Unison (The Spheral) (50 page)

I first suspected Flora was a Six when she recalled my remarks about not wanting to return to Dome Dungeon, and now I was certain. The confirmation made no difference to me. My connection to Flora existed beyond biology and label.

“Our first stop will be the space exhibit at the Alexandrian Repository because I’m sure that’s what you’ll want to see first. You’ll hear all about the Ancients’ space exploits. They have a model of the Mars colony and the original bird flown by Callias Zane, one of the biggest heroes of the Ancient world. We’ll then go to the music library where it will take a lifetime to get through all the music that starts with the letter A.”

“Lifetime? When will we have time to eat?” She coughed.

“The cafes open at noon. We’ll head over to my favorite bistro. They specialize in authentic Ancient Greek cuisine. There’s this cheese—smells like the inside of someone’s shoes after many days of hiking, but when you mix it into a salad or with pasta, you’ll become as addicted to it as I am.”

“Can’t wait—” She gasped for air. “Not for the cheese.”

I held her hand and squeezed it. “Afterwards, we’ll go to the central park to feed the ducks. When the sun sets we’ll take the lift to the top of the labyrinth and gaze up at the Parthenon. We’ll end the night with a visit to the observatory.”

“Thanks.”

I kissed her hand.

“Don’t be sad when you think of me.” Flora smiled. “I chose to live.” Flora blinked her eyes for the last time, and then she left me, taking my heart with her.

Flora’s message was ready for playback. I sat on the bench and stared at the still picture of her, kneeling next to the lantern. I stared at her face for a moment and then pressed play.

“When you open this I’ll be gone, and you’ll want to know why,” she said softly. “After you fell asleep, my mind wouldn’t stop racing between two destinations. I can’t go back to Unity after everything I learned, and I can’t stay here because I’m not like you. I can’t start over. Too much of me was taken away. Too much that I don’t think I can ever feel whole again. This isn’t reintegration speaking; it’s me, fully aware of the action I’m about to take. The voices of Unity live in my mind and never give me peace. All I see is darkness in a world without justice, which seems impossible to deliver. I can’t bear that.” Flora wiped her eyes. “When you told me you wouldn’t stop until every Unitian was as free as you, I believed it, and I believe you’ll help free them one day. And if you’re right—that we live the same lifetime and can improve ourselves, maybe we’ll all eventually be born free. Only then will I have the strength to live and know you as well as you know me. Don’t give up, Damon. You’re our best hope for a free Unity…Love, Flora.”

I lay Flora’s body in Sephroy’s cart, and he covered her with a blanket. He placed his cane in a lower compartment. “I’m pushing.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Could use some fresh air.”

“Who’s going to watch the trainlets?”

Sephroy pointed to a spot between his brows. “Look here.”

“Why?”

“Look here,” he said louder, and I obliged.

“Now look there.” Sephroy pointed to where the trainlets used to be. They were gone.

“How did you?—”

“I never believed in miracles until I witnessed something I thought was impossible…but when I thought about it longer, it wasn’t. On the outside, I’m like you. On the inside, we’re very different. But that doesn’t make me beyond explanation.” He walked ahead.

“Why do you stay here?”

He stopped and peered at me. “We’re always where we deserve to be. This is where I deserve to be.”

When we got outside, I performed the sacred burning on the beach. Shisa whimpered and walked around the pyre, and Sephroy stared into the blaze. “Imagine living within these flames and all that exists out here is invisible to your eyes. But everyone of us on the outside sees the flames, what’s inside the flames, and the whole of this Universe, all at once.” Sephroy smiled. “We all see the same thing, and yet…we all have our own interpretation about its meaning.”

“Is that where you’re from? Outside the flames?”

“
Was
from.”

“Why would you leave such a place?”

Sephroy moved his hand near the flame. “If I could go back, I would.” He retracted his hand. “That would truly be a miracle.”

“The man who attacked me—I burned his skin with my hands. How did I do that?”

“If you don’t know, then you’re not ready to know.”

By now, I had gotten used to Sephroy’s evasiveness and took the conversation no further. We headed back to the old tunnel, and I had trouble associating his feebleness with the great powers he had.

“Why can’t you heal yourself?” I asked.

“For the same reason you can’t.”

“I don’t have your powers.”

“But you do have the power to move forward…yet you don’t.”

“This is the farthest I ever went.”

“Further towards…or farther away?” He smiled. “Ponder that one on your way to New Athenia.”

COLORS WITHIN THE PALE ILLUSION

W
ilfrid handed me his favorite chalice and poured me some wine. “It’s yours.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Michael listens to his mother and does all his chores without question.” Wilfrid handed me the bottle. “It’s because of you. He sees you as his father.”

“And I see him as a son, which is why you have to stop letting him go to the river alone.”

“I always watch out for him.” Wilfrid picked up his cards and shuffled them. He set down a three of diamonds, two of spades, queen of hearts, eight of diamonds and slowly lifted up the last card. “Ace of diamonds.” He looked at me. “You bring news.”

“And I have a gift for you.” I handed Wilfrid a holologue.

“Thank you, Nomad.” He excitedly clasped it around his wrist and waved his forearm in front of his face. “How does it work?”

“I’ll show you later. Do you keep arms here?” I asked.

Wilfrid walked over to a trunk and removed a wooden spear with elaborate etchings carved into the handle. “My father taught me how to make these. There is no greater weapon to hunt boar…or to scare the occasional bandit that dares to block my path.”

“Not a fan of the longbow?”

“Too easy.”

“How long will it take to make enough for the whole village?”

Wilfrid put the spear back in the trunk. “Why the sudden worry? Bandits have always been around, and they’re not known to strike villages.”

“That’s about to change.”

Wilfrid leered at me. “How do you know?” He sat and picked up a deck of cards. “I never got such a read—”

“I can remember what happened in my previous lives.”

Wilfrid slammed the deck of cards on the table. “I knew you were different!”

“I’m not your Nomad.”

“I’ve heard your name in my dreams for twenty-eight turns of winter’s longest night.” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “And you’re twenty-eight. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

I raised my chalice. “And I still don’t
believe
in anything that requires belief,” I said without my usual conviction.

“Perhaps you will one day.”

“Belief got me into trouble. I don’t think I’ll attempt it again any time soon. Whatever I take under consideration, I’ll have to see, with my own eyes.”

“What you see can also have more than one meaning. How will you know your interpretation is the correct one and worthy of belief?”

I answered by taking a sip of wine.

“You’ve been through a lot. Take some time to rest. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you…including myself.” He glanced at his holologue. “Michael can show me how to use this.”

I spent two days in my bungalow contemplating, drinking, crying, and cursing myself. The following seven days I spent sleeping and only got up to quench my thirst and relieve myself. On the tenth day, I had a vision. I was walking in an unlit tunnel, pushing a cart with squeaky wheels that sounded like the beating of a heart.
Squeak squeak, squeak squeak, squeak squeak
. As I neared the opening, I kept my gaze focused on the light. My breath grew louder until I stepped outside. The light was blinding and hurt my eyes. Once they adjusted to the brightness, I recognized where I was: the paradise I created when I was in a coma. I looked inside the cart and saw Flora, who opened her eyes and gasped. She vaulted out of the cart frightened, but then appeared mesmerized as she examined the surrounding wilderness. She walked over to a fern and ran her hands against the leaves and continued to touch everything around her.

“What do you see?” I asked.

Flora looked at me and started to cry. “I don’t know…but it’s beautiful.” She smiled, stretched her arms to the side and danced as she had in the middle of the rainstorm.

I awoke to the happiness on her face and sprang out of bed, waking Shisa. “She saw colors!” I couldn’t contain my euphoria and ran outside. “She saw colors!” I repeated the phrase until Michael ran over to me.

“I thought you’d never come out again.” He winced. “What’s that smell?”

I put my hands on Michael’s shoulders. “She saw colors.
That’s
why she changed her mind.”

“Think you’ll make more sense after you bathe.” Michael stepped back.

The few villagers who were outside stared at me as though I were a lunatic. I got used to that by now, so I pushed a dismissive palm toward Michael. “Appearances are only a scrape on the surface.”

“But smells aren’t.” He pinched his nostrils. “I’ll talk to you after you’re all cleaned up.”

I laughed as he walked off. I didn’t know if what I experienced was a vision or dream, but whatever it was, it allowed me to see beyond Flora’s death. She moved farther than she ever had and that was reason to celebrate.

Thirty days passed, and I grew restless. I decided to head to New Athenia to visit Holly and Lidian. Wilfrid lent me one of his horses and midway through my journey, the elation that came from my vision vanished after I rescued an infant. He lay crying beside his recently murdered parents. I took him to the next village along the trade route and handed him to a kind woman. The boy smiled in the way only a baby could. It was the type of smile that was unaware of the evil that claimed the life of his parents and the woman I loved. I left without mentioning the circumstances in which I found him.