CHAPTER 11 (ELIZABETH)
I enter the Tea Room right on time to hear my sister welcoming the human visitors.
They are still grouped next to the entrance, Christine and Paul, lofty Charles and easy-going Hank Mertens, Commander Koslowsky and Tim Morris, the quiet guard. I don’t know the last one, a thin olive-skinned man sporting a goatee.
I’m glad to see them, and somehow my perspective has changed. I’ve always seen the humans as large, sturdy and somehow gangly beings. Looking through my new avatar’s eyes, the two military people are still intimidating, but the rest of them look normal. Christine and the unknown male are actually smaller than me. I smile, taking a couple of steps forward and Charles is the first one to notice me.
“What?”
“Charles my dear, you have the tendency to exclaim at the most inappropriate times.”
I’m mortified. Charles remark was, of course, a blunder, but my response was equally rude. Once again, my self-control has failed, and I tend to throw in unthought comments. Reith catches my eye and shakes her head minutely.
“Who are you?”, continues the biologist entirely non-plussed.
“Elizabeth Ashar, the Chaos Queen.”
Silence meets my introduction. I’m slightly confused for I would have expected a warm greeting considering humans’ effusive nature. Well, maybe not from Commander Koslowsky, as he didn’t exactly like me following his team’s forced removal from Western Aldeea, but definitely from Peter and Christine. Peter looks anything but happy, and his face is stark white. Quite the opposite, the normally reserved Christine seems ready to burst.
“Are you the new Chaos Queen?”, she asks.
“I am Elizabeth Ashar Sen’Dorien, the Queen of Chaos. Your friend.”
“How can it be? Ellandra was our friend.”
I’m still their friend. The humans seem to be still unclear on the difference between an avatar and a queen. Indeed, I never explained it, but there was no reason for secrecy after the siege. Aleen or one of the other Aldeeans must have told them. If not, somebody from the Diplomatic Corps, as I can see one of their officers next to our guests.
I decide to spell it once and for all, in clear, unequivocal terms.
“Ellandra perished with the Endeavour. I reincorporated as a new Avatar and chose the name Elizabeth to honour Liz Hamilton.”
I expect surprise and confusion this time, and I’m not disappointed. It’s difficult to explain the avatar concept to an alien race, as we realise every time we encounter new sentients. It doesn’t help that ourselves, the queens, are not entirely clear of our origins. Oh yes, we do remember snippets from our first life, but not the actual start of the avatars cycle.
Charles is the first one coming to terms with this situation. Surprisingly he seems the most adaptable human in this group.
“Let me get this straight. Did you die and then were reborn as a human, taking the name Elizabeth to honour Liz Hamilton’s death?”
No, I see no point in honouring somebody’s death. Death is the end of a lifecycle and the beginning of the next. A moment suspended in time.
“To honour her life, first and foremost.”
Christine seems to have finally found her voice.
“Are you the same person, the same entity we met on Aldeea?”
“Yes Christine, I’m the same person. I’m the one with whom you spent hours talking about Earth and Aldeea. The person you dined with. The one you taught chess.”
It finally registers to them. I see blank incomprehension morphing into something else. Wonder, suspicion, joy …. Horror.
“How could you do it?” asks Peter. If anything, his face is even whiter than before.
Something is wrong. Something escapes me, and I’m not sure what. Was I mistaken? Do humans believe that their names should be unique to each individual? Did I break their customs by sharing Liz’s name?
“What do you mean, Peter? I feel unsure, and I respond to his question with one of my own. Liz has told me humans often honour heroes and kin by naming their descendants after them. Did I do wrong to take Liz’s name?”
“You took more than this. You became her.”
This is utter nonsense. Peter acts illogically, and I don’t understand why. Names don’t make a person, he should know better than this. I’m not Liz. I don’t look like her, and I don’t share her memories. Mine are more than enough. There is no such thing as life after death.
“I did not! Liz is dead, Peter and I’m no copy of her. I am the same Ashar Sen’Dorien you met on Aldeea, no more and no less. This human form was an unintended consequence. I was dying at that time, and I wasn’t fully aware of my actions. But I don’t regret it as I intend to help your path to the Dominion.”
I’m not sure my words have any effect on Peter. He seems lost, for some reason my appearance …, name …., looks …., affected him more than any of the others. He and Liz were closest to Ellandra, closest to me. I would have thought he’ll be glad to see me and approve of me honouring Liz. Why was he taking it personally? Unless …
My train of thought is broken by Commander Koslowsky.
“Your majesty, what do you mean by helping our path to the Dominion? On Aldeea we agreed that Earth remains off-limits. If you are Ellandra, you must remember that.”
“I promised I will not pry Earth’s location from you, and I keep my promises. But surely you understand that your world is in the Scourge’s path and sooner or later they’ll stumble across humanity. You have no way to protect yourself against their control. We do.”
I try to lay it down as plainly as I can. This was no time to ramble and waffle, they need to understand clearly where we stand.
“This group has no authority to represent the entire human race. Not even Captain Holt is entitled to do this. Our mission, Kepler 452, was a purely fact-finding mission, not an attempt to contact the Haillar.”
“See the facts for yourself, then. You’ve been on Aldeea. You’ve seen the siege. You’ve seen the power of our enemy, while fortunately not been exposed to their mind control. The Archives of Lore can provide you with records going back thousands of years. Hundreds of campaigns. Put your facts together and make up your minds.”
“We still cannot decide on behalf of humanity,” continued the human stubbornly.
“I’m not asking you to make a political decision. I’m asking you much more than this. You should decide if you trust us, and in doing so, choose the future of your race. Or more precisely, choose if your race will have any future.”
“And should we choose to trust you? What next?”
“I’ll help you to contact your world. Give them the facts, let them make the political choices.”
“Is there even a choice?”
“There is always a choice. You can choose to become part of the Dominion, or remain a stand-alone star nation allied with us, for example.”
“What’s the difference? Will you defend us either way?”
“We will. But if you become part of the Dominion, you will fall under the Sen’Haillar Shield. We will protect you, no matter the cost. To death, if needed.”
“What if we choose to stay independent? Are there other allied races not part of the Dominion?”
“No. The kalan and the escurga started by being independent allies but eventually joined our confederation. Sooner or later, the potential benefits became clear and eventually outweighed their mistrust. It’s not just about defence. Dominion worlds get cheap portal technology, get access to shared resources, rights of settlement on newly discovered worlds, to name only a few benefits. The core-ward half of our partner races never needed military protection, they joined us purely for economic reasons.”
I can see the human officer considering my argument. It is a heartfelt plea, a convincing one as it’s entirely true. No hidden traps, no fine print. Mutual benefit binds the Dominion together. It’s the basis of our confederation today, same as it was seventy-thousand years ago when the first accord was signed.
It’s what makes us strong, the reason our alliance endures.
“Think about this”, I continue and signal Chalissa’s deputy. “Eneid will lead you to your chambers, and we’ll see each other at dinner. A proper dinner this time, and one where we can share food and drinks that you would hopefully enjoy. And a different type of tea.”
Synthesising food that was adequate for my human body and didn’t taste like sawdust was quite a challenge the first ten-day after I reborn. My first tea with Reith made me better appreciate the torture I repeatedly inflicted on my human guests.
Artificially grown nutrients tasted awful, but I had to live with them until our Life adepts came with a different solution. Such as developing taste-free additives that could be mixed with some of the regular Haillar food and provide required nourishment without ruining the dishes. Nothing could be done about something that tasted foul to human palates to begin with, like our regular tea for example. Luckily, I found an acceptable substitute for the brew.
✽✽✽
“I’m sorry to say it, but this was far from the joyous reunion you expected”, observed Reith on a neutral tone.
She’s right, of course. Surprisingly, the highlight of the entire discussion was my exchange with Koslowsky. Christine and especially Peter couldn’t go past the shock of meeting Elizabeth and seemed to have difficulties identifying me with the friend they lost on Aldeea.
“I fear my understanding of the human customs is severely lacking. I was convinced that by choosing Liz’s name I would bring her honour, while judging by Peter’s reaction, I somehow tainted her memory. Though I fail to see how this could happen.”
“Maybe it’s not about you, maybe it’s about him. Have you thought that he and Liz might have been a couple, and seeing you might have resurfaced painful memories?”
This is entirely too possible. I remember the way Liz was looking at Peter, the joy in her eyes. Liz was always full of life, but she was positively shining when she was next to her Lore friend. The more I’m thinking of it, the more I’m sure that my sister is right. She’s much better than me at paying attention, of watching people and trying to understand them.
“Yet I look nowhere near as Liz,” I complain.
It’s true. My human form is taller and more athletic than Liz, and my face is different. My hair is shiny gold, and my eyes are blue. Even my skin is a different shade, peach with a hint of tan, as opposed to Liz’s white complexion.
“But you are right, it wasn’t just the name, it was this body he found repulsive. In Peter’s eyes, by taking it, I somehow managed to tarnish Liz’s image, to stain her memory.”
“How exactly did you create this form, Ashar? It’s not as if you have met many humans to create an archetype.”
Each time we reborn, we draw from memory a template, an ideal form combining features from millions of Haillar we had met during all past lives. And yet, in this case, I’ve only met a score of humans and my looks are nothing like them. My body should have been a combination between Liz and Christine’s features, their female pilot’s and a few others I glimpsed on the bridge. It wasn’t the case, for I didn’t look like any of them. Somehow, I must have based my template on a shard of Liz’s memory, same as the cat image earlier today. Was it a real person, somebody Peter knew and possibly hates? This would have explained his reaction, seeing me bearing Liz name and the face of her nemesis.
I need to ask him to ‘clear the air’ as humans said to me on Aldeea. Yet I fear I’ll upset him even more, and making Peter suffer is the last thing I want to do. I want to soothe his pain, to make him feel happy yet for all my millennia of recalls, I don’t know how.
CHAPTER 12 (PETER)
“That was undeniably crazy!”
Hank Martens’ remark was the perfect summary of our reunion with the Chaos Queen. We had seen plenty of impossible things since landing at the Citadel, but Ellandra’s death and revival were by far the weirdest of them all.
“I never believed in reincarnation”, muttered Koslowski. “I always considered it to be a metaphor at best and superstitious nonsense at worst.”
“Samsara,” responded Christine. “Means ‘wandering’ in Sanskrit. The ongoing cycle of deaths and rebirths, one of the oldest religious concepts on Earth.”
“There is a big difference between the Vedic philosophies and Ellandra’s very real reincarnation. As a human, no less.”
“Why do you think so, Charles? If I remember correctly, this is exactly what the circle of life meant. A succession of death and rebirths, in different forms, as different species, or as beings in some other non-human realm of existence.”
“Because Ellandra’s reappearance is not about death and rebirth, about the beginning of a new life. It’s the continuation of the old one, only reincarnated in a different body. Ellandra is dead, but Ashar continues to live, her past memories intact, her social status unchanged.”
I was amazed by Charles’ depths. For the first time since Ellandra’s death, our hosts’ obscure statements concerning their departed queen made perfect sense. Except for a single detail, minor but so important to me.
“What about Liz?”
“You’ve heard Ashar, Peter. Liz is gone, only her name remains,” responds Christine sadly.
“Is she?” continued unperturbed Charles. “Earlier on, when we’ve met, the Chaos Queen’s rebuke addressed to me sounded very much like something Liz used to say.”
That was my fondest hope and at the same time, my worst fear. Could it be true? Could Liz be alive in that stranger’s body? Was this the reason this woman seemed so familiar, like someone I knew all my life despite meeting her today for the first time?
“Charles, this would be madness. We’ve learned that the queens’ histories are as old as the Dominion. We now suspect the Haillar were not talking figuratively, but they were actually referring to the same twelve women reincarnating again and again. This means that Ellandra, or better said Ashar, has lived thousands of lives by now. Enough to drive a sane person mad without adding ghosts into the mix.”
“Stop it!” I shouted. “It’s Liz we are talking about.”
“Sorry Peter, I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful” responded Christine meekly. “I’m only saying it is wrong to even entertain such thoughts. We need to let the spirits go because our own minds will be in danger otherwise. I’m not only talking about you, as I’m also talking about me and every one of us who lost a dear friend on Aldeea.”
“How can this even be possible?” asked Mateo Fiorelli, returning to the topic of Ashar’s reincarnation. “Philosophy aside, how is this physically possible? Ellandra burned with Endeavour, she was gone in less than a second.”
Nobody could come with a logical explanation. Not even Charles.
“We need to find out as much as possible about the Sen’Haillar” concluded Commander Koslowski. “Despite living amongst them for the past month, we realise again and again we know next to nothing about their race.”
✽✽✽
Ashar’s private dinner was an elegant affair.
We met in a stylish dining area, large but not exaggeratedly so compared to some of the halls we’d seen in the Sen’Dorien residence. I would assume the room could indeed be considered cosy by the standards of this place. A glass wall was dominating the background offering a stunning panorama of the bay below.
I could see that the Chaos Queen had tried her best to make our reunion as informal as possible. The lights were pleasantly dim, emphasising the night view outside. The room was tastily decorated but not overdone, and the queen herself was dressed in a simple yet elegant robe, wearing minimal makeup if any, her hair falling free in a cascade of golden curls. She wasn’t elaborately primed, and she didn’t need to be. Even unadorned, her presence was filling the room with beauty and grace, a regal demeanour if there ever was one.
Yet, if her intention was to put us at ease, she fell way short of her goal, at least as far as I was concerned. I’d seen my share of formal ev
ents, some in Cambridge, in my university research days, some later with the space program. I couldn’t remember any of them being more unnerving than this low-key dinner with Ashar. I settled to think about the Chaos Queen as being Ashar, for Ellandra was no more and I couldn’t convince myself to call her Elizabeth. Not yet, maybe not ever.
I can’t say my reticence was shared by most of our group. Christine and Commander Koslowski seemed eager to continue the earlier discussion with the queen, Hank Mertens adopted his usual easy-going stance, while Dr Fiorelli was fascinated by every alien detail. The astronomer was the only one of us who wasn’t part of the original landing team on Aldeea and seemed set to make up for this on Tao Bellona.
We moved around a table loaded with a selection of Aldeean dishes and surrounded by backless stools reminiscent of ancient Roman chairs. Ashar took a seat in front of the window, the night landscape a stunning background behind her, somehow complementing the queen’s surreal presence. Christine and surprisingly Charles Swanson joined her on either side, while Commander Koslowski had to be happy with the next available seat. The other followed through, and to my dismay, I ended up on the other side of the table, directly across from Ashar.
“I know that berry!” stated Charles completely non-plussed, pointing towards a platter loaded with fruits. “I’m pretty sure it’s mildly poisonous, as it was tested and discarded as inedible for us, humans.”
“Everything on this table should be edible and, I believe, reasonably tasty” replayed Ashar. “Being physically human, I’m equally affected by anything harmful to you, and I perceive flavours the same way you do. Though I admit, I don’t have enough exposure to human food to genuinely distinguish an excellent dish.”
While the biologist continued to measure the platter sceptically, Christine didn’t hesitate to pick the berry in question and bite it in half, reminding me of the time she was the first swallowing her Haillar synthesised drug on Endeavours’ bridge. Despite her unfortunate history with Haillar poisons, or maybe because of it, the French seemed to be the first one to take Ashar’s assurances for granted.
Human Page 9
