If God Will Send His Angels
PART TWO
"You know he took the cure
You know he went astray
He used to stay awake
To drive the dreams he had away
He wanted to believe in the hands of love"
–U2, "Exit"
The sand-colored man sat up on a sand-colored blanket, in the heart of the Yggdrasil. Ramsus briefly wondered why Sigurd had chosen that god-awful shade of yellow for the decor– more likely, he amended, Maison had chosen that particular aspect of the ship's setup. Having finally met the highest-ranking Knight of the Old Aveh Guard (now largely a historical society with little or no real political or military power), he had not been terribly impressed with the man who had brought up the king who overthrew his own throne. Still, one thing had to be said– he was a good cook. Ramsus made a mental note to thank the aging knight as the last whiff of the garlicky meal from the previous night was burped out.
He took a look at the clock on the computer terminal screen saver– 0415 hours. In forty-five minutes, he reminded himself, he'd be leaving for the lighthouse, a mission from which there was likely no return. The word "likely", however, had about a fifty-fifty chance of being added to or removed from Ramsus' mental briefing at any moment. To be honest, if he left it out at the wrong moment, the girls would change it from a directive to a self-fulfilling prophecy. He brushed that thought aside as he hauled himself into the shower.
Emeralda needs me, he thought, as the warm water flowed over him. Emeralda needs my help, and everyone is counting on me. So why do I feel like I'm going to let them down? Why can't I shake the feeling that everything is going to come crashing down on top of me, and there isn't going to be a damn thing I can do about it? Running a hand through his wet hair, he paused with his palm on his forehead. Can I really do this? Can I prove the records wrong? Can I rise above what everyone said I am?
Can I ever escape being 'trash'? ...Or will I just be discarded again?
"Like I said, I always hoped, before each mission, that this would be the one. This would be the time out that paid for all, that showed them all; where I would be the big hero and Krelian and Miang would have to eat their smug, sickening insults. That was what I felt. I felt it again before the lighthouse mission.
"But I felt something else, too. Fear. Krelian was gone to walk with God, and Miang was burning in hell. So who was I proving wrong? If I came back, who would look at me and say 'A passable job, 'trash', but this is what you could have done much better'? Worse yet, what would happen to me if I failed? Would I be given a second chance? Or would this be the end? Would I be executed, at long last, for all my disgusting and shameful crimes? Was I finally going to be free?
"Little did I know that I had been freed already– but still held myself in slavery."
–Kahran Ramsus, "Autobiography"
The corridors were still dim as Ramsus strode confidently to the turbolift with his gear bag. As he passed a branching hall, Kelvena fell into step beside him. She was carrying her bag, as well. "Good morning, Commander," she said. "Did you sleep well?"
"Not really," Ramsus sighed. "But there's nothing to be done for it now. Maybe I can catch a nap on the flight."
"Sera definitely will," Kelvena giggled. "She just doesn't seem to be a morning person."
"She never was," Ramsus said, smiling. "Kel, about yesterday..."
"I told you not to remind us," Kelvena said. Her voice is so cold, Ramsus thought. "I thought you understood that."
"Well, assume for the moment that I don't," he said, his voice straining under his frustration. "What is the problem here?"
"I don't feel the need to explain that to you, Kahr," she said. "Anyway, I have a preliminary electronic reconnaissance report for you."
"Wait, how?" Ramsus said. "The Solarisnet was shut down when Etrenank fell, right?"
"The main servers were destroyed, yes," Kelvena said. "However, the wireless transmitters and satellite repeaters that were the actual infrastructure still exist."
"All right, so what did you find out about the lighthouse?"
"Absolutely nothing," she sighed. "The network has no records pertaining to the lighthouse."
"It could have them, but they could be above your access level," Ramsus said. "Have you tried..."
"I already used your login," Kelvena said. "You never changed your password, you know. But it's not an access-level problem... the files are gone."
"Did someone erase them?"
"No," Kelvena said. "I talked with Tolone, and she tried every backdoor, every hack she could think of– even down to a bit-level analysis of the drives' free space. The files never existed on any of the servers still active."
"But Solaris kept exceptionally good records and had multiple redundant backups," Ramsus said.
"Right, but the core controllers for administering the backup failovers were all in Etrenank," she said. "We don't even know where all the backup nodes are, let alone have a way to restore the files."
"How hard can it be to hide a gigantic server farm?" he said. "Someone would eventually notice it."
"Well, consider the fact that they've been buried for close to seven centuries now," Kelvena said. "They're so old that the surface-dwellers have all pretty much forgotten what they were used for, if they even knew in the first place."
"Point taken," he sighed.
"I have a hypothesis," Kelvena said. "I would be willing to bet that if there are Solaris files down there, they'll most likely be a backup node. A complete copy of the Solarisnet. Even the military records."
"Something like that would be priceless," Ramsus said. "It'd probably even have Krelian's notes."
"And why would you need those?" Kelvena asked. "Besides for Emeralda."
"It's... I want to know what he did to me," Ramsus said, sighing. "What he did to all of us."
"Dwelling on the past might not be wise," Kelvena said, concern deep within her voice. "If you look too long into it, you might find out it wasn't as good as you remember."
"What if it was?" Ramsus snapped. "What if my past was every bit as good as I remember it to be?"
"And what if it isn't?" Kelvena said. "Kahr, you've changed since then. Your outlook on life has changed. Everything has changed. Your memories haven't."
"Some things never change," he said icily.
"True," Kelvena said. "Like love."
Silence ruled the remainder of the walk.
"What Kelvena said was true, every word. I had loved those girls, just as I loved everyone else. The problem arose when I found that I loved myself too much. It's easy to lose focus when you love so many people. It's also way too easy to wind up focused so intently on the wrong thin