Endless

by S. B. Niccum

  Atonga and Tor chuckle and Pete’s head jerks up to look at what they’re laughing at.

  “His name is Russell,” John explains. “And he would like a little more appreciation from you. He has done a great job with you thus far. He’s the one responsible for you joining the rebellion, and finding Sam, and keeping you safe all this time.”

  “Who’s the third?” Pete asks drily.

  “Valerie,” John responds. “She came to help temporarily, and because of her sense of duty, never left.”

  “Thanks, I…” Valerie started to say, but Pete talked over her. “Am I related to any of these people?”

  “No, not you. But Sam is.” I say, and John relays the message.

  “Are these the people that used to own that house where we found the radio?” Pete inquires.

  “It’s Tess’ house and her husband’s.”

  “Alex,” Pete adds, putting the puzzle together.

  “Yes, Alex.” John affirms.

  “But why isn’t he here too?”

  “Well…that’s a long story. But his mother and his grandfather are here.”

  “Valerie and Russell?” he guesses and rubs his eyes as if trying to get his bearings.

  “Precisely!”

  “Now that he knows, can we get on with the meeting?” Onamuji says patiently. “It was a great sacrifice to leave our countries to come here. I suggest we get on with it.”

  “Agreed,” echo the others.

  “Pete,” John says to the boy. “Are you tired yet?”

  Pete frowns and opens his mouth to say something. “What? Yes,” he says, rubbing his eyes and fighting the urge to close them.

  “Good. Then go to sleep,” John orders as Pete starts to sway unsteadily in his chair.

  Mathoniaha and Eshe catch him before he falls, and they lay him next to Sam on the futon.

  “Right on time. That herb never fails.” John says with a shake of his head and a twinkle in his eye.

  Chapter 18

  The Aeonian council works swiftly and well together, discussing briefly the state of affairs in their various parts of the world and quickly deciding what needs to be done to aid the mortals in this last great battle. They promptly divide the work amongst themselves, and receive the approval from the Heavenly High Council right on the spot. They then adjourn and get to work. That’s it. There’s no delaying, no lingering, no hanging out, small talk, or chitchat; they just finish and go.

  Because we are present while the High Council speaks, and because Sam and Pete are out of immediate danger, Russell and I get reassigned back to Heaven. Valerie alone is left in charge of our two mortals—much against my own will.

  John, however, convinces me to relent due to the fact that Pete now knows that they are being watched over by angels, so he’ll be more apt to listen. The kids are moved to another rebellion headquarters in another part of the continent, where they will be far away from Martin, the crazy officer, and his deadly vendetta against Sam. They are put under the custody of Mathoniaha who is—by design—the most underestimated rebel of his underground rebellion group. He admonishes Sam and Pete to not bring attention to him and to never—ever—mention anything of what they know about him and his Aeonian status.

  So, under the guise of being distant relatives of “Matt”, as he’s called among the rebels from this part of the country, Sam and Pete regain a semblance of a life. I say my goodbyes and leave them with Valerie and Mathoniaha, feeling at peace with the fact that I did my small part in their lives. Then I fly straight back to Heaven where I catch up with Russell, who went up directly.

  “Russell!” I call out over a sea of spirits as soon as I spot him.

  “Tess! Good, you made it back! How did our kids get settled?” He winks with a teasing smile.

  “Good, good. They fit right in due to all the knowledge they had from the previous rebellion group to which they belonged. They were put on the radio and the telegraph right away, and made contact with their old rebellion group. Miles and the others were glad to hear they were still alive, and sad to lose them, but it’s a great resource to all of them to have allies in that part of the country.” I report, then sigh. “So this is it, then?” I say casually, taking a quick look around. “The last battle, as the Aeonians called it.”

  “It looks that way,” Russell says and looks about him. There are millions of spirits hanging around the High Council building, all Open, all waiting for instructions from their glowing pendants that called them here.

  “Hey! You’re Open!” I exclaim, finally realizing what’s different about him.

  “Took you long enough! What, it isn’t that noticeable?”

  I chuckle. “You blend in so well with the rest of the spirits that I guess I didn’t think about it.”

  “Yeah, well…it’s done. Finally done dealing with all my baggage! It feels good—freer, lighter, unburdened—it’s amazing that I didn’t do it sooner, a shame really.”

  “So you made up with your father, Henry?”

  “Well,” he shrugs, “I let go of the anger, once and for all. Then I told him that I no longer hated him and he thanked me for that. He’s not what you call the sensitive type, but I guess neither am I.” Russell nods to himself and looks around absentmindedly. “I don’t think we’re that different, actually. I was just lucky to have had Estelle as a mother. Being raised by an angel gave me a clear advantage.”

  “That is so sweet, Russell,” I croon. Embarrassed, Russell punches me jovially in the arm. “I do mean it! Anyway,” he changes the subject. “I’ve been looking for Nancy to tell her the good news. She should be around here somewhere. I also heard Dane was Open, so I’d like to find him.”

  “Have you heard anything about…?”

  “Alex? No.” He shakes his head and looks away, trying to hide his clear disappointment. “I tell you, of all people to end up like this,” he reflects, then a small shrill voice catches his attention and he starts looking through the crowds.

  “Russell!” a singsong voice with a southern drawl calls, then Nancy’s little black head appears through the throng, bobbing up and down with childish excitement. She leaps into her husband’s arms and they twirl around blissfully. Smiling, I turn and give them privacy, at least from my eyes. Part of me feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach. All loving displays remind me of the woeful state of affairs between Alex and me, and I feel bitter.

  In turning I’m able to see that Dorian and Luz are in the distance. They are busy organizing spirits and directing them to different areas. I float up above the crowd and start waving my arms. Dorian sees me and he brightens up, then waves me to him. Russell and Nancy follow me, and when we get to Dorian I find my parents there with Dane. All are Open, looking bright, beautiful, and unencumbered by unsolved issues. I inquire after Celeste and Max. They assure me that they too have opened and that they must be somewhere around here.

  My father and I have a short reunion of sorts, and because we are Open, we link briefly, and—as I had experienced with my mother—in the blink of an eye, I get to see and feel his love for me. It’s remarkable how being Open facilitates communication with others who are also Open. Words are not necessary; linking becomes easier and almost second nature. I see my father’s whole life, complete with intentions, feelings, and his perspective. Our bonding is immediate and, though a bit overwhelming, in a matter of minutes I no longer feel like an orphan. Part of my life has just been given back to me, thanks to this concise, yet powerful experience.

  Like a small flame tied around our necks, our pendants start to blink—in fact everyone’s pendants start to glow with new instructions as my parents and I chat amicably.

  “Recruiter.” Mine says, and I find that out of my group, I’m the only one with those instructions. All the rest say “Active Duty.”

  “Well, not much has changed for Russell, has it?” Nancy notes jovially. “Only difference is that I get to go with you this time, honey,” she says coyly.

  Le
o, my father, looks excited. Finally, he gets to join the action with permission. He’s done taking matters into his own hands; he’s done mistrusting the Eternals. He is now ready to prove himself as a true follower. My mother is beaming too, and she is so happy to have us both like this—safe, Open, and together. Heaven is finally a Heaven to her.

  “If we’re going back down there to fight, I’d like to get another one of those swords. We left the only one we had with Val, just in case she might need it.” Russell says, turning to the group. My father agrees with Russell and they start talking about how to get one. Dorian says he knows someone and the three of them start making plans.

  Irene, my mom, opens her mouth so say something to me, but she gets cut off by the sonorous sound of a female Cherub who is speaking in my head. “All recruiters, please come this way and follow me,” she says needlessly loud, through the Link.

  “What? What is it?” My mom asks, suddenly worried.

  “Nothing,” I assure her, “It’s just that Cherub,” I point to the giant figure in the distance. “She’s calling me through the Link—all recruiters I mean. I have to go.”

  I say goodbye, and float up to follow the few spirits that have been called as recruiters. We all look vastly different—all from different ethnic groups and periods of time. We exchange curious glances with each other, noticing the fact that we are all very diverse, and we all silently speculate as to the reason for this. There are probably a few hundred of us, but we are a small number in comparison to the innumerable host of spirits that were called to active duty.

  “Recruiters,” the female Cherub says out loud, now that we are all gathered. “Please follow me.” This Cherub is thin and tall, and looks more scholarly than athletic—an interesting distinction—since all Cherubs look like gladiators to me. She takes us to the building where Drymus helped me Open. We stand in the center, where there is more room. Still, some of us have to float in mid-air, while some others arrange themselves on the second and third floor corridors.

  The Cherub is holding a bunch of tiny scrolls that she passes out to us. Once I get mine I realize that, in my hands, the scrolls are big, yet in her hand they looked like toys. “You are all Open,” she observes. “Which means that the other spirits who have not Opened yet will be able to see the truth in you. Your instructions are on the scrolls. You are to study them, and bring yourself up to speed on what is happening on your planet right now. This is it!” she adds with emphasis, and looks at us shrewdly. “This is the last battle that your planet will ever fight as mortals. This is the end, the time when all Earthlings have to choose on which side they’ll fight. This is as much an individual war as it is a collective war. Scribes will take record of what happens today, in the Book of Earth Life. Your whole planet will be held accountable for what happens now. Win this, and you win it all, lose this and your planet will be lost.”

  “But—how can that be? Why would we be accountable for what others do?” A spirit who looks like he lived in the fourteenth century asks, and several others nod in agreement.

  “You are your brother’s keeper,” the Cherub says. “You cannot wash your hands clean unless you do your part. If you do your part—each of you—with all you have to give and offer, you will win. If one of you fails to do so, you will all lose.”

  “And then what?” a squaw, who looks like she just stepped out of a teepee, asks.

  “There was a prophecy given that says…” she opens up one of the scrolls and peers into it, squinting to see what, to her, is miniscule writing. “The righteous will inherit the Earth.” She looks up to see if we follow. We don’t. “That means that if you want the Earth to be restored and given back to you as it was first intended to be, then you need to fight for it. If not, you will be given another place to inhabit, and trust me—it will not be the same.”

  “Why?”

  “You are of Earth, you were formed from its dust, you were all made from it; you are all earth. You will not be complete nor achieve full happiness unless you return to your mother planet from whence you came from.”

  Her words remind me of what Drymus told me about the Link and resurrection. He had mentioned how glorious it felt to be linked not to just his fellow beings, but also to his planet. Briefly, he had shown me how wonderful it felt to know what a tree felt like, or the ocean, the waves, the grass, and everything that is alive. For a split second I got to feel what he felt when he first set foot on his planet as an immortal being, and what an immense joy it was to be linked to all of it.

  I could see that the other spirits present were having a hard time understanding this, so I thought I’d share this memory. We’re all Open after all, so I can technically link with all of them. I’ve never tried such an ambitious task, but for time’s sake I figure I should give it a go. If it’s that important that we—the few who have been chosen as recruiters—should understand what is at stake here, then I should at least try.

  So, closing my eyes, I focus all my senses on one thing: sharing this memory with all the spirits around me. There are a few hundred of us, I didn’t count, but it shouldn’t matter either—link with one, link with all—right?

  Suddenly, an echo of what sounds like several muted voices, starts ringing in my head. All types of stray conversations and thoughts flood my own mind at once, a few at first, then more, and more. For sanity’s sake I tune them out entirely and instead, I focus on that one memory that Drymus had given me. My own mind temporarily scrambles to find the exact moment the memory starts, the whole time keeping the other voices at bay. As soon as I find the memory, I start replaying it at a point where those, whose thoughts I have just interrupted, could understand. But I overshoot the context, and I give them more personal information than I initially intend. This is the first time that I’ve ever attempted to link with several different minds at once, so I scramble to skip forward, but I can’t seem to stop the memory from moving forward. I feel like I just hit the “reply to all” button accidentally, and I can’t go back and change it!

  “It’s called the Link,” Drymus explains in my memory. “For some reason, you and your Alex have had a natural Link since, well…I’ve never known you two not to have it.” I’m so embarrassed, but I simply can’t stop the memory from rolling onward, so it keeps replaying exactly as it happened right after I Open. So in essence, everyone who I’m currently linked with gets to see my life before life, with Alex. I even hear a few spirits sighing as they see how we’ve shared this amazing ability all the way from our pre-mortality.

  “Is that why we’ve been able to dream those vivid dreams, and get into each other’s head?”

  “Yes.” Drymus says in my memory, and again, everyone linked with me gets to see how we dreamed of each other during our mortal life. If I had epidermis, it’d be flushed right now.

  “Do lots of other people have the same ability?”

  “It’s rare, but not unheard of. Once you Open, you can connect through the Link with other beings who are Open as well. But it doesn’t become really cool until you resurrect and become immortal.” Now, this is what I intended to share. Here we go. I brace myself and hope that everyone understands.

  “How so?”

  “When your planet and all the beings are judged and resurrected, then,” Drymus nods and sighs approvingly. “Then it gets really fun! You see, everything takes back its physical form—people, plants, animals—your whole planet even! When that day comes, you will experience the Link in full force. You will feel what it’s like to be a tree or a bird. You will know what it’s like to be a planet, to orbit, to quake, and rend, to explode in magma from within. You’ll know how the ocean feels when one of its waves crashes against a rocky shore. It’s incredible!” The amazing part of this moment is that because I was linked with Drymus when he gave me his memory, I was also able to feel what he felt when he first experienced this, back on his own planet. Now many spirits from my planet hopefully understand this as well. I meant to leave the memory at that, but for some
reason, those that I’m linked with refuse to unlink with me. They want to see what happened next, so they listened to my next question to Drymus.

  “What happens to those who don’t make it out of Spirit Prison?” At the time I was thinking of Agatha, and how I let her escape, but I was also thinking of Alex and all the other spirits that I thought should not be there. Now, due to this Link of mine, everyone knows about Agatha, and how I released her, and how Alex was stuck there, along with my father. I’m not sure what effect this information will have on the spirits that I’m Linked to, but for better or worse, they now know all about it!

  “Everyone resurrects,” Drymus continues in the memory. “But not everyone will inherit your Earth. Your home planet is always reserved for those who accept Him and Open. If you don’t, you still get to live forever, but the place will not be as glorious.”

  “Is that where Hell comes in?”

  “Sort of, Hell is eternal guilt and remorse, not a place. Those who choose to carry this guilt around forever will never feel comfortable around a bunch of people who can read minds. It’s just nature. They will get a planet more suited to what they feel comfortable with.” Okay. That was it. I shut my mind down, I unplug the cord, and send everyone home. But before the link is severed, I can hear a few complainers, lamenting the fact that I cut them short. I can also feel the general sense that they now understand a little better what’s at stake. Before I have a chance to regain my composure, someone starts shouting something, and all the recruiters that are gathered in the hall, rush to the entrance and look out. “Ooo’s” and “Ahh’s” are uttered as they stare at something that seems to be amazing.

  Outside the building, we can still see the throngs of Open spirits that were already gathered there, but beyond them, the span of the rest of Heaven can be seen as well. It looks as if all other unopened spirits are flocking toward us and as they do, bursts of light pop up here and there like kernels of corn on a fire. Pop, pop, pop, a light here and a light there, all bright, yet all slightly different in color. A glorious chorus of lights rise up from the surface of Heaven. Even in far away places lights shoot up, like laser fingers of muted, rainbow colored lights, further illuminating the hazy brightness of this realm. It’s indescribably beautiful, and just like the turning of a switch, I’m sucked back into the Link, only this time, I’m not the one who started it.