by Michael Kan
“Julian,” she said. “My little brother, out adventuring in the stars. Just like you always wanted to. I’m so proud.”
She fell back into the bench, thinking over everything he had just said. The war. The battles. And so many other things that went beyond what she knew. But before she could comment, Julian’s sister needed to get something straight. Pausing, she focused with her hazel eyes, and looked across the park.
“Wait, wait,” she said, pointing to the figure. “So you’re telling me, that she’s the Sovereign? The Sovereign?”
Julian looked over, and saw the sight.
“Yeah,” he said in nod. “Hard to believe.”
Not far, at the center of the park, was Alysdeon, standing within the playground, above a pool of wooden mulch. She had come to rendezvous with Julian, but had found herself occupied with the unlikeliest of subjects within her midst.
Julian heard the excited plea. “Higher, higher!” the little girl shouted. He briefly watched, as his 4-year-old niece happily moved back and forth on the swing set. The hands of the Sovereign launching the girl into the air.
“Me too!” his other niece asked, the older sibling jumping on the adjacent swing, and waiting for a push.
Julian scratched the back of his head, somewhat embarrassed. The two children were a handful, and brimming with energy, their tiny arms and legs always moving. Even so, it was clear that Alysdeon was happy to serve. Her face was radiating in a constant smile.
“The Sovereign,” his sister said, amazed. “She’s still so young...I feel like I’m under dressed.”
Angela wiped her face, and pressed down the sides of her hair, before straightening the rest of her plain utilitarian lab uniform.
“You should have told me sooner,” she complained, nudging him in the chest.
Julian laughed.
“It’s okay. You look fine. Great even.”
She blushed. “Ah, always so nice. My brother the starfighter.”
Grinning, Angela looked on at her children, and felt happy watching them toss up with each swing. He glanced at her, and felt the same. She was a few years older than him, and different. A civilian, and confined more to the sciences. But also more extroverted, and outwardly kind.
She chuckled.
“This reminds me,” she said. “You know, you and I used to play here as kids. We would swing here too.”
He gazed out at the park, the premises relatively small. Aside from them, there was no one else nearby, not even a drone. Only street lights, and an old fountain dry of any water.
“Really?” he asked, looking over his shoulder, but not remembering anything. Angela, nodded pointing to her children.
“You would always swing as high as you could, and then jump off at the right moment, to see how far you could land.”
He looked off to the swing set, clueless. To Julian, this was the first time he had ever set foot at the park, the entire area still a stranger to him.
“Jump off?”
“Yeah, you know. Jump out of the swing, in mid-air,” she said.
He had no idea what she was talking, but still he listened.
“I remember just watching, and expecting you to break a leg, or something,” she laughed. “You would always plummet forth, like an ancient cannonball. And then you would flash some dumb pose as you came off the ground.”
She put her arms at her waist akimbo, and puffed up her chest, mimicking what he had once done before: pretending to stand tall, and unaffected by his oafish tumble to the ground. Angela kept laughing, slapping her knee.
“I kept asking, why does he have to jump? Can’t he just swing like the rest of us?”
Julian laughed as well, although not to the same degree. He understood the sentiment, and so wanted to say something in response. Rubbing his chin, he could think of nothing. He merely envisioned himself as a small child. With his sister, innocently swinging back and forth, before jumping off and crashing into the wooden bark. It elicited a smile from his worn face.
While Julian would never be able to recall the memory, he didn’t have to.
“But I suppose that’s what made you happy,” she added. “That’s all that matters.”
Angela placed her hands down on the bench, and looked up at the sky. The overcast was still there, but the yellow light from the sun was beginning to show, and pour through.
Julian placed his hand on top of hers.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thanks for always being there.”
She shook her head, too modest to accept.
“No,” she replied. “We should be thanking you. You saved us. You saved all of us.”
They would sit under the emerging the sun for a little longer, and talk more about the past, present, and what might come. It wouldn’t be easy for him to explain everything. The loss still on his mind. But ultimately, he enjoyed every moment, and was happy that he was here.
“Anyways,” Angela continued. “I’m just glad I could see you again. And so are the kids.”
She was excited, and ready to rejoin her two children on the playground.
“Maybe you can teach them how to jump,” she said, rising from the park bench.
Angela then grabbed his two hands, and eagerly pulled him up from his seat.
“I guess I didn’t have to worry,” she added. “In the end, you didn’t forget about us, did you?”
***
The two children waved.
“Goodbye uncle,” they said, flashing their tiny hands. “Goodbye Alys.”
Julian and the Sovereign waved back, watching as the two girls scuttered off, ready to go home. But before they could leave, his sister had to give him one final hug.
“Take care of yourself brother,” Angela said. “We’ll always be here for you.”
Parting at the entrance of the park, he nodded, and held her tight.
“I would stay longer. But the war. It’s not over,” he said.
Julian didn’t have to explain.
“I know,” she replied. “Just stay strong. Like you always have.”
Releasing him, Angela smiled.
“Fight for Haven. Fight for all of us,” she asked, while hoping that he would stay safe.
To that, Julian gave a lighthearted salute. Taking his right hand, he raised it to his brow, and then pointed to the sky. “Will do,” he said.
She gave a kind glance, before jogging to catch up with her children. As they left his view, Julian heard his two nieces continue to giggle from afar. They were off chasing one another, and running down a hilly stump to the main road. Gradually, the two children faded away, disappearing past a column of trees and back into the neighborhood. Their mother followed, telling them to be careful, and to slow down. He heard it all echo by, and had to grin.
“Yes,” Julian said. “Just as it should be.”
Walking away, he then recalled what he had seen from the peak of the park. His hometown of Remington visibly unharmed. Julian lingered on the thought, not thinking so much about the factory city that lay on the horizon. Or the trails of floating hover-craft and power nodes in the air. Instead, he simply thought about the suburb nearby, along with the house where his sister and her two children lived.
“There,” she had said, pointing out to the neighborhood. “Right there.”
After gazing at the different boxed apartments, he had found it. The quaint house, surrounded in its own patch of forest. It was an older residence, roofed with solar panels, and built out of local wood and glass. On one side was a chimney, and in the back was a fenced yard.
“That’s where the kids play,” she had excitedly explained. “Last year, I had the droids install a swimming pool. God, the kids were so happy, you wouldn’t believe it.”
She lit up at every mention of the house, and he could tell that she was connected to the place. To his sister, it was home. A place of her own. A place where she always hoped to be.
But as for Julian, he couldn’t say the same. Not of his hometown,
or even the very planet. He shook his head, not wanting to think too much of it. However, to him, Haven was still another world. A place he barely even knew.
Rejoining Alysdeon, he walked with her over the gravel trail, preparing to take the different path.
“How were the kids?” he asked. “I hope they weren’t too much.”
She had exchanged her signature black uniform, for a yellow dress, the attire clearly designed to be worn in the sun.
Flashing a smile, Alysdeon reminisced.
She cheerfully motioned with her hands, pushing the air forward, like she had done so with Julian’s nieces on the swing.
He nodded, satisfied, but also holding something back.
“It was good. Angela is great. And my parents and brother are doing well in the capital,” he said. “By the way, how did that go? Your meeting with Haven’s provisional government?”
It was meant to be a harmless question, although Alysdeon couldn’t resist but sigh.
She walked on summing up all the electoral and procedural minutiae, before raising the real concern.
“I hope there won’t be any panic. The planet’s dealt with enough chaos already.”
She went to her wristband, a jade bracelet, and typed in the code. From the polished surface, came a hologram that sprung forth into the air. Glowing in gold and crimson, it showed a map of the sector. Haven was in the center, patrolled by a task force of Alliance ships. It was a sizeable force, led by a handful of fortress-sized vessels, and supported by its own army of drones. But moving far beyond the system was the rest of the Alliance’s armada, en route to take the offensive.
She showed him the simulations, the stellar maps once drenched in red, quickly purged of enemy influence. They could potentially save hundreds of different worlds, if not all of them, by openly sourcing the technology to the galactic public.
Julian smirked. “The Destroyer,” he said. “Last he told me, the Endervars were amassing near Nycon Nine. Any word?”
Scratching his chin, Julian wasn’t sure what to say to that. Should he be flattered?
Although he didn’t entirely trust the Ouryan, the man’s importance could not be ignored.
“I suppose I have to thank him when I get the chance,” he said. “We couldn’t have done it without him.”
“Fond? I hope not. Are you kidding me?”
Julian shivered, trying to forget what Alysdeon had just said. Seeing this, she laughed in her own muted way.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Somehow, we succeeded.”
It was then he thought it. The words passing from his mind to her. Almost by accident, but still true.
Thank you. For everything.
It was directed solely at her. The gratitude nearly silencing everything else. Alysdeon, however, wouldn’t have the chance to reply. She felt the other emotion quickly pierce through.
It came from Julian, both strong, and fading. The bittersweet notion, vacillating between sadness and solace. Nearly flinching, Julian looked away from her, and back to the surrounding area.
He took a deep breath in, as he gazed at the forests around them, the faint path cutting through the leafy trees. Then he turned his eyes to the sky, and the clouds above.
He didn’t say the name, but Alysdeon could hear it.
Arendi. It was the one person, neither she nor Julian could thank. She felt his guilt, and tried to sooth it, shutting down the hologram.
“Which is?”
He was no longer a fugitive, she explained. Even SpaceCore had withdrawn its arrest order.
She accessed the other hologram and displayed it. The silver medallion enshrined in neon.
“What is this?” he asked, completely unaware of its significance.
He looked up at the image, and doggedly shook his head.
“No, no. That’s not necessary.”
“No. I can’t accept. I really can’t.”
Walking away from her, he sighed, and shut his eyes. Julian didn’t care at all about the medallion. He much rather avoid any sort of recognition.
“It wouldn’t be right…” he whispered.
Upset, Julian nearly swore under his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said instead. “I know what you’re trying to do. But you don’t have to.”
As much as Julian deserved the honor, there was someone else who deserved it more. They could both feel the presence everywhere they went. The sense that she was there, but fleeting and then not. Walking over the dirt trail, they both stopped, their feet nestled against the planet’s surface.
She knelt down, and ran her hand through the seemingly immaterial dirt, picking up a clump of rock, before letting it fall back to the ground.
They only needed to think back to what they saw on the stellar maps. The potential to save the entire galaxy finally made real. If only, it hadn’t come with such a heavy price. A fact that no one, save for themselves, might understand.
“She once told me that she wasn’t even really alive,” Julian recalled. “That she was just a machine.”
Thinking about that, Julian felt the sadness. Maybe Arendi wanted it that way, he thought. To be a drone, and nothing more.
As she rose to her feet, Julian was quick to answer back.
“No,” he said, emphatically. “Never.”
Alysdeon nodded in full agreement. To them, Arendi had been much more, even as she herself didn’t always believe it.
“I knew her. It wasn’t for long. But I knew her.”
The words fell from his lips, comforting him, if nothing else. Eventually, they continued on. Crossing through the rest of the forest, they pushed past vines and tree branches, to finally reach the destination. What he found was a grassy field, the area open, and the blue and white sky high in the air.
Here, there was no city in the distance, or any hover-cars or floating homes in sight. It was only the planet, quiet, but in peace. Following Alysdeon, he walked through the knee-high grass, only to notice the starship.
Waiting under the sun, the Au-O’sanah and its shadowy hid
e stood perched above the ground. It had been partially repaired. The damage to its starboard side, healed over with a new graft of bio-mechanical skin. Unloading the landing bridge, the vessel welcomed Julian back, and even cried out in a howl. It echoed far and into the distance, sending the native escillian birds flying into the air.
Julian was happy to see it too. The ship was prepped for launch, and eager to head back to the stars. He was about to take one step further, and board the ship, when Alysdeon stopped.
She turned to him — one foot on the planet, the other on the landing bridge — and wondered if this was what he really wanted.
“What? What do you mean?”
The statement took him by surprise. Out of instinct, Julian wanted to dismiss it. But Alysdeon had more to say.
Hearing the thought, Julian awkwardly looked away and scratched the back of his neck, clearly unsure of something.
“Yeah,” he slowly replied. “Landon’s here too. Just arrived a few days ago, all patched up. They’ve both been contacting me.”
He said nothing at first, and only let his hand fall from his neck to the bottom of his cheek. Finally, after thinking it over, Julian looked back at Alysdeon, his face removed of worry.
“Nah,” he said. “There’s no need. I’m just happy they’re okay. Happy they’re together again.”
Feeling the dirt and rocks beneath his feet, Julian then shrugged.
“No,” he said. “Haven… I don’t know.”
He looked at his surroundings, and gave out a breath, feeling that perhaps he was out of place. “Although I enjoy it here, I can’t help but think—”
