Whatever the reason, this revelation made him even more certain that Remnant was in fact the reason he had been spared from the Second Purge. They needed him, they needed leadership. They had the opportunity to start over, to put the wars and conflicts behind them and this might be humanity’s last chance at doing so. He only prayed that Numinae would give him wisdom, for in and of himself he had little confidence in his ability to guide these people.
At last the door slid open and all thoughts of his military life and the wars of the past vanished as Sierra’s slender figure appeared before him. She wore a plain, unadorned white gown made from loose fitting fabric. It was the perfect contrast to his stifling black attire. Her face was pale and her eyes were tired and apprehensive, but to Matthew she had never looked more beautiful.
“Sierra,” he said, his heart quickening as he spoke her name.
She stood with her hand against the door frame as though a great gulf and not a single step spanned the distance between them.
“Hello…Matthew,” she said. “Or should I call you Adan?”
“Matthew is fine,” he said. “Though it really doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here.”
Neither one of them seemed willing to move or say anything more for several nervous moments until at last Matthew worked up the courage to speak again.
“I know it’s only been a few days since we last saw each other, but it feels like I’ve lived another life since then. I guess Gavin told you that I know who I am now. And I wanted you to know that a lot has changed, including my feelings for you.”
Sierra gripped the frame of the doorway. “I understand—” she began.
“Wait, let me finish,” he interrupted. “I didn’t know before what to call what I felt for you, but I do now. Your compassion, the way you listen, your tenderness. I felt close to you from the very first moment, I just didn’t have a name for it.”
She ventured a timid smile, but doubt lingered in her eyes. “So what exactly are you saying? You know I can’t read minds like you.”
“I’m saying that…I love you, Sierra.”
Sierra released her hold on the doorway and fell into his arms. As tightly as she clung to him, Matthew could not imagine a gentler embrace. The warmth of her arms flowed through the rigid fabric of his suit as the ship, his quarters, the world entire, floated away until only the two of them were left.
“I love you too,” she murmured in his ear.
Matthew might have stayed in her arms forever if Sierra had not pulled back and looked up into his eyes.
“There is one thing I need to know, though,” she said. “I was just wondering if—if there wasn’t someone else in your life before…before you came here. Did you…have a family?”
Matthew searched her face, wondering what had caused her to ask such a question at that moment. After a bit of reflection, he thought he knew. “Yes. But they’re all dead now,” he said. “If you’re asking if I was ever married, though, the answer is no. No, there was never anyone like that in my life.”
The last of her doubts fled from her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, tenderly. “Were they killed in the—in what happened on your home world?”
“I still don’t have all the details, but my father and mother died sometime before the Purge. I was adopted and taken in by the Yin family.”
“And what about your adopted family? What happened to them?”
“My adopted father actually died before I was old enough to remember him. I was raised, more or less, by my sister, Sun li. I don’t remember much about her, though I do remember her husband. His name was Bunyan. My memories are sketchy that far back though. The remin fluid Gavin gave me only went back about six months.”
“It must be hard, remembering people and knowing that they are all gone.”
“Yes and no. I do feel the loss. It’s fresh now, almost like it just happened even though it was a long time ago. And yet I am grateful for having known them at all. When I sit back and think of all the people Numinae sent into my life, it fills my heart with gratitude. He could have left me to die with my parents; he could have let me die in the Great Purge; he could have let me die when my ship crashed on the planet Nai; he could have let me be killed in Manx Core, or on the Nebula, but he didn’t. He preserved me through all of this for no reason other than his goodness.”
A shadow passed over Sierra’s face at these words. With his abilities as a memorant now restored, Matthew saw her thoughts turn to those who had been killed since the destruction of Oasis.
“I know we should be thankful for the people we do have, but it’s hard sometimes,” she confessed.
“Yes. Yes it is.” He could feel the weight of her internal struggles and sorrow pulling her down.
“Did they tell you about Tarn?” she asked. From the look on her face he could already tell what she was going to say.
“He didn’t make it, then. They—the Collective would have had no use for taking a Wayman prisoner…”
Sierra hurriedly brushed away the tears which fell from her eyes. Matthew let out a long sigh and his joy began to dim.
“Did you know of Numinae back on Kess?” Sierra asked after a long painful silence.
“Yes, though again, I don’t remember much.”
“And did you ever have a hard time believing in him or trusting him back then? Or even now, after all that’s happened?” Sierra’s troubled expression reminded him of how he felt when he had asked a similar question of Zain.
“Faith is certainly not an easy path. And the hardest thing, I think, is that Numinae often turns out to be different than what we imagine. But we are not to think of him as how we would like him to be, but as he really is. It’s hard, but it gives us strength, because it forces us to go beyond our simple conceptions and understandings. The essence of knowledge is not the accumulation of information, but surrendering to the truth.”
“Hmm,” she mused. “If that’s so, then maybe my doubts come not so much from my not knowing who he is, but from my unwillingness to accept who he reveals himself to be.”
He placed his hand on the side of her face, his hope renewed by the light of her eyes. “There is so much we do not know, but we have a lifetime to discover it,” he said. “As many years as Numinae sees fit to grant us.”
Forty-Two
All Things Are Passing
Raif gave Matthew a playful punch in the arm as they walked into the hallway outside the council room.
“Ow!” Matthew clutched his arm and grimaced, though it really didn’t hurt that much. “What was that for?”
“For knocking them dead in the meeting. You and Gavin really had them under your spell. You weren’t using mind tricks on us, were you?” Raif joked.
Gavin walked up behind them. “Uh oh. If you’re saying I did well, does that mean you’re going to punch me too?”
“Nah,” Raif replied with a full-toothed grin. “I was going to punch you either way.” He made as if he meant to give Gavin a shot to the arm, but then pulled his fist back with a laugh.
Whatever the circumstances, Raif’s playfulness was the one constant Matthew could count on. Even though the meeting they had just left had been filled with posturing and tense debate between the various factions represented on the Radix, he was in high spirits as always.
As Farin had warned, there were indeed deep differences amongst the groups about how to move forward. The one positive thing Matthew took away from the meeting was the sense that most of the people gathered were weary of war and ready for a new beginning. Perhaps the speeches and ceremonies scheduled to take place during the banquet would do a better job at fostering a stronger bond between the various groups involved.
Matthew thought Gavin’s presence had been an important factor in keeping the meeting from veering off course. As such an advanced memorant, he could sense the mood not just of individuals, but of the group as a whole. He always seemed to know the right thing to say. But it wasn’t just his ability t
o read the crowd that allowed him to be such a calming influence. The more he spoke, the more obvious it became how valuable his insights and experiences would be when it came to the daunting task of reestablishing the human race on a new world. Everyone knew they could not survive on the Radix forever.
“So, are you heading with us to the ceremony?” Matthew asked.
“Well, I need to go back to my quarters first. I think I’m going to try a new hair color for the big shindig.” Raif pretended to strike a solemn air. “Maybe I’ll go for green this time to commemorate the occasion—new beginning and all that.”
“You’re serious?” Gavin asked.
Raif gave him one of his trademark deadpan looks. His orange hair did look a bit faded. “When am I ever serious?”
“When you’re talking about ships and vintage tech,” Matthew said.
“Okay, whatever.” Raif rolled his eyes. “Actually, I do need to swing by and pick up Cade. You two go on ahead without me, eh?”
“All right, Raif,” Gavin said. “Just don’t take so long on your hair that you miss the ceremony.”
“Got it, genius.” Raif formed his hands into the shape of two pistols. Giving them both a parting shot, he winked and took his leave.
Gavin and Matthew turned and headed down the corridor toward the banquet hall. After they got past the congested area outside the council room, Matthew caught sight of the endless expanse of space through one of the windows in the hallway. The smoldering husk of Nai loomed large in the distance. It was no longer green, the cloudy atmosphere having been consumed by the paroxysm. What remained was a smooth, featureless black sphere with little flecks of blue. It looked in some ways like a giant ball of celerium. Matthew had seen the pictures of Kess after the first Great Purge and it had looked very similar, except the flecks there had been more red. No human life could exist on Nai now. Even if some of the Welkin had fled deep enough into the Viscera to avoid the excoriation, they would soon suffocate and die from the lack of an atmosphere. The only reason the people of Kess had managed to avoid extermination during the First Great Purge was because they were able to retreat into specially outfitted bunkers buried deep enough underground to withstand the attack and sustain them afterwards. After that they had begun building ships and moving the survivors into space, much the way Remnant was being forced to do now.
As Matthew stared at the lifeless husk, a great sadness arose within him, threatening to cloud all the hopefulness he had taken from the meeting.
“Why? Why do you think Darius destroyed the planet?” he asked Gavin, “Wouldn’t destroying the Delegation have been enough?”
Gavin sighed as he often did when speaking about his former mentor. “I don’t know,” he said. “From your description of him, it sounds like he lost all sense of reason. Perhaps some day we could use the chronotrace to go back and find out what he was thinking, but I doubt even then it would make much sense.”
“His brain might have been injured in the storm that destroyed Oasis,” Matthew said. “Still, he knew enough to operate the instrument panel. I have no doubt that at some level he knew exactly what he was doing.”
Gavin walked more slowly, as if the subject drained him. “Did you know that before he became the leader of Deliverance and the Collective, before he became ‘The Doctor,’ he was studying to become a priest?”
“Darius? Are you sure?”
“I found an entry about it in the Delegation records. They have few details about him, but that was one. I found it odd, too. But I think his defiance of his Creator makes more sense knowing that he had consciously chosen a different path.”
“Still, that’s a disturbing thought,” Matthew said. “I can’t imagine anyone who knew Numinae would turn from him so completely.”
“It is a danger we all face,” Gavin said. “Some follow him at first because they think he is a certain way, and when they find out he is not what they wanted, they turn and follow their own desires instead.”
Matthew shook his head, wondering if the Delegation records were accurate. The man he saw in the control room on the Nebula hated Numinae, that much was certain. How he had come to that point only Darius would ever know.
They moved past the window and arrived at the access shaft. When the doorway opened they stepped onto the black disc waiting for them and descended to the Gathering Hall level.
“Your meeting with Sierra,” Gavin said, changing the subject, “I take it that it went well?”
Matthew knew Gavin was just trying to cheer him up, but he was more than willing to shift the conversation to happier things. “Yes,” he said. “Speaking of things which are hard to believe, she is rather incredible, isn’t she?”
“Your relationship with her is a blessing,” Gavin said.
The black disc stopped and the door opened into a wide hallway. Several people were moving down the new passage. Their chatter filled the space with a buoyant, bubbling energy.
“Yes, I know,” Matthew said. “But I am a little nervous about what to do next.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep training you,” Gavin said in a spirited tone.
“I thought all you knew about was being a memorant and a scientist.”
Gavin regarded him warmly. “I didn’t tell you that I used the chronotrace to recover my own memories as well, did I?”
Matthew shook his head, surprised Gavin had failed to mention something so significant.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you before. But I knew how busy you were and I was waiting for the right time,” Gavin apologized. “One of the things I apparently learned during my time with the Welkin, though, may be of use to you in your present situation.”
“Yes, and what is that?”
A spontaneous grin danced across Gavin’s face. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who has won the heart of a woman,” he teased.
Matthew searched his friend’s eyes and instantly read what Gavin meant. “Senya,” he exclaimed. “You and Senya…Oh, that’s—that’s wonderful!” He wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulder, overjoyed that Gavin had given his heart to such a noble, caring woman.
And, so, stride for stride, they bounded down the hall. If they had been floating through the air on an axom field, Matthew could hardly have felt much lighter.
Gavin and Matthew arrived intentionally early for the awards banquet that was to take place that evening. In addition to the food and the speeches, soldiers who had served with distinction in the recent conflict were to be honored, as was Matthew for his role in the destruction of Deliverance and the Delegation. He had tried to argue against receiving any accolades on his part since it was Kelm and others who had coordinated the attack, but he was being given credit for freeing Kelm from prison and for making an ally out of Gavin. More importantly, following Farin’s line of thinking, the bestowing of honors upon him would serve to introduce, or rather re-introduce, him to the larger Remnant population. Commander Farin insisted that this would be an important first step in him taking a more prominent role within the fledgling community of survivors.
Matthew felt ill at ease about so much being thrust upon him so quickly, but he was determined to bear this burden as well as possible and hopefully learn as he went along.
The Gathering Hall where everything was to take place was easily the largest room on the ship next to the cargo bay. The ceilings rose to three times his height and the long, rectangular space could hold over five hundred people. Row upon row of floating benches lined either side of the room. A gap ran down the middle with space for five or six people to walk abreast.
Gavin and Matthew were not the only ones who had decided to arrive early. Close to fifty people were already gathered in the great hall, milling about amidst the rows of benches. Scattered laughter erupted here and there while some whispered solemnly amongst themselves and wore sad expressions. Only about a third of those gathered belonged to the Remnant faction. Amongst the Remnants the fashions were varied depending
on which branch a person belonged to. Those belonging to the Consortium wore mostly outfits consisting of long robes with exaggerated, three tiered shoulders. They wore flat, triangular hats as well. Their clothing came mostly in umber, burgundy, or light gray hues, though a few of the women wore purple or deep blue dresses. The Chanters wore austere robes, both the men and the women. The color range exhibited about as much variety as the plain clothing, running in whites, beiges, and the occasional tan. Members of the Thurim were the most elaborately dressed of all. The men wore multi-plated shirts with matching headgear and short skirts while the women wore mosaic-like dresses that shimmered and sparkled in the light.
A handful of Sentients were present as well. Though they wore no hats, and had rather drab blue and gray robes, their outfits were accented by multi-colored scarves worn about the neck reminiscent of the kaffs of the Waymen.
The rest of those present, close to half, were Werin. None of them wore the traditional clothing of the Welkin or Waymen. Instead they were clothed in one-piece jumpers of green fabric with stylized patterns suggesting swirling winds or fields of stars. They were simple designs, but caught the eye. Matthew found it encouraging that he could not tell based on their attire which were Welkin and which were Waymen.
Gavin and Matthew had been instructed to sit in the front and were politely making their way through the small crowd when they heard a loud, shrill voice pipe up from off to the side.
“Hayden! Hey, Hayden! Wait up!”
Matthew turned to see, coming in through one of the side entrances, a little Welkin girl with big eyes, padding across the floor between two older boys. It was Lila, along with her brothers Jarem and Halel. They were dressed in the same green outfits the other Werin were wearing. The boys had their trimmed down to their shoulders and the little girl’s hair was neatly braided down one side.
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