Harry's Sacrifice (21 page)

“You’re welcome,” Harry answered politely, then stepped aside as Roshin touched his back.

“Roshin, daughter, you have fulfilled your destiny better than any of us could have imagined, and I am proud of your efforts on your people’s behalf.”

“Thank you, Patriarch.” Roshin bowed her head slightly in respect as she acknowledged him and then stepped aside.

Which left only Cormac—the unexpected quantity—blocking Ronin’s path to the two ancients who stood slightly higher than everyone else on the lower end of the ramp leading to their ship. Ronin needed to find the right words to placate the warrior-scientist, but Cormac preempted him.

“Why do you call Roshin
daughter
? She is Alvian. We can claim no parents,” Cormac asked with a hint of anger. Ronin had to hold back a smile of satisfaction. The young warrior had taken the cure and emotion was beginning to show. Ronin was pleased.

“All members of the Brotherhood are my sons and daughters,” he answered simply. He heard hushed murmurs from the kneeling people behind him, but nobody dared speak louder than a whisper.

“As it should be, Patriarch,” Hara spoke for the first time, moving down the ramp and placing one hand on Cormac’s shoulder.

Cormac moved out of the way, still clearly skeptical but willing to take orders from Hara Prime. And what Alvian
wouldn’t
be willing to take orders from the ancient savior of their race? Ronin did smile this time, unable to hold back his satisfaction as he greeted the ancient.

As Hara stood before him, Ronin Prime did something no
Zxerah
Patriarch had done in a thousand years. He went to one knee before Hara Prime, taking the ceremonial, but very deadly, blade he’d worn at his side out of the scabbard and offering it, blade flat across both his palms, to Hara. It was the ultimate sign of respect, and a clear pledge of fealty.

“The
Zxerah
Brotherhood has hidden for many generations, but we can hide no more. Your return to us was foretold as the time when balance would be restored to our race. We have long worked toward this day, when we begin the next evolution of Alvians here on Earth. We can only hope you will allow myself and those of my Brotherhood to assist you in this great work.”

“But don’t you work for the Council? Is this not a breach of your pledge to them?” Percival spoke for the first time from Hara’s side.

“No Patriarch has offered fealty to anyone in centuries. Not since Ronin Starchaser did as I do, offering my blade and my allegiance to you, Hara.”

Hara looked at him, brow quirked in what seemed like amusement before he took the blade.

“I accepted your predecessor’s oath, Patriarch, and counted him a good friend and valued colleague through many adventures. But I left him behind when we went on our last mission,” Hara said as he regarded the blade. “In fact, this is the very blade he carried. I recognize it well from the many times he and I fought side-by-side for our people. I welcome the chance to get to know you and your Brotherhood, Patriarch, and I thank you for the gesture.”

Hara handed the blade back, hilt first. Ronin’s pledge had been accepted.

He rose. “I am Ronin, and these are some of my people…”

He held up his hands in a prearranged signal, and three of the winged Brethren descended into the landing area, flying in, displaying their wings for all to see. Behind them entered three Alvians, each accompanied by a human member of the Brotherhood. Each had been carefully chosen. Not only would they no longer have anonymity after this day, but they also had to represent their Brethren to the best of their ability. Ronin signaled the one member of each representative group forward. The Alvians, who remained kneeling all around them, watched with deep interest.

“May I present a representative from each branch of the Brotherhood. First, the pure Alvians, who have remained true to our order for many generations. This is Blevin.” The Alvian made his bow before Hara and then moved away to stand on the small but deliberate perimeter they had formed around the ancients. “And this is Eve, one of the humans we adopted into our group. She has a powerful gift of foresight.”

“There are human
Zxerah
now?” Percival mused. “How very progressive of you.” Ronin perceived the tone of irony in the ancient’s voice.

The human woman made a graceful bow and went back to her place in the protective ring. Then one of the winged Brethren took her place.

“This is Sinclair Prime. His people are a genetic experiment formed by crossing Alvian with Avarel DNA.” Murmurs increased as Sinclair Prime unfurled his wings and displayed their mighty span for inspection.

“Impressive, sir,” Hara said. “And may I say, with such advantages, I’m glad you’re on our side.” His smile was engaging and Ronin appreciated the attempt at humor.

“Their existence has been a secret until now, as has the continued survival of our Brotherhood,” Ronin said as the winged warrior fell back. “We come out of hiding now, as you do, to promote honesty and truth among our people. For too long, the Alvians now inhabiting Earth have been kept in the dark and even lied to in some cases. This is not our way. We come forward now to help promote a return to the old ways of transparency and truth in our society, starting here and now.”

“Well spoken, Patriarch,” Hara agreed, moving forward to take the center spot. Ronin fell back to the protective perimeter, as did the trio who had come with Hara aboard his ship.

Only Percival remained at the side, slightly behind his leader, who continued to speak. “For too long have I watched the Alvian conquest of Earth. When I first came here, it was true the civilization was primitive at best. Still, it was worth preserving. Humans are more than you think. I stayed here because this was the world I wanted to be the next Alvian homeworld. The other colony worlds we charted were nice, but on this one I believed we would find the answer to our race’s problems with anger and hostility. And I was right. I conducted experiments. I lived here among the primitives and had children. And they were more capable than either of our races was alone. The abilities of Harry and those like him should prove that to you all beyond doubt. The abilities of those humans who survived our barbaric attack on a highly developed civilization should have alerted you to the fact that those with psychic abilities all seem to have something in common—diluted Alvian DNA in their genetic code. They are hybrids, descended many times over from my crew.”

At this statement, the kneeling crowd began to murmur again. Mostly exclamations of surprise and a few of dismay.

“I and my crew knew what was coming. My own son, Merlin, told me of his visions of what would happen far into the future here on Earth. For that reason, many of us chose to enter stasis chambers in pods like this one, all around this planet. Some perished during the long sleep, like our dear friend, Dugan.” Hara’s face grew solemn for a moment. “Many still sleep. It will be my mission to free them.”

“What can we do to help?” asked Councilor Orin, the head of the Council, still on bended knee.

Hara smiled. “I would like to utilize Cormac’s team, if possible. They know what to expect and have all proven to be skilled.”

“Done,” came the quick reply. “Hara,” Orin began hesitantly, clearing his throat before continuing to speak. “Are you truly the Hara of old?”

Hara stepped right up to the leader of the modern Alvian Council and held out one hand to raise the Councilor to his feet.

“I am Hara. He whom you would call Hara Prime, though we had no such designations in my day.”

“What is your intention, honored Hara?” the Councilor asked in a curious tone.

“Simply to live the rest of my life among my people—both my adopted people and those among whom I was born. Though I must say, modern Alvians are quite a departure from those I knew on our home planet. Please, all of you, rise. I have been in stasis a very long time. I know the discomfort of holding one position.”

If Hara’s tone was filled with irony, few of his audience realized it, Ronin thought privately. He liked the way Hara worked the crowd with just the right touch of humility. Yet all were aware of his superiority. He had a masterful command of the situation.

“Now—” Hara turned to the Councilor when all had risen to their feet but remained in quiet awe of what was happening, “—with your permission, perhaps we can adjourn to the Council Chamber? I have no doubt you have many questions for us.”

What followed was hours of grilling questions by all the members of the Council. The floating recorders continued to whir around the room. Nobody dared ask them to be shut off, though Harry was sure at least some of the Councilors didn’t want this to be seen.

The return of Hara could very well mean loss of power for most of these Councilors. Harry knew well enough that more than a few of these people were more concerned with their own power base than with the wellbeing of their people.

Harry hoped with the return of the ancients that would be put to an end. It was about time these modern Alvians were shaken out of their cold, emotionless existence. Time for all of them to actually start living and feeling—enjoying and regretting. Doing all those things that made life most precious instead of just going through the motions of existing.

Harry was seated next to Ro and Cormac. The three of them watched and were occasionally asked for their input through hours and hours of questioning. At one point, someone brought in refreshments, for which they were all grateful.

He realized how skilled at statecraft and diplomacy Hara really was. He’d been touted as a warrior and scientist and adventurer and hero that was larger than life, but Hara also appeared to know well the ins and outs of the Council Chamber. Before long, he had the Councilors chasing their own tails verbally and otherwise tied up in logic knots from which only he could release them.

But he wasn’t being so kind. Not yet.

Hara wasn’t giving anything more away about his plans for the future than what he had already revealed. He answered questions about his past freely. He talked passionately about his time on Earth and the humans he had come to respect and admire. He talked of the great wrong committed against humanity by the modern Alvians and began to lay the groundwork for what Harry hoped would come next.

But Hara was cagey. He didn’t give them too much to deal with at one time.

Harry noticed Ronin watched calmly throughout, seated a little farther down the row from Harry, surrounded by the humans and Alvians he’d brought with him. The three winged men sat on stools at the periphery of the room—no doubt because the big wings on their backs made the auditorium seats difficult to fit.

When Harry’s attention wandered, he found himself watching the winged men with fascination. He’d known of their existence, but he hadn’t spent any time around them. Their wings were absolutely breathtaking, but they probably needed special furniture in their homes. Chairs with backs probably needed to be custom fit to accommodate their wings. And he wondered how they slept? Surely not on their backs.

“Where will you stay? We can have accommodations made ready in short order.” Councilor Gildreth’s voice penetrated Harry’s fit of inattention. It looked like the Council was finally ready to let Hara rest a bit before asking more questions. It had been a long day for all of them and many within the room were yawning covertly.

Hara’s gaze moved to Harry and lingered as he smiled. “Unnecessary,” Hara replied, holding up one hand toward the Councilor. “I will stay with my family.” Shocked whispers sounded once more throughout the room. “I understand one of my descendants has been held captive in this city for several years. I would like to meet with him and share his guest quarters, if he is agreeable.”

Harry stood, understanding without being told that Hara was exposing Caleb’s imprisonment in the most innocent way he could find. Good. The general populace of Alvians needed to know about the imprisonment of humans. This was as good a time as any to begin educating them.

“I am sure my uncle would welcome your visit, Hara. He foresaw your existence and in fact, it was he who set me on the path to release you from stasis. Even now, I’m sure he’s probably expecting us to join him for refreshment.” Harry smiled, knowing the truth of his words. Uncle Caleb was a seer of immense ability and always knew about momentous events before they happened. There was a reason they called him the Oracle.

“I look forward to meeting Caleb O’Hara and the rest of my extended family here on Earth,” Hara replied politely, already stepping away from the chair he’d been seated in for the past hours. Percival followed. He too had been questioned extensively, but he took a subordinate role to Hara.

Hara and Percival walked with Harry, Roshin and Cormac toward the part of the city where Caleb was being kept. His accommodations were markedly better than the pens beneath the city where the vast majority of human prisoners were held, but it was clear from the one-way access codes and lack of any real amenities that Caleb was still a prisoner.

Two hovering cameras followed their progress through the city, along with a contingent of the
Zxerah
who had been introduced at the Council meeting. They were not there to socialize though, they were there as protectors. An honor guard.

And it became clear after just a few steps outside the Council chamber that security of some kind would be needed. Alvians by the hundreds flocked to any corridor where they could get a glimpse of the ancients. When they emerged onto the street, thousands of Alvians had gathered. Most were silent as they observed these momentous events. Without emotion, they could only witness, but not feel either elation or awe.

A few of the soldiers in the crowd stamped their feet in a sort of cheer that echoed through the streets as Hara and his entourage walked through the throngs gathered to see the ancients for themselves. The broadcast continued as the vast majority of the gathered crowds bent to one knee as Hara passed.

Eventually, the soldiers in the city took it upon themselves to line the processional route, clearing a path about ten feet wide for the group to pass without being touched or waylaid by the more daring Alvians. It became a parade of sorts, with many Alvians following after the small group headed toward the area where Caleb was being housed.