Focused Vanguard Page 5

  "I don't remember everything, but I do recall she was young, much too young to be a mother. I believe she said Nathaniel was someone you disliked or something to that effect. She also passed away soon after my visit. Suicide." Avery would not tell Sun how he ended up raising Nathaniel. The reason, ever present in Avery's mind, burned with such pain he was afraid it would consume him if he ever told anyone.

  Sun nodded silently, a troubled look on his face.

  "It's all my fault," Sun finally muttered, head hung.

  "Yes, it is." Avery agreed. Sun looked taken aback.

  "This is why you're going to make amends, correct? It's a worthy goal. I'll let you know when a transport is ready." Avery added.

  Sun simply nodded. "Thank you."

  "Afterwards, you will still serve time for your actions, Corporal. Both from twenty years ago and what recently happened on Bunker Three-point-oh. Your circumstances do not excuse you."

  Sun sighed heavily, the mental instability dancing around the edges of his eyes.

  "I know." He finally said. "And I will."

  "As you were, Corporal," Avery saluted. Sun responded, his posture lacking.

  Avery turned and walked out of the cell, the door slamming shut behind him. He made his way towards the common area of the ship, an immense pressure settling around his heart. Having to remember the events of twenty years past was difficult for him. And seeing Sun now, witnessing the painful remorse for his actions in his eyes, did not help whatsoever.

  Avery headed toward one of the various cafés operating on Stasis and found himself in one titled Lost World Beverages. Seating himself at a high, circular table in the busy café, he quickly ordered a bottle of pop, which the server just as quickly delivered, dropping the drink into a small chute behind the bar where it traveled to pop out of the small grate set in the center of his table, which clanged shut, the sweating bottle landing upon it right-side up.

  Avery pried open the tab and took a long draught of the fizzling drink, stopping as it burned his mouth just the right amount. So oddly refreshing. He leaned back in the stool, resting his arms on the table for additional balance as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to reminisce about the events of twenty-two years ago.

  Colonel Avery sat in the home of Megan Fredricks, looking very out of place wearing his starched, pristine uniform, sitting as erectly as possible on the worn beige couch in the toasty living room. The ceiling fan spun furiously but only made Avery feel that it was even warmer. Miss Fredricks sat awkwardly in front of him, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that barely reached her thighs and a long shirt that extended to her knees.

  She wasn't used to hosting visitors like Avery. She was only twelve years old, after all. That only made Avery's visit even more difficult.

  "Miss Fredricks, there is no easy way to say this. Sun Fang is dead. He was killed in action by Eradan forces. He protected thousands of people with his sacrifice. You should be proud." Avery's throat was dry. What could he say to ease the pain? The words escaped him. Miss Fredricks sat very still, a flicker of emotion showing in the single tear that streaked down her unblemished face.

  "When was this?" She asked, in an emotionless tone that belied a storm of emotions that lay beneath the surface.

  "July twenty-second." Answered Avery as he pulled Sun Fang's wristwatch out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  "That was when he called," She muttered, turning the wristwatch over, inspecting it.

  "Yes, I saw he had made an effort to contact you. He has no living relatives. You were the closest person to him, we decided."

  Miss Fredricks nodded her head in acknowledgement as she continued to study the wristwatch. Then her expression changed and she threw the wristwatch to the wood floor, where it broke with a spark of electricity and a crunch. Avery jumped at the sudden action. Miss Fredricks' face had turned from pale to a blotchy, ugly red as her pink lips quivered uncontrollably and tears flowed down her cheeks, dripping from her small chin to the floor.

  "Sun Fang raped me, Colonel," She spat as she stood before him, shaking uncontrollably. "I barely survived and I still was forced to give birth to his demon child. I want nothing of his."

  Avery sat still, stunned. Miss Fredricks continued to shake but collapsed back down into her chair, pulling strands of her long blond hair, bunching them up in her hands as she hid her face in them.

  You fool, Avery thought, remembering years ago the decision his friend, his best friend Sun Fang had made. Avery had warned him the C.E. serum was dangerous.

  Look at what your decision has sown and reaped.

  "I'm so sorry," Avery said, feeling at a loss for words. He stood up to leave. Miss Fredricks spoke with a venomous tone as he approached the front door.

  "If you're so sorry, you would give me some money for Sun's baby. I named him Nathaniel, since that was the last thing I heard Sun say. He sounded angry. I hope he hated him." She returned to sobbing uncontrollably.

  Colonel Avery had felt a heavy weight of sadness before he had knocked on Miss Fredricks door' earlier this afternoon. He hadn't expected to feel even worse. Still, he knew what had to be done.

  "Give me the child, Miss Fredricks. I think I can find a good place for him." Miss Fredricks stopped her sobbing long enough to clear her throat, point out the front window to a large pile of refuse in her yard and say, "He's in there," And then sat back down, resuming her crying.

  At a loss for words, Colonel Avery simply walked out the front door towards the large mound of garbage. As he neared it, he heard a faint noise. A baby cooing weakly. Sickened further, he followed the sound and walked around the pile until he saw a gaunt baby boy wrapped in a dirty frayed blanket laying atop an old rusty box, his skin sunburned raw and one of his eyes missing, blood a dried streak across his cheek from the gaping socket, the missing eye being actively gnawed on by a rat nearby.

  Avery shot the rat until it was a smoking pile of ash and deftly scooped the baby up in his arms, pulling the blue blanket tight around him. Avery fought back some rare tears as he gently stroked baby Nathaniel's forehead with his thumb, causing the boy's eye to open. Avery briskly walked the baby with one piercing, bright blue eye to his transport. He smiled at the baby and the baby began to cry.

  Avery shook Nathaniel's delicate, sunburned and skeletal hand as he grabbed on to Avery's index finger with a desperation too strong for a baby. Tears spilled onto Avery's face.

  "Nice to meet you, Nathaniel."

  Admiral Avery shook himself out of his reverie, distracted by the concerned looks of passerby and other patrons. His face was wet, but he did not move to wipe them away. It was good that he could remember how he felt that day. That day had changed him in ways he couldn't have possibly known at the time.

  That was the day, Avery realized, he had begun to surrender; to live to fight another day. The very strategy that had won the war for the Alliance. All thanks to Nathaniel's influence on his life. His old body shook as fresh tears streamed down his already soaked cheeks, a toothy smile splitting his wrinkled lips.

  A concerned female patron expressed her concern, but Avery waved her off, shaking his head. He stood, vacating his seat and took the pop bottle with him as he resumed his walk down the wide corridors that housed the last remnants of the Lost World. All was well, he decided. His son would be made whole. Praise be to Oldallah!

  Chapter 8

  "How do you feel?" asked Nate, his tongue still marring the words. He would learn, eventually, how to speak properly. That fact alone kept him immeasurably happy. Sun Fang didn't answer him immediately, first leaning his head back into the black cloth headrest of their military transport as it bumbled along the dusty desert of Air-ree-zone-ah, as Sun had called it. It was a desolate province of the Lost World.

  "I still can't believe it," Replied Sun, his voice husky with emotion, his chin slightly trembling.

  "I can't believe that this isn't a dream—that I'm not still on Bunker Three-Point-Oh. Do you know how long I've
waited for this day?"

  Nate shook his head, the gleaming metal insignia of an officer bouncing against his bone white uniform. He glanced out the tinted windows at the grand mountains in the far distance. One of them loomed closer than the others.

  "A long time," Sun simply said, leaning his head back again to rest against his seat, closing his eyes.

  Nate regarded him with a smile. The past three months, no, quarter, had been slightly hectic, what with Sun's sentencing, Nate's accepted application into the officer corps, and their journey to Asylum, the max security prison on Old Earth. But looking at Sun, seeing his relaxed countenance, Nate felt that peace in his heart. It brought a small tear to his eye, knowing that through all that he and his father Sun had suffered and endured, they were able to reach this point of tranquility, of inner harmony.

  As the media kept repeating, "It's all over, all over now."

  Sun and Nate just had one more step of their journey to complete.

  Nate stretched his large legs out in the extremely spacious backseat of the military transport, careful not to bump the driver's seat. He didn't want to annoy either of the officers in the front seats. They had been pulled from leave by Avery to drive Nate and Sun through an empty desert on an abandoned planet. They certainly couldn't be at all happy, no, ecstatic, about this assignment.

  "How much further?" Nate asked the officers gently, not wanting to antagonize them or wake Sun from his well-deserved but loud slumber. He took care to enunciate his words. The officer in the passenger seat shifted a little in his seat as he looked closer at the navigational screen in his hands.

  "Estimated arrival in fifteen minutes. Are you two positive there's anything up there?" the officer asked, squinting through the windshield at the shadowed slope of the approaching mountain.

  Nate nodded. "Dad—Admiral Avery doesn't forget things easily. If there is where he says it is, then it's up there, I promise."

  The officer grunted in response, directing his attention back to his navigational device. The driving officer turned left onto the mountain road, the path sloping sharply upwards. The already rough road became rougher as they began their ascent up the mountain, the seemingly infinite switchbacks causing Nate's stomach to churn.

  As their ears began to pop from their increasing elevation, Nate looked out his side window at the desert valley below, old silver buildings still brightly reflecting the intense light of the afternoon desert sun. Nate didn't know the name of the city he saw—beheld—but he knew it was where his biological mother had grown up.

  As he stared out the window onto the abandoned city below, he let his mind wander and found himself imagining how much different his life would've been if his mother had kept him, and his father hadn't had to go off to war, but instead could've stayed on Earth. And despite the nature of his conception, the two of them could've reconciled and fallen in love. Nate would've been cured almost immediately after birth of his Ape mutation, and he never would've become the physically flawless monstrosity he was now.

  His parents would've helped him learn how to walk. Learn how to talk. Learn how to read. Learn how to add and subtract numbers. His mother would play with him in her precious free time, busy with the affairs of their house. His father would come home, and Nate would race to him and he would take Nate up into his arms. Nate would tell him all about his day and how much fun he had.

  His father would smile and put his Old Earth-style hat on Nate's too-small head, speaking encouraging words. His mother would come around the corner and Dad would take her in his other arm, drawing her close to them. They would all smile and laugh and enjoy each other's wonderful company.

  His parents would've doted on him, cared for him—loved him.

  Why couldn't that have been his fate?

  Nate shook himself out of his reverie and wiped at the tears on his face. He berated himself immediately. The past is the past, and nothing can be done to change it, except by improving for the future. As Nate continued to look upon the shining city of his long-dead mother, he made a decision. If he ever could have a family, he would be the kind of father that did the things he dreamed of. Like Avery, the man who raised him; his true father. If only the war hadn't needed him more, perhaps Nate could've had those memories in reality, not just in imagination.

  The transport slowed to a stop and the driving officer turned off the engine.

  "We're here," He said.

  Nate jostled Sun's shoulder lightly to wake him. Sun woke with a start, then realization sparked in his eyes.

  "We're here?" Sun breathed, stepping out of the transport as his side slid open.

  "I got the flowers—bouquet," Nate said, pulling the beautiful arrangement out from behind his seat.

  Sun walked over to him and took the bouquet, seemingly in a trance, as he stepped to face the stone path that lay before them.

  "Take as much time as you need," The driving officer said kindly, getting back into the transport with the other officer.

  "Well, let's go." Nate said, the two strolling along the broken steps. As they pushed their way through a particularly thick bunch of brush, Nate noticed, or rather, observed, that there were small structures made of wood peppering the wooded landscape. Cabins, they were called cabins—he couldn't quite remember their name at first.

  As they made their way further down the path, they noticed a small, faded wooden sign hanging overhead. Nate couldn't make out what the words were, they were too faint, faded by time.

  "Camp Zion," Sun read without looking, plodding forward with an even pace, his eyes dead set on what lay before him. Nate saw an incredible hunger in his eyes—Sun was so close to fulfilling his quest of twenty-two years.

  "Camp Zion," Nate mouthed, wondering what "Zion" meant as they moved ever forward. He searched for definitions through his eye's interface as he strode along, but there were no matches found. He'd have to ask Sun about it later. They walked just a short distance further, turned around a large collocation of trees—pine trees, Nate guessed—and there before them stood, alone, a tombstone, as white as the day it had been dug into the earth.

  As they approached the headstone with a sense of reverence, Nate read the inscription:

  Here lies Megan Mary Fredericks

  May 2116- April 2134

  "You were too precious for this world"

  R.I.P.

  Sun stepped a short distance from the white headstone, knelt on both knees and placed the bouquet tenderly upon the mantle of the tombstone. He reached inside the dark jacket he wore, and pulled out several pieces of paper, full of dark red writing, torn as if from a book—or journal, Nate realized—and set them down underneath the bouquet. Placing his fists on the bare earth, he bowed his head.

  "Megan, please… Please, forgive me," Sun asked, his body beginning to be wracked with powerful sobs. Nate turned away to fight his own sudden tears but continued to listen. Sun poured out his soul to her, how awful he felt, would always feel, about what he did to her, that he had waited for decades to make things right.

  "And Megan, look, here, here is Nate, your son—our son," Sun turned to Nate, gesturing him to come forward. Nate knelt down next to him, but his large stature compared to Sun made him feel a little silly. Like he was the dad and Sun was the son. He chuckled inwardly at the same-sounding words—no, no, homonyms.

  "Look at how handsome he is. He has your eyes… uh, eye. I know you couldn't raise him, but I hope you know that he is a wonderful young man and that you should be proud of him."

  Sun turned back to Nate, with a look that intimated that he should now do what he had come for.

  Slowly and carefully, Nate pulled off the pouch hung round about his neck. He opened it, shaking out the piece of blanket that had been with him since he could remember. It was a symbol of a memory. A loving mother, a happier life; a lie.

  Nate had needed that lie. But no more. Kneeling down, he placed the cloth fragment on top of the tombstone and bowed his head.

  "Mom… I wan
t you to know that you have always been with me. In my worst moments, it was always you I could turn to, by using that bit of fabric. You always believed in me when no one else would. You led me to my father. You have done so much for me.

  "And now, it's time for me to honor you. Mom… I love you." And with that, Nate stood back up and backed away from the grave, afraid he may have said some wrong things. But it was how he felt.

  Sun seemed to approve.

  "Like I said, a wonderful young man," Sun said, stepping up to the white, smooth stone.

  Nate looked away. He guessed he had said everything right. Not that it was a lie, no—Nate had come to finally make true peace with his mother, and he had done so. He then realized what was bothering him so much. It was Sun, his father.

  There was so much that Nate felt about him, and it was so different, no, contrasting. The man had saved him from the darkness of his mind, given him a chance at a normal life. But he had also murdered and had planned to eat Nate's best friend. Who was Sun, really? This man he now saw, repentant and tamed? Or was he truly the monster Nate had come to fear so much on that accursed outpost? Nate shook his head vigorously, as he so often did—who knew he would get headaches from thinking too much?

  Refocusing, Nate turned back to face the grave of his mother, where Sun seemed to be ending his heartfelt apology.

  "Megan, I know I ruined your life, and if I could, I would do everything in my power to rectify the wrongs I committed against you. You didn't deserve the life you led. But I want you to know that good has come from your pain. It wasn't all in vain. The thought of you rescued me from my darkest times. Your son rescued me from a hell I thought I would never escape. I am forever in your debt, and I promise you, I will return every year to this very spot, to keep your memory alive.

  "Please, forgive me." Sun knelt there for a moment. A sudden, silent gust of wind rustled the journal pages that lay pinned underneath the flowers without a sound. Nate thought that was strange, no, unnerving.