The Phoenix Rising (51 page)

“
I know that you are only
trying to do right by us, in your own Human way,” said Rez’nac.
“But it is best if you do not have such a service and instead let
things be.”

“
I don’t
understand.”

“
For us... we do not have
such things as funerals and memorials. Those customs are very
strange to us. An honorable death is not a time for sorrow, or for
recognizing loss. It is a great thing, the most truly beautiful
part of life—indeed, it’s the single truest experience one ever
has. One’s worthy advancement from frail mortality to join the
ancestors of us all in the Essences that bind together the
universe... that is not loss but glory.”

Calvin wished he could look upon death with
such positivity. But, despite Rez’nac’s words, he doubted the
Polarians truly felt no grief at the loss of their comrades.
However, if burying or ignoring that grief was their way, Calvin
would respect it. “A memorial doesn’t have to be a sad event,” he
said. “We could celebrate the departed, pay them tribute,
reminisce, and so on.”

Rez’nac showed tenderness in his eyes as he
gazed down at Calvin, but his expression remained hard. “I
appreciate the effort you are trying to make here, I have no doubt
you are a good human and are only trying to do right according to
your own ways. But you must understand that your ways are not our
ways. When one we care about transitions from mortality to the
Essences, we may remember them in our minds and in our hearts—and
indeed a part of them will always be with us—but we must never
speak of them out loud again. To do so would be to dishonor them.
By speaking of them as an individual, even in the past tense, is to
cheapen what they’ve become. Which is something far greater than
they ever were before. Now they are both one and many. Does that
make sense?”

Calvin nodded, but he did not understand—not
really. He hadn’t been raised in a spiritual or religious
environment and it was hard for him to wrap his head around beliefs
and ideas that were not empirically founded. Nor did it make sense
to him how the Polarians could achieve closure when dealing with
the death of a loved one if they couldn’t talk about it. But he
didn’t have to understand. If Rez’nac and the other Polarians
didn’t want a memorial service, there didn’t have to be one. “I
will respect your wishes. And want you to know that I appreciate
what you and your men did back there, and I regret the loss of
life.”

“
Thank you.”

“
And, for what it’s worth,
I’m glad you didn’t lose your son,” said Calvin, noting that Grimka
was one of the survivors. He clearly had much of his father’s
physical toughness and looked fiercely strong despite his
injuries.

“
If Grimka had joined the
Essences while being faithful to his duty, thus preserving his
sacred honor, it would have been a good and beautiful thing. I know
that,” said Rez’nac. “But between you and me, Captain,” a glint of
humanity showed in his steely eyes, “I’m grateful too.”

Calvin parted from Rez’nac. It felt good to
have expressed his thanks, but words alone seemed empty and he
wished there was something more he could do to honor the Polarians
for their sacrifice.

Eventually he got the courage to approach
Shen. The man lay unconscious on the medical cot. His face was
gaunt and much of the color had drained away. His features were
less recognizable as the infection battled inside him, slowly
converting him to a hideous Remorii. Seeing him there in that
tormented state, his ghastly body hooked up to all kinds of
machines, thick restraints pinning him down, his heartbeat on the
monitor just barely enough to keep him alive... it was
devastating.

“
Come on
,” whispered Calvin, placing his hand on Shen’s
shoulder.

Sarah was there too. Standing. Staring down
at Shen with unbelieving eyes. The two had always been close,
Calvin knew, and he’d understood that Shen’s fate would wound Sarah
deeply, but seeing her this broken was a genuine surprise.

“
Why...?
” she asked, now looking at Calvin with swollen eyes that were
drowning with tears that wouldn’t stop. “
Why did...?
” she couldn’t get out any
more words.

He’d never seen her like this. Sarah had
watched friends die before. She’d even faced death herself when
none of them believed they would survive Abia. And every time, in
every grim situation, Sarah had been the very picture of grace
under pressure. Her spirit always positive, almost unnaturally
uplifted—as if buoyed by some otherworldly force. But now all of
her strength had forsaken her. She stared, hopeless and
dumbfounded. Spirits shattered. A complete wreck. She struggled
even to breath as she choked back the sobs. Trembling. She looked
like she might fall over at any minute.

Not knowing what else to do, Calvin walked
up to her and instinctively put his arms around her. She hugged him
back weakly, as if she barely had the strength to lift her
arms.

“
Why?” she asked
again.

He hushed her and then in a soft, soothing
tone said, “it’s alright.” He held her until her body stopped
shaking, then he let her go. “Go get some rest.”

At first she resisted, too stunned to move
or do anything, obviously not wanting to leave Shen’s side until he
made a full recovery. But Calvin eventually convinced her and she
left. Giving Shen one long, desperate glance before going. When she
was gone, Calvin took a deep breath and wondered what the right
thing to do was.

It wasn’t the first time he’d stood next to
a loved one who’d been infected by a Remorii virus and watched as
the best medical technology seemed unable to save them. Christine
had been in such limbo for a long time, suffering in ways Calvin
could only imagine. Constantly tortured by the battle raging inside
her. He recalled how the ordeal had aged her years, even decades.
When they’d finally revived her and told her the fight against the
infection was a stalemate at best, she’d begged them to end her
life. To let her die. Seeing her like that, hearing those words,
knowing that such a horrible outcome was probably for the best—but
being unable to accept it—had broken Calvin. And something precious
and innocent inside him had been lost forever. Now, as he relived
history—like a bad recurring dream—he knew that Shen was suffering
a similar fate. And he couldn’t let his friend keep suffering.

Rain came over and checked several of the
monitors that were plugged into Shen.

“
What’s the
prognosis?”

“
His vitals have stabilized,
that’s good,” she said. “But the infection is still progressing.
I’ve slowed it down but... it’s
surprisingly
aggressive. I’ve never
seen anything like it. I’ll have to try something else.” She seemed
frustrated, clearly feeling empathy for her patient, but showed no
sign of giving up. Calvin doubted Rain had ever given up on
anyone.

“
I’ve seen this infection
before,” said Calvin. He looked away from her and back down at
Shen. His gaunt and sickly face made Calvin flinch inside. Clearly
the man was dying. “The physicians at SB 37’s medical facility were
unable to reverse it.”

“
That’s too bad,” said Rain.
“But that doesn’t mean the condition isn’t reversible.” Fire glowed
in her countenance and Calvin liked that about her. That she had a
fighter’s spirit. But he thought maybe she was being
unrealistic.

“
Eventually the physicians
brought the patient to consciousness and...” he swallowed hard,
“she asked for the right to die.”

“
What are you saying?” Rain
gave him an alarmed look.

Calvin didn’t want Shen to die. He was a
dear friend and probably the most talented and useful member of the
crew. But he also didn’t want Shen to suffer unnecessarily,
especially if they were only delaying the inevitable. “I can’t help
but wonder if we’re really doing him a favor keeping him here.”

Rain’s eyes narrowed sharply.

“
I mean,” Calvin went on,
finding the words difficult to utter but necessary. “I don’t think
we should let him suffer any more than he has to.”

“
I won’t administer a fatal
dose of anything,” said Rain. “Nor will I simply let a patient
die.”

“
I understand,” said Calvin.
“But I
will
administer a fatal dose if it’s the only way to stop the
suffering. In fact, I should be the one to do it, since he
sacrificed himself to save me.”

“
If he’s still alive even
the tiniest bit,” said Rain, “then that means it’s not his time. We
can’t just give up
. I
won’t
.”

“
If he is experiencing
intense suffering,” said Calvin, “and there is no possibility that
he can be saved, I’m not willing to let him keep suffering. As his
friend, how could I?”

Rain seemed like she didn’t
believe what she was hearing. “Don’t give up on him,” she said.
“I
can
save him. I
know I can! This condition can be reversed! Just give me some
time.”

Calvin nodded. “Very well. I
desperately hope that you’re right. But understand this,” he paused
and looked her in the eyes. “
I won’t let
Shen suffer forever
.” The memory of
watching Christine be ripped apart by the virus for weeks on end
with no hope of recovery was heavy enough to bear without adding
Shen. No person deserved to be eternally stuck between life and
death in a constant state of pain. “The moment it becomes clear
that there’s nothing we can do for him, we have to let him go.
That’s the only kind thing we can do.”

Rain’s eyes remained
fiercely determined and unwilling to give an inch. “I don’t know
how yet, but I
can
save him. And
I
will
.”

***

When Calvin returned to his office he found
an encrypted message waiting for him. It had been sent through the
most secure channels with maximum security. He locked the door
before opening it—wanting to keep it private.

After confirming his identity, the message
decrypted itself and displayed a video on his computer. A woman
appeared in front of a blank backdrop that resembled the bulkhead
of a starship or space station. The lighting was dim and her
features were partially obscured, but despite those limitations he
recognized her exquisite face and commanding eyes immediately.
Princess Kalila. He felt his heart lurch.

“
Calvin
, we have to meet right away. Time is short. Follow these
coordinates. I regret I can only give you twenty-four hours. After
that, it will be too late. I pray you get this message in time.”
She disappeared and her image was replaced by a series of
interstellar waypoints that, presumably, would take him to
her.

The message ended and his screen went
dark.

He leaned back in his chair,
collecting his thoughts. He didn’t know if he could trust
Kalila—not after her ship had been identified as the perpetrator of
a violent assault against the government of Renora—but he wasn’t
convinced that she was behind the attack either. The proof seemed
to be in place that it
had
been her ship that’d fired on the planet, but that
didn’t mean she was complicit, or even present when it happened.
Additionally, she’d sent him a message earlier warning him not to
believe the rumors. A plea, no doubt, to avoid convicting her too
hastily.

Of course, he realized that he was biased.
He wanted to believe she was innocent. That she could be trusted.
It wasn’t a feeling he could help, he found her compelling and
exciting and... he was drawn to her in ways that he didn’t
completely understand. But he knew he had to temper his emotions
and focus solely on the facts. And the most poignant fact of all
was that she couldn’t be trusted—not yet.

But then again, Raidan couldn’t be
completely trusted either. Almost no one could. Everyone seemed to
have their own agenda, their own design for the Empire. Was
Raidan’s vision of what needed to be done best for the Empire, or
was Kalila’s? And what were those visions exactly?

He had a choice to make now. Both Kalila and
Raidan expected to see him immediately. And both had given him a
narrow window of time in which to do so. Meeting with one meant not
meeting with the other. And he couldn’t be in two places at once.
So the question remained, which rendezvous was more important?

He’d already agreed to meet with Raidan, and
was expected. But part of him strongly wanted to meet with Kalila.
Not just because she was compelling and impossible to get out of
his head once she was in there—but also because she could give him
answers. Answers about Renora, answers about the Empire. Answers he
couldn’t get from anyone else. Not even Raidan.

But then again... Raidan had hinted at
something very important, so important that it had to be shared in
person.

Decisions,
decisions
... He let out a sigh, deciding
that this was a judgment call he didn’t have to make alone. He
needed to get a fresh perspective on the dilemma which meant it was
time to let someone else into his confidence regarding Kalila—and
their secret communications. Someone he could trust absolutely. And
recent events had proven no one more reliable and trustworthy than
Summers.

The universe truly is
upside-down
. He thought of the strange
irony. That Summers—once his enemy—had won his confidence while
Anand—once his best friend—had tried to kill him. The whole dynamic
seemed perverse and wrong. But it was what it was...