Remnant

by Dwayne A Thomason

“But I had to,” came a counter argument. The former voice was older with a touch of gravel. The latter was young, smooth, with a hint of pubescent cracking. Remnant recognized the voices as belonging to Dothin and Nix Lanseidis, though Dothin called him Niko. If Niko, or Nix was Dothin’s son he’d gotten all his looks from his mother, but it was hard to see the two men as anything but father and son.

  “I know,” Dothin said. “And you were brave and you...” there was a pause laden with pain Remnant could feel though not understand. “You probably saved Ashla’s life. But don’t pull that with me again, young man. You hear me?”

  Nix didn’t respond. The two men passed by the doorway to the galley. Nix looked at Remnant, his eyes curious, nervous. Dothin didn’t seem to notice. They continued away, talking. “Gan told me Nix was the first friend he met at Lodebar,” she said. “And that the young man had hidden the artifact while Gan searched for news about me. I wonder if Nix knows how much Gan respects him.

  “If,” said the man on the screen, pulling Remnant’s attention again, “the former governor was indeed guilty of the Alliance’s claims, they should have brought the evidence to the Assembly and let us deal with the problem. Instead they decided to punish our former governor, occupy our sovereign system and threaten our citizens with war and bloodshed. This shall not stand.”

  “Come on,” a girl cooed, laughter in her voice. “Dr. Jens says you need to come in for regular check-ups.” Ashla Vares, daughter of the recently deposed and apparently dead sixth governor.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Cel Numbar said. The exhaustion in her voice mimicked Remnant’s feeling. “I think you enjoy these check-ups more than even the doctor does. Have you ever seen someone enjoy sticking a needle in someone like she does?”

  “It’s only to—” Ashla paused and Remnant could feel tears fighting to emerge. When Ashla continued, her voice was unsteady. “It’s only to make sure you’re healing okay. I want you to be okay.”

  “I know,” Cel said. “I know.”

  The girls stopped by the door and Ashla stepped in, looking at the screen. Cel, behind her, wore a worried expression. “That’s him,” Ashla said. “That’s the new governor.”

  “Did you know him?” Remnant asked.

  Ashla looked at her with surprise almost as if noticing her there for the first time. She looked back at the screen and shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “Father talked about him sometimes though, said that even though he rarely agreed with him he could only respect his integrity and honesty. I wonder what he’ll change that my father set into motion. I wonder what my father stood against that he will defend.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Remnant said.

  Ashla shook her head again. She turned, hiding her face from Remnant by doing so, and walked back out. Cel gave Remnant an apologetic expression. Remnant smiled and shook her head. The girls moved out of sight.

  Soma had been right. The shot he gave her had given her the strength to function while they tried to escape the palace’s underground labyrinth, but when it wore off, it hit Remnant hard. She didn’t remember leaving the tunnels. The last thing she remembered was Gan. Gan had come back for her and so the half-sleep half-unconscious dreams of running through miles of shadowy tunnels while nameless, shapeless creatures chased her had no hold over her.

  She had woken up on the Jessamine. They could have brought her to any number of temporary infirmaries about the palace except that Gan had insisted the Jessamine’s medic, Dr. Jens, treat her. Anyone who had a say in the discussion agreed because she was something of a VIP on the ship and a contentious subject elsewhere.

  The following days were full of bad dreams, sickness and recovery. Gan was there with her every second he could be and, when he wasn’t, Soma was. They were like her honor guard and because they were there when she woke the nightmares couldn’t follow her in the waking world.

  “I really hope there’s no bad feelings, Cross,” a man said, his voice carrying from one of the hallways.

  “You’re a good man, Bix,” Soma said back. “And you were just following orders.”

  “Yeah, but the orders were wrong and I—”

  The two men passed across the open doorway. Walking beside Soma was a man in an MP’s uniform, devoid of any weapons or armor. When he happened to turn and face Remnant he froze, and his face went white.

  Soma took an extra step, not noticing his companion’s demeanor, then stopped and looked.

  “Oh,” he said, clearing his throat. “Remnant, this is Bixley. He was the guard who let me in to talk to you.”

  Remnant smiled. Soma didn’t say he was one of the men who pushed buttons to make her life a waking nightmare for two weeks.

  “Hello, Bixley,” she said. “Thank you for your kindness. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

  Bixley blinked. “Nice to meet you, miss,” he said. His voice trembled. “Sorry about, well, sorry about everything.”

  “Forgiven,” Remnant said, and she determined that it would be.

  Bixley nodded and rushed out of view of the doorway. Soma smiled and shrugged, and then walked out of view himself.

  “Furthermore,” the man on the screen said, “I must warn the CAS that, due to the conduct of their military leadership I and the Antarii Assembly are in talks to consider leaving the Alliance.” Whatever crowd sitting out of view of the cameras gasped and murmured at this revelation. “I would admonish the members of the Alliance’s supreme council to consider carefully how they move forward in the coming months, and to rein in the arrogant dogs who think they can impose their will on sovereign systems. I hope they would remember that the Alliance was formed to serve her member systems, not the other way around!”

  When she was well enough to walk for more than a few steps without gasping for breath, Remnant had wanted to go out to the other infirmaries. She wanted to pray over the wounded and see them healed, wanted to be a vessel for the Master’s power like she had been before. Her friends and perhaps the Master’s wisdom forbade her.

  With hundreds of cameras throughout the palace and town, sending constant newsfeeds outward, Remnant would be a destabilizing factor in Antarus’ attempts to re-establish sovereignty. The system had a real chance of reaching a peaceful settlement with the Alliance but if they seemed to favor Remnant it would complicate matters. Furthermore, it wouldn’t do for people to see her sick and winded after a short walk. People needed to see her strong.

  Remnant had disagreed with that last point. She didn’t care if people saw her week. She was week. It was the Master who was strong, and he had given her the strength to withstand her greatest tribulation yet.

  Nevertheless, Remnant stayed on the ship and prayed for the wounded and injured privately instead. Surprisingly enough, though she shouldn’t have been surprised, Soma brought back reports that some of the most grievously wounded had made miraculous turnarounds. He said that for as bloody a conflict the battle for the palace was, it might have a remarkably low body count when all was said and done.

  “If I told them once, I told them a thousand sawking times,” came a male voice through the corridor outside. “The kanks stay off my ship. I helped win them this sawking palace back and if they don’t want me to drop a rock on it they’ll keep those jagbroods off my—”

  Captain Kol passed by the open doorway. He and the young man that always followed him around. Vance. His name was Vance. Vance looked at the open door, through it, then at Remnant. As if to change the subject he pointed at her and said, “Okay, Cap, now stop swearing in front of the miracle lady.”

  The Captain didn’t even look at her.

  “This is my sawking ship,” he said. “And if I want to swear and call Jin in it until the Benefactors piss then I will.”

  They passed by. Remnant looked back at the viewscreen.

  “This is my ship,” Captain Kol said again, startling Remnant. He had come back and was now peeking his head through the doorway with his hand
s grasping the wall.

  Remnant smiled but didn’t let it go from friendliness to the amusement she felt.

  “Of course it is, Captain,” she said. “And thank you so much for offering me a ride off of Eltar.”

  Captain Kol gave a sharp nod and then disappeared again.

  Remnant looked at the scrolling text on the screen. As it flowed across she saw that the Jessamine was replacing some of the words with ones legible to a modern reader. She couldn’t wait for it to finish. She hungered to send it out, to share this incredible treasure with the people of the galaxy more than she hungered for the food on the table.

  When she didn’t pray she did this. She watched the words scroll by and looked for passages to reveal themselves to her. Her stomach growled. It was just beginning to do that again. Dr. Jens explained that after several days of hunger, the stomach stopped complaining. And even though the growling is uncomfortable, it’s safe. When it stops growling, you’re in trouble.

  Remnant turned to the food in the dish and picked at it with her fork. Her stomach growled, even her mouth salivated for the food, but her body didn’t want to go through the motions of putting it in and chewing it.

  “Dr. Jens says you need to eat,” Gan said, surprising her. He would be the only person she didn’t hear coming. “You need food to get your strength up.”

  Remnant smiled. She almost cried at the sight of her tall, black-clad protector, but she held the tears back.

  “Hi,” she said. And then tentatively, “Are you busy?”

  Gan smiled back. He stepped into the galley and sat down next to her.

  “I just came from the bridge,” he said. “They’re doing final checks and will be taking off in about ten minutes.”

  Remnant nodded. “Everyone’s coming? Cel? Soma?”

  Gan nodded. “All for differing reasons, but yes. They’re all coming.”

  “Good.” Remnant scooped up a forkful of rice and beans and ate it. It would have been good if it were hot. Now it was just passable. Once she climbed the mountain of taking a single bite she found that more bites were easy, and she started eating faster.

  “I like that Soma,” Gan said. “He’s a good man.”

  “He is,” Remnant said between bites. “Did he tell you he’s the one who captured me.”

  “I’ll kill him where he stands.”

  Remnant laughed. It felt so good to laugh. It felt good to feel good, to not be sick and starving and trapped. Gan laughed with her.

  “Of course,” she said. “He is also the one who set me free.”

  “Funny how life works out that way sometimes.”

  Remnant took another bite, then shook her head. Gan gave her a questioning look.

  “Not life,” she said, “the Master. He has orchestrated this. His will only needed the artifact and a witness to begin, but the message is not intended to stay with us alone. It’s intended to grow, to spread, so that every living being in this galaxy has a chance to hear it. And these people, unlikely as they may be, were chosen, just as you and I were chosen.”

  Gan smiled but shook his head. “You were chosen,” he said, “but me? I don’t think—”

  “How many stories did you fall, back in Sizon?” Remnant asked.

  Gan’s eyes went blank. For a moment he stopped seeing her, the galley, and saw something else. “Seventeen,” he said, dreamily.

  Remnant nodded. “Gan, when I pulled you out of that scrap pile you weren’t injured. You were dead.”

  Gan nodded, not just ascent. He knew.

  “Whatever fate there is beyond this life for unrepentant murderers, the Master saved you from it and chose you to be my companion.”

  Gan nodded.

  “You’re right,” he said. “And recently, I’ve chosen him as well.”

  Remnant put a hand on Gan’s. The Shaumri smartskin felt almost like tiny fish scales to the touch.

  “I’m glad.”

  Gan nodded. He squeezed her hand and then released and stood. “I need to make sure we’re all ready to go.”

  Remnant let him go, choosing not to call him out on the lie. Remnant had long ago learned that there were some matters of faith Gan had to deal with alone.

  “Oh,” Gan said, when he reached the door. “Did you hear about that defense minister?”

  Remnant nodded and frowned. “The one who supposedly orchestrated the attack on the Elpizio, my capture, the attack on the palace and everything else and when they were seconds from capturing him he was hiding under his desk claiming he was a low-level man in the MOD who doesn’t remember doing any of that?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s troubling. And he last remembered being on Ios, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Gan said. “The Bastion. Capital city of the Scions.”

  “Their evil dominion is more powerful than I would have thought.”

  “More prevalent too,” Gan said. “They’ve done it to the girl too. Ashla. By use of a powerful command word.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Remnant said.

  “Okay,” Gan said. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  She finished the food, even scraping the last of the sauce. Then she got up and washed her dish and her fork and then put them away. When she turned she could read the text on the screen. She almost forgot that one.

  “Wait,” she said. “Wait.” She stepped over to her tablet and found the passage, then flipped to it in the original artifact. “This one,” she said, pointing. “This one. It’s important. ‘But the Master sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance.’”

  That passage was her name and her purpose. She knew that passage had been addressed to a certain group of people who lived at a certain time and experienced certain circumstances. But now, its meaning grew, expanded to reaches and numbers greater than the original writer would have imagined possible. ‘You’ might have once meant a family. It might have once meant a nation. But now ‘you’ stretched to fill every living being in the galaxy. A great darkness was coming of which the Scions and their domineering witchcraft were merely a vanguard. But with it, and against it, there also was coming a great deliverance and a remnant.

  END OF REMMANT:

  BENEFACTORS LEGACY BOOK ONE