Chapter 12.
Later that night the three ‘brothers’ lay quietly in their beds. The events of the day had been beyond description for each of them, and though they were tired, sleep eluded them. After a time Nahm spoke.
“These things Evander talks about; conscience . . . agency . . . freedom. They all make sense. They touch me deeply. I wonder why I never considered such things until he spoke of them.”
“Maybe it’s because you were so busy living them that you saw no need to give them description.” said Broc.
“Ours is a new culture,” Amon added. “In our world we exist on a survival level, not like what we see here. Evander’s culture is thousands of years older than ours. They no longer must concern themselves just with surviving from one day to the next. Their technology has afforded them the luxury of exploring other facets of their lives. They have a much better understanding of their relationships with one another. It seems that they have eliminated conflicts such as what happened with our brother Sef.”
“My brother,” said Nahm. “It has been 40 years since you left us. . . .”
“Yet in my time it has only been a few days,” Amon pointed out.
“This is true. Never the less, for us much time has passed. Many things have we learned in that time. Many conflicts have we confronted. There have been those in our clan who have vied for power and control; who have wanted to exercise dominion over others, to take away our rights to decide for ourselves. We have experienced frustration and anger under such conditions. Often conflicts have arisen which have divided us. On many occasions it has been those conflicts which have caused some families to leave the group, to form their own clans.”
Broc sat up on the edge of his bed.
“And so it is, my brothers. Because we have been nomadic; because we have desired to explore our world; when such conflicts have arisen, rather than stay and resolve our differences, too frequently we have chosen to separate. We have learned to co-exist with those of like mind, but we have failed to appreciate and understand those with whom we disagree.
Amon felt the need to interject, to find common ground between him and his two friends.
“Yet, for all this, still we think alike. How many times have each of us lain awake at night wondering at the marvels which surround us? How often have we puzzled over the reasons why events unfold as they do? How often have we rejoiced, only to be brought down in anguish? How often have we felt despair, loneliness, isolation, even while surrounded by our friends and families?”
Amon’s thoughts went back over the events of his life. The joys of his childhood, travelling with his mother and father; the discovery of Broc and his family; how they had been joined by Nahm and Sef and all the others. He remembered Nera, great with child; the day she died; how he had felt it near impossible to deal with his anguish; then later, how Mahrohm had chosen him as her mate, even though he had been reluctant after his loss of Nera; the similarities between those two women, and their differences; how he had loved them . . . how he still loved them, how he still mourned their loss.
“My brothers, my heart begins to grieve for not knowing the fate of those I love.” Amon paused briefly, taking hold of his emotions, lest they overpower him. “I rejoice that you have come here. My heart swells with my love for each of you. And yet I see what the years have done to you. These machines which surround us may have restored some semblance of your youth; but still, time has taken it’s toll. I see it in your eyes.”
“As do we also see this in you,” said Broc.
“For us many years have passed, while for you it has been only days. Yet in your countenance can be seen the toll the events of your life have taken.”
Reaching across the narrow space that separated their beds, he placed a hand on Amon’s knee.
“For each of us the decision to leave our people was most difficult. Yet as we studied it out in our minds and in our hearts, each of us saw the wisdom in allowing others to take up the challenge. Though we feared for their well-being, we knew that they must learn on their own terms; that they must stand or fall on their own merit. And now that we are separated, we wonder how they have fared.”
Amon stood slowly, stepped out from between the two beds and walked the short distance to the opposite wall. Turning back to face his friends, he hesitated, unsure of how to express what he was feeling. The dim light from overhead cast shadows across his face, rendering his expression indistinct. He hoped his friends would not see the tears in his eyes and the anguish that he felt in his heart.
“My brothers, I fear that I lack the tenacity which you possess. Those many years of experience you’ve acquired are as a void for me. Though I strive to understand, how can I if I have not walked a similar path?”
“The path for each of us has been different,” said Broc. “We are brothers of the heart and of the spirit, but we are each separate and distinct. Each of us must learn in our own way. My dear friend Amon, neither I nor Nahm have lost a mate, or a child, or yet a second mate. Neither of us has felt such anguish.”
Nahm started to stand, then hesitated and sat back down. Looking first to Amon and then to Broc, he took a deep breath, then began.
“Our losses and our loves are unique to each of us. Though we strive to empathize one with another, in our hearts we know that we cannot completely do so. We are kindred spirits, yet we are separate. Perhaps it is that feeling of lonely separateness which draws us together.”
Amon clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head. He was now beginning to feel confident that his friends would understand. . . .
“My brothers, do you not long to know what has become of your loved ones?”
“We do, assuredly.” said Broc. “But we also know that our decision to come here has rendered that impossible. This we learned just as you did. Our bloodline may still continue, but those people with whom we associated have most likely gone the way of all life.”
Amon returned to his place and sat facing his friends.
“I wish to know what has become of my people, of my race. For me it has been but a few days, but still I wonder. Was I hasty in deciding to leave? Could I have done something differently? Also I wonder, is there something more I can do?”
“I feel the same,” said Broc.
“As do I,” said Nahm.
Amon sighed in relief.
“Thank you, my brothers. I had feared you would think I wanted to abandon you after so short a time of our reunion.
“We don’t know what to expect upon our return, but of this we can be certain. It will not be the same as it was.”