Crossroads of Fate (Cadicle #5): An Epic Space Opera Series (29 page)

“I have no doubt.” Taelis paused. “I’ll make sure all the important information gets transferred to your account.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And Cris… I’ve come to understand why Banks was so fond of you. I trust you’ll make sure we never end up in a position like this again.”

Maybe he’s not such a pawn after all.
“Yes, sir.”

Taelis inclined his head. “Take care. The TSS is in good hands.” He ended the transmission.

Cris took a moment to let the words settle in. Banks had always talked about Taelis as though he was completely aligned with the Priesthood, but perhaps that was not the case. He might be a resource to help fill in some of the missing information about the Priesthood’s involvement in the Bakzen’s creation, but if Cris was wrong about his loyalties, he’d place himself in a dangerous position. It was a matter to investigate further when everything else was settled.

Turning to more pressing matters, he logged into the Mainframe to check the latest messages and reports that had gone to Banks’ account, since no routing had been set up to a new contact yet. Only 1,357 unread messages, all marked as high-priority.
The next few days are going to be great.

He closed out of the email application. The screen defaulted to a desktop view, and one of the icons caught his attention. It was simply titled: “For Cris.”

Banks knew he was going to his death. Were these his final wishes?
Reluctantly, Cris opened the file. It read:

Dear Cris,

You’re reading this because I’m dead. I was never much of one for theories around time dilation, but maybe these sorts of letters are a loophole.

I wish I could have said goodbye properly, except the bomaxed war had to get in the way. I spent my whole career preparing for other people to enter the fight, so I suppose it’s fitting that I go out this way defending our home. I hope it worked—but then again, you wouldn’t be reading this if it hadn’t.

I want you to know that you were the only son I ever knew. You were my family and despite all the secrets I had to keep from you, you were always my most trusted friend. I hope that the coming peace is every bit as wonderful as we’ve dreamed it to be. Enjoy every moment you share with your loved ones and cherish those times. Learn from my mistakes and live with no regrets.

Life is complicated. I didn’t always know what the correct action was, but I’m confident you’ll figure it out. I have sealed some information for you that will unlock when the time is right. I entrust you to the safekeeping of my legacy.

Give Wil, Kate and Saera my regards. Perhaps we will all meet again in another lifetime.

- Jason

By the end, Cris’ vision was clouded and his throat tight. His path may have been designed by the Priesthood, but Banks had made the TSS Cris’ genuine family.
Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. I owe you my life.

“Wil, please say something,” Saera pleaded from the doorway of the bedroom.

Her husband didn’t so much as glance up from writing on his tablet as he sat cross-legged on the bed. He’d been furiously typing for days with no indication about the nature of the project.

Whatever person Wil used to be was buried somewhere deep. On the rare occasion he did look at her, she sensed only pain and sadness in his gaze. Gone was the love, the desire, the excitement to be in each other’s presence. It would be easier to live with a stranger than to watch him deteriorate without explanation.

“What are you working on?” she asked again, expecting silence.

“Someone else needs to know,” Wil replied.

Surprised, she almost choked on her own breath. “Know what?”

“The truth about the Bakzen.”

Very few people knew yet about the Priesthood’s involvement. The members of Wil’s Command Center crew were the first to put the pieces together after the final battle of the war. They’d gone to Cris as the most senior officer, but Saera was the only one with the insights to fill in the missing pieces when they asked; by that point, she had no reason to deny anything. The war was already over. No sentiments of the morality of their actions would change the outcome.

Even as word spread within segments of the TSS, there was an unspoken understanding that the information was sensitive. In particular regard to those who’d spent their whole careers—given their lives—to the Jotun division, divulging that all the fighting had essentially been a civil war against their divergent Taran kin would only result in heartache. There were too many nuances to explain or justify. All that mattered for the present was that Tarans could begin to recover. No more resources dedicated to endless fights, no more raids and threats of attack. They could begin rebuilding, and hopefully make it a better future.

“What are you saying about the Bakzen?” Saera asked.

Wil paused his writing. “The facts, or as close to fact as records indicate. I suspect the Priesthood will attempt another data purge. I don’t want the rest getting lost.”

“We won’t let it.”

He stared at his hands. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to see it through myself.”

At the risk of him shying away from her as he had since he first sent her away, Saera moved to her husband and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. Up close, he was noticeably thinner and pale compared to his usual self—worn from lack of sleep and a poor appetite.

Cautiously, she reached out her hand toward his. To her relief, he allowed her to take it. A spark passed between them. Her heart leaped; their connection was still there, even if he was ignoring it.

“I would do anything for you,” Saera murmured.

“I would for you, too.” Wil looked away again.

“So come back to me.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“So explain it to me,” she urged. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Saera, you’re perfect. You’ve given me far more than I deserve.”

“After what you’ve been through? You deserve anything you damn well please!”

He scoffed. “You have no idea what I’ve done.”

“You won the war, just like they wanted.” She rubbed his hand. “You’re a hero.”

“Do you know how many people died because of me? I’ve been trying to add it all up—”

“No, don’t even go there,” Saera interrupted. “That is not a line of thinking worth pursuing.”

“I need to tell the whole story. I need to put it in perspective,” Wil insisted.

“What good will any of that do? It won’t bring them back.”

“At least they won’t be forgotten.”

“They won’t be,” Saera assured him. “Word of the war is going to spread whether or not people know the whole truth. To move forward, they don’t need depressing details about the past that can’t be changed—they need leadership and inspiration. They need someone to show them a new future where we can be united rather than divided—where leaders put others before themselves.”

“I’m not that person, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“You are!”

Wil scowled. “I’m far too selfish.”

“After giving your whole life to others?” Saera asked, incredulous.

“There are some things I could never give up.” He paused, taking her other hand in his. “I could never put anyone else before you.”

For an instant, his hard façade opened and the love in his touch was there again. Saera reached out to him through their bond—tantalizingly close to the fulfillment she’d been thirsting for since he’d first shut her out. But the wall was already back. “What about yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you put yourself before me?” she clarified.

“I would try not to.”

All the bitterness within Saera rose to the surface in one unstoppable wave. “Then maybe you should start thinking about my feelings rather than wallowing in whatever misery you’ve brought down on yourself. You promised to be there for me, so get over whatever issues you’re having and start being my partner again!”

Wil sat in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry,” Saera hastily added. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, you did,” Wil cut in. “And you’re right.”

“I—”

Wil retracted his hands. “Let me finish this up.” He went back to work on his tablet.

I’m not sure if I got through to him or just pissed him off.
Saera rose from the bed and headed toward the door. “Are you going to Banks’ service tonight?”

Her husband took a slow breath. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“I’ll see you then.” She left him to his writing.

*       *       *

Dressed in his TSS formal uniform, Wil made his way up to the TSS spaceport for Banks’ memorial service. There were few events that could have pulled him from his quarters, but honoring his lifelong friend topped the list.
With any luck, I can sneak in unnoticed.

His plan for a stealthy entry was dashed the moment he stepped out of the elevator to the surface port, where he found Saera waiting for him.

“Good, you are here,” she said. “Your father decided to have the service on one of the transport ships, so we could be near his resting place. There’ll just be twenty or so of us, and we’ll broadcast to the rest of the TSS.”

“I wasn’t expecting something so intimate.”

Saera gave him a faint smile. “Do you really think he’d want us to make a big fuss over him?”

Wil shook his head. “No. This is more fitting, you’re right.”

They took a shuttle up to the main spaceport and then walked in silence to the transport vessel.

Cris, also dressed in his formal uniform, greeted them at the top of the gangway. “Hi, Wil. I’m glad you came.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”
At least, for once, loss will be on everyone else’s minds, too.

Twenty other Agents were already gathered in the main cabin of the small ship, seated with two on either side of the center aisle.

Kate, seated next to Scott Wincowski, beckoned Wil and Saera to two empty seats on the other side of the aisle from her in the front row. She gave Wil’s hand a light squeeze as he passed by, concern evident on her face as she looked him over.

“I’m okay,” he murmured to dismiss her silent inquiry, and then quickly slipped into the window seat.

Saera sat down next to him and took in the crowd behind them, exchanging a respectful nod with the Agents who were old friends or past mentors. “Looks like many of the senior Agents are taking a break from the field to be here.”

Wil stared out the window at the nearly empty spaceport. “Banks touched a lot of people’s lives. Repairing the rift can wait.”

Two minutes later, a low rumble resonated through the floor as the transport ship headed to the place where Banks had sacrificed himself to save Headquarters and Earth. Wil’s chest constricted as they approached the location, sensing a faint trace of energy still lingering from the rift corridor.
Banks gave his life to the war, yet here I am alive and doing nothing. It should have been the other way around.

Thrusters maneuvered the ship into position, and the rumble ceased when the engine cut out. Earth was visible out Wil’s window, and the moon dominated the view out the opposite side of the craft. It all seemed so peaceful now that the threat had passed.

Cris walked to the front of the ship along the center aisle and turned to face the group, fixing his gaze on a camera at back center of the cabin. “Thank you all for joining us as we pay our respects to Jason Banks, our longtime High Commander and friend. I’ll keep this brief, but I wanted to take a few moments to reflect on not only this one death, but the many losses we have suffered in the war. Banks was more than just a friend to me—he was truly family. More than anything, when I hear people discuss the TSS, they reflect on the fact that the TSS community is one big family of individuals working toward a common goal. When we lose one of our own, we have lost a part of ourselves. But, we are still united, and together we have shown that we can make it through anything.

“While engaged together in the fight against the Bakzen, we each needed to do things that pushed us to our physical and emotional limits, but we can be thankful that we made it through alive. I think it’s important to recognize that those actions we took during the war do not reflect on who we are as individuals—or as a community—but rather were the result of necessity.

“Now, with our shared goal of defeating the Bakzen completed, we have the opportunity to reimagine the TSS as an organization where Agents’ abilities aren’t used for combat, but rather for peace. That is the future we have all envisioned at one point or another, whether it was ever verbalized or not. We were fighting with the hope that an era would arrive when we could live without fear of attack or persecution. We’re halfway there, but even with the Bakzen threat eliminated, we still have a long way to go before we can consider ourselves to be on equal footing with the rest of Tarans. There has long been a divide between those with abilities and those without, but my hope is that in the peacetime to come, we can begin a reintegration.

“So, let us not dwell on what we have lost in the war, but rather what those sacrifices will enable us to achieve in the future. We have been given a great gift: the chance to start over and shape our own destinies. To honor all of those who have fallen, we must make the most of that opportunity. It is our duty to make sure that those lives weren’t given in vain.

“As I address you now as a new High Commander of the TSS, I give you my word that I will work toward that new goal of peace across the Taran worlds, where those with abilities no longer need to hide.” Cris paused and swept his gaze across all of those in the room, lingering on Kate. She nodded. “To begin that process,” Cris continued, “I will state for the record a fact that has been danced around since I first joined the TSS three decades ago. If you were watching the advancement ceremony for my son, Wil, to Supreme Commander, you heard him introduced as Williame Sietinen. So let there be no mistake: I am Cristoph Sietinen, heir to the Sietinen Dynasty. My wife, Katrine Vaenetri, and I have committed our lives to serving Tararia. For now, that is through our roles in the TSS. I hope to lead by example and show that those from all walks of life can be united and walk together as equals. That is the future we were fighting for in the war, and by achieving that goal, Banks and all of our fallen comrades will live on through that enduring peace.”

Applause filled the small craft, but Wil was too absorbed in his own thoughts to hear the follow-on comments. He doubted anyone in the shuttle would be surprised by the formal announcement of his family’s lineage, but it would certainly be a popular topic of conversation within the TSS in the coming weeks.

As soon as the shuttle docked with the port, Wil returned to his quarters while the others stayed behind to swap memories over drinks. He sat in quiet contemplation, reflecting on his father’s words and the future at hand. Eventually, Saera returned and went to bed for the night. Though Wil joined her in bed, sleep was elusive.

He stared up at the ceiling in the dark, listening to the sounds of Saera’s soft breathing next to him as she slept.

Words from Banks’ funeral replayed in his mind.
Duty and honor… I can’t be a leader and just allow myself to waste away. I owe it to Saera—to all of them—to get through this.

Yet, guilt was consuming him from within. It gnawed at him during every waking moment and brought nightmares when he did manage to sleep. TSS soldiers, Cambion, the Bakzen, the hybrid clones—there was too much loss to process, and he had a hand in it all. Moving past it seemed like an impossible task from his current vantage. Except somehow, he had to. He needed to try to be the leader everyone saw him to be. His father was right: the fight wasn’t over yet.

The war didn’t kill me—not all the way. I need to reconnect with what’s left of myself.
He took a deep breath. The problem was, there was no way he could possibly come to terms in his present surroundings.

So many memories filled TSS Headquarters. Even the bedroom that had once been a sanctuary for Wil was now a prison. Everywhere were the smiling faces of those who thought him an infallible champion. Every time he had to put on the mask hiding the dark truth of what he’d sacrificed, a little more of him died inside.
No one can know what I did at Cambion. Especially not Saera.