by M E Wise
The dank air of the Rootworks suppressed the much adored sun above. Gi’Ger and S’lei stood to my right and left. We waited for Q’ua Z to awaken, like he had waited for me many times in my youth to awake from experimentation or the repair of some injury I suffered. He did not fight his restraints but there was a new emptiness in his eyes. “The humans that took me and tortured me discovered a lobe in my head.” I pointed to my head. “A lobe I share with all Mor’h. Be it that mine is different; it is not that much different.”
S’lei was not one for the company of such events but remained by my side. My many sessions with Brigs affected her visits for a while. She understood but always remained the deeper root of my restraint. Gi’Ger however was not one to shy away from a good show. Q’ua Z felt for the scar on his head. “I have also taken liberty to see about making this a permanent change in your future incarnations.”
“I feel no connection.” Qz said almost remorsefully. S’lei closed her eyes and turned away.
“You are being punished for betraying your people. My people.” I stood unchallenged. “This is my gift to you. Life; like the life you gave to me. The life you would have taken to furnish pride, apathy or whatever selfish motive you had. I do not threaten Earth or Mor’h. My dual existence is not my choosing; neither is the path forward as a new lifeform. That is my soil to tread. My garden to tend!” I could feel my anger reaching a fever pitch.
“This is the future. A future you could have been a part of…” I couldn’t find any more words. S’lei’s hand gripped my shoulder. “Let us leave this matter for another day.” She was right. All of this was still too painful and new. “The Council awaits your address.”
We walked toward the darkly lit path ahead and up toward the gardens above. “They will dwindle now, those who would spoil the Garden; until it is forgotten.” She had a great point. With the two figure heads who kept the fire stoked either dead or link deprived, the Lo’Mor’h who made up the Keepers of the Garden will return to their usual cyclical lives. If only the Sol System had such a keystone solution. In a very real sense it did though. Such thoughts were coming too frequently now. I had begun dealing in absolutes without much thought. Suddenly I was a leader twofold.
“I do not seek approval.” The council chambers were completely packed with Lo’Mor’h and the Tah’l that represent them. Lo’Mor’h castes without Tah’l representation filled the chambers cascading chorus. The only absent members were in remote locations but attended on the many holos lighting the venue. S’lei was to my right and Gi’Ger to my left. I had their full attention. “The Mor’h are my people. Humanity is also my people; the Mor’h saw to this. I am unique but my roots are grounded here. I say again; I do not seek approval. The future is a trial I venture into with great thought and deliberation. And like any trial I will fall beneath its behest or stand to meet it.” The Mor’h gathered were not seeking my sharing but were not opposed; this first part of my speech must be in my tongue, in my words.
“I am a son of this future. I do not make decisions for all Mor’h and future Mor’h. This council will remain and your city, Bhur’Anto Sit; will forever be your sovereign grounds. But your children have come home. The humans that have been altered and branded Halfers, must have a place to live and adapt. This decision was taken from them at birth. We owe them that much!” I placed my hand on my chest and extended the other to the captivated gallery. “They live across the Sori sands and share the deepest of your societies wounds.”
Some wrestled in this statement. “Many of you would like to forget your seasons past. Many of you would alter everything until it was the reality you wish it to be. History speaks true of roots that hold firm in any soil. You held your soil, now you share your soil. The past cannot be the future, nor should it be.” I concentrated on the link panels and began to share my recent histories. Everything from the conflict at Green Acres to the most recent incident with Kog. “This is not the future for either species.” I pointed at a scene I was all too familiar with; No Man’s Land on the monitors. “This is no future for any race!”
“Weeded Sori!” Came a cry from the gallery. “Weeded Sori.” Answered another somber voice.
“I am the result of the Mor’h seeking life!” My voice raised and amplified across the domed space. “This search does not stop here! I am aptly named for this bitter charge and I have reluctantly fought against it. This is my mistake. I am no mistake! My people are no mistake and I do not see life as a mistake. Do not mistake my kindness for ignorance. Do not mistake my charity for pity! And do not mistake my actions for that of a fool.” I could feel myself spoiling the sharing. Storm clouds and the feel of cold space filled the link. I repressed it. My sincerity though could be felt lingering in the links filling the gallery.
“I do not stand here seeking approval. I stand here making it very clear that I exist and we all deserve to exist. All of us will fight for that existence. The smaller the conflict the better. Mor’h is no place for such conflict. I will not support it and I will not allow it.” More rustling occurred. “We are the Keepers of the Garden!” I felt many links stir in the collective hive of the many minds present. The Cathedraline seemed to amplify the effect of sharing. “We live and breathe and die in this Garden! We exist for the Garden and we exist within the Garden. Nothing in the Garden is more sacred than life.”
Many Tah’l began their strange sway. Lo’Mor’h followed. I linked with the massive group and could feel their will’s shaping the surroundings. I could feel the ground beneath my feet alive and the sun above gracing us all with strength and persistence. We were rooted as one people. My message was heard but more importantly it changed the season.
The Garden of Night held many memories for me. Dae and I were married here, Ben’s passing was mourned here. I am not alone in this; such ceremonies were becoming the norm here on Mor’h. People of different backgrounds and different beliefs were becoming more in tune with the ebb and flow of being on Mor’h. They were adapting to the effects it had on their lives as well as their existence. I will never be able to answer all of their questions nor do I think it is something I should try to. This is a luxury I can’t even assume for myself. The Humans and their Halfer brethren visit this site even in this hour. The Mor’h had given very few restrictions with the exceptions of their main buildings to tourists. With hundreds of refugees or colonists, depending on the discussion; Bhur’Anto Sit was feeling more and more alive each day.
A watch quietly as a firefly moth lingers close enough that I could read by its light. I look at the Q on the back of Q’ua Z’s order to me and find the reality stinging hard at my core. “Your words are now our words.” S’lei said softly, her fragrance camouflaged in the garden’s own perfume. “Would you consider company for a time?” She asked considerately, something the Mor’h have been adapting to. “Of course.” I replied earnestly.
“Have you ever wondered how many seasons this Garden has remained?” S’lei was strangely giving up information Mor’h rarely shared. The Cresche had many answers we discovered on our own but the actual truth of those discoveries were in short confirmation.
“I have actually.” I said turning to face her.
“I planted the first seeds here. Carried them from far away and laid them to rest in this soil.” She paused as the scale of that time sunk in to my reaction. “That’s incredible! Forgive me but that seems beyond my ability to grasp.” I stared hard as her thin lips separated into an odd smile.
“The Tah’l were the breeders. The Lo’Mor’h were the changers.” She continued. I knew some of this but not the order. “The Tah’l had distinct traits in our growth. We grew and lasted. With that knowledge we focused on how that was, and more importantly what it could mean.” Her hands escorted me to some loose soil and she swayed. Some fleshy smaller roots shifted from her bare feet and felt for the ground. S’lei was literally grounding herself in the garden!
“Rooting is our way. We become one with the soil and let it strip away the old and nurture the new. The process became like a thought. We learned to express it. A natural extension of the sharing.”
Her color fell flat and she wilted slightly. I felt a legitimate fear that she would fail to recover somehow and moved to her aid. She motioned my concern away. “It is a process!” She smiled with her eyes sunken and closed. “Slowly,” she filled out again and stood tall against the night sky. “We store it all. The earth, the sun and the knowledge in our minds. We tell the parts of ourselves to stay rooted, and after a long time of sharing and learning; generation to generation we became Tah’l. Mor’h Tah’l.” Her root systems returned into the pores they came from.
“And this is something you can do without end? Like immortality?” I was in awe.
“I have shown you one way. One way that is very hard to learn and is now a secret in the living Tah’l. When seeding was no longer viable, life and living was becoming scarce in the Garden. Those who could not learn the secret forged their future’s in scientific arts. They traded normalcy, redundancy and nature for the cycle of the Cradle.” She was radiant like the luminescent flowers of the Garden of Night.
“The Lo’Mor’h changed. They made clones because they failed the breeding process and this natural symbiosis.” I see the order now. She agreed with my statement.
“I no longer track the seasons of my first growth. I am sure somewhere there is record of it, the Cresche maybe; but I do not find need of it.” S’lei seemed distracted for a moment. I watched as she looked around the Garden and lingered there on probably the many histories she lived here. “You share this season.” Her language seemed out of place.
“I share your season? The time we are in now?” I finished her thought but didn’t link.
“The truth is greater.” S’lei took my hands and closed her eyes. I felt the link form sharp and clear. “Our futures will be other’s histories long before our seasons end.” She shared so much history! The Garden of Night was a meadow, she tended the soil. The Cathedraline had not been built yet and Bhur’Anto Sit was a bustling city with so many Mor’h. She progressed as their numbers shrank. Their fears were great and sorrowful. Her pain lingered each passing season, the Mor’h had all but given themselves to extinction.
The truth of it wasn’t the history but the present; the now and the future. She let the link slip. “I will live longer than any person I know now. I will bury them in the sands of time and live to mourn them for eternity!” Tears welled up in my eyes. I turned away from S’lei.
“You have a lifetime to know different Reign.” She tried to console me.
“All of this-it’s for nothing.” I felt weakened and distraught. “How many lifetimes can one love and lose everything? How many friends and family can one stand to watch age and die? Is this why you wait for fate to steal your numbers?” S’lei seemed disillusioned by my response. “Dae!” I said soundly. “What about Dae?”
I ran from the meeting toward the paths leading to our old domicile. I ran like the speed of it would change the distressing truth of my revelations tonight. I ran like something was waiting ahead of me and constantly out of pace. I ran with no escape. Why was this happening? Every victorious moment has led to one more division leading me away from what I want the most. The domicile where I carried Dae on our wedding night was ahead. I stumbled to slow my pace and the very silhouette I once called home was vacant against the river behind it. “Why didn’t we stay?” I cried out loudly.
“Why didn’t we stay here and never leave?” I hurled nearby stones at the building. “What’s forever alone?”
I felt the need to be selfish wash over me. I felt that I could never have what I want if I didn’t take it and keep it for my own. These weren’t traits of a leader; they were the remorseful desires of a desperate man who wanted to have a normal life. I needed a normal life! “I deserve a normal life!” I cried out at the domicile. The River Pathe flowed behind and on never noticing and never relenting.
Reign Eternal Chapter 7
Everlasting Solace
“This is my choice.” I said with a gentle kiss as Dae slept quietly. “I’ll be back soon.”
The sky above was filled with millions of ancient lights. The eternal flame burned beside the Cresche as I left Little Tengoku and I didn’t feel anything. My last words to Dae several nights ago keep creeping up in my mind. Especially at night. I was numb and traveling anywhere I could to find some place where I felt as alone as the concept of never expiring. No one knew this though. At least not that anyone let on. I was wandering from site to site around Mor’h finding myself in the isolation there, struggling against the mortal coil.
Some would see the idea of immortality, at least the possibility of it as a gift. Like many of the Mor’h traits I would assume an average Human being with a great imagination would toil over such an ability as a welcomed fantasy. At first you would remark on the guarantee of seeing multiple generations of your offspring live and grow without worry of leaving their lives other than by accident. But I see it differently. What if they didn’t receive the gift? What if like the Halfers, your children died before your eyes slowly and you could not stop it? Eventually you would have to admit that forever is a restless ideal, filled with an eternity of regrets.
“Dae.” Her name flowed from my lips with a degree of symbolism. What if you wanted one more day with someone you have loved an entire lifetime? What if they were at times the only thing you have lived for? And an eternity; no matter how broad the interpretation, the idea of it could be, seemed like a death sentence of a different kind. Sure, a life so long could see many loves and many futures that we could possibly find a greater truth in, a more profound union even. But what if none held the same romanticism? The same newness? No one is the same.
There was and has been but one Dae; as opposed to there is one Dae, may seem like a semantic perspective but it is true in the sense of time. If she died and I remained, what would fill the void left behind? When Ben died I could barely understand the concept of a true end. The Mor’h were a constant then at my twenty-five years in existence. I was completely oblivious to immortality and the true nature of life cycles. Mortality, death and dying, having a near perfect recall of my mother dying at birth tainted any beauty it held. I could even say that my life was sustained in a vacuum of careful control and manipulation to preserve my ignorance, to protect me from the truth. Knowing all of this now seems like such a waste.
Here on an island in the middle of Mor’h’s largest body of water, I look above and feel small. I need to feel small. In my hand I hold Q’ua Z’s trail of thoughts; part diary and part manifesto. S’lei had given me the package before I gave my last speech at the Cathedraline. The package was a small black box with the red Q embossed on it. Inside were tablets and some loose forms. The fire I made reflected on the surface of the opal craft I had used for my voyage and cast strange shadow and light play on everything around me. It felt like a mirage in my state of mind. This island had a small imprint as far as life. There wasn’t enough vegetation or sizeable prey to sustain anything that would distract me and the digesting of these thoughts and my reactions to these ideas.
I looked to the past once again for some temporary evacuation of this future. Q’ua Z’s tablets weren’t numbered in any order so I picked one at random and powered it up. This probably wasn’t a good idea if I had thought more on it; given that the last tablet I received from Qz nearly knocked me unconscious. Luckily this one did not have a sentinel tone to catch me off guard. Surprisingly, the device had little in the way of bulk files. Mostly random observations and reports. I moved onto the next tablet, hopefully something would provide a distraction from musings on never dying of an old age.
“The Child of the Stars.” I read aloud. This looked promising with telling links and little text.
Images of myself as an infant filled the link. A very strong feeling of intrigue spoiled the sharing. Q’ua
Z was completely obsessed with my care. Any Lo’Mor’h were carefully selected and vetted for caste necessity in my early rearing. They focused heavily on secrecy. They never hesitated about anything they did. I was a new discovery in an old plan. None of this was too revealing. However, secrecy was once something I thought the Mor’h incapable of, that and so much more.
I moved forward in the tablets storage. I couldn’t absorb the information like in a normal link but I still found sensations and when recorded experiences were on the screen I could feel similar sharing in the telling. Q’ua Z was rarely alone in his study and care of me. But I do not remember having known any of the surrounding Mor’h when they were there, at least in the early stages. Every once in a while I got a strange shiver from uncontrolled linking from myself as an infant. The experience was something I have never had. Sharing minds with myself being one unique mind is otherworldly.
“You are different Reign. You are unique.” Q’ua Z said out loud. His mechanical and untrained speech was strange but familiar.
“I am?” I said in a very young voice. I played with anything I could reach.
The room was dark and damp. Q’ua Z stood empty and still, more so than he had before or will. My younger self began to cry loudly and moved back toward a wall. Something had scared me. I could feel the fear in the link within the tablet. Qz had been discovered! I wasn’t supposed to be there! A Tah’l moved into view of the monitor.
