The Chronicles of Amon book 2 The Sea of Marmara

  Chapter 2.

  The young father awoke to his daughter’s crying. His wife Sarah still slept fitfully, holding the baby close in her emaciated embrace.

  When he say Amon watching, he crawled the short distance along the sloped wall of the culvert, being careful not to awaken any of the other refugees.

  “How’s she doing this morning?” Amon asked when the father had settled beside him.

  “OK, I guess. Sarah’s milk has almost dried up. When that’s gone. . . .”

  “I’m sorry.” was all Amon could think to say.

  “Look. I know none of this is your fault. You did what you could.” The father wiped his nose on his tattered sleeve. “Sarah says not to worry. It’s all in God’s hands now. But it’s killing me that I can’t find food for her. I see her slipping further every day. She’s giving all she has for our baby girl.

  “She’s almost two months now. Nice fat cheeks, chummy little arms, fat belly.” The young father cast his gaze about about abjectly. Amon could tell he was trying not to cry.

  “Listen. Amon. I know you don’t want to do it, but when the time comes. . . .”

  “Ed, my brother. I’m only going to be here for a short time. Probably not as long as. . . . Look. It’s just not right that I should take her with me.”

  Ed placed a hand on Amon’s arm, looking pleadingly into his eyes.

  “Please understand. It kills me to even think about loosing either of them. I’m even tempted to take her young life myself if it will mean Sarah stays with me for a little while longer. That’s why I haven’t given her a name. I don’t dare get too close. But Sarah! She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. And she’s giving her life for our child . . . one suckle at a time.” He broke down quiet into quiet sops.

  Amon remembered so, so long ago. He remembered his parents, snuggled close to him in their nest; looking into his mother’s eyes as he nursed, seeing the concern and love, feeling the warmth of her caress.

  He remembered Nera; putting his hand on her swollen belly; feeling their child moving inside her. He remembered the joy. Even now, so many years later, the memory made his heart ache.

  He remembered Mahrom. The gentleness of her caress. Her penetrating, gentle smile. The earthquake. NO. He would NOT remember that.

  “Ed, don’t you see I. . . . Listen. Let me think about it. I just. . . . Please. Let me think about it, just for a while.” Ed smiled weakly up at him, then turned his face away, toward the place where his wife and child lay.

  Amon patted him on the shoulder and then crawled out into the cold night air.

  He walked the short distance to the place where the transceiver was hidden. Ensuring no one was watching, he sat down beside it and placed a hand on it. The familiar blue glow started, followed close by the building hologram of his friend.

  “Amon.” Evander said quietly.

  “Any news?”

  “No. Nothing yet. My brother, it’s been a long time now. I think if they were going to report in, it would have happened by now.”

  “Haden, maybe.” said Amon. “But Broc? Nahm?. I won’t believe it ‘till I see the evidence.”

  “We’re still looking. But there’s a high probability that their transceivers have been damaged or destroyed. Their ‘pingers’ (black boxes) aren’t transmitting, even though we’ve been sending out broadband prompts. Under these conditions there just isn’t much we can do. Our technology may be advanced, but it does have it’s limitations. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”

  Amon sat quietly for some time.

  Evander also was quiet. He thought back over the years, the centuries, they had been together. From the beginning he had been drawn to Amon, yet he had never, until recently, been willing to reveal himself.

  “Amon, my dear friend. There is something I should tell you.”

  “Is it about my brothers?”

  “No, my friend. It is about you and me.

  “You have shared your entire life with me. You have confided, you have questioned, you have sought council, and have given it. And through all this time I have held back. Not because I had something to hide, but rather because I didn’t want to taint our relationship.

  “Amon, my dearest friend. You and I are more alike than you realize. As your world crumbles around you, you are filled with despair. You question yourself, your motives, your decisions. You search within yourself, wondering if there was something you could have done differently which would have changed this outcome.

  “But I tell you there is nothing you could have done, short of depriving your people of their right to choose for themselves what course they would take. You never attempted this, though I’m sure at times you longed to do so. I know this because I too have felt the same temptation.

  “Amon. I too am the product of a failed culture. No one aboard the Brighid or any of the other ships knows this.

  I am one of a select few who have undergone trials such as those you have undergone.

  “Remember Ardghal? How impressed you were with his insight, his compassion, his understanding? He too is like me, and like you. He has endured the collapse of his world. He has felt the anguish which you now feel. And out of that anguish has come a resolve. A resolve to be of help to others, that they might not have to endure the same.”

  “More than that, Amon. It was his seed which was implanted in my surrogate father. I am the fruit of his loins. Ardghal is my true father.”

  Amon turned to look at the hologram. There was peace in his heart, as though some invisible burden had at last been lifted. Instinctively he had known all along that there was a connection between him and this man that went beyond the obvious, that transcended any relationship he had ever experienced.

  “And I am your true son.”