Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation) (38 page)

Eventually, Perry knelt down in front of Brandon and offered his condolences. At some point, the other three members of Aston crew stopped by and did the same. Brandon only nodded in response each time.

As the trip went on, the seating sections near Brandon’s became quiet as well. They must have gotten word, or maybe everyone was just tired and resting. It didn’t matter to Brandon. He just kept staring at the screen, watching the stars go by. Maybe one of those stars out there was Jack somewhere. Brandon thought he might have even dozed off and slept for a few minutes here and there, but he couldn’t be sure. He probably did.

Near the end of 20+ hour flight, an Amulite who Brandon didn’t recognize stepped into his seating area. He seemed like he was looking for someone, and began glancing back and forth at Brandon and Mip7. Brandon leaned forward.

“Can I help you?”

“You are the pilots from the damaged ITF1 in the hangar?”

“Yes.”

“Here. We found this in the ship. It belongs to one of your crew.” The technician handed Brandon a manual or book of some kind that was charred all over the outside, and was flaking off burned pieces of pages.

Brandon accepted it and thanked him. After the technician left, Brandon opened it and saw that it was Jack’s drawing tablet—or what was left of it, anyway. Most of it was burned and destroyed, but there were a few sketches that survived. Brandon spent the remainder of the flight looking at them.

Chapter Eighteen

“No, man.” Derek kept shaking his head. “You’re not getting it. A level-headed guy like you should understand what I’m saying.”

“I understand,” Brandon said. “I just don’t agree.”

“Let me put it another way, then. Things wouldn’t change if you had the chance to do them over again, because you wouldn’t have the knowledge you have now. You would only have the knowledge you had back then, so you would do the same thing in the same situation again. Everybody would. So everything would happen again the exact same way as before. That’s why nothing in the past can ever be changed.”

“But that wouldn’t be doing it over again,” Brandon argued. “So it’s a moot point you’re making. It would only be worthwhile to go back and have a do-over if you had the knowledge you have now to go back with, so you could change the way things happened.”

“Exactly my point, man, moot or whatever. You don’t get to do that, so regrets are a waste of time and energy. You only know what you know at the time you know it, so wishing you had a chance to do something again wouldn’t make any difference even if you could. Everything must happen the way it does because nobody can see the future yet. There is no alternative, man. For all we know, time is like, not even in order.”

“Like Slaughterhouse Five,” Brandon  said.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Brandon rubbed his temples. “All right. You win, Derek. Only because this conversation is getting my brain all mucked up, and I need to think about what I’m going to say. So, no offense, but I’ll meet you up there afterwards, all right? I need a little space to gather my thoughts.”

“You don’t need to practice, brother. Just talk from your heart. I’ll see you after.” Derek started walking up the grassy hill.

Brandon decided to walk up the paved pathway that ran alongside the steep drop-off. It was a nice day. He could see that a crowd was beginning to gather on the hilltop, which made him a little nervous.

The view was quite beautiful from up here. A partial outline of Banor hung in the hazy blue sky, and down below the fledging Earth colony could be seen. The Earth colony appeared as one large building from this distance, modern and clean-looking with lots of blue-green moriglass windows. It reminded Brandon a little of a typical condominium complex back on Earth, except for the odd-shaped structures. All the individual residences were attached on at least one side, and there were centralized community buildings for recreation. They said it used to serve as temporary housing for students of the nearby university. There was plenty of room for additional residents, which would hopefully be coming soon. Right now, however, it was empty. All the Earthmen were either up on the hilltop awaiting the ceremony, or on their way up.

Brandon meandered along the path and took in the sights and smells as he climbed. There was a garden between a small wooden fence and the drop-off. Exotic flowers emitted a fragrance reminiscent of tart cherries. Birds of various sizes and colors hopped between the vines, flowers, and bright shrubbery. It had a calming effect on Brandon’s nerves, so he stopped there and rehearsed for a bit while gazing at the Earth colony.

After a few minutes, Brandon glanced back up behind him. The crowd was getting larger. Grass covered the entire hill on the right side of the pathway. Not blade-type grass, but flat clover; small, lush, and dark green. It immediately sprang back after being stepped on, leaving no trail. This was one of the nicer places Brandon had seen on either of the Torian twin worlds. It really was very much like a cemetery back home, except there were no graves.

A lone figure in a cloak stood halfway up the hill on the side path ahead of Brandon. Apparently, someone else was also enjoying the view. Brandon recognized him as a Sheen and planned to pass right by whoever it was, respecting their solitude while still seeking some of his own. When he got there, however, he was winded and needed to catch his breath, so he stopped for a moment. The Sheen turned and faced him. It was Nunon4.

“Oh, it’s you,” Brandon said. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Tulros, Brandon. I am happy our paths have crossed again in such a pleasant manner.”

“Yes, pleasant this time,” Brandon said, “even if the occasion is a sad one. Nunon4, I want to thank you for doing this. Your words are poetic. It means a lot to me.”

“Poetry on your planet must be undemanding, but I am happy to provide any services I can. Are you also prepared?”

“Not really, but my friend thinks that may be best.”

Nunon4 nodded politely.

“Let me ask you something,” Brandon said.

“Of course.”

“My friend and I were discussing the plausibility of time travel, or at the very least having the opportunity to go back to a prior point in one’s life and make different decisions. He thinks nothing could be changed, so all events would happen exactly the same way again, that the future is therefore set as the past is, and there is no possible altering of events. I disagreed with him, but perhaps my motives are biased, as I still feel somewhat responsible for the death of my crewmate.”

“The future is not set, but the past is,” Nunon4 said. “Your friend is correct about the past. The future can be altered, however. Although, this is an interesting topic, because prophets can see events in the future that will come to pass.”

“Then how can it be that the future is not set?”

“The prophets have the ability to see the consequences of actions which will be chosen by others. They cannot see everything, only certain pieces, those pieces which will be, and at other times they can see potential consequences, alternate events which may or may not occur based on other’s decisions. It is all alterable by the present time, but the prophets can sometimes see what actions and decisions will ultimately be made. Therefore, it is reasonable to say that specific pieces of the future will come to pass with all certainty, and although they remain alterable by the present, they will not be. This is the great lament of the prophets.”

“I guess that’s your way of saying being a prophet isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Understand,” Nunon4 continued, “it is folly to wish for an altered past. If this were possible, the physical dimension would not be stable, and all reality could vanish or transform at any moment. But to entertain the concept briefly, every event in a person’s life leads to where they are at the present. If a single minor detail were altered in one’s past, they would not be where they are now—perhaps they would not be here at all, or would be in a much less desirable situation. We have seen that all things tend to work together towards the benefit of the wise, and events that are undesirable at the time usually end up playing a significant role in the eventual promotion of wisdom.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Brandon looked to the hilltop, where the crowd was now even larger. Many were sitting in portable chairs or on the grass itself. “We better get going.”

Nunon4 nodded and placed a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. They walked out on the clover and began climbing the hill together.

“Being unprepared is never wise, Brandon, but the preparation of the heart is more important than the preparation of the mind. The heart transcends dimensions, but the mind is destroyed and left behind. I believe you are prepared and will do fine.”

His words aroused Brandon’s interest. “Do the Erobs teach of a further existence, after the death of the physical body?”

“We believe in a continuance, yes,” Nunon4 said. “Erob principles teach that a fool continues in folly, however, and the wise continue in wisdom. It is why we stress balance so much, and place the highest value on setting one’s heart towards seeking wisdom as opposed to wallowing in folly. The potential consequences are severe. We have no specific details on continuance or dimensional transcendence, and believe the pursuit of such would be folly. There is only so much the physical mind can grasp here. When one’s heart is aligned with wisdom, we believe it points them in the direction of Erob, and properly prepares them for whatever lies beyond.”