CHAPTER 52

7246

DEVON

Andrew sets his book aside, placing it down with care and then turns back to me—his face looks calmer than when I last had seen him. "I am glad to see you. I had thought you had perished on your way out toward Abu Kheppi."

"I didn't take you for someone who'd say perished."

He moves to stand, his whole body seems to stretch and I can hear several of his joints cracking. "Separation from a term makes it much easier to deal with. It's the same concept of how it is much easier to let billions of people die on a planet than to stab a single person with a knife."

"You still hung up on Earth, huh?"

The question escapes my lips and sooner that I catch it I try to hide it, but as anyone knows that words cannot be unsaid. He doesn't seem to perturbed by it, however. He chuckles once and looks straight at me. "Glad to know you're finding comfort in yourself. I don't care much for all this false air business, myself."

"False air...what do you mean?"

He swivels his hand in the air as if searching for the words, "I've known a long time who's been responsible for humanities' problems and I've sat by and let the council protect me. I mentioned to you when we first met that I couldn't bare to off myself because it would have been an insult to those I've killed, yes?"

"Um..."

"Well, that's not the entire reason. I've been scared to face the judgment of those scorned. Most of all I've been afraid to confront the one who tried his hardest to make things right."

I shift and take a seat opposite of the one he'd been sitting in, resting my right leg over my left. "You mean Gavin?"

"I..." He pauses and I can see his eyes shift downward.

"I saw him in the time that I was gone."

His eyes perk up, "Wh-"

"He's...in a complicated position. I do know that he doesn't blame you for the things you think you've done. He told me he still considers you his best friend."

"How could he...?" The smallest break of a tear forms at the corner of his eye.

I take in a deep breath, "Andrew...Andy, you've lived with this guilt hanging over your shoulders for over five thousand years. Whether you were aware of it or not isn't a huge concern at this moment. I can't imagine how that can affect your mental state, but at the same time, you need to stop blaming yourself."

He looks to me, confused.

"In the past few years I've learned a lot about blame and about guilt...I'm guilty of a lot of things that I'm not proud of. It doesn't matter if I didn't remember doing it, because once I did all of the pain and suffering I had caused came into me all at once. I was crippled and didn't know how to process it all. I had to channel it into something I could do—anything to make things right. That's when I met Gavin. I was captured by Cross after our squad got ambushed, and Gavin had saved me from his clutches. He took me into a world of his own creation—a simulation—so that I could learn to work through my grief and train myself to be stronger. I...I can't in a million years claim that I've known what you've experienced how you have, but I do know that if there is anything that you can do to honor the memory of those who have lost their lives...it's anything but this."

Andrew is silent.

"It is more than unfortunate that your wife lost her life too soon. I cannot express to you how sorry I am. I'm sure she was absolutely perfect. It's more than unfortunate that those who were on Earth lost their lives, but you were not the person to blame. You were manipulated by a psychopath, and you did what you could to bring these survivors to Sayar. It doesn't matter if you needed help from Gavin to do it, because he's your best friend. You're here for a purpose, and if there was anything to be blamed for, it was to waste a chance to do something to make things right."

He takes a deep breath and turns to look at the book by his side, the cover displays an almost cartoon version of Gavin holding his hands on his head in pain. "You..." he blinks away a tear, "...you're right." He breaks a little, "I..." a tear falls and he lets out a small sound. "I had no idea Gavin was still...to think he never changed."

"Forgiveness can come to anyone, if you're willing to accept it," I say. "All it takes is the will to stand up and ask for it."

"I...want to make things right. This...is not a world I'm happy in, or happy to have been a part in creating, but you're right."

"Come downstairs, Andrew. Let's come up with a plan to make things better," I offer my hand.

He steadies his breathing, and takes it to help stand up. "One second...I just need to..." he closes his eyes.

I look at him strange as he stands still, breathing still. The book behind him begins to rise slowly.

"How..."

"I have things I can do which I stopped doing when I crawled deep into my depression. The guilt overpowered me and I chose not to use the things that made me different because I was guilty that I had all of these abilities and the chance to live."

"Living isn't anything to feel sorry about, Andrew. I'm not going to say that I have everything in my corner under control, because believe you me I'm not sure how I'm going to react when I see Cross again. But I sure as hell am going to make that a reality, because I just learned that he killed Tiburr and rules over the Garexians now? This is something we need to fix."

"I can try..." the book clatters to the table. "...I can't guarantee that I'll be able to make everything okay..."

"Just come downstairs. We'll figure out the rest later, okay?"

He nods his head, "Thank you."

Downstairs, we sit in a triangle, facing each other: Noah Marshall, Andrew Cress, and myself. It's weird seeing the three of us here together, knowing what I know, but maybe that's the way things are supposed to play out.

"So, now that each of us has our own special spring in our step..." Noah begins, "...I propose that we seriously think about looking to make our current situation not so shitty. This would include someplace to sleep that isn't emptier than Devon's love life."

I give him a look sharper than a thousand knives.

"What? Did your sense of humor die in your training?"

"No, but some topics are more sensitive than others to joke around with," Andrew says.

"Oh nonsense," he replies, saggard. "If you can talk about something, you can joke about something. Just because you remember a few things doesn't mean you change who you are, how you speak. What I'm trying to say is that we had a certain layer of teamwork before you found out who I really was, right, Devon?"

"...Yeah, I guess."

"And you're okay with working with me?"

"Yeah. We're all working for the same goal."

"Okay, so let's now say we combine those two facts, teams who work easier together are ones who get more done, am I wrong?"

"No..."

"Teams also need trust," Andrew pipes in. "Take it from me, where trust lacks, so does proper teamwork. I feel like there needs to be a clean an open air about...well, whatever we decide to do."

I lay my head against the wall and look over to the both of them. "I am going to need some time to fully give you my trust, Noah. I hope you understand. As hard as it was to remember what I did, it was just as hard to remember what you did. I can forgive you, but it's not going to be immediate."

He raises a hand, "I'm not expecting it to be immediate. I just hope that it can be quick so that we can be efficient."

"Now, this I have to ask about. What...are we going to do? I'm motivated and all, but what is our plan?" I ask.

He smiles, "There's a resistance blooming, gov'nah. It encompasses what remains of the council minus the Garexians of course. Dromedans are easily enough wiped out alone, but we rarely fight them alone. Andrew and I were actually tasked to attack a weapons base just south of here."

"Just you two?" I ask. "I'm sorry, but even with the three of us that sounds impossible, and you were going to do it with basically just you?"

I feel Andrew's eyes shift toward me.

I shrug, "Were you willing to fight before I came here?"

He lets out a sigh, "Your point is noted, but duly told to fuck off."

Noah chuckles, "I had been hoping you would show up, actually."

"Just out of nowhere three years after my disappearance?"

Now it's his turn to shrug, "Eh, what can I say? I had a feeling in my chest that a headache I hadn't had in a few years would be coming back."

"Okay, okay. Enough of the wise-business. Brass tacks here, gents." Andrew begins. "I know the lot of it, Gerau Cliff is where the weapon's base is. You know where that is, Devon?"

I shake my head, "Never heard of it."

"Okay, it's a bit more arid in climate, nothing like the marshlands around here. Think Sahara rather than-"

"I know what a desert is. I lived on Earth too, remember?"

"Just making sure. It's not quite desert, more rocky. The base is built into a cliff-side—easy way to hide from any potential thievery business."

"Built into a...just great. And how were you two musketeers planning on taking down a cliff-side base by yourselves? Why wasn't anyone else sent with you?"

"We're spread thin. Everyone and anyone who can stand has been called out, it's why grumpy-guts here's been assigned even though he had no intention of seeing any actual combat. Three years is a lot of time for Dromedans to come onto this planet and build as many bases as they can in secret. If there were more people to spare I promise you we would have them with us."

"Talk about unprepared in planning," I say more to myself.

"Well, it's not like we asked for it," Noah says. "I would have much rather we take larger groups to take bases quicker, but the vote was majority in lower numbers to attract less attention."

I groan. "Fine, whatever, we go in with fewer numbers. Is it just the fact that it is a weapons base that we're targeting it?"

"The base ain't anything large scale," Andrew begins, cracking his pasty-white knuckles, "but it would give us some momentum in pushing closer towards Potsberro."

"Garexian capital city," Noah adds.

"Ah."

"Cross ain't there, but reclaiming the city might shock some sense into the people. It'd be a hell of a lot easier of a job without them out on the prowl every day and night. Of all of the races to be turned, Cross was definitely strategic in forcing his allies. Garexians are no doubt the strongest in the galaxy, maybe only the Yeltian tribe trailing close behind, but there's so few of them left it hardly makes a difference."

"Yaldabaoth is still hanging on, right?" I ask.

"That's correct, he and Darmande have taken an offensive deep near Abu Kheppi after your squadron was wiped out."

"Wiped out...huh. That means Sen...?"

"She didn't make it out," Noah shakes his head. "Khap-Ar managed to slip away, he regrouped with me, and now he's off near the Westerwinds for medical treatment."

"Damn shame," I say. "Pamen...you heard about Pamen, right?"

"Yeah. The entire existence was just...wiped clean...like nothing ever existed there."

"Well, we need to make sure that it doesn't happen to anybody else. So, we tackle this weapons base. Do we have a plan on how we get in? I hope it's not just balls to the wall gunfire action, because my training was more concerned with strategic action rather than action movie status."

"Balls to the wall...that's a phrase I haven't heard used in eons," Andrew says. "Reminds me of an old friend," he chuckles.

"Is that friend someone to look up to, I hope?" I ask.

"Oh, no, not at all. He was probably one of the most terrible people I've ever met, but we shared a laugh about some jerk-wad we met choking on chainsaws."

"Sounds...delightful."

"Right...well, I'd sure love to give that feeling to Cross. Jerk could use some metal maintenance. Step one of that does in fact come with a plan, believe it or not, Devon. The plan belongs to yours truly, and it's all right...here." He brings out a small tablet from one of his pockets. It displays a holographic topographical map of the region—the area we're most concerned with seems to be highlighted with a red shader. "Now, as you can see here, the cliff-side overhangs a large valley due south," Devon explains. "That valley is the Westerwinds, locale of the Fal' ZäAr. Zyar Harras, councilman of the Fal' ZäAr is there now helping with medical aid on those wounded at Battarial Ground."

"Battarial Ground is a famous landmark noted for it's beautiful waters that are said to soothe any soul, but of course right now it's nothing more than a graveyard." Andrew adds. "A few months back there was a large battle there over some territory—a large arms manufacturer for the Dromedans. The base has been destroyed, and those who sacrificed their lives can rest easy knowing that they've helped the cause a million fold."

"I see, and Khap-Ar is recuperating there as well, correct?"

"Yes," Noah says, pointing toward a smallish building set into the valley. "This here is their medical facility. But as you can see, more than just a momentum point for the rebellion, this cliff-side base causes a lot of concern for our wounded, seeing as it is this close, right?" Noah says, moving between the two spots. I can see how having a weapons base so close could be concerning.

"Of course, if folk were suited for battle in the Westerwinds then it'd be no problem to have them dispatched to take care of the issue."

"I'm sensing a but here."

"Oh, well thank you very much," Noah says, chuckling. I stare at him hard. "Well, yes. You may have noticed that Fal' ZäAr aren't really the most capable species suited for combat."

"Yes, I actually was helped here by a Fal' ZäAr who was a mail man...mail...bird?"

"Parcelor," Andrew corrects.

"I...don't think that's right," I say.

"It is here," he nods, winking.

"Anyway..." Noah interrupts. "Fal' ZäArians are not going to be leading a charge on a base. So, we have to help them out before the Dromedans at that base get any orders to do anything crazy. And it is highly likely that such orders may come soon seeing as both Zyar and Khap-Ar are both within the confines of the Westerwinds."

"Right, that makes enough sense. Get in before they're able to do anything."

"So, obviously climbing up from below isn't going to be an optimal strategy," Noah says, returning to the diagram, "they'd see us from a mile away and we'd be sitting ducks."

"So how about we go from above? I'm not seeing any way to tackle it from the sides."

"Exactly...however that's of course something they've prepared for. I mean, you kind of have to when building a base into the side of a cliff. The top being your one area you can't look, it is only common sense that they'd make preparations to handle assaults from that angle."

"So what do we do?"

Andrew raises a hand, "I think I can help with that."

"Andy old buddy old pal, I think you are totally one hundred percent right on that equation."

"Equation?"

"We can't all be funny right on the first try."

I turn to Andrew, ignoring him. "What's your idea?"

"So, it's something I'm going to need to practice before we put it into place, but I should be able to teleport you guys inside."

"Woah, really?" I ask.

"The things you can do with your power suits, you know they are based on abilities that I mastered over the years, right? Waves were something I was learning to control back when I was in my twenties."

"Gramps, you look to be much out of practice out of your twenties," Noah says.

"Which is why I said as much earlier. But when I was at my peak I knew how to transport matter between places in my field of view."

"Sounds like a video game," Noah says.

"Don't get me wrong, I probably could have sent matter to things outside my view, but what if things had moved around in those places? What if say I transported a pig and it ended up cut in two because a door had been shut instead of open?"

"Ooh...ew. Yeah, you're right, sticking with field of view is good."

"I can probably get you guys in there if I get enough of a vantage point," he says.

"Are you sure? You've been out of it for quite a while...I'm not trying to tell you not to help right after telling you that you should...just curious if you're able to move those old bones," I say.

He turns to me, "I've been alive for over seven thousand years, Devon. The brittle bones phase ended long, long ago. If my bones were natural they would have faded to dust long, long ago."

"Fair point."

"I can get myself around. I just need to get back into the swing of things. I'll probably stay up tonight and work on it while you two sleep."

"We can stay up too if you want the help," Noah says.

He shakes his head, "Nah. You two are going to need to be at your top if we're going to do this. Trust me on this one, assaulting the enemy with a small amount of people is going to need your focus."

"Were you...like in the army or something like Jesse was?" I ask.

"Nah, I learned it from a video game," he leaves with a wink. "Now go on, the room up there has two beds. Go on and get some sleep while I work out some of these things I have floating around inside my head. I'll come wake you early and we can prepare to head out."

"You sure?" I ask.

"Positive. I need to do some thinking."

"Okay, you heard the man, let's go," Noah says, jumping to his feet and snatching the tablet up in his hand and stuffing it into his pocket. "I'll move the second bed into the hallway so you're more comfortable sleeping."

I move to object...but then I realize it's probably for the better. I also need to sort some things out in my head, but I respect his offering. Maybe...maybe there is a second chance in for everyone. That makes me wonder...could I maybe get Alex to see that for me...too? Sleep doesn't come easy, and when it does it is filled with meaningless darkness. Cryptic dreams about my inner psyche that I am too tired to try to even begin to decipher. It would just tell me what I already know.

I'm going to have to forgive Noah. I...want to, because I understand that I'm not really Devon anymore and he isn't really Noah anymore. We've grown into new people, and I can't fault him for the things that happened in what may as well be another life...just as he doesn't fault me for what I did.

This is all so difficult. I know that the things I did and the things he did were wrong, I don't want to make it seem like they weren't...and I don't know why things became so difficult. I just have to keep on pushing. Pushing toward making things right. Maybe we'll be able to return to our lives and make things right there, too? I'd like to go back and make up for the things I said and did to Alex...even if she never wants to see me again. That'd be okay, as long as I could end things right.

The morning comes too soon.

Andrew is still practicing by the time we get up. I haven't slept in a really, really long time, and that's because these new bodies don't require it. Of course, it isn't impossible to sleep, but hardly anyone ever does anymore since it isn't a limit on the body anymore. Andrew doesn't seem to care much for his limits; he has been lifting his book up and down for hours to get back in the use of using his abilities. "The things you can do with your power suits, you know they are based on abilities that I mastered over the years, right? Waves were something I was learning to control back when I was in my twenties."

To think that the things that I've trained for three years for...he's had thousands of years more experience than I could ever dream. He's the leader for a reason, and now that he has a proper reason for fighting, or more that he's found his reason buried underneath all of that guilt...he can truly show what he's made of.

"Hey, you ready to head out?" I ask as I grip the wall of the divider at the end of the staircase.

He turns around, shaking his head slightly, "It isn't coming as easily as I thought it would...maybe just with a little stimulation and time to practice it would all come back to me."

"Hey, don't worry about it right now." Noah says from a level up, stomping his way down the stairs. "Of course, it's gonna be a big issue if we can't find a way into the weapons base, but don't sweat it for now. We've got a few days travel before we get there."

"I don't want to feel useless is all," he replies.

"I get you, but these are things you haven't used in years. Like, longer than I've been alive and in this body times like a hundred. If you weren't using your legs for a significant portion of time your muscles would atrophy. It's gotta be the same thing. Just gonna take some time."

"That's...correct. I just feel like I'm young again, not knowing what's going to happen next or if I'll ever get good at it again. That's not a feeling I'm used to."

"You'll get used to it," I say. "We're going to be here by your side. We hardly know what we're doing, either."

"Speak for yourself, Devon."

"Thank you both. I know you've been dealing with me be way too into my own issues for the past few years," he turns to Noah, "and for even bringing me along with you when you probably could have just dumped me at the nearest shelter and gone on alone."

"I couldn't do that...it costs money to ship people there."

I elbow him.

"Anyway...I want you both to know that I'm gonna work on me. It's going to take a lot of work, but I can't call myself a leader of humankind just because I have abilities. I need to be a leader, the one I had lost so long ago."

"I'm happy you feel that way, and before we go into other mushy territory I suggest that we head out. The day only lasts so long, and the threat only increases as the days pass," Noah says, picking up his fire-starter and dropping it into his pocket.

The both of us nod, and we settle out from the hut in Gaos.