CHAPTER 11

Things fade back into the hallway of the medical storage room. It doesn't seem like any time has passed. Thank God. You don't know if you can handle waking up after passing out anytime soon. Jesse turns back to look at you. You must have stopped walking because he gives you a weird look that almost asks "What's up?" You shake your head and give him a smile, he looks back ahead and you catch up to walk right beside him. You don't know how you managed to convince him everything is okay because your mind is like a whirlwind right now. You remembered that Devon had ADHD, but the memories didn't tell you that. You also remembered that he got himself into some kind of trouble, but didn't remember what. Up until now you didn't know what that kind of trouble could be, but now you have more than enough doubt it has to do with that Noah Marshall. And you were a part of it too.

How stupid must you have been to join into a cult? It wasn't like you believed that your sister was out somewhere in the vast edges of space anymore, surely Devon confirmed that talking about the miscarriage. So why then did you keep talking to that man who should surely raise a ton of red flags? Why did your parents let you go? Well, actually that one you can probably guess they didn't know the full extent of Mr. Marshall's lessons. And it's possible your mother was so distraught with everything about your father dying she may not have noticed you staying out later than normal.

The thing that confuses you the most is Devon. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see how much he was wrapped in that. You can give yourself the benefit of at least being wary and hesitant through that process, even if you did eventually cooperate. He seemed to have no such hesitations about offering up his friendships. Did he follow through on that promise? You don't know, but you want so badly to go back and stop you both from making such stupid decisions.

You're broken out of your reverie as you come to a stop at a large window looking into a hospital room. It seems to stretch far past your view point on both sides. Beds line the room front to back. On them are bodies of all kinds of sorts in varying degrees of completeness. The one closest to you seems to be a Yeltian who is bandaged all the way down its body. Its eyes are closed and you hope at the very least it is just sleeping and not in any pain.

"This is absolutely crazy," Jesse begins. "I don't know the full scale of the attacks, we'll need to wait until we get reports of how the rest of the city is faring, but this is something else entirely. The twelve colonies haven't seen this much destruction in a long time."

"Is Pandera just one of those colonies?"

"Yeah, it's the capitol of Sayar as a neutral meeting ground for all races. The environment around is positive for each of the races to spend an ample amount of time in. The other colonies are more specific for each race."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you specifically as a human can squat in almost any environment without any hazards to your health, but not everyone is like that. Psarcians for example can't deal with extreme heat. If the water in those sacks on their bodies dry up it's game over for them, so the deserts to the north of Pandera aren't really an optimal place for Psarcians to visit."

"Really? That's all it takes to kill them?" You ask.

"Not sure if I'm digging that tone," he says.

"No, that's not what I meant at all," you say.

"Well, that water is what fuels their body for doing basically anything they do. That's why they'll only take temporary stays to Pandera or somewhere where water isn't as prevalent. They dry up without it and their corpses are nothing more than statues by that point."

"Wow, that's crazy. What about Sarkon? Doesn't he need that to not die?"

"The Capitol building has...er, had an ample amount of stored water free for any Psarcian traveling to Pandera. He'd use that during his stay here to remain hydrated."

You nod your head and he looks back out to all the wounded. "I want to help each and every one of them, but I know that I alone am unable to help so many people in need. After all, I'm just a guy who reads a lot of history."

"That's important, though. Back on Earth we had a saying, Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it," you tell him.

He looks back to you and smiles, "Those are wise words."

"Thank you, I totally stole them."

"But you knew when to say them and how to help someone with them, that is enough credit, is it not?"

"I guess I can agree with that," you say.

"You know, Alex, at first I didn't seem much into believing you. I may have sounded different, but I've been working this job a long time and it was getting to a point where I almost lost sight of the impossible. Does that make sense?"

"Not really."

"I told you I like the crazy. The what ifs of the world. Truth is that I did like them, and somewhere along the doldrums of work and tirelessness of an everyday life I lost that wonder. It wasn't until I met you that things began to change."

"What was so different about me?" You ask.

"Really? Do I have to even say it?" He laughs.

"Right...well, I'm happy I could have been of help to you."

He smiles. "Now, I know it hasn't been officially mandated, but I think considering the circumstances the charges against you are dropped."

"That's good. I mean, I still feel like shit for what happened, but I'll do what I can to make up for what I've done."

"Excellent, because I'd love it if you would help me help these people."

"You really want my help?" You ask.

"I think they need it to be honest."

You look back out to the rows and rows of wounded. "Okay, I'll do it."

"Great. Thank you so much," he says, letting go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Well, why don't we head back to the bunker and make that call," he says.

"Sure thing."