’ail, anyway, and I wasn’t going anywhere without her.
I launched Galadriel and keyed in a roundabout route to the Taelon homeworld. Just before I went into ID, flight control hailed me. I almost panicked. If I jumped to ID, they would follow me and I’d never get away. But if I couldn’t come up with a good story, same result.
Nervously, I answered the hail. A familiar face popped up on my global.
“Dave! Man, it’s been like forever since training, huh?”
My eyes widened. “Steve! What are you still doing in the Volunteers?”
“Couldn’t bear to give up the life, buddy. I’m guessing same for you?” The compact blond was the same as ever. We hadn’t communicated since I’d been posted to DC, and I’d missed my friend, though I’d been too busy to think about it. He never had learned to call me David, but I hardly minded now. It was a miracle that it was him, here, now.
“Yeah, something like that,” I agreed, grinning.
“Listen, man, you’re not scheduled to go the way you’re headed. I gotta ask you why. Standard red tape gobbledy gook, you know.”
I took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you that, buddy.”
“What, you on some sorta secret mission, pal?” he asked, confused.
I nodded. “Da’an’s orders. Need to know, and all that.”
He frowned, not a natural expression for his face. “Yeah, but wouldn’t he have cleared your flight with us first?”
Damn. I ran my fingers through my brown hair. This wasn’t going well. Da’an wanted, need plausible deniability. “Look, Steve, you’re just gonna have to trust me,” I said.
“I do, Dave, but my job…I can’t do things like this.” He looked torn. “Sorry. But if you head back now, this never happened. That much I can do for ya.”
I groaned. “I have to do this. Please, just look the other way. For the team, Steve, remember?”
He shook his head.
“Come on, this is important,” I continued. My mind raced. “You know what you told me about girls? One in a hundred thousand is the most precious thing in the universe? Well, I’ve found her, my friend.”
I knew I’d reached him with that, but he still needed convincing.
“I know this is a risk, Steve, but what’s life without risks?”
I saw the familiar daredevil spark in his blue eyes. The one that had to take the challenge, fight the losing fight, and back the underdog. He grinned rakishly at me as he punched in the clearance codes for me.
“I hope she’s worth it, Dave,” he laughed.
I thought for a second. “Take Pei Li…”
“Yeah?”
“Multiply her by ten…”
“Uh huh?”
“Not even close.”
He whistled. “You lucky dog.”
I smiled at him. “Yes, yes I am,” I said, and, closing the connection, I made the jump to ID space.
It took nearly two months to reach the homeworld. By the time I got there, I was ready to jump out of my skin.
Their world took me by surprise. It was…a rock. A rock with a few bubbles of habitation on it. I knew the facts, of course, but seeing any world like that, especially a world that I had seen so full of life in Lei’ail’s memory, was just overwhelming.
I knew that most Taelons lived on colony worlds, still blooming with life. Only a few scientists engaged in vital research inhabited the barren landscape of the place all Taelons had once called home.
The dome that housed the building where Lei’ail was being kept wasn’t hard to spot. It was separate from the others, self-sustaining from what I understood, and placed at the equator of the world. I could sense that Lei’ail was alive down there, but nothing more than that.
I had no idea what I was going to do from here. I scanned the planet for weapons and defenses. That seemed like a fairly good idea. Scanning never hurt. To my surprise there was…nothing. Not a blessed thing to protect the planet.
I was expecting a defense grid, a battleship…something. Then I realized the Taelon propensity for over-confidence was on my side. Of course, considering that only Taelons, and probably not all of them at that, knew the exact location of their homeworld, it probably was pretty safe. Still, they were at war. It was just plain dumb not to station some sort of protection in orbit around the world.
Of course, sometimes stupidity and arrogance can be a good thing, depending on what side of the equation you’re on. I carefully parked Galadriel in orbit above the building where Lei’ail was being held, half-expecting to be blown out of the sky. I wasn’t. It was eerie. The place was so…deserted. I knew there were a couple hundred Taelons and probably some slaves down there, but it felt completely and utterly dead.
Now, the only way for me, David Rossi, to get into the life-bubble would be to materialize inside it. Unless I wanted to politely radio down and ask if they would mind too terribly letting me in so that I could kidnap their precious jewel, I had to simply appear where I needed to be. Or I could try the next best thing: ID space. I definitely did not like that idea.
But it didn’t matter what I liked, did it? Sighing, I did the math, checked the coordinate, checked the math, and prayed to God that I wouldn’t wake up inside solid rock. Finally, there was only one thing left to do, and that was making the jump.
Steady now, old boy, I told myself. You can do this. With more fear than I have ever experienced, I carefully maneuvered the shuttle into ID space. It had to be almost instantaneous. In and out, just like that. That was the easy part, assuming I’d done the calculations right. The hard part would be getting the old girl stopped before she crashed into something and tore herself (and, coincidentally, me) to bits.
I barely had time orient myself in that strange, fickle world between worlds, than I was back in what was laughingly called Realspace, fighting to stay alive. I pulled back as hard as I could, as she careened towards a wall. If she’d been made of metal, her structure would have buckled instantly. The beauty of organic-energy technology.
Galadriel skidded to a halt not twenty centimeters from annihilation. The G forces from such a landing made me nauseous, which didn’t happen very often. After I finished congratulating myself for still being alive, I realized it was quiet. No one had noticed my arrival.
This creeped me out a bit. A jailbreak was supposed to be hard, dangerous. This was…almost easy. The paranoid part of my mind started thinking ‘trap’, but I knew that was impossible. The only way it could be a trap was if someone knew I was coming, and the only way someone could know I was coming was if Da’an had told them. Since that was pretty far out, considering it had been incredibly dangerous to get me here, I figured it was no trap.
I grabbed a weapon, and my global. The global didn’t work as a communication device anymore, being so far from the satellite net of earth, but it did fine as a tiny, hand-held supercomputer. I figured that if I ran into anyone, the best thing to do would be to pretend like I had every right to be there. Easier said than done.
Fortunately, during my two months alone in space, I’d had plenty of time to memorize the lay out of the building, so I wouldn’t have to go bumbling around like an idiot with my map in hand. No, instead I could walk boldly around a very dangerous place like an idiot. Much better, don’t you think?
As I walked through the (mostly) deserted corridors, I noticed that the structure was made not of the usual bio-slurry normally used in Taelon construction, but of a plastic-like frame with opaque virtual glass, much like the Volunteer recruiting buildings. My guess is that the dead world wouldn’t support a life form of any kind, up to and including even the borderline material used for building.
I passed a few unfamiliar sentients as I made my way to where Lei’ail was being kept. I think I did a fairly respectable job of ignoring them, even though every part of me cried out to know more about them. They ignored me back, assuming I was another Taelons slave or servant like themselves. Falcon, (I’d named my skrill on the journey, as she seemed to be developing more of her own personality) tensed perceptibly at one or two of them, but no one noticed.
I was almost to my goal, when I was stopped in my tracks by an irate voice hissing at me in Eunoia. Now, I had learned the Taelon langauge quite some time ago, because of my fascination with every aspect of their culture, and I could understand it quite well, but as for speaking it…well, human tongues are not meant to shape certain sounds.
“You!” the strange Taelon said.
I turned around.
“What are you doing here?”
My heart began to palpitate. I tried to formulate a good answer in a strange language I couldn’t speak. I guess I came off as extremely confused, because he snapped impatiently, “What is your species?”
“Human,” I replied in shaky Eunoia.
After a moment’s reflection, the Taelon switched to Standard English. “Now,” he said, “What are you doing here.”
“I—”
“Never mind,” he interrupted. “This is more important.” He shoved a little orb that I knew was a Taelon medicine delivery device into my hands. “Take this to the lady, at once,” he ordered.
My eyes widened. What luck! He thought I was just another lackey assigned to the reproduction facility.
“Are you impaired?” he asked. “I gave you an order!”
I saluted carefully. “Apologies, sir. I’ll do it at once.”
“My name is Kee’aav,” he corrected, none too gently. “Address me as such.”
I nodded.
“Now, hurry. It is important.”
With another salute I turned and hurried carefully down the nearest hallway, cradling the little device. I soon came to a plain, seamless blue door. I knew what was behind it. Setting the ball of medicine gingerly on the floor, I used that little miracle worker, the top notch, Companion Protector standard issue global to hack through the security system. A Taelon scientist might think I worked here, but the computer wasn’t buying it without proof.
The door slid open noiselessly. So far this had been ridiculously easy. I took a deep breath and stepped into the room. A familiar figure was lying on its side on a low, hard bench.
“What do you want?” it hissed in Eunoia.
I grinned. “Nothing, especially,” I said in English.
Lei’ail stood up and turned around as fast as decorum allowed. “David,” she said, her voice registering surprise. But she seemed uninterested, apathetic. Part of her looked like she wanted to run to me, but she seemed too tired, and her brilliant purple eyes were dull. She looked like a dying butterfly.
I crossed the room as fast as I could and in an instant had her in my arms. She didn’t resist. Actually, she sort of melted into my arms. I supported her weight and sat her down on the bench. “Shh, it’s okay,” I soothed. “God, what have they done to you?”
She looked weakly at me, with a sad half-smile. “Drugs…gene splicing. Artificially induced reproductive cycle. It…has taken its toll on me. I will recover.”
I was shocked. “No, you won’t. Listen, your body may, but your soul…they’re trying to break you, and doing a damn good job of it, from what I can see.”
Lei’ail was taken aback. “Perhaps,” she conceded at last. “But it is necessary.”
“Necessary!” I exclaimed angrily. “It’s always necessary, but doesn’t one ever think, it is right?” I looked intensely at her.
“Perhaps not,” she said quietly. “But I have a duty to my people.”
I jumped to my feet and began pacing. “You’re supposed to sit back and let them do whatever they want to you, because you’re a “true child of the Commonality” or some other such nonsense, right? Never mind if it’s fair, or right, or good. You, know for a supposedly advanced race, you people can be awfully heartless.” I was mildly shocked to hear such things coming from my mouth; the same mouth that had been singing Taelon praises ever since they had arrived. But only mildly shocked.
Lei’ail looked away and said nothing.
I sat down next to her and took her hand in mine, gently turning her chin so that she had to look at me. “I’m getting you away from here,” I said firmly. “They’ll kill you.”
“No!” she said, shocked. “They would never.”
I looked her over. “Your body…no, you’re right. They need you too badly. But your soul, your personality, everything that makes you, you… They’re well on their way to that. Look at yourself! Little by little, they’re killing you on the inside. Eventually, all that’ll be left is a shell.”
“If that is what is necessary…” she said, sounding unsure of herself and a little frightened.
“No, I won’t permit it,” I said. “I’m getting you out of here, right now!”
Her eyes widened in panic. “You cannot!”
“Why?” I asked, confused. “You’re not saying you want to stay here!”
“As far as I am needed to help my species’ survival, yes,” she said primly, having recovered her composure.
“Don’t give me that!” I yelled. “We’ve shared. I know how frightened you are, how you’d have given anything not to have to come back here. They put you through hell; I saw it all remember. So why are you making excuses for them?”
She met my gaze defiantly, and I saw a bit of the old Lei’ail shining through. I could have jumped for joy. “I do not have to explain myself to you.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. Having her acting more like her old self was good…but it wasn’t convenient. “Cut it out.”
To my surprise she listened, probably because she knew I wasn’t going to give up until I had a good explanation. She let out a very human-sounding sigh. “I am carrying a child,” she told me in a whisper.
“You what?!”
She looked mildly at me. “Do you require me to repeat myself?”
“No…I…no, I guess not.” I wasn’t exactly sure what do from here. “I…uh…Wow.”
Lei’ail gazed intently at me. “Now you understand why I cannot leave here. My people have not had a child in nearly one thousand years, we are dying out. Inside me, is the hope of a future for my people? I can’t leave.”
Well, there wasn’t much to say to that. But I had to try. “What about my people?” I said quietly.
She frowned. “I do not understand.”
“Look we both know that the only reason my people haven’t been conquered like those poor slaves I saw in the halls is that your people believe they have to join with mine in order to save both our races. But if they have you to make more little Taelons, they will think they don’t need us. At best we’d be conquered, at worst, destroyed. But they’d soon find out that they were wrong. They need us and all the new things we bring, not just to find a way to make more of themselves. If you were doing fine as a race, you wouldn’t be having a problem with that.”
She considered. “Maybe,” she said. “But if I leave and take this baby with me, and our two peoples do not join together, I will have condemned my own race to death.”
“They’re not your race, you said it yourself.”
“They are my people, above all, no matter my DNA. You must understand that.”
“I do, I do,” I sighed. “But listen to me, for one moment more. If the Taelons get a hold of this child, and they manage to somehow propagate the species from this, what will they have gained? They destroyed the Kimera, and enslaved other races. They violated you to get here, and they will soon destroy their only chance to better themselves, humanity.
“You cannot let them have you, or this child, Lei’ail. They have to redeem themselves, not use you like some kind of test tube in order to keep living. Survival is not about merely continuing to live. You have to keep learning, keep improving yourself, or life means nothing. Your people stopped getting better and began backsliding. That’s why they can’t have children anymore. This baby you’re carrying is the easy way out, one that is only a temporary measure. By saving the life of your race, you may be killing their only chance of true survival.”
Lei’ail looked confused. She rubbed her temples in a very human gesture. “You speak passionately, David,” she said in her lovely voice. “I believe you to be right. I had not considered things from that angle. If my people are to survive, they must choose the right path. It is time for them to take responsibility for their actions, and their future.”
“ ‘To everything there is a season,’ ” I quoted quietly. “ ‘A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to reap; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace, and a time to push away; a time to gain, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to give; a time to tear, and a time to mend; a time to be silent, and a time to speak out; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.’ ”
She nodded. “That is very wise.”
“My mother’s favorite verse,” I said fondly.
“Verse?”
“Oh, yeah. From the Bible.”
“Bible?”
“Ah…I’ll explain later.”
She accepted that. “Perhaps it is our time to die,” she said thoughtfully.
“Or maybe it is your time to be reborn,” I suggested.
“Maybe.” She considered. “I will go with you. Because it is the right thing to do. And because I am…afraid to stay here any longer”
I squeezed her hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” I promised. “Now we gotta get out of here. The longer we delay…”
“I know.” She got up, but needed me to support her in order to walk. Halfway to the door, she stopped me. “David?”
“Yes?”
“I believe it would be unwise to inquire how you got here, but I must ask this: why did you come?”
“Why did I come?” I was bewildered.
“Yes, why?” She stared unblinkingly at me.
“Because…” Just then I noticed that she was wearing my chain with the ring around her neck. My heart soared and I knew the answer. “Because true love abides no boundaries! Now, we have to go.”
She nodded and we made our way out of the little clean room and into the hall. There was no bluffing our way past now. If anyone spotted us…
I didn’t have time to complete the thought, as a pale looking member of a species that Lei’ail later identified as a Foresite came around a corner all of a sudden. He/she/it/whatever began whistling furiously at us.
“Damn,” I muttered, pulling out my energy weapon and downing the poor creature. “I hope I didn’t kill it.”
“Doubtful,” she assured me, out of breath. “Their species is extremely resilient for one so fragile looking.”
That made me feel a little better. I just prayed we wouldn’t run into a Taelon. I didn’t think I could shoot one, and I knew Lei’ail would never forgive if I somehow found the stomach for it. We crept carefully through the hallways, once having to duck to avoid Dr. (or so I assumed) Kee’aav. Just as we made it to the storage area where Galadriel was parked, I heard enraged exclamations from behind us. An energy blast hit the ceiling above us. An unfamiliar Taelon shouted in Eunoia, “No, you might hit her!”
“Run!” I yelled, pushing Lei’ail forward with all my might. I was right behind her. We ducked inside the shuttle, and I strapped her in hurriedly. I programmed in a flight plan helter-skelter, and tried to go interdimensional from with the building. It didn’t work.
“What’s wrong with this thing?” I asked desperately, trying again.
“The shield…” Lei’ail said breathlessly.
“What shield?” I demanded.
“This planet…is not without defenses. A shield…around the bubble…activated at will…temporarily restricts…all ID travel…within the sphere.”
I looked at her, concerned. “You’re not well.”
She shook her head. “The medicine globe…do you have it?”
I nodded, reaching into a pocket and tossing it to her.
She barely caught it. “The child…is a strain on my system…this will…relieve some of the burden…allow me to recuperate.”
I didn’t have time to find out more. “We’re breaking out of here!”
“What…?”
“Hold on!” I gunned it. I hadn’t known it was possible to gun a Taelon shuttle, but it was. We went up, and crashed through the virtual glass ceiling. Thankfully, the modifications I’d made before leaving Earth held, and we did not fry as expected. We left a shuttle-shaped hole behind us, which would eventually close by itself. Until then, I hoped that anyone in the room had had the good sense to get out of said room before all the air got sucked out.
For a moment it looked like it was going to be clear sailing. No such luck. Four standard Taelon shuttles and one shuttle of Galadriel’s size came after us. At first, they tried to herd us into a tractor beam. My piloting skills were tested to their limit, but all in all we had no trouble evading their efforts. Just as I was celebrating our (apparently immanent) escape, my good shuttle was rocked by an energy blast.
I swore. “What do they think they’re doing? Don’t they want to protect you at any cost?”
“First, they tried to capture us. That course of action has failed, and they are now attempting to disable us by knocking out our primary systems.
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“They will destroy us.” She sounded scared, something I hadn’t though possible.
“But don’t they need you?”
“Yes. But if it is a choice of losing me permanently or surrendering me to an enemy…” she trailed off.
“I get the idea,” I said, dodging a shot. “Dear Lord, their treating you like a piece of meat.”
She did not deign to respond, but I sensed she had recovered herself.
“Well, there’s only one thing to do from here,” I announced, spinning us to throw them off. “We run like hell.”
I pushed Galadriel as fast as she would go. “C’mon baby…come on. You can do it. I’ve got you in better shape than anyone ever thought possible.”
Falcon and Lei’ail both advised me simultaneously to stop talking to the ship and concentrate on getting us out of here.
We got hit repeatedly, and I realized that they had moved from disable to kill. Fear shot through me and I tried to get another modicum of speed out of the shuttle. I thought Galadriel was going to tear herself apart.
“David,” Lei’ail said, getting out of the backseat and coming forward.
“Yes—What are you doing? Get back in the safety straps!”
She ignored me. After all, if we got blown to bits, what was the use of having taken proper safety measures?
“David, when you told me you loved me…”
“Lei’ail don’t worry about that right now.”
“Now may be the only time we have. I know I said I didn’t know what that meant…I was…I mean that…I was scared and…”
I kissed her lightly. “There. Will. Be. Plenty. Of. Time. To. Talk. Later.”
She nodded and returned to her seat.
I was nearly thrown through the front of the ship when we were hit again. “ID drive’s been hit. We can’t stay here much long. We’ll be killed. I gotta risk a jump out of here. It probably won’t work and we’ll die anyway, but it’s the only hope.”
She looked terrified but only said, “Do it.”
I took a deep breath. “Here’s goes nothing…” I jumped us into interdimensional.
Seconds before the worst pain of my life hit, I heard Lei’ail shout, “I love you!” Her words echoed through my mind as it was turned inside out, upside down, and stretched and bounced around the universe like a rubber ball. Then the rubber ball that was my consciousness was dipped in dry ice and thrown with great force against a very hard wall.
I was everywhere at once and nowhere at all. It was the oddest feeling. I couldn’t even begin to cope with it. I thought I would go mad. Just then it stopped. Everything stopped. We’d jumped out of interdimensional, and I was paralyzed in my seat. I couldn’t move, think, or anything. Anything at all. I might as well have been a gob of play-dough for all the good I was to anyone.
I have no idea how long that mindless, motionless state went on for, but finally I realized I could move. Sort of. My chest felt like Zo’or had parked the mothership on it. Beware, my child, the dangers of flying with a busted ID drive!
I scrambled to my feet, made sure all vital systems were still working, let out a moan to the universe in general, and went to tend to Lei’ail. She was slumped unconscious in her seat, the straps keeping her from falling forward.
I had no idea what to do. Checking for a pulse seemed rather pointless…I couldn’t tell if she was breathing, either. Finally, when I was getting panicked, she drew in a deep breath and pulled herself upright.
I breathed a sigh of relief and took her face in my hands. “Are you alright?” I asked, concerned.
“I am…alive,” she said carefully. “I believe the child is uninjured as well.” She looked up at me, pale as the moon, her eyes wide purple saucers. “You are…your face is wet…” Carefully she put her hand to my tear-stained cheek.
I smiled. “It’s okay…when humans are extremely sad or happy, we cry. Salt-water. It’s a natural thing. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Tentatively, shyly, she leaned forward and kissed me. It was only a light brushing of lips, but I thought I’d never been happier. She smiled at me, a real, honest-to-goodness smile, and clambered out of her seat. I tried to tell her she needed to rest for awhile, but as usual, she did not listen.
Shrugging, I accompanied her to the front of the ship. “Where are we?” I asked, more to myself than her.
“Very far away…from anything,” she replied. “We have jumped further than would ordinarily be possible.”
“It’s so beautiful,” I commented.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed. After a pause, “What do we do now?”
I ran my hand through my hair. “I’m not sure. We can’t go to Earth, we can’t go to any Taelon world, or Taelon allied world, and we certainly can’t go to an enemy of the Taelons.”
“That does not leave much,” she said wryly.
“I guess we have to find a nice, quiet, uninhabited world to settle down on, huh?” I asked.
“Yes.” She sat down. I noticed that she seemed fully recovered, and not only that, but she was fairly glowing. “There is a problem,” she said.
“Great,” I said sarcastically.
She ignored me. “I am still linked to the Commonality. Wherever we go, they will eventually find me.”
I banged my head against the wall. “And if a Taelon disconnects from the Commonality…”
“They turn into the Atavus.”
Before I could completely and totally give into despair, she added, “But as you pointed out, I am not Taelon.”
I could have sworn there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m listening…”
“If I disconnected from the Commonality, I would remain much the same as I am now. Kimera genes are strong and not easily suppressed. They did not need the Commonality to attain a state of relative perfection.”
I grinned. “Great! Let’s go for it. Oh, wait a second. The child…”
“Is not yet a member of the Commonality. It would remain unchanged.”
“Are you willing?”
“Would I have mentioned it if I was not?”
“Well alright then.” I had no clue what would come next. She closed her eyes and was clearly concentrating. She shuddered suddenly, as though in pain. I wanted to reach out to her, but I sensed I would be in danger if I touched her. She writhed as though she was trying to expel something from the very fabric of her being.
There was a very bright light, and I had to shield my eyes. And then she was sitting there, panting, but alive and still looking much like herself. But she was different, too.
Her skin was not so transparent. She was still quite ephemeral, but there was a flesh and blood quality to her that had not been there before. It was nearly impossible to define the change that had come over her. It was Lei’ail, in every way that mattered, but she was not the same being I had met in Da’an’s office that fateful day. She was no longer…Taelon. Well, she was, but she wasn’t.
Oh, it’s no use. It can’t be captured by mere words. But then, mere words could never really capture anything about her.
We rested for a long time, just being together and recovering from the harrowing experience. We took turns drowsing. After awhile, Lei’ail began to chuckle softly. It was a strange sound, but it seemed surprisingly natural to her.
“What is it?” I asked, my eyes still closed.
“I was merely considering the effect my severing myself from the Commonality must be having on the Taelons people as a whole. Particularly one or two certain members of the Synod.”
I grinned at that. “Zo’or’s head must be ready to explode!”
“I would be most gratified to be able to observe his reaction.”
At that we both began laughing. There was something so easy and comfortable and familiar about being together, especially now that I didn’t feel like the Synod or the Commonality was always looking over our shoulders. I sensed she felt the same way. It was so…so…right.
We when could laugh no more, we Shared. At first, I was surprised she could Share at all, now that she was no longer an energy being, but I soon found out that she still had the Shaqarava, which is not just a weapon, but is the heart of the Sharing capability.
This time it required no thought on either of our parts, and I did not have to worry about losing myself. She had so many wounds inside, fresh ones and old ones broken open. I did my best to help heal those. She later described my presence in her mind as a healing balm.
There was another presence this time. That of the child, a barely formed consciousness that had a peace no adult could ever hope to obtain. I envied the little child, so safe inside its mother.
The first thing I said when we ended the Sharing was, “The child is male, isn’t it?”
She cocked her head at me. “Why…yes, it is. I had not really considered the question before.”
Pulling her into my arms I asked carefully, “Who is the father?”
She looked confused. “Father?”
“Yes,” I replied. “The father…the other parent.”
“There is none,” she said matter-of-factly. At my bewildered look, she elaborated. “Taelons do not reproduce that way. There is one parent, who creates one child. They give of themselves, and draw energy from the Commonality to help form a new life. There is only one parent, but in a way, we are all parents of each child.”
“Ah.” Maybe there was their problem. Not enough gene diversity. Unbidden, a saying I heard once rose to mind. When you reduce a family tree to a family bush, you just can’t hide as much behind it. I suppressed the thought, and the inclination to giggle. “What about the Kimera?” I asked curiously.
“The Kimera reproduced much the same way humans do.”
“And that means what, exactly for you?” I asked, slightly uncomfortable.
She shrugged. “Either way.”
“Ah.” After awhile I said, “Well, I guess we should get down to the business of finding a home, huh?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Um…I’m sort of new at this. How do we do that?”
She smiled at me. “You have star charts, yes?”
I nodded. “Anything in the Taelon data base, I got.”
“Good. Please access them.”
I bought up the files and sat back as she scrutinized them for a while. Finally she pointed to a star in a distant galaxy. “There. That one.”
I punched up the star. Four planets, one too hot, one too cold, and two orbiting each other that were…well, just right. “Looks good,” I said. “They look like they can sustain life.”
She nodded. “They can indeed. They are, in fact, extremely fertile and suitable for Humans, Taelons, and Kimera like. The tropical regions of the planet would be preferable, as that is where all necessary resources for sentient life come together in a convenient manner.”
I raised my eyebrows. “How do you know so much about this place?”
She smiled mysteriously. “When I was a youth, I used to dream of running away to a distant world, where no one could ever find me. Since I had much time on my hands, as you would say, I used to study survey reports and star charts, to find the perfect place to escape to.” She lifted her chin defiantly.
“Well, what do you know?” I breathed. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I do now that you have informed me of it.”
I laughed. “It looks like you’ve found the perfect place alright, now all we have to do is get there.”
“The interdimensional drive…you can repair it?”
I nodded. “I think so. It’ll take some time though…don’t worry, we have plenty of supplies. You may not find them the best, but they’ll do for nutrients. The regular drive is undamaged, though.”
She thought for a moment. “Would it be possible to travel through regular space while repairing the ID drive?”
“Well…” I hadn’t really thought about it. “Yes, I think so. Why?”
“I would like to see some things in this universe, in realspace, before we settle on a planet. I have studied so much about the phenomena found in space, I would like to see them for myself, I think.”
I understood that. “We’d be travelling at near-lightspeed, though. We’d go through months while the rest of the universe went through years, decades even.”
“Do you not think that it would be best to put as much time, as well as space between ourselves and ‘the rest of the universe’?” she asked.
“Good point.” What really mattered was how we experienced time in relation to each other. After all, we were all we had.
We traveled in Realspace for a long time, in a direction roughly towards Lei’ail’s dream planet. I repaired the ID drive slowly, but surely. I can’t say how much time went by. Months, maybe, the way we experienced it. It was all relative, anyway.
We saw such wonderful things…I can’t describe them to you. Vast nebulae in a rainbow of color far surpassing the most vivid earthly sunset. Huge yellow suns and tiny dwarf stars. Planets with rings, and moons, and even binary systems, the two stars orbiting each other. Comets of ice and glittering crystal, and an asteroid field with huge chunks of precious metals, simply floating around. Even an awesome black hole, a rip in the fabric of space itself, engulfing everything near it.
We also went through long stretches of nothingness. Well, not nothing, but far away from anything bigger than dust. The star field was always there, mesmerizing. I never got tired of looking at it, and neither did Lei’ail.
Finally the drive was repaired, and we were ready to set foot on solid ground again. The trip through ID was not as long as I’d expected, and at last we entered orbit around the planet. It was breathtaking.
It had fewer oceans than Earth, more like fifty- percent water. But it looked very much like earth, in most ways. The vegetation was the same color as home, which was a relief. The oceans were…well, they were yellow, okay? Actually more like golden…Anyway, it was weird. Pretty, but weird. Thankfully, there was plenty of fresh water on the planet, too.
I couldn’t wait to get down there, and actually breathe fresh air again. Before I could start our decent, Lei’ail spoke up. “It needs a name.”
“Pardon?”
“You humans like to name things, do you not?”
I smiled. “Yes…some more than others.”
“Do you not think that our new home should have a name?” One bare brow was raised mischievously.
I grinned. “It should at that…” I thought for a moment. At last I snapped my fingers. “Valhalla!” I said excitedly.
She furrowed her brow. “Valhalla…” she said thoughtfully. “It is very pretty…What significance does it have?”
I warmed immediately to my topic. “Valhalla was the heaven of a group of humans who lived in a very northern part of out planet. They believed that all those who died brave deaths would go to Valhalla, a paradise, where they would be reunited with their loved ones forever, and would be able to fight in gloriously eternal battle, where the dead would return each evening to feast and sing with their comrades.”
She wrinkled her nose in that strange way of hers. “It does not sound too terribly appropriate to me,” she said.
“No, look at it this way,” I told her, not willing to give up on my name so easily. “First,” I began counting on my fingers, “we fought so hard to get where we are. Surely we qualify as brave warriors by now. Second, we are dead to the rest of the universe, and this place is our heaven, our paradise. Third, it will be a fight to survive on this world, but it will be one we can enjoy and celebrate every day. Fourth, we have our loved ones…er, one to fight along side us. And fifth…um…fifth…Well, I just like the sound of it, alright!”
Her lovely eyes sparkled at me. “You have won me over. Valhalla, our new home.”
“Thank you,” I told her, beginning our decent. I landed us near a place where a large river met the vast golden sea. There was a thick forest behind us, and snow-capped mountains in the distance, rising far above anything ever seen on Earth. It was beautiful. It was perfect…
Making a life for ourselves was hard…but not impossible. We had everything we needed; I knew a lot about survival. For awhile it was shades of Swiss Family Robinson (which, by the way, came in quite handy, thank you very much.)
But soon we had a nice temporary dwelling set up, and a permanent structure in progress, with plans for a solar power source made from the clean Taelon energy crystals I had appropriated. The spot was right on the beach, a beach, I might add, of pea sized, perfectly round, shining black stones.
Lei’ail’s baby was born only weeks after we arrived. We named him Cao’lán, a perfect solution. Minus the apostrophe, it means slender in Gaelic, which certainly fit him. In Eunoia, it sounded almost exactly like the word that could mean ‘new life’, ‘alone’, ‘made of many parts’, and ‘wrath of heaven’, depending on the way it was said. We weren’t too sure about the ‘wrath of heaven’ part, but we figured it would sort itself out in the end.
We knew we should probably cannibalize Galadriel for her parts, but neither of us ever got around to it. We knew that someday we, or more likely, one of our children or children’s children, would want to leave here, and return to the races that gave us birth. It wouldn’t be for a long time, but it would happen.
We have everything we need, now. A beautiful home, one that looks like the product of an advanced civilization, not like a tree house. We have plenty of power, a good computer, and a library of real books, some of the ones I brought with me, and some of the ones we printed into hardcopies from the computer, with paper of our own making. We have a greenhouse, too, and domesticated animals for wool and milk and transportation, but never for meat. We swore that we would never take the life of any living creature, unless it was absolutely necessary.
We discovered that the water in the ocean was not salt water, but contained proteins, amino acids, and sugars. I fancied it tasted like the nectar of the gods, and it could sustain life for a long time, without food or sleep becoming necessary. We never did find out how it worked, only that it did.
Cao’lán is grown now, he grew quickly, in only a year or so. Lei’ail and I have other children, too, children that we made together. Five now, and two more on the way. Cao’lán looks Taelon, much like his mother, but the others…are something new. They look fairly human, except their skin is translucently pale and doesn’t tan. They all have midnight-black hair, very fine and straight. They have Shaqarava, and what’s more they can control it. Their eyes…range from Taelon blue to Lei’ail’s purple to a sea-foam green (if the sea foam here were green).
We are happy here, in our life. We have built a miniature society here, the blending of three races previously at war. It truly is Valhalla here, paradise among the stars. There are three moons in our sky (did I mention that the sky was purple?), and at least one was always visible both night and day. Our sister planet loomed ever above us, quite inviting. It was lovely there, too, and we made many trips there to bring back foodstuffs that did not grow on Valhalla. We named it Asgard, and managed to introduce several species of animal and plant life from there, that great benefited Valhalla’s ecosystem.
We never stayed on Asgard long, however, for it was home to a very primitive race, little above man’s caveman stage, and we did not want to disturb them. We did however, leave several domesticated animals of a species native to both our worlds near one of their camps, in order to help them along a bit.
The gravity here, on Valhalla, is about point eight gees, and the oxygen content is slightly higher than that of Earth. Between that and the ‘magic water’ I expect to live a very long time indeed. I’m neigh on forty now, and have yet to age perceptibly from my mid-twenties.
Lei’ail and I have taught our children diligently, as much as we could possibly manage about Humanity, Taelons, and the vanished Kimera. It is our hope that, after Taelons and Humanity have joined together, our descendants may rejoin them in peace, bringing all we have learned back into the whole. Especially since we have discovered in our records that Major Kincaid, Da’an’s protector, is a Kimera hybrid, the son of Kel’san’s husband. Lei’ail fervently prays that we will eventually be able to bring the all of the last Kimera blood together, and bring back that lost and noble race to the universe.
I do not think this is an impossible, or even an unlikely dream. I think it is our destiny, if there really is such a thing. Perhaps one day we will even join with our neighbors, the People of the Dawn, as they call themselves.
For now, however, I am quite content to live here with my family, in our homemade heaven. I could write endlessly about our life here, my wife, and my children. But it is getting dark, and my little daughter, Sio’fra, my youngest, is calling me. Can you hear her?
“Papa, papa, are you coming? The silver moon and the blue moon are coming up soon, and you don’t want to miss it! You promised to teach me how to swim, remember? How to swim by the soft rainbow moonlight, where the green river meets the gold sea.”
So, as you see, I must go. But I will say that I hope that someday…somehow, the ones I wrote about in this story will read this and know how they effected my life, and what they help bring about. I don’t even know if my mother, or Da’an, or Desa, or Steve, or anyone is still alive back on Earth. Because of the time we spent travelling in realspace…I have no idea how much time has passed. So if any of you are reading this…thank you. Through your kindness and love, I have come home.
“Papa, come on! I’m waiting for you.”
“I’m coming, my daughter…I’m coming.”
Here is the end of my writing…for now. But I will not leave you with the usual goodbye, the proclamation of “The End” with a presumptive flourish. So instead, I bid you well and give you…