The Godsend Incident: Children of Rost'aht, Book One: Children of Rost'aht, #1

By Thomas Watson

The entity known as the Faceless nearly destroyed Humanity. Only at the last moment, and at tremendous cost, did we prevail. That victory left a mystery in its wake. What was the source of the enemy's terrifying and destructive power? The answer may be hidden in a star system called Godsend, from which the Faceless launched its war of extermination. But Godsend was lost to the rest of the galaxy, its links to other systems severed when the Faceless disrupted space and time in its final assault on Humankind and its allies.

 

Now, twenty years later, the way to Godsend has finally opened. Two expeditions will be sent to investigate. One seeks answers to questions, the other to exploit anything the Faceless left behind.

 

But the Faceless left more than secrets in that star system, and both expeditions will be lucky to leave Godsend alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Desert Stars Publishing
• Release date: Nov 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223420842

Thomas Watson

I am a writer, amateur astronomer, and long-time fan of science fiction living in Tucson, AZ. I'm a transplanted desert rat, having come to the Sonoran Desert of the American Southwest many years ago from my childhood home in Illinois. I have a B.S. in plant biology from the University of Arizona, and have in the past worked as a laboratory technician for that institution. Among many other things, I am also a student of history, natural history, and backyard horticulture.  I also cook a pretty good green chili pork stew. But most of all, I'm a writer. The art of writing is one of those matters that I find difficult to trace to a single source of inspiration in my life. Instead of an "Aha! This is it!" moment, I would say my desire to write is the cumulative effect of my life-long print addiction. My parents once teased me by claiming I learned to read before I could tie my own shoelaces. Whether or not that's true, I learned to read very early in life, and have as a reader always cast a very wide net. My bookshelves are crowded and eclectic, with fiction by C.J. Cherryh, Isaac Asimov, and Tony Hillerman, and nonfiction by Annie Dillard, Stephen Jay Gould, and Ron Chernow, among many others. It's no doubt due to my eclectic reading habits that I have an equal interest in writing both fiction and nonfiction. The experience of reading, of feeling what a writer could do to my head and my heart with their words, eventually moved me to see if I could do the same thing for others. I'm still trying to answer that question.

Book preview

Chapter One

BARTRAM HABITAT

Pr’pri Star System

THEY GREW UP AS SIBLINGS, a girl with two older brothers, although two families – and species – were involved. As children, as playmates, it was a simple enough arrangement, but that simplicity could not last. Had, in fact, ended. And now, as young adults, as such things are reckoned among Humans and Leyra’an, it had all gone well past complicated. The agreement reached in their teens, that they would continue to love each other as siblings, and as siblings only, come what may, was strained to the breaking point.

Yes, that’s where I’ve been, said Nol’ez Jaxi. Over at Serch’nach Station.

With Ren’awk Teslin, Rost’aht Vurn said. He tried to sound nonchalant, but it was clearly not a question.

Yes, I was with Teslin. She worked to keep her tone light and her expression mild. She saw Paul looking from her to Vurn, and then back again. He raised an eyebrow. Paul, at least, was not fooled by either of them. Why? What of it?

You left so suddenly, Paul Rost’aht-MacGregor explained, as usual trying to keep things calm. And you didn’t return calls. He shrugged and added, We were just concerned, that’s all.

I left a message, Jaxi pointed out.

Well, yes, you did, Paul conceded, looking down and scratching his short beard, his attempt at justification having been neatly shot down.

Vurn cut in before anything more could be said. And then you set a do-not-disturb in the comm system. You cut us off. What were we to think?

That she desired privacy? Rebecca Milhouse suggested mildly. She was a few years older than the other three, but for all practical purposes had grown up with them. It was unusual not to see all four together, sharing free time.

From us?

Jaxi saw Paul roll his eyes. He gave Jaxi a quick look and shrugged as his Leyra’an brother glared at Rebecca; she gazed back at him calmly, unfazed. Everyone, Jaxi said. Just – privacy. There was never any reason for concern, and you know it. Teslin was about to go walkabout. It could be many years before I see him again, if ever.

If ever, Paul agreed with a nod. They had all seen childhood friends go walkabout, and find lives worth living elsewhere, never to return.

Jaxi gave Paul a nod; Vurn gave him a hard stare, and then grunted in a way that could have been agreement or annoyance. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known the two of you, she said. And he was – special. I wanted to make sure he understood that.

It took a week? Vurn demanded.

Seeing the look on Rebecca’s face, one that presaged regrettable words, Jaxi decided it was time to shut this subject down. As coolly as she could, she said, A week was all the notice I had. I made full use of the time he left us.

"I am surprised you did not go off with him," Vurn said in a low voice, looking away from her.

I have no interest in a permanent relationship at this time. The other two would take that statement at face value. For Vurn it would mean something more. Jaxi found it more difficult by the moment to at least sound calm.

No one can tell you otherwise, Paul said in agreement. But he was looking at Vurn, not Jaxi, as he spoke.

Jaxi wondered, then, if Paul actually knew that Vurn had asked her to marry him, and that she had turned him down. Had reminded him, in her gentle refusal, of her promise in their teens. That she would never, could never, choose one of the brothers over the other. Vurn seemed to think it a promise to be left behind with childhood. What Paul thought she was not entirely sure, but from the eldest Human child of Rost’aht-MacGregor, there had been no comparable offers. He had admitted to more than sibling affection for her, but then agreed to abide by her decision to not play favorites. From Paul, there was no real pressure.

Actually, that made him the more attractive of the two, but she kept a tight rein on that thought. She truly did not want to find herself coming between them. Jaxi was convinced that no good could come of her building a life with either of her friends. She refused to be the one to put distance between the brothers. The situation as it stood had her thinking about the possibility of taking her own walkabout. But she wasn’t quite there yet, not at peace with the idea that she might need to leave for all their sakes, and more than a little resentful that it fell to her to make that decision.

She looked around as the silence between them stretched on, wondering what it would be like to be far from this place, and the people in it she had known all her life. Loved all through her life, even when they annoyed her terribly. No, she wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet.

They sat together in the thick turf around a pond, set between a trio of flethouses. The three buildings were of similar design: Human Commonwealth neo-Pueblo, crowned by upper floors with movable walls preferred by the humanoid Leyra’an. That of Nol’ez, Jaxi’s home, was tree-shaded and lightly landscaped. The home of Rost’aht-MacGregor was a veritable botanical garden, surrounded by flowers and shrubs of many colors from several worlds, with a large kitchen garden and a larger vineyard. The Milhouse residence, by comparison, was unadorned, being the newest of the three, completed just three years before.

The shallow pond beside them was decorated with water lilies, irises, and clumps of cattails, and occupied by several ducks and a pair of swans. Peter’s Pond, it was called, after a long-ago incident. Over their heads curled the rest of their world, a distant mosaic of brown, green, and blue that rose up into the misty distance on either hand, until it was lost in the glare of the axial lamp.

Visitors from stations in the remnants of the Republic would look around, eyes wide in wonder, boggled by the immensity of this inverted world. To the four seated by the pond, watching their younger siblings race about on the lawn nearby, it was merely home. Even Rebecca, born of the Republic, seldom remarked on the wonder of the place any more.

The pond and the flethouses were set at the base of a low hill. Halfway up the side of the hill sat a group of five women, of whom two were Leyra’an and three were Human. Jaxi waved at them, and they responded in kind. One of the Leyra’an women was her mother, Nol’ez Wirolen. Beside Wirolen sat the mothers of Vurn and Paul, Rost’aht Melep and Alicia Rost’aht-MacGregor, respectively. Rebecca’s mother, Jeanine, was the other Human in the hillside gathering. There was one other person, a blonde woman who appeared Human, but was not.

Some meters away from where Jaxi and company sat, half a dozen children dashed around, pursuing and pursued by three men who laughed and fell rolling on the grass as often as the children did. In and out of that noisy bunch raced a stocky, reptiloid han’anga and a large black feline many times the size of the average house cat. Paul’s father, the renowned Robert Rost’aht-MacGregor, was one of the men in the melee. Her own father, Nol’ez Jonathan – called John by most who knew him - was another. Running toward the pond was Gregory Milhouse, Rebecca’s father, who was threatening to throw Rebecca’s youngest brother into the pond. With Wirolen and Alicia, these were among the great heroes of the Faceless War.

The father of Rost’aht Vurn was not among them. The Faceless War had claimed his life. He was a fond memory for Vurn and Paul, and a fainter one for Jaxi, who could only just recall the large, dark-scaled Leyra’an man called Rost’aht Holm.

The war that had taken the father from his son, and from Rebecca her beloved older sister, was the reason they were gathered as they were. As the appointed hour approached, the folk of Bartram Habitat were all setting aside tasks and, if they were indoors, stepping out into the open. Many joined the growing crowds that filled all the usual gathering places, while others remained closer to home, with family and friends, as all those in Jaxi’s sight had done.

Elsewhere in Pr’pri System, and in many systems of the far-flung Grand Concordance, it was the same. A time of observance and remembrance would soon begin. It would start with bell tones, followed by a moment of silent reflection. This would be the twentieth anniversary of the moment in which the Faceless had been defeated – according to the official story known to most. Everywhere in the vast habitat that enclosed them, all the beings in residence, regardless of species, would stand in silence for a full minute to honor those who had died to bring that horrific war to its abrupt end. Afterward, they would celebrate the varied lifeways those sacrifices had preserved.

The younger children of the families Rost’aht-MacGregor, Milhouse, and Nol’ez played in the meantime, kept together by their fathers. Jaxi watched the antics and smiled, remembering her own rough-and-tumble play with the Rost’aht-MacGregor boys and their fathers. There was more than a touch of melancholy to those memories, knowing as she did those times were forever behind her now, but that seemed in keeping with the occasion.

Sylvia is on her way home for a visit, said Paul, pulling her from the realm of memories with a change of subject that was surely deliberate.

She has finished walkabout to her satisfaction so soon? Jaxi asked, glad of the change.

I don’t believe so, Paul replied. "She’s serving as part of the entertainment crew aboard the grand liner Edwin Teale, and we’re part of the current loop. My understanding is that she will leave with the liner when it departs."

Grand liners usually linger for several months, Rebecca said. So, we’ll have a nice long visit.

I expect there will be quite a party when she arrives, Jaxi said.

Oh, to be sure, said Paul. It’ll be a fine thing to see her again after almost three years. Won’t it? He reached over and nudged Vurn’s knee when he saw that his brother was paying no attention, lost in thought.

Vurn flinched and visibly dragged himself back into the here-and-now from wherever his own thoughts had strayed. What? Oh, yes, Sylvia. It will certainly be good to have her home for a while. Even if her arrival starts every tongue wagging about walkabout.

It isn’t as if there’s a law, Paul muttered, grimacing.

To listen to our parents, you’d think otherwise, said Vurn.

"Well, we are all past the age when most people go walkabout, Jaxi pointed out. And most consider it a healthy thing. Good for the personal development, and all that."

Your folks have stopped nudging? asked Vurn.

With a rude snort, Jaxi shook her head and said, No, they haven’t. She almost said, then, that she was considering taking the journey they urged upon her, but just couldn’t bring herself to speak the words. Time enough for that if she decided to leave.

They were all well into their second decade, the three not quite siblings. Most of the children they’d grown up with were traveling by then, making their ways through either the Confederation of Clans, the Commonwealth, or some other part of the Grand Concordance. What was popularly called walkabout, a Human term for a concept common to most humanoid species, was seen as a voyage of self-discovery. All children were strongly encouraged to leave home when they felt able to deal with life sans parents, and see what the universe had to offer. Some eventually came home, while others found a home elsewhere.

Walkabout was not a requirement, and not everyone took the journey – Rebecca had never embraced the concept. But among Humans of the Commonwealth, and especially the Leyra’an, not to go walkabout was considered unusual.

A ball arced over their heads, followed first by Gava’mi the han’anga and then by Dya’lis the ocelot. With yelps of surprise and annoyance, all four of them sprawled sideways to avoid being struck. And yelled even louder in protest, when chilly pond water splashed them. No one was seriously soaked, but they had been so taken by surprise that their protests were out of proportion to the volume of water.

Protests soon turned to laughter, born of relief that the tension growing between them had been broken by the sudden distraction. The han’anga and its feline playmate emerged from the pond, each gripping one side of the yellow ball between its teeth. Gava’mi was half again the size of the cat, but Dya’lis was clearly holding her own. Jaxi snatched the ball from them and hurled it at the youngsters; the animals raced off in pursuit.

A companionable silence settled over them for a few minutes, until the warning chimes sounded.

It’s time, said Paul, rising smoothly to his feet.

The others followed suit. The time of remembrance and memorial was at hand.

Rebecca had the clearest and most painful memories of the four. Her older sister had been among the dead when all was said and done. The younger trio had been shipped off to the safety of a different star system before the enemy had finally assaulted Pr’pri System, and had learned only after the fact that their families had sustained terrible losses.

They stood in a line, the two girls in the middle, and held hands, each lost in thought. For Jaxi, memories of the war were as vague as her recollection of Rost’aht Holm. She remembered being rushed off to another star system. She had made that voyage with the boys and Rost’aht Melep, then pregnant with the child who would become Rost’aht Sylvia, named to honor the memory of Rebecca’s lost sister. What Jaxi remembered more clearly were the changes that swept through her world after they all had come home. To the Sibling Species she had known all her life – the dwarfish gray Grahlin, the slender, elegant black Nesvama, and the hulking, dark-furred Hroom – new species were added. One was another Sibling Species, the Rusalas, who looked Human until their eye sockets shifted to express their moods. And there was a species who was not the product of Human manipulation in another time line – in a history parallel to her own – the insectoid T’lack. The sight of them had frightened her so badly at first.

The T’lack, who had come to the aid of Humanity and its allies, tipping the balance of the Faceless War. And then faced dire circumstances of their own, circumstances that had been resolved when the Grand Concordance intervened and negotiated peace between the T’lack and the distant Correlation. That assembly of spacefaring species included the truly alien and highly advanced beings Humans called the Radials. With that intervention had come the greatest of all technological changes, when the Radials shared their ability to generate and control gravity.

Jaxi and her friends had grown up with and been shaped by these changes.

Jaxi looked up the hill, then out at the three men with their now silent, if fidgety, collection of offspring. She wondered what sort of memories came to them, who had been adults two decades before, as the moment of silent observance continued. All of them looked down, or off into a distance that was not physical.

The moment passed, and with her friends, Jaxi looked up and around as the Bartram habitat seemed to fill with the ringing of bells. And as the bells rang, the blonde woman who was seated with the mothers on the hill appeared, now in two places at once, standing beside Paul. The soft chime of Simone’s arrival was nearly lost in the noise, but no one was startled by the sudden appearance of the Artificial’s avatar. They had known Simone, the Artificial who inhabited Bartram Habitat, for most of their lives.

Rebecca, I have the most excellent news to share, Simone announced with a smile, blue eyes gleaming.

About what? Rebecca asked.

It’s that last probe you sent off to Godsend, Simone replied. It came back.

Stunned silence followed the announcement. All four knew what Simone meant, and all of them felt the impact of that news. Their young lives had been dominated by studies of anything to do with the Faceless, and by the work of acquiring the skills it was thought would be needed to one day visit and examine long lost Godsend System, former home base for the Faceless.

That’s a good sign, Rebecca said carefully. But what are the nodal stability readings?

Jaxi held her breath as the inevitable and necessary question was asked. A small, automated probe could travel through a gravimetric node that was less than completely stable. A crewed ship of even modest size would need a much greater margin of safety. The return of the probe did not guarantee that their long-hoped-for expedition was now at hand.

The node has stabilized, Simone replied. It’s at point ninety-seven with class five oscillations. As this news brought shouts of joy from the four friends, she added, The way is open.

Chapter Two

BARTRAM HABITAT

Rost’aht-MacGregor Residence

AS THE TOLLING OF BELLS fell silent, the mothers on the hillside made their way to level ground, and a reunion with the rest of their extended family. They paused and watched as their husbands herded a now noisy pack of children toward their respective residences.

Twenty years. Alicia Rost’aht-MacGregor shook her head in disbelief, brushing a stray lock of red hair back from her eyes.

Two long decades, said Jeanine Milhouse, standing beside her. "Or hardly any time at all. I’m never really sure how it feels. How it should feel."

Perhaps that’s because none of us can really believe such a thing could even happen, said Rost’aht Melep, Alicia’s brown-scaled Leyra’an partner, or eli’sana, as the other woman would say. And yet it surely did.

I’ve learned to live with it, Alicia said. The fourth and fifth members of their group had led the way down. Now, Simone and Nol’ez Wirolen paused and looked back as these words were spoken, watching them with eyes bright blue and Leyra’an amber, respectively. I’ve acknowledged that it happened. That Holm and so many others are dead and gone. But truly accept it? She shook her head.

Acceptance is the heart of the Way of Leyra’an, said Wirolen. It is a worthy ideal, but in truth, there are times when all that can be accepted is the need to let go and move on. Times when acknowledgment that a thing happened and its consequences are real, are as close to acceptance as a heart can bear.

Truth, said Jeanine, looking down and surely remembering the death of her elder daughter in the war.

I envy so many of the experiences you share, all of you flesh and blood beings, said Simone, looking wistful. But not those of the Faceless War.

You have your own experiences of the war, said Alicia. The very last of it, anyway.

That’s true, Simone replied, giving Alicia a pointed look. "We do."

To which Alicia just nodded acknowledgment.

The four grown children of the assembled families drew Alicia’s gaze. There was Vurn, tall, dark-scaled and broad-shouldered, the son of Melep and the late Holm. Paul was her own son by her husband Robert, and like his father was tall, slim and dark-haired. Unlike his father, he sported a tidy beard and moustache. Rebecca was Human, very fair of complexion, as was typical of folk from the Human Republic, and very much the image of her mother Jeanine. And there was Jaxi, the very first fusion child, a melding of genomes from Wirolen, her Leyra’an mother, and John, who was altogether Human. They were all so beautiful in their way.

She looked at them with concern. They really should go walkabout, she said. Then with a glance at Jeanine, added, Meaning ours and Jaxi.

It’s not a tradition in the Republic, that’s true, said Jeanine. But Rebecca has mentioned adopting the Commonwealth practice of youthful wandering. And that of the Leyra’an. She is, after all, as much a child of your cultures as she is of the Republic.

"They need to not be in the same place together," Melep agreed.

"Yia, Wirolen added, a Leyra’an word of agreement. And I believe my daughter may be the first to leave."

Really? Jeanine asked.

Something she said yesterday, Wirolen explained. Words to the effect that young Teslin’s departure has caused her to reconsider the matter.

Melep sighed and muttered a Leyra’an expression of annoyance, too quietly for the translation system to catch. Alicia caught it, as did Wirolen. When Melep realized she had been heard, she looked up and said, My son proposed to her, just before she went to Serch’nach Station with Teslin.

So much for their long-standing agreement, Alicia said.

Why would Vurn seek to end it? asked Simone.

Because he will one day soon be Rost’aht, Melep replied. By the Way of Leyra’an, he needs a wife to fill the role of household matriarch.

And has decided my daughter Jaxi would be the right choice? Wirolen asked. Paul surely did not respond well to that decision. I know he loves his brother, but there are limits.

If Paul knows about this, he hasn’t let on, Alicia said. "And if Jaxi is even hinting at leaving, I’d say it’s pretty obvious what she thinks about that proposal."

Rebecca hasn’t said anything, either, said Jeanine. All assembled knew that Vurn and Rebecca had been involved in an on-again-off-again relationship for the past year.

They will never know themselves truly as individuals if they remain each in the shadows of the others, said Melep. Their feelings for each other will end in conflict and heartbreak. We must encourage them to go their separate ways, for a time at least.

Agreed, said Wirolen.

Yes, Alicia added without hesitation. Her own walkabout had led her to join the old Commonwealth Survey, in which she had met her husband Robert and, in the course of their last mission, the people known as the Leyra’an. The results of her own son’s walkabout might not be so dramatic, but she was quite certain it was what he needed. I’ll talk to Paul tomorrow.

And I will speak to Vurn, said Melep, adding with a sigh, for all the good it will likely do.

The youngsters having dispersed to their own homes, the men came across the lawn to join the conversation. As they approached, Alicia realized that Simone had manifested a second time, now standing with the four young adults as well. At the same moment, Simone turned to face Alicia and her friends directly.

Well, I’ll be damned! said Simone.

What?

That new probe Rebecca sent off to the Godsend System, Simone said. It came back!

Gods of all clans, Melep whispered. At long last.

You’re telling them about it? Alicia asked.

Even as we speak, Simone replied. It was rare that an artificial intelligence bothered with a holographic presence, but Simone was unique among the Artificials who had worked so long and so well with Commonwealth Humanity. She knew what it was like to be a Human being. But she was also a habmind, and perfectly capable of functioning in more than one place at a time.

Those four are certainly up about something, said Robert as the men joined them. He nodded toward the pond.

Godsend system is open, Alicia told the three men. Simone just told us that Rebecca’s most recent probe came back.

Finally. Greg Milhouse turned to look to where the quartet stood with Simone by the pond. Persistence pays in the end.

Patience and persistence, Alicia said. We stopped sending them for a long time because the calculations indicated a possibly decades-long wait. Six years ago, the probability of stability increased enough to make it worth trying. But until now, the basic probes we sent have simply vanished.

They would, Robert said. For all practical purposes, those coordinates are a vectorless transit, so long as the node remained unstable. Those probes all went elsewhere, if they didn’t disintegrate.

Well, it’s a viable vector now, Alicia said.

My daughter must be ecstatic, Greg said. They all knew that Alicia’s protégé had taken on the task of patiently monitoring the situation, as thankless a task as the Sibling Species Institute had to offer.

That would be an understatement, Alicia replied with a nod toward the pond.

They all followed her gaze, and grinned. The four young people were hugging each other, laughing and talking in loud voices, while their han’anga and ocelot companions raced around them, sharing the excitement without needing to know the cause. They knew happiness when they saw it.

Did Becca just kiss Vurn? John asked with a laugh. I thought the Leyra’an didn’t go in for that?

He doesn’t seem to object, said Greg.

It is possible to grow accustomed to certain Human habits, Wirolen said, slipping her arm around John’s waist.

So I’ve noticed, said John.

Alicia laughed and gave Melep, her eli’sana, a little Leyra’an smile that revealed no teeth. Toothy Human grins were a thing much slower to find acceptance among the Leyra’an. I always thought they had some promise as a couple, she said.

He only has eyes for another, Melep pointed out.

Uh, at the moment, I beg to differ. John pointed back to where the quartet stood, still celebrating Simone’s news.

Good heavens, Robert said with a short laugh.

It will not last, Wirolen said. No one distracts him from Jaxi for very long.

All the more reason for her to go walkabout, said Melep. Although this news may delay a final decision on her part.

It almost certainly will, said Alicia. Those four have spent years preparing themselves for the possibility Godsend would reopen. Learning and developing skills, studying what little we know of the place and of the Faceless. I seriously doubt any of them will go off star-hopping now that the way is open.

No, said John, sounding disappointed. No, probably not.

How soon will a mission be sent out to Godsend? Melep asked. The group had paused in front of the Rost’aht-MacGregor residence, ready to follow their now dispersed younger children and prepare for the evening ahead.

It’s too soon to say, Alicia replied. Simone will have a summary of the first probe data by now, but there won’t be enough to work with yet.

The drone wasn’t programmed to enter the star system’s gravity well, Simone said. It just verified nodal stability. The next probe will loop through the system and do a first-order survey before returning. The message from our launch base in Be’taya System verified that it had been sent on its way. We should have the data necessary for planning in a month or so.

Why so long? Jeanine asked.

We have a Radial-designed stepper in Be’taya System to send the probe out, Simone explained. But the return trip cannot be accomplished as directly without a similar device at the other end. The trip back uses several star systems and mass points. It’s anything but a direct route.

There was a living world in that system, if I recall correctly, Robert said.

Yes, though what shape it’s in, after several years of Faceless occupation... Alicia shrugged.

With a worried look at the quartet in question, who were still talking and gesturing with evident enthusiasm, Greg said, Maybe the distraction of their investigation will serve the same purpose as traveling.

It will be a distraction, Melep agreed. And so they will be distracted, for a time. It will not eliminate the need for a long separation.

I agree, said Jeanine. You can only suppress such emotions for so long. The excitement will die down, the work will enter a quiet phase, and their priorities will shift back.

All we can do is encourage them, said Wirolen. None of us can provide the answers they need. In the end, they must resolve these concerns for themselves.

They will, said Robert.

Without saying more, they all repaired to their respective residences, and made ready for the long and noisy celebration of life that would soon begin. And in that night of celebration, they were all able to forget such troubles for a time.

Chapter Three

WEATHERS STATION

Eriola Star System

The Commonwealth of Humanity

One Month after Remembrance Day...

The door chimed, announcing a visitor.

Come in, said Peter Harrans. One of his colleagues walked into the office.

Hey, Pete, got a moment?

Of course. Peter waved aside the reader he had been viewing, and the dataframe shrank to a point and vanished. It would return when requested, the text under review set right where he left it. Peter had been using such devices for two decades, and still the novelty, the strangeness, had yet to wear out. And this was one of the Commonwealth’s truly minor miracles.

His current state of mental health being a greater one, from his personal point of view. After his restoration, considered impossible by the Republic’s medical science, Peter often pondered the question of what the folk of the Commonwealth could not do. He believed it to be a very short list, one that was likely growing shorter.

Michael Durren was a living embodiment of yet another aspect of the Commonwealth that never failed to impress Peter. Mike had very dark skin. The Founders of the Republic had been mostly Caucasian, and the few people of other ethnicities included had faded into the limited gene pool of survivors from the original colony ship. Not so the Commonwealth, which had experienced no such bottleneck, and had released the full range of Human diversity into the universe.

That I once believed these people were my enemies surely does not reflect well on me.

The two men were members of a far-flung effort to accurately chronicle the Faceless War. Peter and Mike were engaged in something deeper than the simple chronology; theirs was the task of recording how various individuals had responded and survived – and how they’d felt about it all. It was more than a mere gathering of oral histories. Mike was the coordinator for their team, based at the Eriola System.

There was something in his expression. You look like a bearer of bad news, said Peter.

I’m not sure, Mike replied. He pulled a chair from near the wall and sat down, facing Peter across his plain, uncluttered desk. I think you’ll need to make that call.

Oh? Peter leaned back, but refrained for the moment from putting his feet up on the