After Derstan, Talden, and Broah had organized the survivors into their temporary quarters sections, Kiel, Kellar, Vala, Ioka, In-nekel, Gerryls, and some of the other explorers wandered among them discussing their concerns and wishes. Alessia listened to Lierva and Celekar joking about how difficult it was going to be to lead them through the ship until they got used to its maze of corridors and levels, and how strange it would be to live among so many after their long isolation, for Selesta had never known any permanent occupants aside from the thirty-one explorers.
Thirty-four thousand refugees had escaped the destruction of Seynorynael; a third of these were half-race or non-Seynorynaelian. Many of the off-worlders expressed a desire to return to their own planets; some offered to secure their own passage home if only they might be left at one of the major transport centers.
The Seynorynaelians, however, had nowhere to go. Most were still in shock and uncommunicative; many did not care where they went. Others were already worrying about how they would be received by the territories. None of them wanted Silerista to leave them unprotected. If it was indeed a Sinanailian Empire vessel, some argued, then it was obliged to safeguard the refugees.
The Sinanailian Empire… even the name of the race and planet itself had changed over time before the planet Seynorynael’s destruction.
An older retired officer of the Enforcers, the empire's former regulators and descendants of the Martial Force, wove his way through the crowds and addressed Kiel boldly.
Lierva noticed the interchange and pointed. "I wonder what's going on over there?" She asked Alessia and Celekar, and the three explorers tuned their minds to Kiel's to sift through the intervening noise.
"...think it would be wise to let them know you have returned and that you will protect us, as soon as you can. Your reputation as the precursors of the empire's power is still known throughout the galaxy supercluster.” The Enforcer said. “They would do as you request, if only from fear, a fear that has been ingrained in Empire children for more then twenty-five thousand years.
"You explorers have been gone seventeen millennia, so long that none thought you had survived.” He continued, his keen eyes working over his own memory as thoroughly as he could. “Even I learned The Emperor's proclamation in my education in Ralsin–that you had been lost on your voyage and were, no doubt, doomed to wander space forever, never to return to Sinanail. I guess He was correct on that account.” The Enforcer added in a tone that did little to hide his distaste for the Emperor.
“But since you have returned upon our world’s demise and will help us, please allow me to explain the difficulties I can foresee.”
“By all means,” Kiel said, his arms crossed over his chest, his face respectfully alert.
"You may not understand our current situation, but the Empire was not ready for the supernova." The former Enforcer explained in a manner that conveyed he himself had not yet recovered from the shock of it. "We were certain it would not come for a thousand more years. This premature disaster has–well, it has all but destroyed us as you can see, and it also gives our enemies the chance to eliminate the survivors of our race one at a time. I have no doubt–chaos will soon reign.”
“And what of Marankeil?” Kiel asked.
The Enforcer flinched, as though it were taboo to speak that name aloud.
"I don’t know, exactly,” the man replied. “I was on the bridge of the trader ship Thessalgrika and heard in a transmission between the Imperial Fleet ships that the Emperor and the Elders had disappeared–I believe that was why the Fleet fled. Without their masters, most of the Enforcers are like mindless children–I of all should know. But the fact remains that until the Emperor returns, when he does, there is no force left to bind the factions that would war upon each other.
"The pro-empire regulators will attempt to maintain control for the Emperor, but no one can say what those who accepted the Empire only for the stability it brought to their lives will do, whether or not they will side with the regulators or the independence groups." He shook his head solemnly.
"There have been independence activist groups growing all over the galaxy for the past several thousand years, anticipating the upheaval that Valeria's supernova might bring. And any one of those leaders might see himself as the new Emperor. Our society seems now unable to function without an Empire; we seem unable to imagine life without the concept of imperial power, as much talk of insurrection as there has been. However, if the activist groups work together, we will be worse off but at least that would ensure galactic order. If they war upon each other as I suspect–this should buy us a little time for this ship to save our people, if you can.
"My guess is that no Sinanailian will be welcome on any of the former territories–no doubt the regulators will be well protected from retaliation, but there are thousands of civilians and colonists who will not be safe once word reaches the territories that the Empire is no more. I suggest that your explorers send messages with the traders to all of the planets that Silerista will accept all Sinanailians and part Sinanailians. Someone must look for a new world for our kind. Otherwise we will truly be the last of our race."
"Are any of the Empire territories still loyal to the Empire who might help us–Miran Difano?" Kiel asked. The former Enforcer officer's eyes widened.
"I did not tell you my name," he said hesitantly, his eyes now narrowing in scrutiny. "It would seem the legends of your powers are not exaggerations, if you can tell me my own name. That could be a valuable asset," he added thoughtfully, "if the independence factions will not give up our people willingly.
"But in answer to your question–yes, Tulor and Kayria are still closely bound to the Empire and will not likely challenge the regulators–many of them are half-race, anyway. They may even try to begin the reorganization in preparation for the Empire's return, but we may still expect some conflict among the colonies from other off-worlds. There will be those who would help us with supplies and sending the messages to our people to keep our presence secret, so as not to alert the independence factions, but using caution is advisable. We may not be able to recognize friend from enemy."
Don’t worry, Difano. Kiel told him, startling the man. Hinev's explorers swore an oath to the Empire never to interfere with the thoughts of our people more than necessity demanded, but the Empire is no more. And I, Fielikor Kiel, will not allow the innocent to perish on either side. I will send your message, but not only to those of Seynorynaelian blood. Any victims of the conflicts to come are welcome on Selesta. If we must travel to the edge of the supercluster, we will find peace for them.
Difano shook his head as Kiel's thoughts left his mind, but the look in the explorer's eye convinced him he had not fabricated the message himself.
"Kiel, isn't it time to take these people to their accommodations?" Kellar approached, and the man called Difano swallowed hard.
Who are these explorers? he thought, not for the first time. How can these ancient creatures still exist, to descend upon us like fallen angels, angels of mercy in our people’s time of need?
"Set the course for Kayria," Kiel patched his message through to the bridge, where Kilran had stayed behind.
A moment later, the ship's tachiyon engines engaged.
* * * * *
"Do you think Marankeil escaped to the future?" Broah asked as she, Derstan, Alessia, and Celekar returned to the crew quarters several hours later.
"I don't know," Celekar offered. "It seems likely. The Grand Fleet wouldn't have left if they could reach the Elders. I'll bet they knew they'd been abandoned and panicked."
"How far would he have gone then?" Derstan wondered aloud. "When will he come back to claim the Empire? We can't just forget our mission. Doesn't Kiel worry that we may not have much time left to stop him? His power has been weakened by the collapse of the Empire–but won't he have re-established his reign by the time we get
to Kiel3 and return with the singularity? Doesn't Kiel think we should be considering leaving as soon as possible?" he sighed. "I don't know–maybe he’s right. But why did he suggest going to Celestian first?"
"That surprised me, too." Alessia agreed.
"It makes sense, though," Celekar shrugged. "The freed planets will be attempting to rediscover their heritages. We’ll be collecting the thousands of Seynorynaelians remaining on the Empire worlds unwilling to risk the animosity of the Empire's subjects. They can’t wander space forever. Kiel knows that there are already Seynorynaelians on Celestian one and two–it is only natural that we should bring the survivors there."
"But they won’t survive the journey." Broah insisted. "Celestian is so far away, especially now that the string engine has failed us. Some of them will want to find a new world closer to the galactic center. And even if some are willing to stay, and we bring their children's children to Celestian, we will have wasted valuable time." Broah objected.
"Not any more than we will in picking up the Seynorynaelian survivors." Celekar shrugged. "I don't know. Kiel's suggestion to postpone the mission makes a lot of sense. Think how long we were in the black hole–only a second, and yet seventeen thousand and more years passed on our world. If Marankeil left before the nova and used the black hole passage, then it is likely he will be gone for at least as long as we were. I think Kiel is right–we have plenty of time to make the journey to Kiel3. I will vote tonight in favor of the postponement."
"What about you, Alessia?" Derstan asked.
"I'm not sure I can agree with Kiel," Alessia admitted. "But I won't abandon our people now. I will vote to protect them–as long as we do not take too long. The mission is important–but we cannot leave our people, as different as they seem to us."
"No, we can't," Broah agreed reluctantly. Her eyes unexpectedly welled with tears. "I wish I had never lived to see this day."
“And I,” Celekar agreed.
Usque adeone mori miserum est? Is it so hard a thing to die?
–Virgil
Chapter Seventeen
“Kiel, what are you doing here?” Alessia said, entering the holo-room, twelve tendays after the explorers picked up the surviving Seynorynaelians on Malddain, but she was immediately distracted by what she saw. Kiel sat in thought, elbows crossed on his knees, as though on the shores of Lake Firien, surrounded by the life, the sounds, and smells of the shore, but the deep blue water that sighed against the pebbled beach would have disappeared at their touch. “Kellar and Sar-a have been looking for you.”
“Alessia?” Kiel looked up with a start.
“I surprised you.”
“Yes.”
“I can leave, if you want.”
“No. Stay. I’d like to talk to you.”
She sat down beside him, and waited for him to collect his thoughts.
In the twelve years since Seynorynael's destruction, the explorers had just passed beyond the ring of the first explorer mission, where Hinev had encountered the humanoids of Malddain before the Sesylendae returned to the Federation. They had taken in thousands of refugees before word had reached the local systems, but their concerns heightened the further away they traveled from the Valerian system.
The older constituents were more loyal to the Seynorynaelian Empire and some of their people had remained, confident that they might live unmolested. But in the outer territories they had yet to reach, their people would not fare so easily. Still, the explorers could not travel as fast as they wished. They could not risk the tachiyon engine warp again for themselves because the engine might have adverse affects upon ordinary humanoids, as it had once terminated some of their specimens on the first explorer mission.
"It's my fault," Kiel said after a moment, his eyes full of guilt.
"What is?"
"It was me who suggested that we head directly for Kiel3.” He continued. “I ordered us into the black hole. If I hadn't, Seynorynael wouldn't have exploded. Our people would still be alive... " his voice trailed off, and it took all of his effort to control himself from succumbing to his anger.
"How is it your fault?" Alessia demanded.
"My decision caused Valeria to explode before its natural time.” He protested, his eyes full of pain, shouldering the sole responsibility.
“How?”
“The shockwave Selesta created caused the premature nova of Valeria, I'm sure of it," he looked down, his eyes hard.
"You don't know that."
“But you feel it, don’t you? It’s the truth.”
“No, Kiel. We have no idea what caused the nova so soon. Maybe our calculations were always off. Maybe the shockwave had nothing to do with speeding up the rate of collisions–”
"Alessia, stop trying to protect me. You felt the shockwave, didn't you?"
"Yes," she admitted tiredly. "But that still proves nothing."
“It proves that I failed miserably as our leader. It proves that I am responsible for the death of our people.”
“You can’t blame yourself for everything,” she told him, understanding now why he had become obsessed with saving all of the scattered Seynorynaelian survivors, obsessed with preserving the very survival of their race, why he had postponed the search to look for the singularity on Kiel3.
“Maybe not,” he conceded, “but I take responsibility for what happens under my command.” He said. “Selesta failed to return in time to save our people because of my decision.”
“Kiel, you have to forgive yourself,” she said.
He turned to look at her.
“You don’t understand,” he said, sounding more sincere that he felt. “You haven’t been given the responsibility of command. And it wasn’t you who was responsible.”
“Maybe not, but I understand that you’re trying to make amends. Just as I am.”
“You are?” He echoed. “Why? What have you done?”
“I interfered with evolution, with the natural order of life,” she said.
“Hinev. That was Hinev,” Kiel said. “And I’m not certain that’s the best way to look at it.”
“I helped him, Kiel. So, with Hinev gone, in a sense I am responsible for what his serum has done, for the very existence of the Seynorynaelian Empire.”
He looked at her, his eyes sober, pondering her words, recognizing something kindred between them.
“Forgive me for changing our course to Celestian,” he said, shaking his head. “I imagine you want to hurry to Kiel3.”
“No,” she sighed. “We should make sure the survivors are safe and settled, no matter what Ornenkai said. Can’t it wait, after so long?”
“But I’m preventing you from the mission that would clear your conscience. And Hinev’s, wherever he is. He did entrust you with the responsibility of making amends for him.”
“Perhaps Hinev would have appreciated knowing that the people lived free of Marankeil's Council once again. And perhaps, well perhaps our journey to the Celestian worlds is also a part of my penance. At the very least, we’ll be able to safeguard Hinev’s lost colony.”
“Yes, let us hope they’re still alive.”
“Why shouldn’t they be?”
“If the lai-nen realize that our people are there, their days are numbered.” Kiel replied. “Especially once they hear of the end of our Empire.”
“Kiel, do you ever wonder if Ornenkai was wrong about the singularity? What if–there isn’t one?”
He shrugged. “We still have to try to find it.”
“Yes, that’s what the computer keeps saying.”
They laughed.
“It’s too bad that the computer can’t take control of the ship,” Kiel shook his head.
“Can’t it?”
“No. It has control over the automatic navigational and guidance systems and access to the crew log
s, but I deactivated the computer control system so that the automatic system activates only when there’s no helm control. Until then, the computer has no power in any of the other shipboard systems.”
“Why did you do that?” Alessia wondered.
“Because I couldn’t listen to it anymore, telling us what to do all the time,” Kiel laughed. “And I was beginning to think it had a mind of its own.”
* * * * *
"...I don't know, Kiel, and I'm beginning to wonder." Gerryls said, as Alessia passed his laboratory deep in the ship on her way to the specimen museum. She had promised one of the children from Tulor to bring her a kachi bird to study but hesitated as she caught fragments of conversation.
"Perhaps we shouldn’t be tampering with Hinev's solutions." Gerryls continued.
Alessia’s feet ground to a halt.
“Enough of that talk now, Gerryls. You didn’t have any reservations before.”
"Yes, I know. But none but Hinev knew how the serum came together–the mixtures, the amounts, the order they were added–there is no documentation."
"How can we give up now?" Kiel asked. “We’re so close, man. You know it.”
“I know, but should we be doing it?”
“Without risk there can be no reward.”
Gerryls laughed.
“What is it?” Kiel asked.
“You need to tell that to yourself. Learn to take risks that involve other people.”
“What are you talking about, Gerryls?”
“You think I don’t know? Kiel, it’s obvious to everyone but you and Alessia that you’re in love with her.”
“Gerryls–” Kiel stopped. “How do you know?”
“Call it intuition. I know what you’re doing. You feel guilty about Calendra. Maybe you don’t want to risk losing love again, for whatever reason; you’re keeping your heart safe, because it’s easier. No, I don’t think you’re afraid, or overly selfish. Just human, Kiel, just human. Maybe you haven’t admitted it to yourself because you don’t know if she feels what you do, though if you don’t know by now that she loves you and always has, I’d say you’re blind, man.”