Nomad: Freedom Is Never Free

by Todd Brill

  Meanwhile, the largest battle the capital had ever seen raged in the courtyard of the Leader’s compound. Bodies were strewn about the broken pavement and pillars like discarded dolls. Blood trickled into marble pools staining the rain-swelled waters a grisly salmon color.

  In a distant part of Nomad’s mind, he could hear the screams of the dying and fierce determination of the living soldiers in the courtyard fighting for their lives and beliefs. He was resolved to protect innocent lives from any harm. This wouldn’t be like the prison assault.

  His momentary loss of focus caused the empty sky to diminish somewhat. Nomad snapped his attention back to the sky and the fight with Nevenember. He wondered if Nevenember could sense his power just as he sensed his enemy’s.

  He was provided an answer to his question moments later when the full weight of Nevenember’s considerable power dropped on him like a snake from a tree, pouncing on its prey.

  The air around Nomad suddenly became harder to breathe. His attention wavered as he struggled to draw breath, each moment asphyxiating a little more. Nomad knew what this was. He had used the same technique when they escaped the camp to deadly effect. But how could he now escape the same fate as Harvith?

  Nomad called out to the empty sky for help. The empty sky intervened and prevented the air from escaping around Nomad’s head and shoulders. He could see the shimmering field where the power of air and sky met around him, forming tiny, blue-white shimmering ice crystals. The air was frigid, but at least he could breathe again.

  Then Nomad felt the pressure release as Nevenember turned his focus to the courtyard below. Nomad returned to his focus on empty sky, asking it to expand and push back the black sky. Since Nevenember had focused on something else, the black sky relented somewhat, and the hole in the sky opened again displaying the twinkling diamonds of distant stars.

  Nevenember called down lightning from the remaining black sky with devastating effect. The blast lit up the entire compound for a split-split second. Screams and bodies flew. Some of the bodies were on fire. The rebels in the courtyard scattered.

  Nomad noticed something he would remember the remainder of his days: several rebel soldiers were helping their fallen friends by dragging them to cover even while they were under fire from the Leader’s troops. That kind of bravery and sacrifice touched and warmed Nomad’s heart. He must protect these people. There was something noble and good going on here, despite the carnage and hatred.

  He also noticed the same was happening on the Leader’s side. His troops were extinguishing the flames that had been sparked on their comrades struck by the lightning blast and dragging them to safety while under fire from the rebels. There were good, honorable folks on both sides. The real enemy was Nevenember, not these poor men and women.

  Nomad turned his attention to the sky again. He took a deep breath and turned his will to widening the patch of empty sky and pushing back the darkness. The hole of empty sky broadened quickly and powerfully, sweeping the black cloud away in a transparent whorl.

  Nomad could see Nevenember look on in rage as the base of his power, the black sky, diminished and faded. Nevenember pounded his fist on the balustrade and turned to go inside. Nomad felt his presence leave, and the black sky cleared away like it had never been there.

  He looked down into the courtyard as the last of the rain fell, creating rivulets of mud and debris in the shattered courtyard. The rebels quickly took the front and side entrances within a few moments. Numerous guards surrendered and were disarmed and sent to the apartments under guard. They would be dealt with after this was over.

  28

  Nomad stepped over the rubble littering the entrance to Nevenember’s palace. The sounds of battle echoed through the huge double doors and down the stone hallway leading further into the complex.

  The rebels were still mopping up the remains of the Leader’s resistance in the courtyard and surrounding areas and consolidating their positions. Overwinter had taken position just inside the front doors of the compound in a servant’s area. Nomad carefully stepped over bodies and peach-colored crushed stone to reach Overwinter.

  “Did anyone find him?” said Nomad.

  “They have him and the last of his guard holed up in a safe room upstairs,” replied Overwinter, furiously punching orders into his wrist computer.

  “I have to talk to him.” Overwinter stopped and looked up at him.

  “Talk to him? About what?” he said.

  “He has the power,” replied Nomad, “He’s the first one I’ve encountered since Jorune. I have to talk to him. Find out what he knows. Find out who his mentor was. If someone trained him to use the power in such a way, they might be a very dangerous person. Nobody should use the power like that — to kill people like that. It isn’t right.”

  Overwinter walked over the mess of wires and rubble on the floor to stand near Nomad.

  “I understand this means a lot to you,” said Overwinter, “but we need to keep Nevenember alive. He needs to stand trial for his crimes, Nomad. The people need to see that justice comes to everyone, no matter how powerful or rich they are.”

  “I’m… I’m not gonna kill him, Overwinter!” yelled Nomad before realizing he was yelling. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “No need, friend. Lack of sleep and hard fighting makes us all a little on edge,” said Overwinter. “I’m just telling you what we need. I trust you to make the right decision.” With that, Overwinter spun around and began issuing orders to the troops again.

  Dawn would be coming soon. Nomad could feel the change in the air. The city would be awakening to a new day and a new government. It was time to confront Nevenember and find out what he knew. Nomad took a long drink of his lukewarm canteen, then spilled some water into his hand and wiped some of the grime off his face.

  The lower level of the compound had been pounded into near collapse. Nevenember had removed tapestries and other artwork from the lower level and secured them in his vaults. Nomad could see the marks on the walls from where the art had hung.

  Knocked-over pedestals of stone and metal left testament to the missing pieces once adorning them. Nevenember was a true tyrant, thought Nomad. His people lived in cramped, dilapidated apartments that barely had electricity and running water, but here he had amassed a fortune of fine art and surrounded himself with immense opulence.

  Now, the once pristine peach-colored stone walls were chipped and scarred with the signs of a fierce battle. The fine carpets were stained with bodily fluids and burns. The exquisite, hand-painted tiles in the hallway leading to the enormous curving stairs were broken and stained with boot prints and mud, the symbols of Nevenember’s reign painted on their surface were smeared and defaced making Nomad think they looked like leering demons or imps dancing in blood on a bone background.

  Was Nevenember evil or just power-mad? Had he once been a good man who just let things get out of control? Nomad believed everyone started life as a good person. Nobody was born evil. Perhaps Nevenember could be reasoned with. Perhaps this could end peacefully. But Nomad was prepared for the worst.

  He knew on Earth despotic leaders rarely gave up without a fight to the death. Relinquishing absolute power was not done easily. Especially when it was torn from you by the people who were supposed to serve you using force and blood and death.

  Nomad approached the line of rebels who had hunkered down behind cover in the upstairs hallway leading to Nevenember’s chambers.

  “He still in there?” Nomad asked one of the rebels.

  “Yes. They’ve barricaded themselves in there and it’ll be difficult to get them out,” replied the octopod shifting the weight of his rifle in his prehensile tentacles.

  “You folks have done well. I need to talk to him, and I have orders from Overwinter,” said Nomad. The octopod’s eyes darted from the chamber door back to Nomad twice.

  “They’ll probably just open fire on you,” he said. “We can’t really protect you if you approach the door alone
.”

  “I understand. Keep back until this is over,” said Nomad.

  “Nomad!” yelled a familiar voice from behind him. It was Danik. She trotted over to him, sidestepping an overturned desk and chair lying haphazardly on the floor.

  “Don’t go in there!” she cried. “Are you crazy? He’ll kill you the moment you open that door!”

  “I don’t think he will,” said Nomad. “He wants to talk to me as much as I want to talk to him.”

  “How can you possibly know that?” she said, her jaw clenched, her brow furrowed.

  “I listened,” said Nomad in a calm voice. “He’s angry and frustrated, but he’s also scared, Danik. Despite everything he’s done, he’s still a human being. I mean… he’s not human like me, but he’s still… a person.”

  “An evil, twisted person who enjoys subjugating and killing his own people,” she replied, “He’s evil, Nomad. He won’t hesitate to kill you if you give him a chance.”

  “Then I won’t give him a chance. He needs to answer for his actions, but I’d prefer not to have any more killing today. Enough people have died already.”

  Danik looked into Nomad’s eyes and saw that he wasn’t going to change his mind. She sighed and looked down at the ground.

  “I can see I won’t change your mind,” she said, “but…” she looked around at the rebel soldiers around them. “Please come back to me alive,” she whispered as she embraced him. “Please?”

  Nomad hugged her warmly. “I will, baby. I will,” he said, stroking her dark hair she had pulled back into a long braid. He pulled away and gave her a kiss.

  “Wish me luck,” said Nomad as he stepped past the rebel barricade.

  The hallway had been the scene of a fierce fight. Bodies still lay on the floor and blood was everywhere: the floor, the walls, the balustrades overlooking the lower level.

  Nomad took a deep breath and sighed. At one time in his life, a scene of carnage like this would have shocked him, shook him to the core of his being. After what he’d been through since he arrived on this world, the gore in the hallway before the Leader’s private chambers didn’t do anything to him except firm his resolve. The killing must end. These people must be free. Now.

  Nomad listened and could feel the murmurs and breathing of Nevenember and his men holed up in the chamber. There were about a dozen of them, and they were all scared. I would be scared too, he thought as stepped to the side of the double door entrance to the chamber.

  “I wouldn’t come in here if I were you,” said a voice like pouring gravel from inside the room. It was Nevenember.

  “I just want to talk,” said Nomad in reply, evoking the dark sea to calm his skittering nerves.

  “I’m quite sure,” said Nevenember. “Let’s talk about how you’re going to leave my estate and take this rabble with you before my reinforcements get here.”

  “You know that isn’t going to happen,” replied Nomad. There was a pause. What was Nevenember doing in there?

  “I am the lawfully elected Leader of my people,” said Nevenember’s voice from behind the doors. His voice was closer now. He was approaching the doorway. “I will not give up that duty to a bunch of… rebellious malcontents.”

  “Nevenember, it’s you that’s turned them into malcontents,” said Nomad, choosing his words carefully. He could sense Nevenember was on the edge of a precipice and could be easily pushed into a chasm. “Your policies, greed, and lack of empathy has caused this. All those people who’ve fought for you, and those fighting against you, died because of your actions. You know this is true.”

  “My brave soldiers and guards died doing their duty protecting their Leader,” said Nevenember, his voice very close to the door now. Nomad could feel the power emanating from him through the peach walls and ornately carved wooden door. For the first time, he noticed the carvings on the outside of the doors depicted the Hand trees. The one on the left was in bloom, the one to the right was shedding its leaves.

  Spring and fall. The cycle of nature. Rebirth and death. It was somehow appropriate to the situation. Tendrils of wispy black ether seeped through the cracks of the large doors and were met by the electric white clouds emanating from Nomad.

  “Now you come here with your traitorous rebels to kill me and everything we stand for as a people!” said Nevenember, hissing through the cracks of the large doors.

  “There are cycles to life,” said Nomad. “When old ideas and people are replaced by new ideas and people. This isn’t any different. Your time has come. The idea of a Leader is no longer required. Your people want to be free. They need to be free to live their lives however they see fit.” Nevenember laughed sarcastically from behind the door.

  “Foolish talk,” replied Nevenember. “Foolish talk by naïve people. There are leaders and followers in life. Those given the gift of leadership will always rise to assume the role of Leader. The rest will follow or be removed. This is how the world works. This is nature. Most of these people would be lost if they didn’t have a Leader to tell them what they needed to do. And who would provide them with housing? With electricity and water? Who would build roads for them if they were all free, running around like a bunch of wild animals, directionless? Nonsense!”

  “It’s interesting that you think so little of your own people,” said Nomad. “But look at what they’ve accomplished without you: they have brought your reign of terror and tyranny to an end despite overwhelming odds. They chose to follow a different path. And it’s a path that might have led to their destruction and death, but they chose it anyway. Why do you think that is, Nevenember?”

  “Because they’re fools,” he replied. “Fools led by opportunistic carrion-eaters who want to rule as Leader once I’m dead and gone.”

  “I can’t speak for everyone,” said Nomad, “but none of the people I’ve spoken with have ever even hinted that they want your position or power.”

  “Lies,” scoffed Nevenember. “You’ll never convince me. Power is like a magnet: it attracts people who desire it and power attracts many people.”

  “Usually the wrong kind of people, unfortunately. I’ll give you that,” said Nomad. “That’s why we need to be on guard against those kinds of people. Power corrupts even well-meaning people. There needs to be checks and balances against anyone having too much power. Otherwise, it always leads to abuse, not leadership. Not vision, but tyranny.”

  “I was destined to be Leader,” said Nevenember. “The seers foretold of my reign and power and that I would change our world forever.”

  “I was once told the same thing,” said Nomad. “They call me the Legend. It was foretold I would free these people and here I am. But I don’t buy into fortune tellers and mystics. Sometimes they’re right, but more often they’re wrong in my experience. On my world, I was once told I would marry a princess and live happily ever after. That never happened. But I paid twenty bucks and left smiling, thinking of the future and wondering who my princess would be. I never married anyone, and I was out my twenty bucks.”

  “Be that as it may,” said Nevenember, “I am the Leader. I was elected by the people. I was chosen.”

  “Who did you run against in the election?” said Nomad.

  “No one,” scoffed Nevenember. “That’s not how elections work on our world, outsider. A Leader is ordained by the Council and the people vote whether to accept the new Leader.”

  “So they really didn’t have a choice did they?” said Nomad.

  “Absolutely they did!” yelled Nevenember. “You’re not from this world, so you just don’t understand our ways.”

  “I may be from another world,” said Nomad, “but I’ve seen this kind of thing before in our history. Giving people the illusion of choice is not the same as actual choice. On our world, we had choices once. Or at least we thought we did. Our Leader was elected from a pool of pre-selected people nominated by special councils, much the same as here. However, it turned out these people were all political insiders who paid money
and lied to get votes. It also turned out they all represented the same kind of leadership.

  “Eventually, they even swept away the rules about councils and elections altogether since they had convinced most people they were unneeded. Then they changed the rules limiting how many times a Leader could be re-elected to that office. Now, they don’t even pretend. The President rules and everyone does what they say or they suffer for it. Much like how it is here.

  “But times change. People learn and adapt and discover themselves through hardship. Someday, my world might fight against their Leader and free themselves. Today, this world is fighting back, and I’m going to help them because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Fool! You want to be the Leader yourself! Your powers have helped you so far, but dare you face me yourself and prove your right to my power, my station?” yelled Nevenember.

  “I was hoping to discuss a peaceful option with you. Let’s stop the killing and discuss this like rational, honest people,” replied Nomad.

  “Bah! You think for a moment the rebels will let me live if I surrender? You’re a bigger fool than I thought if you think I’ll fall for that,” replied Nevenember. Nomad sighed.

  Suddenly, the huge wooden doors burst open with a deafening boom, flying down the hallway in shatters. The pieces of the door cut through several rebels who were not completely behind cover, severing arms and decapitating one. Behind the door, suffused in a black, cloudy nimbus was Nevenember, his eyes glowing with an unnatural umber.

  “Fools!” he yelled. “You hope to trick me into surrender? To abandon all I’ve worked for? To abandon those who elected me as their supreme Leader? Never!”

  29

  Nomad’s friends became like shadows against the wall of a cave as if they weren’t real, but could still be seen and sensed. Their motion was slowed, like someone was playing with the video scrubber on an editing console.