* * * * *
No wonder they need moving corridors, Eiron laughed as he, Alessia, and a large group of Selesta’s inhabitants sped into the Cargo Bay from the air lock. Alessia was calling a meeting of the descendants of the Baidarka crew in a nearby hold, but it was taking much longer to get there than Eiron had expected.
The others finally arrived from all across the ship nearly an hour later. The children had been bustled away to let the adults get down to business. Eiron answered their questions all evening, noticing that though the youngest adults’ questions were no less relevant than the others’, they had a odd way of thinking about the outside world. It was as if the rest of the world only existed in memory as their heritage, and galaxies might just as well have separated them from it. It was clear that as the generations grew, they departed further from the greater reality and became more solidly rooted in their own restricted world, in this tempting island of peace.
Nevertheless, the outside world still fascinated them. They delighted with the idea that one day they might return to it. In doing so, they reminded Eiron of a child who proclaims himself the hero of an adventure but ultimately tires of playing the game as it begins to grow complicated. Reality just couldn’t live up to their dream of it.
He wondered if Dasan Mira, Enessa, or Derisar were still alive, but of course they must have died years ago. Only Alessia kept their memories alive. He sensed, though, that she had not told the others much more about why they were here than they needed to know; she seemed somehow stubborn about not interfering in any lives again.
However, many of the children born before and during the explorer mission still lived, children no more, but wizened old men and women revered by their children and grandchildren. Their chirite companions Eiron learned had been confiscated by the state long ago, all but one Alessia had smuggled away for them. Chir the second had died several years ago, but not until he had everyone in Selesta under his spell.
Eiron connected with the one-time children of the Baidarka mission remarkably well, more than he thought could be possible, considering the great age gap between them. Yet they clearly respected him, remembering Ristalv Vaikyur and the hope he had symbolized, hope that they could remain undisturbed and unprovoked until a whole way of life could change.
After everyone else withdrew for the sleep period, Eiron sat for a long time in the Great Cargo Bay, hoping to lose himself in the rows of gleaming space fighters.
His gaze darted among the disinterested space fighter planes that seemed to hover poised, eager for the next sortie.
Eiron turned around when he noticed the subtle intrusion of a ray of natural light reflecting on the space fighters’ stark synthetic surfaces that grew brighter as the light source approached.
Alessia sat down soundlessly next to him.
“You must be exhausted,” Alessia finally said. “If you want, I can direct you to your new quarters.”
“That’s all right.”
“You really should get some sleep.”
“No, I’m not tired, really,” he insisted, gazing around at the sheer enormity of the Great Cargo Bay, though it was but a small section of Selesta.
“Well then, shall I show you around?” Alessia suggested.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Eiron laughed.
The Last Immortal : Book One of Seeds of a Fallen Empire Page 40
