"What was that about?" Nat asked when he and Doc were alone.
Doc massaged his right temple. "David wanted to know how to detach himself from his emotions."
Nat raised an eyebrow. "What did you tell him?"
"That such a thing is undesirable. I'm not sure if I got through to him. He’s struggling, Nat."
"I can imagine," Nat moved forward to take David's now vacant seat. "Did you expect he wouldn't?"
"No," Doc passed a hand over his eyes. "Still, I worry about him. Some of the things he says, they remind me of things Bart said before he left us for collective life."
Nat settled into David's seat. "So, you've been reading the journal then?"
Doc nodded. "Yes. It fills me with a strange, sweet melancholy to read it after all these years. Especially knowing Adaiah kept it so long at the lighthouse with her." He shook his head. “All these years, all these events, and we still don't truly know what's going on. What truly happened back then." A searing pain Doc had felt often since the team went to the Pacific island flashed across Doc’s chest. He felt it every time he thought about Adaiah and that damned lighthouse. “How can she have been alive all this time?” he whispered.
Nat gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t think she really died,” he said softly. “It seemed like she did. We believed she did. Given what happened, the way she…” he trailed off, obviously lost in thought. “It was a logical, natural assumption, Johann.”
Doc nodded and a brief silence fell. He’d been over the events of Adaiah’s death, or whatever it had been, so many times, the memory had become part of his routine. He’d told himself everything Nat had just said dozens of times. Hearing Nat say them felt more reassuring than Doc telling himself. It also didn’t lessen the pain in his chest.
“Do you still do it?” Nat asked. “Keep a journal, I mean.”
“I suppose I do, yes. But it’s less personal than back then. I record the team’s missions, my observations on the group’s interactions. That sort of thing.”
Nat smiled knowingly. “You’re telling the team’s story.”
"I suppose," Doc said. He sighed, feeling tired. "Reading my journal again makes me realize how much of this is my fault."
Nat froze, the mirth sliding right out of his eyes. "Surely you don't mean," he paused, as though looking for the right words. "You don't mean…all of it?"
Doc let his breath out in frustration. “I mean Bart."
Nat shook his head. "After all this time, do you really want to start laying blame on your own shoulders?"
"I should have saved my little brother and didn't. He blamed me and still does. I became so caught up in my selfish desires, I couldn't see it. I should have tried harder."
Nat shook his head as Doc spoke. "You didn’t do anything wrong, Johan. We were young. Of course you protected your wife above others. Anyone would. Bart was weak minded."
"Yes," Doc said. "But we knew that. When we realized he leaned toward collective life, we should have tried harder to bring him back to us. To make him see. He became his own worst enemy. We should have safeguarded against that."
"No matter what happened to him,” Nat said firmly, “what grievances he had, real or imagined, at some point he has to take responsibility for his actions. You know that as well as I do, Johan."
Doc sighed. “I do know it. We all must.” He studied Nat’s grizzled face. “I often forget that you loved her too."
"For a time," Nat said softly. "It helped that she didn't love me back, as strange as it is to say. I moved on. Found love in other places. One always does if one cares to search. I can't imagine life without Kamra, Lenna and Snap. Things worked out as they were always meant to, Johan. I hold no grudge about what happened back then."
Doc smiled fondly at his little brother. "I know that, Nat. You've always been loyal. Through all the long years of loneliness and battling the collectives, you've been my rock. I haven’t expressed enough appreciation, or told you how proud I am of the life you've lived."
Nat’s smile held pleasure. "You never had to, Johan. Nor have I told you how proud I am of you for leading the rebellion. I know it's not been easy, especially after losing Adaiah. Your life has been longer and harder than most, yet you persevere. We’re all here because of you."
A lump rose in Doc’s throat. Moisture bubbled up in his eyes. Not wanting his emotions to get the better of him, he changed the subject. "I've meant to ask you. After Bart invaded Lila's mind and Maggie ended up in his memories, you said the memory she saw wasn't random. What did you mean?"
Nat sat back in his chair. "I'm not sure how to explain it scientifically. It makes sense to me that the memory Maggie saw had to do with Adaiah."
Doc arched an eyebrow. "How so?"
"When Maggie talked to Bart in the round room, she was thinking about Marcus. She thought about all of us: the rebellion, the freedom of humanity, all her friends and family, but naturally her first thoughts were for the man she loved. Thoughts of Marcus occupied her mind when she invaded Bart's. The memories she saw were of Adaiah."
Ah. Doc understood. Because Maggie’s thoughts were of the man she loved, when she moved into Bart's mind, she was drawn into a memory of the woman Bart loved. Strong emotions had that effect. They sucked people in, like gravity. After all these years, Bart was still in love with Adaiah. The thought made Doc’s chest hurt.
“You’re a very wise man, Nat. Do you know that? Why don’t you speak up more often?”
Nat smiled again in shy way Doc had always found endearing. He shrugged. “I’m not the leader.”
“Maybe you should have been.”
Nat shook his head. “I’m here for anything any of you need, Johann, but I’m not a member of the team named in the prophecy. The role of leadership, I’m afraid, falls to you.”
Doc sighed. He knew that all too well. "I've been sitting here thinking about everything that's happened over the past few days. And weeks and decades,” Doc said.
"I’ve done the same," Nat nodded. "So many strange things. So much to discuss and no time to discuss it. We should have both been philosophers, Johan."
Doc chuckled, but felt genuine interest in Nat's thoughts. "What have you been thinking about, Natty?"
“Many things," Nat waved a hand dismissively. "Téa and Benny for one. All this talk of ‘becoming the darkness.’ I don’t pretend to know what Benny’s sister did, but I do think she managed to protect him.”
Doc raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “How so?”
“Based on what Benny told me. How recently his encounter with the Cimerian had been, how close he still was to where his sister pushed him into the river, and knowing that Cimerian are blood hounds….” His eyes looked troubled. “We should have run into him, Johann. There’s no reason that he shouldn’t have found and caught up to us. If he didn’t, I think it’s because whatever Téa did kept him from tracking us. She truly did save her brother’s life. And his freedom.”
Doc nodded thoughtfully.
“One other detail I can't seem to shake,” Nat went on. “In Maggie's memory, Bart called his people drones. That's what we call them, Johann. You’d think he’d have a better name for them. Just as we called them collectives, and Tenessa calls them the Union, you’d think Bart would have a kinder euphemism."
Doc nodded. "I noticed it too. It shows how far gone he is. He doesn't regard his people as people, but as objects. Bart is our brother and I will always love the boy I knew, but he's not that boy anymore. He's given himself over to power and callousness. If he wanted to exist that way by himself, we couldn’t have stopped him. Now he's forcing it on others. On us.” Doc made his voice harder. “He must be resisted."
Nat nodded thoughtfully, studying Doc’s face. "What is it Johan?" he asked. "What has you worried? Do you think we’ll fail?"
Doc sat back. "There's no way to know what will happen, of course, but no." Doc forced himself to meet his brother's eye. "You know Bart will never stop. Not while he's alive an
yway."
Understanding came into Nat's face. "You’re afraid you'll have to kill him."
"That I’ll have to kill my brother to save humanity?" Doc asked. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Yes." He tried to shake off the lead-like feeling in his chest. "Even that is illogical. Maggie is the Executioner. I truly believe it will have to be her."
Nat nodded. “Then you fear Bart’s actual death. It's understandable. Even after all the things Bart has said and done and become, the death of a sibling…it's unimaginable.” He took a deep breath. “We don't have to worry yet. The Binding keeps us safe."
Doc started at hearing Nat mention the very thing occupying his thoughts. "That's exactly what concerns me."
Nat arched a questioning eyebrow.
"Everything feels like it's coming to a head, Natty. If we see an opportunity to bring Bart and the collectives down, we must take it without thought. The Binding means what happens to one happens to all. If I must die to bring the collectives down, I'm at peace with that. Especially given all my past mistakes."
Nat opened his mouth to object. Doc hurried on, speaking over him. “You have a wife and children to take care of. Many years yet in this world. I know it's far too late to be thinking about this. When we’ve stopped the assimilation and can breathe again, I’m going to work on a solution. Some way to release you from the Binding that will also protect you if Bart lashes out. A complicated problem to say the least."
“I don’t like that idea, Johann,” Nat said firmly. “He’ll feel it the instant the Binding evaporates, the same as we will.”
“As I said, I won’t do it until I’m certain I can protect you.”
“It’s not about me,” Nat said fiercely. More fiercely than Doc had heard him sound in a long time. “He’s never come after me in the way he’s come after you. Not since Adaiah made her choice. I’ve never been the one he saw as a threat.”
Doc looked down at his hands. “He did suggest in that cavern that he knew a way around the Binding.”
“He did,” Nat nodded. “But why help him?”
“I’m not helping him,” Doc objected. “I’m trying to preempt him. If he knows a way around the bond, we should put another layer of protection in place.”
“He might have been bluffing,” Nat said quietly. “Just trying to frighten us.”
“Perhaps,” Doc conceded. “But why now? Why not bluff years ago, or any other time we’ve talked? Why say it now unless something has changed?”
“We’ll just have to be on guard,” Nat said. “As we always are.”
Doc glanced at his brother, who looked preoccupied. “I have a feeling, if he’s got something planned, we’ll be too preoccupied to see it coming.”
“So do I,” Nat said. When he spoke again, his voice held melancholy. "Promise me one thing, Johann. When you find the solution, and I've no doubt you will, release yourself from the Binding as well. You hold yourself responsible for things you shouldn't. We've all made mistakes. If we’d succeeded in keeping Bart with us, if he'd never turned collectivist, the collectives would still have risen. We’d still be here.” He paused. “Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps Bart going into the collective and his conflict with you spurred you to leadership. Perhaps it gave you the determination to bring down the collectives. Without the mistakes you made, individuality might have been eradicated long ago.”
Doc felt deep affection for his brother and allowed himself a small smile.
“There's no way to know how things might've played out,” Nat continued. “It's irrelevant anyway. What happened, happened. You must forgive yourself Johan. Allow yourself to love and be happy. We don't know why Adaiah is alive, or how. But Maggie met her in the lighthouse, and we have no reason to think she’s died since. Don't resign yourself to death. All things happen for a reason."
Doc stared at his younger brother, taking in what he'd said. He couldn't internalize Nat's words, but he appreciated them all the same. "Thank you for coming back when you did, Nat. A fateful move on your part, it seems, as you stumbled upon David along the way. I'm so glad you're here. It seems right for us to be side-by-side again after all these years, as everything comes to a head."
Nat smiled. “The decision to come was somewhat selfish. Things became more and more dangerous in the world, which made me want the protection of Interchron for my family, but I agree. The time for planning and separation has passed."
"We two brothers, together again,” Doc said quietly. His thoughts meandered across strange paths, and he let them spill out of his mouth in his brother's presence. "Marcus and David together again as well. Even Maggie's brother has arrived now."
"It feels like a convergence of sorts, doesn't it?" Nat asked.
Doc smiled wryly. "Perhaps it's the energy of the eclipse affecting us all. Making us think we’re feeling things that aren't truly there."
"Or perhaps it's fate," Nat said quietly.
Doc studied his brother. The same face he'd known for hundreds of years. "Yes, fate. Perhaps fate."
Chapter 21: Murder on the Mountainside
August 31, 2156
It’s been more than a week since the public disaster, as people are fond of calling it in a whisper, and I’m only now sitting down to record it. Too much has been happening. Emotions run high, precautions must be put in place. Of course, Healing had to be done.
Truly, I’ve felt angst and chaos about the whole thing since it happened. Now, as I sit in the quiet of my room, beside the bed where Adaiah sleeps peacefully for the first time in days, different feelings arise. A deep, aching sadness steals over me for mistakes I made. I simply reacted. Now, looking back, I wish I could have stopped in the moment, taken in the situation, and acted accordingly. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, so they say. I find that regret is too.
I figured the meeting between the Core Union and the B.C.O leadership would be damaging, as I wrote before, but I couldn’t have imagined the reality.
The meeting took place in the appointed spot, in a meadow at the base of Interchroniter Mountain. A dais had been set up. Tables sat atop it, where the leaders sat, standing when their turn to speak came. On the grass in front of the dais, chairs faced them for the public to sit in and observe. The dais, situated below an outcropping of boulders jutting from the mountainside, stretched across one side of the clearing, with the B.C.O leaders on the left side and the Core Union ones on the right.
Afternoon faded to evening and the stars came out. Still the meeting continued.
The first few hours went as expected. The Core Union presented its arguments for the strict regulation of neurochemical abilities (by them, of course) and to my horror, many of those in attendance seemed in favor of it. Apparently, the Union has created something they call a neurological sedative. It suppresses the part of the brain from which the abilities emanate without rendering the patient unconscious. Until and unless neurochemical abilities are regulated, they suggest every human being be given regular doses of this to suppress our powers. True regulation would be a cocktail of sorts, tailored to each person’s individual abilities. It wouldn’t suppress the abilities entirely, but allow only a certain threshold of power to be used, at certain times and for certain purposes.
For some reason, the general public seems to think such restrictions are logical. We might as well dispense with the abilities entirely if we are not allowed to hone them and put them to good use.
Do people not understand we can achieve? What potential good can be done by pushing these abilities to their limits?
As I became frustrated with the circular arguments, and the fact that the B.C.O. seemed to be losing, I got up for some air. I needed to walk off the anxiety the meeting had caused in me. I checked first searched for Adaiah. She sat on the dais beside President Zealey and paid rapt attention to the proceedings. She wouldn’t notice my absence.
I’d seen no sign of Bart up until then, but harbored hopes that perhaps he’d be in attendance. As I rose from my chair, I spotted him at the
back of the audience, watching inconspicuously. My heart leapt in my chest at seeing him, if for no other reason than to learn he’d not, in fact, become a Union drone.
When he saw me walking toward him, he turned and stalked away. I hurried around the audience and caught up to him at the edge of the clearing, where the tall grass met the trees. We’d speak in relative privacy there, so long as we kept our voices low.
“Bart,” I called toward his fleeing back, “please. I’m sorry for what happened.”
He continued to move away, into the trees. The moon did not shine particularly bright, yet the trees were spaced far enough apart to allow light to filter down through the canopy. I saw Bart’s figure clearly.
“I want to make peace,” I said, jogging to catch up. His aggressive stride kept us continually six feet apart. “You were right.”
He stopped, slowly turned. For the first time in months, I faced my brother. The lines and angles of his face were unchanged since last I laid eyes on him, yet he still looked different. Harder, somehow. His striking blue eyes appeared murkier, though perhaps the dim light of the evening only made it seem so.
“You were right,” I said again, because the phrase had captured his attention. “I never have chosen you first before. I don’t know why. Perhaps because I always felt closer to Natty. Perhaps because I’m a selfish man.”
His face hardened with every word.
“Whatever the reason, it was wrong of me. I know that now. Please, Bart. I want to make amends.”
His face didn’t exactly soften, but it…froze. He seemed to consider my words. “Make amends, how?” he asked warily.
“Come home. From this day forward, you shall have my unfailing loyalty, brother. I promise you. Let us start fresh together.”
Bart raised an eyebrow. “Unfailing loyalty, huh? Above even Nat?”
Mild annoyance flared at the question, yet I wasn’t wholly surprised. Everything is a competition with Bart. Always has been. “Equal with Natty,” I kept my voice neutral when I answered. “You’re both my brothers and the three of us should be together on everything.”
Dark Matter (Interchron Book 3) Page 28
