Nomad: Freedom Is Never Free

by Todd Brill

  Nomad could see the tendrils of energy reaching, grasping for him. He could sense their malevolent intent. Their energy was pure hatred and their purpose was clear. Nevenember intended to kill him.

  The alien world around him slowed further, the movements of the battle lost in time. Explosions mushroomed out like strange, bulbous, flowering fungus. Blood slowly sprayed from wounds not yet consciously recognized by the body that had received them. Projectiles were gliding through the air like small, aerodynamic boats sailing toward doom.

  Nomad took notice of all these things as time slowed for everyone but him and Nevenember. They were destined to complete their battle apart from the rest of these people. Separate from his friends and comrades fighting and dying on the rubble of the past.

  Nomad looked at Nevenember and listened. He could feel the anger, the frustration, and the desperation in his enemy. The wild emotions fed the snake-like clouds that, even now, slithered their way through the air like black, eviscerating corkscrews.

  Oddly, Nomad felt at peace. He was glad this conflict was almost over. Too many people had died and suffered because of this. But how many more would die and suffer because of this man if Nomad had done nothing? If he had stood by and did what he was told, cowed by the Leader’s power? But Nomad couldn’t think about that right now. There was too much at stake in these final decisive moments.

  Freedom. All beings are born free. Only by the acts of devious and power-hungry men like Nevenember are beings subjugated and denied their freedom. And without freedom, no conscious being can reach its full potential. Nomad would have freedom. He would fight to protect his freedom and wouldn’t let anyone else subjugate him as they had in the past. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t just. It wasn’t natural.

  Nomad stretched out with his will, calling on the peace inside him and his determination to be free. He would use these things to fight against the fierce power and malevolent force of Nevenember — and win. Or die trying.

  Nomad extended his hands toward Nevenember and watched the expression on his face, twisted with fury and death. Nomad smiled. He knew whatever the outcome, the seeds of freedom had been planted and could only grow from this point in time onward.

  Tendrils of green resembling vigorous vines quickly arced through the air toward Nevenember, seeking him out. The vines met Nevenember’s black smoke tentacles in mid-air, entwining around them first clockwise, then anti-clockwise. Like an invasive weed, they seeped through every crack, every crevice of his attack, penetrating every weakness until they broke free of the darkness and swallowed it whole.

  Even Nevenember did what he did in his own perverse way to be free. He believed freedom meant being free to do anything he desired, be it good or ill, even if it meant others must be used like tools and their will dominated by him for his purposes.

  The problem was this was not really freedom. Real freedom is not absolute or dominating. Not when there are other conscious beings in the universe who have the right to be free too. Nomad felt true freedom must be more like trees in a forest: each tree does what it must to survive and thrive, short of openly attacking other trees or attempting to deprive them of the same right to live. We compete but coexist as peacefully as we can, knowing and understanding that others are just like us and desire the same things we do: survival and peace and freedom.

  Problems arise when individuals only want these things for themselves without realizing this can only happen if these things exist for everyone. Nevenember desired his own survival and personal freedom, but disdained peace. He subjugated and dominated others by taking away their freedom, and in some cases, even killing others or removing their ability to survive.

  And like all unnatural things, they come to an end violently. Nomad would see to it. Like plucking weeds from a beautiful garden.

  Nomad’s green vines superseded Nevenember’s black tentacles and thrust into Nevenember’s body, penetrating his arms, legs, chest, and face. They pulsed and tightened. Nevenember had a surprised look on his face, but was unable to move. The black tentacles slowly dissipated into falling grains of dark sand as Nevenember lost consciousness.

  Nomad retracted his will from the vines and they fell away from Nevenember’s limp, bloody body as it collapsed to the ground in a heap. Nomad took a deep breath.

  A short moment passed and Nomad saw and felt the living energy of Nevenember escape his body and blow outward like a gas flame suddenly extinguished. Nomad could feel the pressure of it, the rage of Nevenember’s essence pass through him like a ghost. Nomad released his breath and time resumed its normal, inexorable course.

  The fighting had stopped when the loyalists realized their Leader was now dead. They dropped their weapons and were taken as prisoners in defeat.

  Everyone had witnessed the epic battle between Nomad and Nevenember. To them, it happened in an instant. To Nomad, the epic battle would always feel as though it had taken many minutes. But everyone knew who had defeated the Leader and fulfilled the prophecy of the Legend.

  As the last remaining enemy troops were rounded up and weapons were secured, a few of the friendly troops looked up toward where Nomad stood and began to chant: “No-mad! No-mad! No-mad!”

  The group of chanters grew and grew until the entire city was filled with his name and the people of this world felt hope for the first time in a long time. The hope of peace and freedom.

  30

  “This is just the beginning,” said Nomad to Overwinter. He had come to congratulate Nomad on the victory, and he was smiling broadly. Until Nomad began to speak.

  “What do you mean the beginning?” said Overwinter, his smile melting away. He wiped some sweat from his lavender forehead.

  “For me, I meant,” said Nomad. “It’s the beginning for me. There are a lot of people living their lives in fear and without freedom throughout the universe. I mean to set them free.”

  “All of them?” said Overwinter incredulously.

  “If I can, that would be ideal,” replied Nomad solemnly. “I’ve wanted to be free my whole life; I just never realized it until now. I’m tired of powerful people telling me what to do, how to do it, where to do it. They have no right. They have no right.” Nomad emphasized his last sentence by gazing into Overwinter’s eyes.

  “I see,” said Overwinter, stepping back slightly. “But these people you’ve just freed are used to having Leaders. They want you to tell them what to do and how to do it. They need guidance and wisdom, Nomad. And they’re looking to you to provide it. Can’t you hear that? They’re chanting your name, my friend! They look up to you!”

  “I know. But they are mistaken. They don’t know how to be free because they’ve been slaves for too long,” said Nomad sighing. “I’m sure it will be difficult for them at first. They will have to learn what it means to be truly free.”

  Nomad looked out over the courtyard of the former Leader’s compound.

  “They will be talking about this for a long, long time,” said Overwinter, smiling and waving to the crowds gathering outside and flooding into the compound. The statue of Nevenember had already been destroyed by the crowds and its rubble strewn about the courtyard.

  Nomad simply nodded, lost in his thoughts.

  “You must be the new Leader,” he said suddenly.

  “It’s not me they want,” said Overwinter gravely. “They want you. You fulfilled their prophecy and led them to victory.”

  “We both know it was as much you as it was me,” said Nomad, smiling at Overwinter. “But you must make me some promises.”

  “Whatever you want, my friend,” replied Overwinter.

  “You must teach them to be self-sufficient and free,” said Nomad. “You must help them free themselves from their need to have Leaders. You must be the last Leader. And you have to do it before your life ends. I’ll have no dynasties of Last Leaders or whatever. One generation should be all it takes. You have to promise me this, Overwinter. If you keep your promise, I’ll endorse you and leave you to it.”<
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  “I think I can promise you that,” said Overwinter, his face flushing somewhat.

  “No. I don’t want you to think about it. I’m being serious. You have to swear to me, Overwinter. On your life. If I hear it isn’t being done, I’ll come back for you. You’re my friend, but these people must be free. I’ll not abandon them just to be dominated again.”

  “Okay, okay! I promise. I swear. I won’t let that happen. On my life, I promise,” said Overwinter, grasping Nomad’s hand and shaking it. Nomad had taught Overwinter the hand-shaking ritual from Earth.

  Nomad smiled.

  “I know you’re a good person,” he said releasing Overwinter’s hand. “So I’m sure you’re the right person for the job. Just remember that power can corrupt good people too. Always be on guard for it.”

  “Wait, you said you’re going somewhere,” said Overwinter, his smile suddenly vanishing. “Where are you going?”

  “Hopefully, eventually…home,” said Nomad quietly.

  *****

  “How is he?” whispered Nomad.

  “He’s fine. He needs some time to recover, but he’s tough. He’ll make it,” replied Danik.

  “I can hear you talking about me,” grumbled Telarch from the next room.

  Nomad walked around the corner and smiled broadly at his friend.

  “You scared us for a bit there,” he said, pulling up a stool beside the hospital bed.

  “Bah. You had nothing to be scared about. It was just a lucky shot,” said Telarch, grimacing as he attempted to sit up. His clean white bandages were covering his midsection, which had been torn up by shrapnel from an explosion, and his arm that had been shot during the battle.

  The hospital had been somewhat difficult for Nomad. The clean, sterile environment and plastic made his heart race a little. He still remembered the white-plastic room and the things they did to him there.

  But that was on Earth. Not here.

  “So what’s next? I hear that you skull-capped Nevenember and Overwinter is in charge?” said Telarch. Just then, Hiyadi walked in silently.

  “What’s next? I’m not sure exactly,” replied Nomad, nodding at Hiyadi, who placed a small urn of flowers by Telarch’s bedside table.

  “I’d like to find a way home if I could,” he continued, “but I don’t know science stuff. I’m not sure how to do it.”

  “If you can find a way back to your world, you can find a way back to my world too,” said Danik standing beside him, one hand on his shoulder. “So I’m going to help you.”

  “Same goes for me,” said Telarch.

  “I am in your debt,” said Hiyadi. “Therefore, it only makes sense that I assist you as well. I would also like to return home someday.”

  “You guys are my closest friends. I wouldn’t have it any other way; I just didn’t want you to feel obligated,” said Nomad, hugging Danik and smiling. “You’re all the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real family. Thank you.”

  “Now don’t go gettin’ all emotional,” scolded Telarch. “There’s no guarantee any of us will even make it off this forsaken planet let alone get back home. We have lots of work to do.”

  Telarch began pulling the monitoring equipment from his chest and forearms as he swung his short, hairy legs off the bed.

  “Somebody give me a hand and find my clothes and rifle,” he said gruffly, wincing in pain and struggling to sit up with one arm in a sling. Nomad put a hand on his broad shoulder.

  “Soon, friend. Soon. For now, rest. We need you healed up before we go rocketing around the universe looking for trouble,” he said. There was a look of stern determination in his eyes, and Telarch saw there was no point in arguing.

  “Fine. But the moment I’m better, I’m outta here,” grumbled Telarch.

  “If you had artificial limbs and organs, you would already be back in service,” observed Hiyadi.

  “If I had artificial limbs and organs, I’d be a bloody robot,” barked Telarch.

  “Untrue,” replied Hiyadi. “You would be a cyborg, technically speaking. Robots are defined as…” Nomad cut him off.

  “Okay you guys, let’s let Telarch rest for now,” he said, ushering them all out into the hallway.

  “You best not make any plans without me,” called Telarch. “I’ll know!”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Tel,” said Nomad as he left. Danik kissed Telarch on the forehead.

  “Don’t be such a worrier,” said Danik. “Nobody’s leaving you behind, Tel. See you later. Rest.” Telarch smiled and lay back onto the small bed and sighed. A nurse came in to reset his monitors and check on him. Nomad could hear Telarch complaining loudly from down the hall.

  *****

  They attended the liberation parade and ceremony the next day. Never had the city been so full of happy people. Decorations filled the streets: streamers, confetti, balloons, and children laughing and playing amongst the rubble.

  Indeed, the entire planet celebrated. Every city, every town rejoiced at their newfound freedom. The celebrations went on for days before they wound down and reality began to seep back into everyone’s existence. Like a cool fog after an evening storm.

  Nomad made arrangements with Overwinter for gear and supplies. Overwinter tried desperately to convince Nomad to stay. He offered him a cabinet post, offered him the leadership of the military, offered him to just stay on as a special advisor. But Nomad refused all his pleas.

  “You forget my name,” chuckled Nomad one evening. “What it means.”

  “I’m not some wanton woman trying to get you to settle down,” laughed Overwinter as he sipped some wine. “I want what’s best for the people, and you’re a good man.”

  “You know I have to do this,” said Nomad. “You’ve all become close to me, and I care about this world and its people, but it’s not my home and never will be. I need to go back to my home.”

  Overwinter gently set his wine glass down and looked at Nomad and smiled.

  “I know, my friend. You can’t blame me for trying,” he said with a sigh. “Where will you go?”

  “I haven’t figured it out yet. Most of the shield project was destroyed in the fighting, and Nevenember had the design team executed once the plans were finalized, so we still need to find scientists who can piece things together. If we can learn everything we can about how this quantum teleportation tech works, we might be able to find a way home.”

  “That reminds me,” said Overwinter. “I’ve been getting reports that more aliens are appearing in the same area near the old prison camp. Only a few so far, but its continuing and people are talking.”

  “What’re you going to do about it?” asked Nomad, sipping some wine.

  “I’ve stationed some guards to make sure they’re safe and given some translators, food, clothing, that kind of thing,” he replied. “There isn’t much we can do with them other than try to explain what’s happened and integrate them into this world.”

  “That sounds wise,” said Nomad, sighing and looking into his nearly drained wine glass.

  “More wine?” said Overwinter.

  “No, thank you,” said Nomad. “I’m just feeling a little…overwhelmed at the moment. The odds of me ever getting home are…”

  “Better than zero,” interrupted Overwinter. “If someone sent you here, you can be sent back, Nomad. Don’t lose hope. If I had lost hope growing up under the thumb of these Leaders, who knows how much longer we’d all still be suffering? Hope is the only thing that prevents us from losing a fight. Without it, there can be no victory.”

  “Spoken like a true leader,” said Nomad. “You’re the real deal, Overwinter.”

  “I like to think so,” said Overwinter. Then he laughed and Nomad saw his cheeks were flushed. They drank and told stories and debated policies and plans into the late evening.

  *****

  A few weeks passed and Telarch’s health improved greatly. The day he was released from the hospital, Nomad, Danik, Hiyadi, Del, and Hams were all waiting
for him.

  They had a huge cargo van retrofitted like an R.V. waiting, filled with gear and supplies.

  “What’s all this?” said Telarch as he walked through the doors of the hospital, eyeing the van suspiciously.

  “This is where we’ll all be living, working, and fighting together,” replied Danik, bending over to hug Telarch and kiss him on the cheek. “Welcome home, Tel.”

  Nomad shook his hand and smiled broadly. “Are you ready to go, Tel? We have lots of work to do.”

  “Hmph,” grumbled Telarch. “I was ready weeks ago. Let’s get on with it already.”

  “Glad to see you’ve recovered,” said Hiyadi, grinning.

  “Thanks,” said Telarch gruffly.

  “Now that you’re better, we can give you your gifts,” said Del. He was carrying a large rectangular box with a festive red ribbon.

  “It’s not my birthday,” said Telarch, unwrapping the gift gruffly. It was a massive grenade launcher that stood taller than he did. Telarch smiled.

  “We thought you’d like it, you old bastard,” said Hams, standing beside Del with another gift. Telarch laid the massive launcher on the ground and accepted the smaller gift-wrapped box.

  “What’s this then?” he said as he unwrapped the gift. It was a beautiful pistol with black holster and belt. The pistol had his name etched into it in beautiful script. Telarch worked the action and ejected the magazine and then attached it to his waist silently.

  He looked up and had tears in his eyes.

  “You…you all…” he stammered, sobbing. They all laughed.

  “You’re welcome,” said Danik.

  “And don’t think we ain’t comin’ with you,” said Del who was smiling and had a hand on Telarch’s shoulder.

  “That’s right!” said Hams. “We had too much fun fightin’ with you guys to just let you wander off into danger on your own!” Telarch looked at Nomad questioningly. Nomad just smiled and shrugged.