by Amy DuBoff
“Yeah, I agree.” Michael shifted on his feet, seeming to remember he was still only half-dressed. “Just give me a few minutes to get ready. I’ll come find you soon.”
Right, I interrupted them. Saera hastily stood up. “Sorry for intruding.”
“Not at all. You’re welcome to stay—” Elise started.
One glance toward Michael’s uncomfortable expression told Saera to ignore Elise’s offer. Michael would always be a good friend, but there were boundaries, and this visit had crossed the line. “It’s okay. I’ll wait in my quarters. No rush,” Saera said and headed for the door.
Elise nodded with compassion. “We’re here if you need anything.”
Michael showed her out. “He’ll be back soon. I have no doubt.”
Saera nodded, though she wasn’t yet sure she genuinely believed the statement. “I’m really happy for you.”
He glanced back at Elise. “Me too.”
Without another word, Saera headed back to her quarters. Wil has to come back. We have so much left to do.
* * *
The High Commander’s office would always belong to Banks in Cris’ mind, but he would have to find a way to make it his own. Especially with Wil gone for an indeterminate time, the TSS was in his hands. He’d made his stand as a dynastic heir helming the TSS, and he needed to own that new position.
Cris closed out of the latest reports about progress repairing the rift. I hope the administrative tedium doesn’t drive me crazy. At least it will be fun having Saera as Lead Agent.
As he leaned back in the desk chair to take a quick break, a chirp from the desktop returned him to attention.
The source of the communication was completely masked, but a star was displayed next to the caller, indicating prior communications. Is this my new boss checking in on me?
“CACI, accept call on the main viewscreen,” Cris instructed, walking over to face the display.
The broad viewscreen on the side wall briefly illuminated with the TSS logo, then transitioned to an image of a single figure robed in black.
“Hello,” Cris greeted, instantly on edge.
“Cristoph Sietinen,” the figure stated in a low male voice. “Sietinen heir, and now acting High Commander. So much power for one so volatile.”
Cris crossed his arms. “Volatile? I think I’ve been a pretty reliable officer.”
“You claim to serve the TSS, but still you think of other matters. You have never learned your place.”
“My place is in service to Tararia.”
The figure shook his head, face concealed in shadow. “You think only of what will improve the lives of those like you, not the will of the people.”
I can only assume this is one of the Priesthood’s leaders. What is he trying to get from me? “I have vowed to do what I think is in the best interest of all Tarans.”
“That is not your decision to make!” the figure bellowed.
“Is it yours?” Cris asked, trying to appear unruffled. If this is what Banks was dealing with all those years, no wonder he always kept quiet.
“You answer to the Priesthood, now and always.”
That was all the confirmation Cris needed. “Yes. As I said, I serve the Taran people.”
“Understand your role.”
“And what is that, exactly? You’re speaking in vague generalizations—threats, maybe. I mean, you call yourself a leader, but you won’t show your face, or even share your name. In my experience, that’s not a great way to win over followers.”
“I am a Priest. That is all you need to know.”
So that makes him deserving of authority? I think not. “We won your war for you. Things are going to be different going forward.”
The Priest leaned closer to the camera. “You’ll do exactly what you’re told to do.”
Cris cocked his head. “You know, I think these little check-ins between the TSS and Priesthood are over. I call the shots around here now.”
“The TSS will wither without our support,” the Priest retorted. “The Priesthood provides your primary source of funding.”
“Really, you’re threatening to cut off our funding?” Cris laughed. “Now that we don’t have a war to sponsor, I can easily cover normal TSS operating costs for training and fleet upkeep on my SiNavTech royalties alone. Considering the TSS is now basically an undirected group of battle-hardened telekinetic soldiers, I don’t think that’s a fight you want to start.”
The Priest was silent for a moment, then red eyes flashed beneath his hood—eyes like Cris had only ever seen on a Bakzen. “Enjoy the TSS while you can. It won’t remain a sanctuary forever.” He ended the transmission.
Cris leaned against the desk, letting out a slow breath. I hope I know what I’m doing.
CHAPTER 30
Waves lapped at the rocky shore of the tiny island. Wil sat on the ground with his bare feet in the sand, watching the water ebb and flow just out of reach from his toes, just as he’d done every day for the last month.
The island was the smallest land mass on the planet of Orino, where he had spent his Junior Agent internship in what felt like a previous lifetime. It would be easy for a passing boat to miss, with barely any elevation and only a few dozen meters in diameter—just large enough to support his shuttle, which was stocked with several months of rations. He had once come to terms with his inner self and purpose on Orino, so he could think of no better place to hopefully find himself again.
As he watched the dark green water along the horizon, it was hard for him to believe how much had transpired since he had last looked upon the ocean. His relationship with Saera had still been new back then, their bond fresh and untested. The war with the Bakzen had still been a distant future that seemed possible to alter. He had still had a sense of self that didn’t revolve around death and destruction—with hope for a future beyond the war.
Wil burrowed into the beach pebbles with his toes. The empty hole in his chest was too much to bear.
So many died because of me. Why should I live? There was a logical answer to the question. He was a Sietinen heir, uniquely positioned to bridge Taran politics and those with telekinetic abilities within the TSS. He had the tools to make life better for those like him, so others with abilities would no longer be treated as outcasts.
There were plenty of excuses for why he shouldn’t be held responsible for what happened in the war. He didn’t start the fighting, but it was his duty to end it. By following through, he had fulfilled his purpose. The consequences of those actions weren’t his to bear, but rather the Priesthood’s for bringing about the war in the first place—for engineering Wil to clean up their mess. With no thanks or admission of wrongdoing, the Priesthood remained unchecked. Wil was in a position to set things right, once and for all.
Yet, no future application of his life seemed like enough.
The genocide of the Bakzen had justification, perhaps, but that was not his only transgression. What happened to Cambion was solely on his hands. For those billions of lives, there was no way to make amends. To continue on with his own life as if nothing had happened would only insult their memory. How can I be happy when so many others have lost their lives entirely? When their friends and family continue to suffer from the loss?
Wil kicked the pebbles aside and lurched to his feet, stiff from sitting for so long on the hard ground.
Walking into the water to be freed from his burden would be so simple. He could be washed away, existing only in memory. No one would have to know what he’d done.
He approached the edge of the surf, as he’d done in the days before, and let the waves lap at his toes. Only a few steps forward and he could plunge into the depths and be released. It would be all too easy, but he had never been one to take the easy way out.
The water chilled him as it eddied around his ankles, soaking the cuff of his pants. He wished for release—to no longer bear the weight of guilt and loss. He had fulfilled his role and it had consumed him, just as he ex
pected. The shreds of his former self needed to be reassembled, but he didn’t know how.
As Wil took another step forward into the cold to temporarily numb his pain, he gazed out at the endless waters. And then he saw the boat.
It glided over the gently rolling water, carried on the strong easterly breeze. A single sail billowed on the central mast, the details still indistinct at that distance.
Wil remained in the water while the boat approached, numb from his knees down. As the vessel neared, the rusted hull came into focus. Only a single person occupied the deck. A hundred meters out, the tall, slim figure waved to him—nearly jumping with excitement. Wil strained to make out the face masked by the shadow of the sail.
Mila? The spark of recognition brought the scene into focus. His lips parted with surprise as he took in the sight of his old friend and travel companion from his internship on Orino nearly a decade before. She had matured from the girl he’d known into a woman, though her longer hair was the biggest change.
“You’re back!” she exclaimed, running to the railing to grab the anchor.
“What are you doing here?” Wil shouted back over the water.
“Coming to see you, of course!” Mila replied and dropped the anchor into the ocean. Before Wil had time to respond, she dove from her vessel and began swimming toward the shore.
Two meters from Wil, Mila found her footing. The water came up to her waist, and she wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the chill. “You didn’t have to come into the water to meet me, silly.”
“I was already out here.”
“You came to the wrong planet if you wanted to play around in the ocean.” She waded toward him, examining his face. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“You shouldn’t have come,” Wil murmured. I came here to be alone.
Mila evaluated his scowl. “Now I’m especially glad I did.” She gestured toward the shore. “Come on, let’s talk.”
Wil allowed her to lead him from the water back to the campsite he had erected next to the shuttle. A chair was situated next to a compact thermal unit functioning as a heater and food warmer, and a solar collector rested on the ground to power Wil’s handheld in the event it was needed. He’d tried to step fully away from the ties to his life back home, but the tether was there in the event he could find his way back. Maybe, with Mila’s help, that would be possible.
Mila set Wil down in the folding chair by the heater. “I don’t suppose you have a second seat?”
“I wasn’t expecting company.”
Mila nodded, her oval face soft with understanding. She surveyed the campsite and spotted one of the crates containing the meal rations he’d procured from a space station en route. Without hesitation, she dragged it across the black rock and sat down to face Wil. “Something tells me you weren’t about to go on a recreational swim.”
Wil dropped his head, not wanting to meet her searching eyes.
“Wil…” Mila placed her hand on his knee, radiating surprising warmth despite her wet clothes and the cool air.
“I’m not the same person you knew before.”
Mila frowned. “What did they do to you?”
What did I do to myself? “I can’t even begin to explain what I’ve been through over the last several years. It feels like five lifetimes. I’m tired. I don’t want to carry this weight anymore.”
“So you came all the way here to drown yourself in the ocean?” Mila raised an eyebrow.
“No…. I needed to escape.”
“Escape what?”
Myself. Except, there’s nowhere to go. “I just had to get away. My whole life I’ve had others telling me who I needed to be. I wanted to find out who I am without all that.”
Mila shrugged. “Okay… But, that doesn’t explain why you were contemplating drowning yourself in the ocean.”
“I wasn’t trying to drown myself.” I feel like I’m already drowning, even on land…
“I ask,” she continued, “because that doesn’t seem like a very reliable way of offing yourself. If you were serious about it, I’d think you’d throw yourself out an airlock. You were born in space, may as well die that way, too.”
The bluntness of her statement caught Wil by surprise. That’s true, I could—use my power to begin repairing the rift the Bakzen created. But I didn’t… “That’s not what I want.”
“So you keep insisting, but your actions say otherwise. Why the inner conflict?”
“I did something unforgivable.”
“I’m sure most people who’ve been through a war would say the same thing.”
Wil shook his head. “Not like this.”
“So, you want to punish yourself?” Mila asked, ducking her head in an attempt to look him in the eyes.
“It’s complicated.”
She smirked. “Of course, isn’t it always?”
Wil crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, careful to avoid eye contact. There’s no way she could possibly understand. Can’t I just be left alone?
“I’m not going to let you off that easily.”
He groaned. “Why are you even here? I didn’t invite you.”
“I saw your ship fly over and came looking for you. The winds didn’t pick up until last week so it took a while to set out.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“I didn’t, but I had a hunch.” Mila crossed her legs and propped her arms back on the crate. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.”
“How’s that?”
“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. I’m not going anywhere until you’re in your right mind again.”
“My well-being isn’t your concern.”
She made a sweeping survey of the barren surroundings from her seat. “I don’t see anyone else around to keep watch. That leaves me.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You’re right, what you need is counseling with an elder. Except, I’m the only one around so you’ll have to make do.” Mila flashed a determined smile.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine.”
“Considering I found you knee-deep in the water and you could have been about to dive in, I’m not buying it.”
Wil let out an exasperated sigh. “Mila, please. This is something I need to work through on my own.”
“Nope, still not buying it,” she shot back. “You could have landed here without anyone being the wiser. I mean, stars! I never even knew this little island was here and I’ve lived a two-weeks’ sail away from it my whole life. Yet, you did a little flyby where there was a good chance of one of your old friends seeing you. I think you wanted company out here.”
“I would have brought a second chair, if that were the case.”
“But this crate is so comfy!” She leaned forward, placing her forearms on her thighs. “Come on, Wil. Just admit that maybe you don’t want to be alone right now.”
The best he could manage was a shrug.
Mila tilted her head. “All right, I’ll take it. Now, what drove you to abandon civilization and take up residence on this deserted rock for the last month?”
“I had a lot of thinking to do. I wanted to go somewhere where I wouldn’t be bothered.”
She barely batted an eye at his accusing glare. “So think out loud. What’s on your mind?”
Wil groaned. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be? What about Tiro?”
Mila slumped. “Sometimes things don’t work out how you imagine.”
Oh… Wil gave her a moment to gather herself. “What happened?”
She picked at one of her fingernails. “When it came down to it, we wanted different things. He wanted a family, I wanted adventure.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “Don’t be. We enjoyed our time together. It is what it is.” She let out a slow breath. “What about you? Did you and your girl fare any better?”
“We’ve been married for almost thr
ee years,” Wil replied.
“So why isn’t she here with you?”
“I needed to work through this on my own.” Can I ever come to terms with my actions so I can look at her without seeing the ruins of Cambion?
“Do you still love her?”
“Of course.”
Mila eyed him. “Then what’s the problem?”
Wil shook his head in silence, unable to put his actions into words.
“Tell me, Wil,” Mila pressed.
“I—” He searched for what to say. “I had an impossible decision to make, and I chose her.”
“Okay… Still not seeing the problem.”
Wil took a ragged breath. “I allowed others to die so that she might live.” As he heard the admission in his own voice, the destruction of Cambion replayed in his mind, vivid and visceral. Cries of pain, the stench of smoke, a pounding heart—his senses overwhelmed with his own personal nightmare of how the planet’s final moments may have played out.
Then, everything became quiet and still. Even in vague terms, he had revealed his deepest secret, taking the first step to pry the weights from his conscience.
Mila let the words sink in. “She means a lot to you.”
“Everything.”
“I’m willing to bet she thinks about you the same way.”
Wil hugged himself, reflecting on the tender moments he’d shared with Saera over the years. There was no question how she felt about him. “She does.”
“You said you let others die in exchange for her life… But what kind of life could it possibly be for her if you’re not in it?”
The words cut deep. Saera’s innocent in all this. I can’t possibly ask her to accept me after what I’ve done. It’s not fair to her. “She deserves better than me.”
“I don’t know her, so it’s not my place to say what she deserves. But, speaking as someone who’s been in love, I can tell you that it’s infuriating to have anyone else tell you who you should or shouldn’t be with. If she wants you, then you need to be there for her.”
Wil shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right. Not after what I’ve done.”
