by Ran Vant
“We remember the time before, too,” Niles said. “That is why we must destroy you, for what you and your kind wrought then, the way you treated us like slaves, the way you killed us, robbed us of hope. You made yourselves gods and oppressed us, the weak, the meek. Someone had to be powerful enough to avenge them, to regain the earth for those for whom it was intended.”
“Well, my friend, now that very thing shall be fulfilled. But you are no longer the weak or the meek. You are more gen now than trud. And so you are coming with us.”
“We’ll never give up what we’ve become. We’ll never stop trying to destroy you after what you’ve done. We won’t stop until we see the end of you.”
“You may well yet see it. But it won’t be here. Come. We leave for New Worlds.”
114.
Contention
“Well, my friend,” Felix said, “it seems that after these many years, we finally managed to do it.”
“Indeed,” the shadow said. “As you can imagine, there are a few gens who are furious, but the undecided have now been swayed, and those who wanted to stay have been outvoted.”
“Do you think there is any risk of your involvement being discovered?” Felix asked.
“Between now and when we leave Earth, beyond the Barrier? None. But one day, knowledge of my role is inevitable. The data is there; it only needs to be discovered. By that time, however, reality will have changed the nature of the debate. Don’t worry about me, Felix.”
“I hate to be selfish, but I was also thinking of myself. Does anything indicate the NHA is aware of my role? They would not understand that I was helping the truds by helping you influence the others. If they knew who you truly are...”
“No, my friend. No one knows that you knew our goal. The Council meets even now, and all of their reports will indicate that your attack was successful as far as it went. They may even think for a while that we have been completely destroyed as they learn of the green rain and then find no trace of us. You are safe, Felix.”
“And Clara? Is she safe?”
“Thank you for watching over her. I got your message in time: she lives. She is like a daughter to me, but there comes a time when every parent must let their children chart their own path. And there is yet one who has chosen to walk that path with her.”
The shadow laughed.
“What is so funny?” Felix asked.
“A conversation with the one you sometimes call Niles: at this very moment he is not too happy about joining the rest of us as we depart for new worlds. The True Core base raid you set up long ago turned out to be the ruse to finally trick the Network. Niles found it quite convincing, especially when he read Damien's mind about the Greendust from so long ago. But now he is quite angry with me. The connection is obscure, but he reminds me of an animal that after many years still hisses at the keeper who has rescued the animal from certain death, nursed it through the healing process, and continues to provide for it in its even though it may never be strong enough to survive on its own, for its wounds are deep. I could laugh or I could cry about Niles and the Network. I choose to laugh, though not to his face. Now that his goals have been accomplished, albeit probably not in the way he intended, he can’t let go of what he’s become. In time, I have hope he will change. But one can never know. It is for him to decide, not me.”
“Even after all this time, there are truds who still fight, who think it possible to contend with your kind.”
“You contend with me, Felix.”
“But not in the same manner.”
“No, not in the same manner indeed. But contend you do.”
Epilogue
I wish I could say it was the end of conflict on Earth and in the heavens above, but it was not. They were, or were once, only human after all. I do not know when it started, and I do not know when it ends. All I know is what has been and what might be. And I do not think that they are the same.
The gens departed from the earth, beyond the Barrier, to space, to terraformed planetary neighbors, eventually to the heavens beyond. Some have maintained bodies of flesh and bone. Some might still remind you of yourselves. Many have given up existing in only one place. Some have the habit of multiplying themselves, indeed, sometimes even dividing themselves. Some have given up emotion and focus on thought. Some have given up thought and bathe themselves in emotion. Some do, others watch. Some have folded in on themselves and become like little black boxes, the inner workings invisible to the rest of us, locking themselves up so tight that others don’t even know if they are still alive. Who knows what they think, what those black cubes plan, the question bricks? Others have expanded and connected themselves so much that one cannot tell where one ends and another begins. Others have shrunk to tightly knit communities, impenetrable to the rest of us. Some have abandoned community and launched themselves into the deepness of space to wallow in their own thoughts and creations of the mind. Others have launched themselves towards the reality of yet other worlds, to colonize, to explore, to adventure, to escape, to live. And a few had grander plans.
As for the little blue ball rolling around the sun, after the green rain the truds inherited the earth, and the distinctions were no longer Trud and Gen, but Fanatic and Faithful, Northlander and Southlander, Advancer and Purified, Us and Them... and many things in between.
The one called Michael stayed behind with Maren. Michael lived in the Refuge Territories, still engaged in the pursuit, hunting big game on the plains until he was called to another purpose. As for Maren, should I once more call her Clara? Or should we instead name her for what she was to become?
I discover now that the influence of the past is not as easy to change as I once imagined, and the future changes more than I thought possible. If I could do it over, I am not sure that I would. But at the same time, I can’t let go of whom I have become. The question is: could one change it, even if one wanted to?
Now, at the rising dawn of technology, long before its light has fallen into darkness, you have a choice. Modology, the technology of change, is on the horizon, and decisions cast a long shadow. Some will attempt to hasten its arrival. Others will try to stop it. Some will try to make it different. Others will do nothing. And one of you will not understand its true meaning for many years.
As for me, I still wonder if I made the right decision, or if it was even me who made it. Perhaps I have changed. Or perhaps I just remember the way I was before.
Because before, out there somewhere in the sea of humanity, I am you and you are me, the shadow of the future.
