Ephemeral: Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Tristan's limp body half-floated, half-sagged in a tub of blood and water. His blue-rimmed spectacles hung on the very edge of his nose. Clara felt woozy, yet had an odd urge to push them up his face. But she knew his vacant eyes would never need them again. Oh, Tristan! How could you? Her vision started to swim as Aliyah and Raven burst into the room. Aliyah took one look in the bathroom and clasped a hand over her mouth. Raven paled and said nothing, her knuckles white as she gripped the doorknob.
Clara took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She felt on the verge of passing out.
“Sit down, Clara!” Raven ordered, her own shock translating into sharpness.
Clara sat on the guest bed and put her head in her hands. No one spoke.
Then Raven knelt down to pick up the fallen tea tray and ceramic mugs. Aliyah retrieved a towel hanging in the restroom, putting her hand to her face to shield herself from seeing the body. She started sopping up the spilled tea on the floor. Her full bottom lip trembled. “Tristan shouldn't have gone that way! What a waste! Did he even leave a note or anything?”
Clara cast her eyes about the room in search of any paper, but found none. She sniffed. Oh, Tris. Were things really so hopeless that you didn't feel the need to explain?
“We should go,” Raven said when she straightened, tea tray in hand. “There's nothing more we can do now.”
“Agreed,” Aliyah said, also rising to her feet. “But what do we tell the Almitians?”
“The truth,” Raven said as she headed for the door. “There are only so many explanations for finding a cadaver in a tub. Suicide is probably common here.”
“I still can't believe he went through with it, though!” Aliyah shook her head.
Raven frowned. “Even if hadn't done it, let's face it; we're probably not going to last much longer on this rock ...”
“Which is why I'm leaving this planet as soon as possible!” Aliyah said, chin in the air.
Clara sat quietly, her mind swirling with sadness and regret.
“Well, ladies,” Raven said from the doorway, “I don't know about you, but I sure could use a glass of wine.”
Clara sniffed. “I'm sure Mother Alden wouldn't mind. She offered me some yesterday.”
Raven nodded. “Any other takers?”
“I just want to get out of this room,” said Aliyah. “It's giving me the creeps.”
Not wanting to be left alone with the body, Clara rose from the quilted bed, followed the other two, and shut the door behind her. “I'm going outside,” she announced when she walked into the living room. “I need some air.”
Raven nodded to her as she started opening drawers in search of a bottle opener.
Clara exited the back door, walked into the Elpis light and breathed deeply of the floral-citrus air. Before she knew where she was going, her feet took her toward the paddock where she'd first spied Mother Alden leaning against a fence post. There were no bucking broncos in the arena now, but one of the bay mares was grazing. Clara wrapped her arms around herself and watched the beautifully curved animal peacefully munch on grass – oblivious to the human tragedy in the house. Clara gazed at the horse until her repressed tears brimmed over, making her vision blurry.
How long she stood there, she knew not. But she quickly wiped her eyes on her shirtsleeve when she heard footsteps approaching behind her. Actually, it was more like a step-drag-step sound. Aaric!
Aaric hobbled over and rested his elbows on the fence. “Hey there, Clara.”
“Hey,” she sniffed. “I needed some air.”
Aaric nodded, reached into his breast pocket, and procured a handkerchief.
“Thanks.” Clara accepted the token and blew her nose. “How's Darian?”
The corner of Aaric's mouth twitched. “He's still standing – which is a miracle in itself. Any Almitian would have passed out two drinks earlier. I'm surprised you didn't hear him singing down the lane on our way over.”
“At least he's happy.” Clara returned the handkerchief.
Aaric frowned. “I don't think so; there's a difference between laughter and happiness.” He took a deep breath. “I am sorry for your friend, Tristan, though. It's tragic.”
“You don't have many suicides here?” Clara asked.
“No, not in my lifetime.”
“Oh.” Clara looked down at her feet and kicked aside a three-dimensional blade of grass which had fallen across her shoe.
“Are there many suicides on Earth?” Aaric asked. “Even with a Rite of Passing?”
Clara nodded.
“Really?!” Aaric looked incredulous. “Why cut a short life shorter?”
Clara had no satisfactory answer, so she gazed back at the grazing mare.
Aaric softened his tone. “I'm sorry. I was surprised. And as for Tristan's body, we can preserve it cryogenically so his family can bury him on his home planet.”
“Thank you. That's thoughtful. I … I'm sorry for all the trouble we've caused.”
“We don't fear trouble here,” Aaric said. “It's part of life.”
“And death, too, apparently,” Clara answered.
CLANG!
Clara and Aaric whirled around at the unexpected sound, but at first saw nothing.
CLANG!
It's coming from overhead! Clara looked up to the barn roof. She stopped breathing.
Aaric stared, blinking in disbelief.
Darian stood cavalierly atop the barn roof thirty feet in the air with one hand on the iron weather vane and the other holding a green wine bottle. He swung back and forth, clanging the bottle against the weather vane at each pass. His white office shirt fluttered in the breeze completely unbuttoned. His tie was missing, and his trousers were torn at the cuffs; he was every inch the picture of a drunken sailor. And like a three-masted galleon, the roof's sides slanted dangerously. A careless step in either direction and ...
Clara's throat went dry. She tried to call out, but only managed a whisper as Darian leaned precariously over the edge and started spouting a eulogy of sorts:
“Tristan was always was a sensitive fool! He wore funny glasses and read books in school! I'll drink to his memory whilst I still can – and when I can’t, I won’t.” He upended the bottle, frowned when nothing came out, and put it to his eye like a spyglass. He saw Clara on the ground below and grinned. “Helloo Clarity! D’ya hear the ballad of ole Tris? I made it myself.”
Aaric spoke to Clara. “Keep him talking. I'll get him down!” He dashed away see-saw fashion toward the back of the barn.
Clara looked up and was struck dumb. Surely the inebriated poet carelessly swaying to and fro was merely a satirical manifestation of her recent shock. The scenario felt too bizarre to be real. But if it's not, then why is Aaric climbing the roof?
“You remember Tris?” Darian called from above. “Red hair? Glasses?”
“Of course!” Clara's voice cracked. “Why don't you come down, Darian, and we can talk more about him? On the ground? Where it's safe?”
Darian grinned and shook his head. “I like it up here. I got … prospective!” He hiccuped. “Perspective! Prospective! One of those.” Again he upended the wine bottle and looked disappointed when not a drop descended. “BUT I CAN TALK LOUDER IF YOU WANT!”
Clara winced.
Then Aliyah opened the back door. “What's all the noise abou –” Her tone instantly changed. “Darian Obadiah Smith!” she shouted as she ran to Clara's side. “What on earth are you doing up there?!”
“But I'm NOT on Earth,” Darian giggled like a mischievous child. “I'm on Elpis something or other. Can't get to Earth without the space worms.”
“Space worms?!” Aliyah stood. “What are you talking about?”
“No space worms, no worm holes!” Darian laughed at his own joke.
Aliyah spoke to Clara. “I swear, if he doesn’t come down this instant, I'll climb up there and kill him myself!”
Despite Aliyah's strong words, Clara could see her hands shaking. “Aaric's already on his way up,” she said quietly.
“There he is!” Aliyah pointed to the back of the barn. Aaric had hoisted himself over the roof edge and now crawled on all fours to get to Darian. He carried a coiled rope across his torso and slowly, slowly made his way toward the intoxicated intern. He met eyes with Clara for a brief moment and gestured for her to keep talking.
“Hey, Darian!” Clara shouted. “Why don't you come down so we can tell you something?”
Darian raised an eyebrow. “Is it a secret?”
“Yes!” Aliyah called. “A big secret! But we need to whisper it. So you have to come down, Darian, right now! We can't shout it, or our secret won't be a secret anymore!”
Darian considered, then put his index finger to his lips. “I know a secret, too. It's one of the best-kept secrets. Everyone knows it, but they all try to forget. I remember, though.”
Aaric was only thirty feet away from Darian who thus far had not seen him.
Clara called up, “What's your secret then, Darian?”
Grasping the weather vane with one hand, Darian leaned precariously to one side and held his wine bottle in the air as if addressing the sky: “Everyone dies!” he declared. “Smart people die, dumb people die. Rich people die, poor people die. Old people die, young people die. You’re gonna die, I’m gonna die …” he pointed to himself, “We’re all gonna die. We just pretend we won't. Nothing matters in the end.”
Clara's eyes stung as images of Raven's father, of her own mother, of Tristan flew through her mind. But something deep inside her rebelled, refused, refuted this fatalistic all-for-naught mentality. She knew there was more to life than death. But now was not the time to engage in a ontological discussion. With a great effort of will, Clara reigned in her impatience and tried to speak calmly. “You're right, Darian,” she called up. “We must all die someday. But I’d prefer it not be today.”
“Oh, everyone prefers that,” Darian said. “Besides, isn't it always 'today'? 'Someday' never seems to show up.” Again he upended his bottle and furrowed his brow when nothing poured from it. “This bottle does not work.” He pointed the green glass toward Clara. “Can you fix it?”
Aaric was halfway across the roof by now. With every inch he gained on Darian, Clara's anxiety increased. She had a sinking feeling he might not reach Darian in time.
“If you climb down the ladder, we can get you some more wine,” Clara bargained.
“Enough to fill a bathtub?” Darian looked at Clara with the saddest expression she'd ever seen him wear.
Her own eyes grew glassy.
Aliyah swore. “Darian! You've been up there long enough! Climb down this second, or I'll ...”
Darian threw his head back and laughed. “Actually, I think I’ll just fly down ...”
“What?!” Aliyah froze, her eyes widening in horror. “No! That's not what I meant! Don't do it!”
“Darian, don’t!” Clara shrieked. “Aaric!”
Aaric uncoiled his rope, swung the lasso over his head to take aim …
… and missed Darian by an inch as the business grad leapt – bottle in hand – and flew off the roof.
#
In a reflex for which she would always be grateful, Clara turned her head and shut her eyes at the moment of Darian's impact. But the sound of snapping bone and spraying fluids would forever haunt her.
Aliyah had apparently not averted her eyes and started screaming.
Raven heard the commotion, dashed through the back door, and looked beyond Clara toward the barn. She looked like she was about to puke.
Clara nearly turned toward the sight when Raven held up her hand. “Clara! You don't want to see.”
Aliyah buried her head in her hands. “I hate this planet! I hate it! I want to go home!”
“Clara, let's bring her inside,” Raven said as she strode to support Aliyah's left elbow.
Clara obeyed as if in a trance and felt like she floated rather than walked back into the house. The house had not changed, but without its wise, white-haired owner and with Tristan's body lying half-submerged in the guest bathroom, it seemed alien and cold – as if all the warmth had flown away for the winter. Was it true not one but two of her teammates had died here? How could one process tragedy upon tragedy? It was enough to give one psychosis!
Raven raised her voice to be heard over Aliyah's hysterics, “Is there another room we can take her to?”
Clara didn't respond.
“Not the guest room!” Aliyah leaned back and resisted. “I'm not going back in there!”
“Clara!” Raven shouted. “Wake up!”
The sound of her own name at that volume snapped her back to the present. “What?”
“Is there another room for Aliyah?”
“Yes! Mother Alden's room. It's … unoccupied.”
“See?” Raven said to Aliyah. “A room all to yourself.”
Aliyah burst into tears. “I just can't understand! Why did he jump? What's happening to us?!”
“You need rest, Aliyah. Come on,” Raven coaxed. “Clara, lead the way.”
Three degrees later, Raven and Clara left Aliyah crying and tossing on Mother Alden's bed. Remembering what had happened with Tristan, Clara asked quietly, “Should we leave her in there alone? By herself?”
Raven sighed and leaned her head against the hallway wall. “She still thinks she can find a way back to Earth. A flimsy hope, I grant. But it will keep her from doing anything rash. And I took the precaution of removing this from the bathroom.” Raven held up a razor and put it back into her pocket.
At that moment, Aaric came through the door, hanging his head.
“Aaric!” Clara practically flew to him. She paused when she saw his tormented expression.
His eyes looked cloudy. His shoulders sagged. “I'm so sorry! I never miss!” he lamented. “But I did today! I was too slow!”
“You weren't too slow,” Raven said she headed toward the kitchen. “Darian was too fast. He's always been impetuous.”
“Maybe I could have said something different to buy more time...” Clara began.
“Clara,” Raven chided, “you knew Darian! Once he made up his mind, nothing could sway him. If he really wanted to take his life, he would have found a way to do it regardless of what you said.”
Aliyah moaned from Mother Alden's room.
Aaric turned toward the hallway. “Would it be helpful if I gave your friend a mild sedative so she could get some shut eye?”
“Please do,” Raven said as she opened another green bottle of wine.
Clara shuddered as she pictured the bottle Darian had chucked right before he … “I think I'd prefer tea,” Clara said as she grabbed the kettle. “Anyone else want any?”
“I'll take a cup,” Aaric said as he walked out of the room carrying Mother Alden's black medical bag.
Raven shrugged. “Suit yourselves. I need something stronger.”
By the time the kettle whistled, Aliyah was resting peacefully. Clara and Aaric drank tea across from one another at the kitchen island while Raven kept watch at the window, wine glass in hand.
Clara drank her first cup in silence. Then she poured out a second round and said quietly, “Thank you for trying to rescue Darian.”
Aaric nodded and cupped his hands around his mug. “I explained the situation to my father after I gave Aliyah her medication. He said he'd send someone to look after her and to collect the … bodies.”
Clara felt chilled and drew her tea to her lips.
Aaric continued, “He also wanted me to ask if you two were still willing to help with the mission.”
Clara had almost forgotten. She would have preferred to hide in a cozy corner and wait for trouble to blow over. But such corners are always in short supply. Clara upended her tea cup. “I'm still willing. It might help get my mind off of … you know.”
Aaric nodded, tapped a message into his armband, and received an answer soon after. “My father thanks you. He and the other Elders are leaving for Agilis to make their case for Mother Alden.”
“When should we leave?”
“We'll follow soon. Mother Alden's trial should begin thirty degrees before Elpis-setting. Then we'll intercept the porter at the recess and drug Karnak's Elpis-setting meal.”
“I would hardly call his protein shake a meal,” Raven said from the window. “Eden says he always orders one, but never finishes it.”
“Good to know. I'll give him a larger dose of sedative, then.” Aaric glanced at Mother Alden's medical bag. “Not enough to hurt him if he does finish it, but enough to do the job if he doesn't.”
Raven joined the other two at the kitchen island, but did not make eye contact with Clara.
Clara's insides tensed as she wondered what she'd done to offend.
“So if I'm understanding correctly,” Raven said to Aaric, “the mission is to knock His Eminence out of commission halfway through the trial and remove the Fire Stone so the Elders can reason with the Grand Assembly without his interference?”
“That's it. And when we get the stone ...” Aaric reached into his pocket, “we need to secure it in this special box to protect us from the radiation.” Here he placed a gray container the size of his palm onto the counter top. He opened it to reveal a spherical indentation in green foam to hold the gem in place.
“Sounds simple enough.” Raven drained her glass.
“What happens to Captain Karnak when he comes to?” Clara asked.
Aaric shut the box and put it back into his pocket. “That will be up to the Grand Assembly,” he said soberly.
A knock made all three of them jump.
Aaric walked to the front door and held his hands in a subduing pose. He glanced out one of the side windows and relaxed. “It's alright. It's some of our neighbors to help with … your friends.”
He stepped outside to give instruction while Raven stared darkly at the bottom of her empty glass, twirled the stem about in her fingers, and seemed a galaxy away.
After a prolonged period of silence, Clara leaned toward her. “Raven? Are you okay?”
Raven's head snapped up. Her brown eyes smoldered. “How can you ask me that?” she said bleakly. “Half our team is dead, our hosts are on the brink of war, we're stuck on an ultra-aging planet, and to top it off you've been lying to me. So no, Clara, I am not okay!”
“Lying?!” Clara's jaw nearly hit her collar bone. “When did I lie?!”
Raven wiped her angry eyes. “You made it sound like we were going to a quaint, cultural celebration when all the time you knew a bomb was coming! That wasn't fair, Clara. You should have prepared us. Maybe if you had, Tristan and Darian wouldn't have ...” Raven stopped short at seeing Clara's eyes about to brim over. “Anyway, why didn't you at least tell me? We've known each other since kindergarten! Did you really think I couldn't handle the truth? Or do you simply not trust your best friend anymore?”
“Raven,” Clara pleaded, “the only reason I didn't tell you sooner is because His Eminence bugged our communicators!”
“Our scan-stones?” Raven looked skeptical. “Why do you think that?”
“I should have figured it out earlier!” Clara frowned. “I accidentally dropped my stone the day we got it and heard voices I did not recognize saying something about switching to offline mode. It happened again last night after they arrested my mentor. There's no way they could have known about our conversation otherwise.”
Raven crossed her arms. “So you're saying His Eminence has been spying on us this whole time? Don't you think he has better things to do? We're just interns! How would we be a threat?”
Clara furrowed her brow. “I think His Eminence is easily threatened these days. He's been sending spy drones over Almitian borders; I saw one! And the only reason he arrested Mother Alden was because she told me the truth – the truth about this place and the truth about Earth.”
“Earth? What are you talking about?”
Clara drew a deep breath. She's not going to like this next part; she's always loved the V. C. “Mother Alden told me why the original colonists came to Elpis 7. It's because the Vitae Conglomerate has been deceiving us for decades! Did you know that after Passing ceremonies they ...”
“A conspiracy theory?!” Raven scoffed. “Really?! And you take the word of an ignorant stranger over a lifetime of experience with the V. C. after they funded your college scholarships and awarded you this internship? That's crazy, Clara! This whole planet is crazy! They don't even observe the basic Rite of Passing!”
Clara's heart pounded. She felt strangely defensive. “It's not just her word against theirs, Raven. She showed me hard evidence: photos, journal entries ... The V. C. is hiding a mass slavery operation of the nearly-departed, and no one on Earth knows about it!”
Raven stared at Clara, slack-jawed. Then her brows met over her nose. “I don't believe it! Almitas has bewitched you! Clara, have you forgotten how they let humans suffer here? It's barbaric! And you're willing to condemn your own society and turn your back on your people simply because you met a boy with a pretty face? And you call yourself objective! Ha! You are absolutely deluded!” Raven pushed herself from the table and strode to the living room window.
Clara went mute. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. Raven had never insulted her before. After an uneasy silence, she took a deep breath and made a final diplomatic appeal. “Raven, don't you even want to glance at the evidence?”
Raven held up a warning hand, but did not turn from the window. “At this point, Clara, I. Don't. Care. All I want is to get through this day in one piece.”
Clara swallowed hard and made no further attempt at conversation. She tried (and struggled) to excuse Raven's stinging remarks. Raven probably didn't mean half of what she said, she reasoned, and she's dealing with a ton of overwhelming information. I best not press her further, or she might crack. And without her help, this mission is over before it starts.
At that moment, the door opened and Aaric paused in the doorway when he saw Clara and Raven no longer sitting together. “Are we ready? Or do you two need a degree more?”
“I'm good.” Raven stepped past Aaric out the door without a backward glance.
As her best friend walked away, Clara felt the distance between them grow exponentially. It gutted her – and her eyes grew glassy. But she sniffed back her tears as she rose from the island.
“Are you alright?” Aaric asked softly when she passed him in the doorway. “Would you rather rest here instead?”
Clara bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “No, I'm not alright. I'll go mad if I stay.”
What do you think?
Any comments/comparisons/contrasts between Tristan’s and Darian’s fates?
Too know is too know
It's interesting who still has the grit to go on...