The Quiet in Between: 3/3

One-Word-A-Day Writing Exercise: Sci-Fi Story

I'll post one word a day (completely random, using a computer program). Please send me your ONE sentence using that word or what it evokes (the word does not actually have to be in the sentence). You can post it in the comments section, or privately message if you'd rather not have it public. Read what happens below.

March 3, Refocus

From time to time, everyone should refocus on what is truly important in your life.
Sometimes it's hard to admit that you have to refocus.
Standing still in the path of a charging lion, it was hard to believe that all she had to do was refocus to change the reality, but that's just what the ninja-hippie-badass-zen-warrior-princess did.
Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but also the ability to start over.
Fight or flight?
After switching to sub-light speed on the new, state of the art "Victoriant" class attack vessel of the Votilian fleet, the captain needed to refocus the ionization beam to avoid dispersal radiation that might endanger civilians.
It takes seconds to make the wrong decision.

Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but also the ability to start over. Sometimes it's hard to admit that you have to refocus. But from time to time, everyone should refocus on what is truly important in their lives. It takes seconds to make the wrong decision, perhaps even nanoseconds. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? It kept going through her head. Standing still in the path of a charging lion, it was hard to believe that all she had to do was refocus to change the reality, but that's just what the ninja-hippie-badass-zen-warrior-princess did. She closed her eyes and traced the memory-lines of her mind. Click. Like a machine, gears turning on, one on top of the other. Click. Click. Click. After switching to sub-light speed on the new, state-of-the-art "Victoriant" class attack vessel of the Votilian fleet, the captain refocused the ionization beam to avoid dispersing radiation that would kill millions of civilians. She positioned her vessel parallel with the horizon and sent the beam directly in front of her until it faded into the darkness. N a n o s e c o n d s. That was all it took to make her decision, to stop her lion. Today, she wasn't a hero, a princess, or even a girl. Today, she was a captain, a badass captain, and she just took flight. She fought back.

March 4, Frailties:

A baby, a wounded animal, an old man near death.
Her mother laid there frail and weak from the pain of the sickness.
Are the most fragile things in life always the most precious?
Breakable.
A loud structural boom heard during transit caused a bead of perspiration to form on her head.
When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep walking.

It wouldn't be long now before they contacted her. They'd want to know if she'd completed her mission. A strategic mission, they told her, a necessary one. One that required a princess as the trigger. She froze. Just as she came out of hyperspace, she realized it too late. A loud structural boom heard during transit caused a bead of perspiration to form on her head. She grabbed her gear, hit the release button and shot out into the night sky. Her parachute opened immediately almost strangling the breath out of her. Are the most fragile things in life always the most precious? An innocent baby, a wounded animal, an old man near death. As she fell, it was that conversation that she had with her mother that kept replaying in her mind. It was a riddle, her mother said. Are they fragile, or are they precious? Her mother would never tell her the answer. It was in a winter that went on too long, and at the end of it her mother laid there frail and week from the pain of the sickness. The sickness would go on to take more than half of her family, but it was the stench that she couldn't get out of her head. It was that stench that overwhelmed her now. It made her miss her mother. It made her frail and breakable. As she waited for the impact of the ground, she wondered if, in fact, when people fall down in life, they can get right back up and keep on walking.

March 5, Commemorate:

Remember the people who loved you.
I commemorate the many precious memories I have had with my family members throughout my life.
I commemorate my birthday with a drink.
She decided then and there to commemorate the day every year thereafter by lighting a candle and shooting it with her plasma gun.

She lifted up her legs to brace her fall, but when she hit all she felt was wetness around her. She landed in water. She could already feel the heaviness of it trying to pull her down. She reached for the parachute's clasp and released it. Then she reached back for her pack, pulled out her light and turned it on. There was water everywhere, and no land in sight. She dug back into her pack and felt for the capsule that encased the raft, a small raft for this exact situation. When she finally crawled onto it, she collapsed, and let out a deep breath, trying not to panic. In situations like this, she was taught to remember the people who loved her; to commemorate the many precious memories she's had with her family members throughout her life. When she was little she used to love running barefoot on the hot pavement in the rain. She liked how the texture was warm and slippery and breathable. Her younger brother used to follow her right up into the doorway but he never went outside with her. When he was five he saw lightning kill one of their horses and he never recovered from it. He always made sure to find her, though, when it rained. She thought it was because he enjoyed watching her dance around happily in it, but she found out years later that it was mortifying for him. He did it, he told her, because he wanted to be there to warn her when he saw the lightning come. They only talk to each other once a year now, on her birthday. Afterwards, she would commemorate her birthday with a drink. Today, she decided then and there to commemorate that day every year thereafter by lighting a candle and shooting it with her plasma gun. Tomorrow was her birthday. Where the hell was her plasma gun?

March 6, Evasive:

She hid her true feelings because it made her vulnerable.
It's time to take evasive action.
Being evasive could lead to unfavorable consequences.
Thinking through all of her options, led her back inevitably to the one she was trying to avoid.

"You'll do this?"

They always liked to ask her when they gave her a command. She was only a captain, but she was still their princess. "You're sending me over there to kill millions of innocent people."

He didn't look up. "I'm glad you understand the mission at least."

"Is there no other way?"

He got out of his chair, and walked over to the window before he answered her, "Perhaps I should send someone else."

Perhaps you should, she wanted to say, but she didn't. She hid her true feelings because it made her vulnerable. "No, I'll do it." She answered. "I'll take your test."

He smirked. "Test? A test of what, Princess? Your skills? Your bravery?"

She tried not to waiver as she answered him, "Of my intentions, sir, and it's Captain."

"No one will know it was you," he assured her, "Captain."

But you will know, she thought. She saluted him and walked away. Thinking through all of her options, led her inevitably back to the one she was trying to avoid. Of course she would do it. It was always a test, a gauntlet of tests. When would she not do it?

Before she turned the corner out of their sight, the Colleague stepped over to the Admiral, "You know she won't complete the mission, right?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that she accepted it." He paused. "When you have a princess under your command, you are always exposed. It's time to take evasive action."

"Being evasive could lead to unfavorable consequences."

"What other kind are there?" answered the Admiral.

"And the King?" asked the Colleague.

"He's been in mourning for so long. What's another martyr in the family?"

March 7, Wits:

Stumbling back, she looked up to see what she bumped into and promptly lost her wits.
The sky became so dark, but she did have wit enough to come in out of the rain.
I try to use my wits to be witty.
Wit? Or Fear?

She felt motion, forward motion. She opened her eyes. It was bright. She must have passed out. She slowly pushed up on her hands and peered over the raft. It was a canoe, a small little canoe with what appears to be a young boy in it, dragging her raft across the water. She must have floated closer to land where he could spot her raft. He may be a young boy but he could still be dangerous. She had to get on the defensive quickly. The element of surprise was her only weapon at this point. As he approached the shore, he slowed down and jumped out to pull the canoe onto the beach. As he pulled her raft closer, she maneuvered her body weight to one side and flipped it. She dove under and swam towards him, grabbing his legs and pulling him under. She pulled his right arm behind him and throttled his neck in a strangle hold. He squirmed and the water made him slippery, but he was not very heavy so she was able to keep him down on his knees. She didn't know what to say except,

"Where am I?"

"What?" he shouted back.

"Where am I?"

"You're in Olin."

Olin was about 100 miles from base. She pulled him out of the water. He was tall and it was difficult to walk backwards with him. She slipped on something and lost her balance. She let go of the boy's neck and reached behind her, touching something solid. Stumbling back, she looked up to see what she had bumped into and promptly lost her wits.

She heard the familiar cocking sound of a plasma gun, and froze.

It was a man, a much older man. He didn't look at her. "Let's go," was all he said.

She walked a short distance to their house. It was small, with its backside facing the beach and the front towards a forest. She could overtake the man, she thought. As they reached the entrance, she stopped abruptly. It didn't even phase him. He walked right past her into the house.

"You're welcome to stay out here, if you like, with the rain," and as he said that, the sky suddenly became so dark that she had enough wit to go in out of the rain.

He turned on the light. He looked over at her and stared. She could tell he knew exactly who she was.

"Jon, I send you out to get fish for breakfast, and you come back with a captain from the Votilian fleet."

The boy looked over at her like he'd seen a ghost, "You know me, dad," he responded, "I always try to use my wits to be witty." But she saw it on his face. Was it wit? Or fear?

March 8, Belligerent:

I'm tired of you being belligerent with disrespect towards your...
I wanted to go mortal kombat in that moment but something in my gut told me I may be over-reacting.
She chose her words carefully, hoping to neutralize the hostile situation.
He scoffed belligerently.

Before she had a chance to respond, the man grabbed a platter of meat from the counter and placed it on the table.

"You're probably pretty hungry," he challenged.

She didn't even realize how hungry she was until he mentioned it.

"I don't eat meat," she replied.

"Must be nice to get to choose what you'd like to and not like to eat." He tossed her a loaf of bread.

She caught it and set it aside. "I need to get back to base. Do you have a communications prompter?"

"We don't communicate with the fleet here."

She didn't hesitate, "Then perhaps you know someone who does."

He scoffed belligerently. "I know how you fleet people like to think that life begins and ends with the fleet." He picked up a paring knife and started peeling an apple. "But we don't care too much for your kind, even if you like to wear your bravery and your courage on your sleeves like badges of honor."

She was getting tired of him being belligerent with disrespect towards the fleet, but she was battling her own issues with them now, so she let it go. Then he added, "And you royals, well, you like to play games with our lives."

So he did know who she was after all. She wanted to go mortal combat in that moment but something in her gut told her she may be over-reacting. As a princess she was taught to decipher the noise, to get to the real issue, to listen for what lies beneath the roar. She looked around the small room and then she saw it. It was about two-feet long and tied in the quatrum slip-knot technique, a technique taught only to fleet members. The rope was draped discreetly next to the lamp in the far corner of the room. Someone else may have missed it altogether.

She chose her words carefully, hoping to neutralize the hostile situation, "My father recently passed a decree stating that deserters are no longer to be hunted and killed."

He was quiet. He got her message. "My nephew will escort you back to base."

Just then she heard footsteps approaching behind her.

March 9, Confidante:

She desperately needed someone to talk to.
It feels so good to talk to a person you can trust not to judge you or size you up.
Always your confidante.
Contact with Jameson was a good idea since he was the one confidant she knew of in this sector.
She was so confidante in her beliefs and committed to this knowledge.

Dear Iris,

It feels good to talk to someone who I can trust not to judge me or size me up. My doctor has confirmed that the sickness is starting to integrate with my system. She said that my best chance for survival is to be implanted with a Colleague. Their immortality should sustain my system until a cure is available. She believes it will be soon. She is confident in her beliefs and committed to this knowledge. I know how you feel the Colleagues. My only hope is that this will give me time so that I may meet everyone again one day.

Always,
Your Confidante & Friend

-----

Dear Iris,

I have told my mother about my decision to become a Colleague. She is inconsolable. She desperately needed someone to talk to, so I told her she can talk to you. Please be kind. I leave in the morning before dawn. I'll be at Pier 19. Please remember they are always prompt.

Always,
Your Confidante

-----

Dear Iris,

I had hoped to see you. Your suggestion to contact Jameson was a good idea since he is the one confidante I know of in the Sector. The training is rigorous. I have lost count as to how long I had been here.

Always, Your

-----

Dear Iris,

I am afraid. The implantation is tomorrow.

Always,

-----

Dear Admiral,

The deed is not done. The princess is still alive.

Your Confidante,
the Colleague

March 10, Exquisite:

My wife's beauty is as exquisite now as on the day of our wedding in 2002.
You are exquisite.
You should check out all of the exquisite furnishings from Bali, Indonesia.
She had exquisite taste, especially in regard to workmanship in the works of art.

The nephew was tall and lanky. He looked about her age, but she wasn't quite sure. He moved almost lyrically across the room. She was mesmerized, rather uneasily, and she wanted to say, "You are exquisite."

"I am Ben," interrupted the man, "and this is my son Jon," gesturing to the boy.

"And your nephew?" she asked, keeping her gaze on the figure that had just walked in.

"You can call him Ever."

At that moment, the nephew spoke to the uncle, "You should check out all of the exquisite furnishings from Bali that I just brought back." He continued like a song. "His wife's beauty is as exquisite now as on the day of their wedding. She had exquisite taste, especially in regard to workmanship in the works of art."

It was a poem. It was empty, hypnotic, and it made her dizzy.

Just then, Ben touched Ever's arm, "It's ok. She's friendly."

She felt immediately like herself again. It was like a cloud had lifted off of her brain.

She'd only ever met an Echomancer once in her life; when one was brought in to help her mother pass on to the other side. They were soothsayers, trancers, magicians of sorts. She thought all Echomancers were female.

When she finally spoke, she was scared, "I'm not going anywhere with him."

He didn't speak, but when he looked at her, she saw in his eyes that he was as old as the oldest days and as young as the youngest boy's dreams. Then he averted his eyes, and she saw that he was just the tall and lanky nephew again.

March 11, Obligation:

This service is a obligation which gratitude is due.
It was tearing me up inside, I felt obligated to tell him the truth.
What are our obligation, as mother, to our children?
"I'll try", she said, "but I'm under no obligation to deliver."

The Colleagues were a non-corporeal race, with a collective conscience. Some referred to them as an energy force. Others likened them to spirits. They were immortal, with no birth and no death. They can live within one host or they can live within millions. They were logical, stoic, and unaffected. Then came the sickness.

It would kill millions of humans before the Colleagues finally revealed themselves. They offered those who were sick an opportunity to suspend their impending, painful deaths in return as hosts to the Colleagues. This service was an obligation, in which gratitude was due for both parties. The humans and the Colleagues would work together to find a cure.

At first the humans welcomed it. But in the beginning they did not fully comprehend what it meant when the Colleagues informed them that the host would no longer be conscious. The Colleague would consume the host, replacing it with the its memories, its life-force, its immortality, and its collective conscience. The human consciousness would be in stasis, waiting unaware.

The uprising came in the form of a mother's love. When the newly hosted daughter received a request to give her mother a simple kiss, "I'll try," she said, "but I'm under no obligation to deliver." It sparked a fury in the mother that spread faster than the sickness itself. "What are our obligations, as mothers, to our children," she roared. Soon the Colleagues found themselves engaged in a war. The Votili and their heartbroken king would choose to defend the Colleagues. While the Arduans and their liberators would take arms against them. What the Colleagues failed to share was that it was them who brought the sickness upon the humans.

When the collective found the Colleague who had revealed the secret to Princess Iris, they only asked why. "It was tearing me up inside. I felt obligated to tell her the truth." The emotional dissidence was an indicator that the sickness had now begun to penetrate the Colleagues themselves.

March 12, Recharge:

That is when we need to recharge with a deep breath and maybe a tear or two, than smile.
Get that hyper drive recharged!
Got a new battery for the Jeep.
I definitely need to recharge after this week of hell.

She definitely needed to recharge after this week of hell. It started with the Colleague's "news". Why he chose her to tell it to was a mystery. Her brother was the diplomat. She needed to talk to him, and she needed to talk to him in person. But then the Admiral sent her on this suicide mission. And now, she's riding in a jeep along the backroads of the Olin countryside with an Echomancer who she doesn't trust and who she was quite afraid of.

Ben convinced her, if you can call it that, to let Ever escort her back to the fleet after all. "He's not really going as your escort, he's going as my vehicle's escort." It was an antique, but it was the only vehicle they had.

"I just got a new battery for the Jeep," Ben warned her, "so I want to make sure I get it back intact."

Ever had yet to say a word to her. If she didn't know what he was, she'd have thought he was just going to be excess baggage, someone who would need her protection. But she knew Echomancers weren't the ones who needed protection.

As they drove, she finally had a moment to reflect. When she got back to the fleet, the Admiral would know she's still alive. And the Colleagues, they were probably the ones who orchestrated her mission in the first place. She should have acted faster. She needed to talk to her brother. He was at the Plexium trying to forge an agreement with the Arduans; even a shaky agreement was better than nothing. The Votili and the Arduans were fighting on the same side, weren't they? For the Arduans, it was an ethical issue to let the Colleagues in. For the Votili, it was an emotional one, and the only choice they had to find a cure. She didn't care for the Colleagues, and in light of what she knew now, she cared for them even less. But the Arduans were out for annihilation, and in the process they were killing every human that had been implanted. Now it was only a matter of time before the Colleagues would retreat. If they were the ones who brought the sickness, then they may be the only ones who could find a cure.

It was getting too convoluted for her. Perhaps it's time to remember what her mother had once said: Sometimes we have a bad day and it's hard to believe that things will change and get better. That is when we need to recharge with a deep breath and maybe cry a tear or two, then smile.

"I hardly think you're the type of girl to cry."

It was jarring and it shook her out of her thoughts. She looked over at Ever. "Are you?" he asked.

She was still too surprised to say anything, but he went on, "I think it's time to get that hyper-drive recharged." She looked ahead. Coming straight at them was a black hovercraft carrying the emblem of the fleet, and more specifically, it was a favored vehicle of the Colleagues.

March 13, Virtue:

Somebody's gotta defend your virtue!
The theological virtues are faith, hope and charity.
She rose up out of her stance, and walked away certain the fact that she hadn't killed him was one of her virtues he'd appreciate most in another life.
Patience is a virtue.
I thought he was admirable in the way he handled himself after enduring emotional and physical defeat.

His name was Renford. When he decided to become a Colleague, she left the consulate and joined the fleet. He was her oldest friend, her confidante. She saw him from time to time. He had become an advisor to the Admiral. She no longer visited with his mother. They both had moved on.

"Stop the car," she told Ever, catching sight of a 3-foot long nylon rope in the back seat.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

She grabbed the rope and wrapped it around her left hand. "Just wait for me in car."

She jumped out and headed towards the hovercraft. It stopped just short of hitting her.

It waited. It needed precision. Then he stepped out. He looked like Renford, but he seemed taller somehow and more menacing, less conflicted, and almost inventive.

"The Admiral sent me to fetch you," he said.

"Are you sure it was the Admiral who sent you?"

"You can tell your friend to turn around. I'll take you back the rest of the way."

Renford used to talk about theology all the time. It helped with his nightmares, he said. He believed that the theological virtues were faith, hope and charity. "Patience," she used to tell him when she made him wait too long for her arrival, "is a virtue."

"Do you know anything about patience?" she asked the Colleague.

He didn't engage her. He just waited.

The thing with the Colleagues was that even though they were strong, fast, and extremely resilient, they were still confined inside a human body, subject to its weaknesses.

He waited. She knew she couldn't go back with him. She needed to go see her brother, and the Plexium did not allow for any Colleagues to enter, but she also needed communication with the collective. She loosened her fingers around the rope. She needed to detain him.

"Your friend," he finally said.

She charged at him, wrapping the rope around his neck like a garrote, hoping to strangle him. He threw her onto the car, grabbed her throat and squeezed. She felt herself slipping away.

Then she heard the plasma gun release, and she pulled the Colleague out of the way. It barely missed them. He was stunned. She quickly rose up out of her stance, certain that the fact that she hadn't killed the host was one of her virtues he'd appreciate most in another life. She rushed him and knocked him out.

Ever was standing a few feet away with the plasma gun in his hands.

"I said wait for me in the car!"

"Well, somebody's gotta defend your virtue," he barked back.

"And stay out of my head," she hissed.

When Renford told her that he was sick, she didn't know what to do. She wasn't sad. She didn't comfort him. She thought it would be admirable in the way he'd handle himself after the emotional and physical defeat. Then he told her he was going to become a Colleague and take them up on their offer to prolong his life. He was a theologian, after all. He needed more time. She never told him how scared she was for him. She never went to say goodbye.

March 14, Credible:

The lawyer had to prove he had a credible witness.
She was certain in her belief of his credibility.
The credibility of your witness is in question.
Repeat to me the sequence of events and I'LL be the one to determine if your credible.

When the inquisition began, the Arduans just wanted to know what happened to the human consciousness when the Colleague took over the body. "Where did it go?" cried one Arduan liberator.

The Colleagues answered logically, if not cryptically. "You do not understand that if we were to reveal where the consciousness have gone, then we would be neglecting our responsibility to our hosts. We have to ensure that they have a safe trip back when we have left." Sure enough, for the ones who have been restored, the procedure was painless. They came back fully intact, still sick, but intact.

Still, the Colleagues were summoned to explain their process under scrutiny. When the doubtful humans were not satisfied with the Colleagues' explanation, the Colleagues offered them the opportunity to partake in the process in a safe and controlled environment. The problem, though, was that when the humans returned, they had no recollection of where they had been.

Then in a turn of events that dismayed everyone, even many of the Arduans themselves, the Colleagues were put on trial. Families of humans who had become hosts began to sue the Colleagues. Lawyers demanded answers as to where the consciousness have gone. Again, the Colleagues repeated what they have been telling the humans all along. Soon witnesses were questioned, as well. Lawyers had to prove they had credible witnesses. Yet, the problem remained that the witnesses could not remember where they were while they were in stasis. One distraught lawyer was so certain of her witness' credibility, she became hostile in court, "Repeat to me the sequence of events and I'LL be the one to determine if you're credible!" Eventually, judges would no longer hear such cases but only wrote back, "The credibility of your witness is in question. CASE CLOSED."

While the litigators were running their kangaroo courts, the liberators were corralling the masses into a frenzy. It became a fight for the soul. "How do we know they are safe?" was the slogan that blared across the news media. For the peaceful ones, it was a due diligence request; for the extremists, it became a crime against humanity, against religion, sacrilege.

The Colleagues' search for a cure was put on hold. Humans by the thousands continued to get sick and die. It was in the heart of one very scared, young woman--who had been brought out of stasis early by her liberated mother--who would fire the fatal blow that would start a war. She walked up to the beloved liberator and asked "Would you save my life or would you save my soul?" Before he had a chance to answer, she aimed for his head and took him out with one shot.

The Colleagues did not understand the implications of a soul. Did they have one?

March 15, Door:

The height of the door is 7 feet tall.
She slammed the door shut.
The door, permanently rusted into a slightly ajar position, allowed just enough of an opening to view the occurence.

It was a reoccurring dream he used to have all the time. He was going up the path of a mountain, but everyone else was going down. When he reached the top of the mountain, there was a door facing him. The height of the door was 7 feet tall. It looked like one half of the door was black and the other half was white. But when he looked closer, he realized that one half was in the light and the other was in the dark. Then he realized that he himself was traveling on the dark side, while everyone else was in the light. The door had two door knobs, one on each half. A woman opened the door from the other side and walked out. She slammed the door shut. She walked passed him and went down the mountain. He proceeded to the door on his side and opened it. It opened a fourth of the way and stopped. The door, permanently rusted into a slightly ajar position, allowed just enough of an opening to view the occurrence.

When he became sick, Renford told her that he stopped having dreams and nightmares altogether. He never told her how bad it got, only that if being cured meant that his nightmares would return, then he would have to choose to stay sick. It confused her when he chose to become a Colleague.

"Can you read him?" she asked Ever.

"I don't read Colleagues," he said, "I read one once by mistake, and it took me quite some time to recover."

They had tied up the Colleague and put him in the back of the Jeep. He was still unconscious, which was surprising to her because the Colleagues were hard to take out but even harder to keep down. She once saw a Colleague come out of unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. She checked his pulse and it was still beating. They were quickly approaching the Plexium and she needed to talk to the collective. Plus, she needed to figure out a way to get him into the Plexium without being detected.

She reached back to poke him a couple of times, but nothing happened.

"I don't understand why he's still out," she said aloud.

"Did you ever think that perhaps they wanted us to capture him," said Ever.

"What?"

"I don't doubt your abilities as a highly trained fleet officer, but to my knowledge, it's pretty hard to capture a Colleague."

She thought about it momentarily, but if that was the case then the Colleagues had a plan and they've never made a preemptive move in terms of the war before.

She reached back again, but this time she started searching through his clothes. She was looking for the communications prompter. Despite her gut feeling, she needed to talk to the Admiral. What she would say, she wasn't quite sure yet.

Suddenly the Jeep came to a full stop. "Captain, it looks like you're going to have to get ready to say goodbye to your friend sooner than we think."

Lights were blaring and two Plexium service cars were hastening toward them. They had reached the city limits faster than she had expected.

The intercom came on as the cars came closer, "We'll escort you the rest of the way."

Ever put the car in drive and followed them slowly. "You want to dump him out here?"

"No." She couldn't leave him behind. The Plexium agents would detain the Colleague, but she could at least come back for him later.

When they reached the city limits, they drove up to a door. It was wide enough for two cars to pass through, but it was only seven feet high. One half of the door was painted black and the other half was white. Ever stopped the car several feet in front of the door. The Plexium agent walked up to her. "When you go through the door it will detect if you have any Colleagues with you. Are there any Colleagues in the car?"

Before she could answer, Ever said, "No, sir."

"Proceed."

As he drove the car through the door, she held her breath. The last thing she needed was for her brother to come down to the courthouse to get her because she was caught escorting a Colleague into the city. Then she thought at least they won't have missed their yearly conversation on her birthday.

"Your car is cleared for entrance. Welcome to the Plexium. Enjoy your stay."

March 16, Felt:

He felt his heart skip a beat.
It was a nice accent piece that the hat she was wearing was made from felt.
She felt pain.
He felt it was a fitting death.

The Admiral sat across from her. She looked more frail than she did from the last time he saw her. Her hair fell in loose ringlets just below her shoulder. He thought it was a nice accent piece that the hat she was wearing was made from felt. It was a hideous hat, but it took the attention away from her thinning hair, her once thick raven hair. He saw her hands shake as she reached for her drink. He saw that she felt pain as she lifted up the cup to her lips. She spilled a bit of the drink as she took a sip.

"I have summoned for an Echomancer when it is my time to go."

He felt his heart skip a beat. "I think that's premature, don't you?"

"I think the premature thing is to be unprepared."

"I don't understand why you just won't let the Colleagues help you."

She didn't answer. It was an old conversation they have had, one that had been withered into nothingness where repetition was more painful than silence. She looked away, distant and disarmed. The Admiral's wife was a healer, not a doctor, but a healer. She dealt with the spiritual and earthly realm. She believed in the world around her, not the world in between the living and the dead. She had no use for stalled time. "If I am not happy with the life have made now, then I won't be happy for the life that waits for me when I return." He had called her selfish, ridiculous, and even murderous, but she would not relent.

In the end it was fear and not love, like he had thought, that required him to make the decision that he made. He grew wary of the war. He tired of the Volitian king's inaction and the prince's diplomatic quest. He wanted to annihilate the Arduans and their ridiculous liberation. He needed the Colleagues to find a cure. The princess and her vulnerable position was an easy target. It was a sacrifice that imbued several favorable outcomes: a mission that would kill millions of Arduans, a princess at the helm would mean that the royal family would be implicated and diplomacy would be lost, the Arduans would strike back and kill the princess, and finally the king would give the order to strike with unforgiving force against the Arduans and end the war. He knew the princess would not complete her mission, and so he manipulated her death.

When the Colleague told him that she had survived the "accident," the Admiral requested his assistance to retrieve her. The Colleague had become his advisor and his confidante, but he could not reveal himself completely to him. He found that the Colleagues were not dubious, but they were neither loyal either. He felt it a fitting death for the host of his current advisor to die while with the princess. He knew they were childhood friends. How poetic, he thought, given his own situation with his wife--one sick and one not, separated by the thinly veiled line of love. If they should die, shouldn't they at least die in the presence of a loved one?

The Colleague's hovercraft exploded just miles outside of the fleet base. The Admiral contracted Keepers to go after them to make sure that the princess was indeed dead. At the same time, he sent another fleet officer to complete the mission that the princess had failed. He liked the thought of a million dead Arduans. Perhaps it would be enough to make up for his one dead wife.

March 17, Stranger:

The stranger was attractive.
You should not get into a car with a stranger.
Enter as a stranger, leave as a friend.

"Did you do that?" she asked Ever.

"Wish I could take the credit, but I can't trick machines," he replied.

He drove several blocks away from the entrance then turned onto a side street and parked the car. Neither of them said anything but it was obvious that they were perplexed. Finally, Ever spoke up, "It's possible that when they are unconscious, the machine can't detect them."

Possible, she thought, but unlikely. This only meant one thing: the Colleague was gone.

Restoring the human was not hard, but it wasn't easy either. The Colleague would need another host to move into. It wasn't inside the princess. It didn't seem to be inside Ever. Perhaps there was another host inside the hovercraft. She didn't check. The few restorations she's seen were hardly unnoticeable. How could she have missed it?

"Let's get to the Nexus and find my brother," she instructed. Ever did not start the engine. He just stared straight ahead. "Ever?"

He turned to look at her and she saw the other Ever again, the older, more frightening one. He said, "You do not know me. You should not get into a car with a stranger."

She got out of the car. She pulled Renford from the back seat and walked into the nearest building. The closest door had a sign that read, "Ever More." She rang the doorbell and a woman answered the door. The stranger was attractive. She smiled and said, "Enter as a stranger, leave as a friend." She handed Renford to the woman. Just then she felt the cloudiness lift again, like when she was back at Ben and Jon's house on the beach. She grumbled under her breath. She was quite certain she was going to hurt Ever when she saw him again.

"You realize Keepers are after you, don't you?" The woman's voice was clear and smooth, icy, not like Ever's, which was warm and dizzy.

"I am at an unfair disadvantage, aren't I?" she asked the woman.

"We don't trick the unwilling," the woman replied, "but these are unscrupulous times, and you need all the help you can get."

She didn't want to believe that the Admiral would send Keepers after her. Would he take a contract out on her life, reduce her to a royal pawn like she had never wanted to be?

"You need to understand something, Princess," continued the woman, "you cannot bring your friend and what you know about the Colleagues to your brother and just dump them at his doorstep."

The woman pointed to Renford, who was lying down in the other room, "There's a reason why your friend is here, and a reason why the Colleagues told you their secret."

The princess was angry, "I am a captain in the Votilian fleet," she said "I would appreciate it if you addressed me as such." She paused, then added, "I haven't been a princess in a long time."

The woman looked at her disapprovingly, "Perhaps it's time to be a princess again, CAPTAIN. It sounds like your friend is waking up."

She heard shuffling from the other room. When she walked in, Renford was already opening his eyes. She positioned herself in front of him like a presentation. She saw that his pupils did not have the glowing halos of the Colleague's mark. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. "Hi Renford," she said, trying to smile. What would she tell him?

He only stared at her, and then asked, "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

March 18, Watchmaker:

I wanna be a watchmaker when I grow up!
But more importantly, she's a watchmaker.
The watch which was belonged to her Grandfather, was so special to her and it took the watchmaker a considerable amount of time to repair.
Without a watch around ones wrist, it feels like time does not exist.

Before Iris had a chance to respond, the door opened from the opposite side of the room. A woman entered. She was wearing an oversized trench coat with a belt tied around her waist, a baseball cap, and goggles. The metal clashed against each other in her backpack as she shuffled across the room. Both Renford and Iris couldn't stop staring at her. She stopped in front of the older woman, planted a kiss on her cheek and proceeded to take off her outer layers. Iris averted her eyes, shook her head, and thought, another Echomancer. Iris turned to look at Renford, and he was transfixed. She felt emotion clenched in her throat.

The older woman walked over to Renford. "I am Leyla," she said holding out her hand, "and that is my niece Nirra," pointing to the woman who had now removed her coat but kept her goggles and hat on. She was beautiful and tiny, with dark ruffled hair. She tied it in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Her skin was olive, wet and dewy. Everything about the way she moved was desirable. She was rhythmic and fulsome. Iris felt sick like she was going to throw up. She wanted to grab Renford and just run out, but she needed to sit down. Her legs buckled and she passed out.

When she opened her eyes, Ever was standing over her, smiling.

"You have to be careful around Nirra," he said, "She has that effect on people."

Iris pulled herself up, feeling disoriented again. "I think," she muttered, lunging at Ever, "we need to figure out some kind of safe word or better yet, you guys just need to stop whatever it is that you are doing."

"Sorry," Ever grimaced. "I won't do it anymore. I mean, not unless I have to."

"It doesn't matter," replied Iris, "We're leaving, and it won't matter anymore. Thanks for getting us here--what happened to you anyway?"

"Keepers. I had to distract them."

Iris didn't have the energy to discuss the Keepers. She had to orient herself with what was happening in her current surrounding. "You need to tell me what exactly is going on, Ever, before I deck you."

"Does that mean you'll still deck me after I tell you what's going on?"

She glared at him. He backed off and pointed to Leyla, "That's my aunt," and then he pointed to Nirra, "and that's my sister."

"Great," Iris mumbled, "A family of Echomancers."

"My aunt's not an Echomancer," said Ever, "neither is my sister."

Iris was confused, "But you just said your sister had an effect."

"Yeah, she's kind of like a siren. She can't really turn it off. But more importantly, she's a watchmaker."

A siren was a woman who can overpower people with her beauty and comeliness, an intoxicating elixir of suggestive ability. It was not something Iris wanted to experience again. "What makes her being a watchmaker so important?"

"Because you have a watch that needs to be fixed," answered Ever, putting out his hand.

Iris reached into her pocket and pulled out an heirloom watch. The watch, which belonged to her Grandfather and was very special to her, took the royal watchmaker a considerable amount of time to repair. When she received it back from the watchmaker, she was so happy, she thought "I wanna be a watchmaker when I grow up!" She didn't think it had broken again, but when she looked closer at it, sure enough, the hands were no longer moving. She was just about to hand it over to Ever, when she stopped herself. "You said you wouldn't trick me anymore."

Just then, Nirra approached her. "Without a watch around one's wrist, it feels like time does not exist." She took the watch from Iris' hand. "A broken watch is useless, even if it is sentimental."

Iris watched Nirra repair the watch in a matter of minutes. When she handed the watch back to her, all Iris could say was, "Thank you."

Nirra turned to Leyla and said, "The countdown has begun. The fleet officer has completed his mission, and the Colleagues will be leaving soon."

Iris was very confused, but she didn't have time for double-talk. She walked over to Renford, who was still mesmerized by Nirra. She pulled him up and was starting to exit when Nirra said, "You should have him checked out by a doctor. See if he's still sick."

Iris stopped and turned around. Nirra had taken off her goggles; around the pupils of her eyes were glowing halos. The Colleague smiled back at her, reluctantly.

March 19, Face:

Let's face it...
Get out of my face!
She turned her face upward to feel the warmth of the sun.

When it first happened, Nirra was excited. But she soon learned that being a Siren, a seductress, a temptress was far more frightening than it was exhilarating. Both men and women lusted after her, and both reviled her. Nothing was honest. She often found herself shouting "Get out of my face!" to the many intruders that approached her. She worked strenuously and diligently, and eventually managed to contain her abilities, but by then the loneliness had already set in.

When Nirra found out she was sick, she knew implantation was not an option for her. In fact, she was looking forward to passing on; death would bring a new life, maybe a kinder one. She had watched her mother, her father and then her older sister die from it. It was becoming a family tradition. Her Echomancer brother walked each of them through to the other side. Ever was seven years old when their mother died. When her sister finally passed on, Nirra watched Ever perform his ritual without question, without fear, like death had ingrained itself into his very ether and soul. She felt frightful for her little brother. Who would walk him through to the other side when it was his time to go? She couldn't leave him all alone. Ever cried when she told him that she was going to be implanted. It was out of joy.

Most humans with supernatural abilities were either too proud or too afraid of what they themselves were, or too suspicious of what the Colleagues were, to become hosts. For the most part, it was no different for them than for any other human, but every once in a while there were anomalies. For Nirra, that anomaly was a fusion of the two species. She remained conscious with the Colleague, while the Colleague's presence enhanced her Siren abilities. The Colleague delivered on its promise to suspend the progression of the sickness. But because she remained conscious, the Colleague was severed from the collective, communicating with it only when summoned, similar to being in solitary lockdown. Nirra and the Colleague were together but separate, each detaching from the other when needed, allowing Nirra to live in the Plexium undetected by machines.

After the implantation, the loss of control over her abilities forced Nirra to become even more of a recluse. She interacted only with her family and soon developed an obsession with watchmaking. Time became her friend and her colleague. As for the Colleague, it was mostly silent; she felt its presence but they rarely communicated. She tried to communicate with it once, but she found it preferred the silent crevices of her quieting mind. It was a stranger within her, its lingering presence amplifying her loneliness.

When the Colleague informed Nirra that they had found a cure, she was indifferent. Let's face it, she often thought, in her altered state, in the abysmal depth of her soul, she only found more deepening despair. A cure didn't mean much to her if it only meant a return to the way life already was for her. She needed something better, she needed to forget. When they revealed the process to her, her heart skipped a beat, the broken pieces animated, working their way back together. The cure would mean a wiping out of her memory. The sickness was a virus, the human had to be rebooted, and the memory removed. With hope, she turned her face upward to feel the warmth of the sun.

March 20, Constant:

This particular individual required constant supervision.
You were supposed to be my constant.
The constant chatter hurt her ears.

They were not dissimilar, just complementary. Renford believed in better tomorrows. Iris believed in the gnarled remains of the everyday. He had faith. She had broken things. He was supposed to be her constant. Then he got sick, and he took her constant with him.

The Colleague came closer and Iris saw a bit of fear in her eyes. Nirra looked different too, a bit wilder and uncontrolled. "May I touch him?" she asked.

Iris felt protective and threatened at the same time, "I don't think so. You, or she, or whatever you are did this to him. You think I would let you touch him?"

"We can't control her abilities," the Colleague said not backing down, "We are partnered with consequences. But your friend there, it's important that we check him to make sure he's well." There was a pause, and when she spoke again, it was Nirra. Her voice was quieter, remorseful, "I won't hurt him."

So she was right, thought Iris, the Colleague was no longer in Renford. But why? Surely, it did not leave just so she could get him into the Plexium. What could have inspired them to do this? Renford was not ready. She was not ready. She held on to Renford while the Colleague inspected him.

"What is she doing?" asked Iris, not to anyone in particular.

Leyla answered her, "She's checking for the remains of the Colleague. They need to make sure that it is completely gone."

In her rush to leave, Iris had forgotten that Leyla was still in the room. "How can they leave remains?" she asked her.

"It's not a flawless process," said Leyla, "My niece is a perfect example of that."

Nirra stepped away from Renford and the Colleague said, "It is done. I will be leaving soon." Iris felt that the last part of that sentence was not directed at her.

She addressed the Colleague, "He's back completely?"

"He's cured."

"What!" she exclaimed, "You've found a cure?"

The Colleague turned to face her, and it was Nirra again. "They have, but it's complicated."

"What do you mean it's complicated? Either they have a cure or not."

"They have a cure," Nirra assured her, "but it requires a sacrifice. That's where you come in." Nirra looked at Renford and continued, "You have to get him to your brother, and you have to convince your brother that the cure is better than the sickness."

"Look lady," Iris was getting impatient, "if you don't cut to the chase--"

Nirra's voice was stern and cold, "They have to remove the memory cortex to get rid of the sickness. Your friend won't remember you. Nobody will remember their lives before they were cured."

Iris was silent. Before she could say anything, she heard a loud thud, then crunch, and things tearing apart. Something reached in and grabbed Renford out of her hands.

Ever yelled, "Keepers!"

"I thought you said you took care of them!" she yelled back.

"I said I distracted them!" he returned.

Iris snatched Ever's plasma gun from his holster and ran after the Keepers. She could hear Ever right behind her. When she reached outside, the Keepers were already halfway down the block. Renford was dangling from the arms of the Keeper that grabbed him. She saw that he was fully aware and struggling to get free. She aimed at the Keeper and shot several times. It grazed the Keeper, causing it to turn around and come after her. She wouldn't be able to take it out. She just needed to hit it at the right spot so it would release Renford. She shot again. The Keeper swerved, getting closer. She shot again and hit her target. The Keeper released Renford and he dropped to the ground hard. The second Keeper was right behind him and the first Keeper was almost to Iris. She didn't know what Ever did, but whatever he did, it got Renford on his feet and running. He moved fast, and he reached Ever quickly.

"Get him out of here!" she shouted to Ever, as she ran in the opposite direction.

The Keepers followed her. They were big and clunky and hard to take down, but not very agile. They were machines so they regenerated quickly. They were called Keepers because when they were assigned a task, they kept it until it was completely finished. They traveled in pairs.

She ran down a tight alleyway, hoping that she could use its space against them. Then she heard shots. Great, she thought, running while ducking was not one of her best attributes. She turned around and shot back. She hit the closer Keeper, knocking it down. The second one vaulted over it and continued after her. She turned down another alleyway and saw a guardrail at the end of it. She picked up speed, scaled the guardrail and jumped down onto a very busy freeway. She didn't look back. She just kept running until she was far enough to turn around. She didn't see them. They were gone, for now. She ran along the freeway a bit longer, continuing to check behind her. She needed to think, but the constant chatter of the vehicles were hurting her ears. When she reached a clearing, she turned away from the freeway. All she could think was: she never expected that the cure could be worse than the sickness.

******

This particular individual required constant supervision, but the Spektor knew that the Admiral was her way in. She needed someone with authority, someone with power, someone with conviction. She would reveal to him the truth about the sickness and he would hate the Colleagues. Then she would kill his wife, and he would seek to destroy the Colleagues just as she herself did. Finally, she would implant herself inside him and wage a war against the Colleagues, finishing the revenge that she started when she bioengineered the sickness and transported it to the humans, hidden inside the Colleagues themselves.

March 21, Magnetic:

People call me magnetic.
It was a magnetic attraction.
The magnetic force pulled him closer.

Ever ran after Iris without even thinking. He saw her target the Keeper and shoot. She missed but got him a few shots later. The Keeper dropped her friend Renford onto the ground. Ever stopped. He needed to move him fast. He concentrated intensely on Renford. C'mon move, he thought, just move. Renford pushed himself off the ground, and ran. With a slight of his hand, Ever pulled him like a rope, faster. It was a magnetic attraction. Renford almost floated toward Ever.

Iris yelled, "Get him out of here."

Ever and Renford ran away from Iris and the Keepers, heading back toward his aunt's shop. When they reached the shop, his aunt and Nirra were packing up, getting ready to leave.

"We can't leave without her," Ever stated.

"You need to get him out of my presence," Nirra said, looking at Renford, "and the princess will be just fine."

"She likes to be called captain," Ever corrected, "and I'll wait for her."

His aunt interjected, "Nirra's right, Ever. She's going to be fine. We should get out of here before the Keepers come back."

Just then, Renford, who had been mostly inanimate, headed towards the back door, yelling, "They're back!"

They all rushed out of the shop. Ever led them to his uncle's Jeep. The Keepers weren't far behind. Ever put the car into drive and sped away. Ever grew up in the Plexium so he was familiar with the streets and adjoining arteries. He maneuvered them quickly until he was sure that he had lost the Keepers. Then he slowed down and drove toward the waterfront. He liked being close to water. It felt safe.

Suddenly Renford jumped out of the Jeep and walked away from them toward the sidewalk. Ever stopped the car, and jumped out. Renford was throwing up when Ever reached him.

"Look," Renford said when he was finished, "I don't know who you guys are. I don't know what's going on. I don't know anything so I think I'm just going to leave."

"And where are you going to go?" challenged Ever.

Renford didn't think Ever was going to say anything. He was hoping that he'd just let him go. "I don't know. Anywhere away from you guys and those big metal things is probably a good idea."

Ever muttered sarcastically, "People call me magnetic for a reason." He continued, "Go ahead. I'll just tell your friend that you left. I mean, it's not like she can tell you who you are or anything. She's just your friend, that's all."

Renford looked at him sideways. What do you do when you don't know what to do? Who do you trust? They did just help him get away from those metal things. "OK. But--" he said looking towards the Jeep.

"Yeah, I know," replied Ever. He knew Renford was talking about Nirra.

They walked back to the Jeep, with Renford trailing several feet behind Ever. Nirra and his aunt Leyla were already out of the car. Nirra walked across to the opposite side of the street. She had her full gear on again. She looked ridiculous, but Ever knew it made her feel safe. It didn't make her abilities any less effective, but it cloaked her enough so that she felt anonymous. It was her superhero costume.

"We'll find our way to the Nexus." said Leyla, "Can you get him there?"

"Of course," Ever replied. "But I'm going back for Iris."

"Fine," Leyla answered, "Show her everything."

Leyla was a seer, a psychic. She saw what was coming, but like the future often did, it came in bits and pieces, changing with each action and inaction.

Ever watched his sister and his aunt walk away. His family had always been "otherworldly." Someone called him that once, and he preferred it to words like "magic," "gifted," or "sorcery." He liked otherworldly. It made him feel homeward bound. Everyone was afraid of him the most because Echomancers were supposed to be so powerful. But mostly, he felt awkward and out-of-place.

Renford got in the car. Ever started the engine and sped off along the freeway, re-routing back towards the shop. Iris couldn't have gotten too far.

"So, you don't know me?" asked Renford, opening up a conversation. Ever couldn't read him. He was an empty slate.

"No," replied Ever, "I just met Iris today myself."

"And Iris? She knows me?"

"Yeah, like I said. You guys are friends."

Renford thought about what it meant to be a friend. He didn't even know what that was.

"A friend is someone who you trust," said Ever, "someone who helps you."

Renford was silent for a moment, then turned to Ever and said, "Then I guess that makes you a friend."

Ever didn't have too many friends. He liked knowing that Renford could be one. "I guess so," he replied.

Ever spotted Iris running along one of the side streets towards the freeway, but he drove passed her so he had to circle back. He honked the horn as he sped towards her. She ran faster towards them. Rounding the corner were the Keepers. He stopped the car abruptly. Iris jumped in as he started reversing, but it was too late. One of the Keepers jumped into the air. The magnetic force from the car pulled the Keeper closer. It latched onto the Jeep. Iris shot at it but it didn't budge. Ever swerved the Jeep and slammed it into a pole, hoping to knock the Keeper off, but it held on. The Keeper clawed the hood of the Jeep, crawling towards them. Then Ever saw Renford stand up, positioned himself closer to the Keeper on the hood. He reached into the Keeper's chest, yanked out its power source, and tossed the Keeper overboard like a rag doll. The power source, which was still lit and functioning, was dripping a pulpous neon blue liquid onto Ever's uncle's Jeep. Iris grabbed it from Renford's hand, threw it in the air and shot it into pieces.

Ever was surprised to say the least, "Wow! I didn't see that coming!"

Renford was shocked, and just sat back down with the gooey liquid still stuck to his hand. Iris was silent from the back seat. Ever drove towards the Nexus.

They rode quietly for a bit with only the wind whistling through the car. Finally, Iris said, "Ever?"

"I know," Ever answered, pulling into an empty lot and parking the car. "So," he asked Iris, "Do you want me to tell you, or would you rather I show you?"

"Show me?"

He took that as her answer and reached for her hand. He showed her everything that his aunt had shown him. Everything that could change. Everything that could fall apart. Everything that did in every possible way. When he was done, Iris fell back into her seat. She held her breath and looked into the distance.

"If you want," Ever managed. He wanted to give her some good news, "I can show Renford your memories of him. That will restore some things."

Iris looked at Ever. Then she looked at Renford, who was staring right back at her. She was exhausted and stated, "What difference would that make?"

*********

Under the Admiral's orders, the fleet officer reluctantly fired the ionization beam, killing millions of Arduan civilians. It was late afternoon. Several of the Arduan liberators were due to meet with the Votilian prince later that evening.

Earlier that afternoon, the Colleagues restored the first human with the cure fully applied to his system. They felt it was viable. When they removed the memory cortex, the sickness followed it like a moth to a flame.

March 22, Atlas:

She used an atlas to find her way home.
Use the atlas to get us there.
I don't know how to read an atlas.

Ever started the engine and drove off towards the Nexus. Time was ticking, he thought. They still needed to get the cure to the prince. Iris needed to convince the prince that the cure was better than the sickness. Neutralizing the war depended on the prince's cease-fire agreement and the eventual peace treaty. Ever looked at Iris in the rear-view mirror, "Iris, you know what you have to do, right?"

Iris knew that the Admiral was a ruthless man, but she thought that he was a reasonable man as well. She was naive. She was sure that the mission was just a test for her. Once again, she was too busy trying to prove herself that she didn't see the ramifications of her actions. She should have just went straight to her brother. In fact, she should have went to him a long time ago, but she did not have an aptitude for her royal responsibilities. Her ineptness and irresponsibility now led to the death of millions of innocent people.

"They will crucify my brother," she said.

"We still have a chance, Iris. We still have something to offer the Arduans."

"They are fighting an ethical war, Ever," she argued, "You don't think that they would find it unethical that the cure required the removal of our memory cortex? And imagine what would they do if they found out that the Colleagues were the ones who infected us in the first place?"

"I have faith that you will not reveal that last bit," Ever returned, "and that the Arduans have enough heart to understand the difference between asking for help and actually accepting it."

Iris didn't have faith though. She only had the many possible futures that Ever just showed her. It was also obvious to her that he had already chosen which future he preferred.

At that moment, Ever asked again, "Iris, you know what you have to do, right?"

She didn't answer him. She just looked at Renford. He could walk her through it, she thought. Fear was uncomplicated for him. There were no grey areas, no outside the box. "People react because they are afraid," he told her once, "you have to be better than your reaction. You have to catch it."

"I need to catch my reaction," Iris said.

"What?" Ever replied.

Iris continued looking at Renford. He looked so much like himself. Maybe she should let Ever give him her memories. But she knew it wouldn't be the same.

"Do you think that there are some things in us that are just innate?" she questioned, "Things that make us who we are even if we don't remember who we once were?"

Ever knew exactly what she was asking, but only said, "My sister is looking forward to having her memory removed." Iris was silent.

They would reach the Nexus soon. She knew what she was going to do, but she wanted to test one more thing. She took out her grandfather's watch. She traced the engraving of his initials with her fingers. Then she called out to Renford and threw it at him. He caught it with his left hand. Renford burnt his right hand badly when he was very young and was forced to do everything left-handed. Even after his hand healed, he preferred doing everything with his left-hand. Iris leaned forward and retrieved the watch. She had embedded a map of the planet into it. Then she had encoded her brother's DNA into it so she new exactly where he was all the time. He had something similar of hers. Whenever she was lost, she used the atlas to find her way home.

She released the latched to display a hologram of the atlas. She handed the watch back to Renford. "Can you use the atlas to get us there?" Iris asked him, pointing to the red dot that indicated where her brother was located.

He looked confused, "I don't know how to read an atlas."

Of the countless things that Renford was fascinated by, cartography was an almost demonic obsession of his. He mapped everything. In fact, he was the one who taught her not only how to read an atlas but also how important it was to remap it. "Things may not change too much from year to year," he had told her, "Just enough to reveal a curvature here or a valley there, but it can be insurmountable if we don't keep track of the little things." She smiled at him, noticing that he was looking at the atlas but it was upside down. All the little things, she thought, definitely are gone now.

The Renford in front of her was an empty shell with only the reflexes of the man she once knew. Who knew if he would become the man he once was? Who knew if he would retrace his footsteps or just step into brand new ones? The only thing that Iris knew right then and there was that she needed to do exactly what he said, she needed to catch her reaction.

She turned to Ever and asked, "You can hold on to my memories for me, can't you?"

Ever took a deep breath and replied, "Yes, I can," as he pulled up to the front entrance of the Nexus. It wasn't a braver decision. It was a more complex one.

March 23, Ambidextrous:

How very...ambidextrous.
She had the skillful ability to preform tasks with either hand which made her ambidextrous.
Politicians are ambidextrous.

The Colleagues preferred not to choose sides, but when they did, they always had a goal, and every goal had an endgame. Goal: find a cure for the sickness. Endgame: deliver the cure to the humans. They were preparing for departure. They had a new goal and a new endgame. Isolate the sickness within themselves. Find a cure.

The Colleagues paid little attention to enemies. They have yet to meet one that required their attention. A collective does not fare well in time of war.

***

There were several possible futures that Iris saw:

The Colleagues found the cure. The Admiral killed the Arduans. The Arduans retaliated. The war continued for many, many years. Death and destruction followed.
The Colleagues found the cure. The Admiral killed the Arduans. The Arduans retaliated. The prince presented the cure to the Arduans. The Arduans fought and fought until they realized that the war was destroying them. The Arduans ended the war.
The Colleagues found the cure. The Admiral killed the Arduans. The Arduans retaliated. The prince presented the cure to the Arduans. The Arduans killed the prince. The war continued. Death and destruction followed. The Arduans received the cure reluctantly.
The Colleagues found the cure. The Admiral killed the Arduans. The Arduans retaliated. The prince presented the cure to the Arduans. The Arduans killed the prince. The war continued. Death and destruction followed. The Arduans received the cure against their will.
The Colleagues found the cure. The Admiral killed the Arduans. The Arduans retaliated. The prince presented the cure to the Arduans. The war ended.

When Iris and her brother were young children, her father's consul brought in a psychic to read their future. The psychic observed them and noticed that Iris had the skillful ability to perform tasks with either hand, which made her ambidextrous. The psychic then noticed that the prince followed his sister everywhere, using her like a shield and was even frightened by his own shadow at times. The psychic told the king's consul that Iris would make a good politician. "Politicians are ambidextrous," the psychic said, "as for the prince, he would be better off as an artist, a follower of his heart." The consul did not have any use for an artist so he did not pay any attention to the prince from then on. As for Iris, he insisted that she become his student, and carved out her path into the consul.

When Iris left the consul to join the fleet, two things happened: 1) Renford became a host to the Colleagues, and 2) she realized that she was on her way to becoming a very good politician. She understood the dark underbelly of the underhanded mechanisms of politics. How one hand fed the other, scratched one back and then assassinated another, all in the name of the greater good. But like most politicians, she didn't believe in the greater good. She'd follow her heart until it became broken. She'd believe in her people until they betrayed her. She'd sacrifice herself until it became unbearable, and then she would strike back.

Her brother, on the other hand, was a magnificent artist. When Iris left the consul, he became the politician, the diplomat with his artistic words. He followed his heart. But unlike most politicians, he would indeed sacrifice himself for the greater good, an action that stemmed from him being an artist.

***

When the Spektor met the Admiral, she thought, how very...ambidextrous. The Admiral was both a nihilistic and a servant. He didn't believe in religion but he married a fanatic. He liked riddles and words, but he hated games. It was going to be easy for her to take him over.

March 24, Amicable:

That is true, beware of amicable people.
An amicable settlement was reached following a lengthy discussion.
We are amicable friends.

An amicable settlement was reached following a lengthy discussion. When the Colleagues left the Spektors' planet, it was peaceful. But soon the Spektors became sick and began to die. They realized too late that their prolonged relationship with the Colleagues became a dependent one. Without the Colleagues, the Spektors were dying at a rapid pace. A handful of Spektors were preserved. Only one survived. When she woke up, she saw the inscription: That is true, beware of amicable people. The remainder of the message had dissolved.

***

Renford jumped out of the Jeep when it came to a complete stop. If he was supposed to be an important part of this grand scheme that Iris and Ever kept talking about, then he would like to know something about himself before he took part in it any longer. He looked at Ever, who was lost in thought himself and stated, "I need you to show me something about myself. What have I been cured of?"

Ever heard him and replied, "I can't show you something I don't have. You'll need to ask Iris. I am only the port."

Renford looked over at Iris. She was shaking her head. "We don't have time for this," she said.

"Then I won't go with you," replied Renford.

Iris knew that she could force him, but she didn't have the energy, or the heart to do it, really. "All you need to know is that you were sick and now you're not."

"That's just not good enough," Renford said, starting to walk away.

Iris leapt out of Jeep, and chased after him. "Look, I mean it when I said we don't have time for this. I will explain everything to you afterwards. You just have to trust me."

He wasn't sure about her, but he wanted to believe her. "If you and I are friends," he asked her, "Are we amicable friends? Or are we hostile friends?"

That was an astute observation he had, thought Iris. She couldn't get waylaid, though, and just answered, "We are amicable friends." She stuck out her hand, and pleaded, "Please." Renford heeded and walked back towards the car, where Nirra and Leyla had joined Ever.

When she reached them, Iris spoke only to Nirra, "I need to speak to the Colleague." They walked away from the group and spoke in private. When they were finished, they came back to the group, and entered the Nexus together.

March 25, Obsession:

Stop obsessing!
It was such a shame that she had such an obsession in regard to this matter.
It was an obsession that got out of hand.

It was the speck of dirt on a glass. It was the misaligned paper on her desk. It was the wrinkle in her shirt. It was such a shame that she had such an obsession in regard to this matter. The unorganized things that she could touch. The out of place things in her life. It consumed her. It devoured her. Stop obsessing!

When Leyla met Ben, she was in her third decade. She knew exactly when she would meet him, where and how. She knew it would be painful to watch him woo her friend, painful to watch their romance bud and then bloom, and painful for her to pick up the pieces of her friend's broken heart. In time, both Ben and her friend moved on, but Leyla remained with the memories and the ticking moments until she would meet him in the market a few miles down the road where they first met years earlier when Ben was a young soldier chasing after the heart of her friend.

Leyla realized early on that when you're constantly waiting for the future, you noticed all the misplaced things. The future was blurry. The future was malleable. It was the speck of dirt on a future glass, or a future speck on a present glass. It was all the misaligned things that needed to come together to create the future that she foresaw. It was an obsession that she confessed to her husband; a nightmare that got out of hand as she waited for the future to arrive.

When she met the princess, the captain, the handler of future things to come, Leyla was doubtful. This woman, this girl who shunned her responsibilities, who ran away to join the fleet, she was the carrier of their future? She hardly had enough will power in her to believe in the present, thought Leyla of Iris, much less the future. But Leyla depended on her routine, she believed in her speck of dirt and her future glass. She would play her role. She would bring about the perfect storm. She would see clarity in her unfocused future.

When Ever told her that the princess was about to change the plans, Leyla didn't know what to say. She had been wrong before, but she had never been so relieved. She thought about Ben and her son, Jon. She thought about all the happy times they shared on the lake. She thought about all the moments they still had left to share.

March 26, Infinitesimal:

The formula had an infinitesimal chance of being flawed.
There was an infinitesimal opportunity for doubt.

It started with a formula, a formula that had an infinitesimal chance of being flawed. The creators did not perfect the formula. There was an infinitesimal opportunity for doubt. They left it in there as a means of protection. They created the Colleagues to be infinite, but they knew the formula was not completely stable. Vulnerability was a signature of theirs.

The Quiet in Between

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3/3 - 3/26/13

One-Word-A-Day Writing Exercise: Sci-Fi Story