Chapter Thirty: Revelations Titan: Nomad, Chapter by D.X. Machina

“So,” said Luke, as they entered the back room of the armory, “what made you change your mind about Earth being real?”

“I haven’t decided it’s real,” Quendra said, evenly, drawing a chair up for Luke. “But I have decided it could be.”

“Fair enough,” Luke said, sitting down. “So what do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Quendra said.

Luke raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I know everything.”

“Everything you know, then,” Quendra said.

Luke leaned back. He wasn’t sure where to start. All he knew was that this would take some time.

Aisell sat on the porch steps, looking out to the distant horizon.

Lezah looked through the screen door, and sighed; Aisell spent a lot of time there, of late. It was as if she just stared hard enough, she’d see where he was, see him jogging up the path to the house, fine and fit.

It broke her heart, seeing Aisell’s heart broken.

Lezah walked out the door and stood behind Aisell; her sister didn’t react, though she had to have heard the screen door slam.

“It’s been ten days, pup. Wherever he ended up…he’s gone,” Lezah said.

“You mean dead,” she said, flatly, not even looking back at her sister.

Lezah’s heart ached nearly as much as Aisell’s, but she knew her sister had to hear it. “It…it could be. It’s a big world…and he isn’t.”

“So I killed him,” Aisell said. Again, there was no emotion, no sadness, no anger – it was as if Aisell had been hollowed out inside. She felt numb.

“Aisell, you….”

“If I’d left him there,” she said, quietly, “he might’ve died. But he’d have had a chance to get home. But I brought him here. And he died. Died farther from home.”

“He forgave you.”

“He shouldn’t have,” Aisell said, matter-of-factly. “I tried to play it safe, play not to lose him. And I lost him anyhow. And took…I took everything from him. He should have hated me. That he didn’t just proves how kind he was, and how big my failure was.”

“It’s not just your failure, Aisell,” Lezah said. “I was home when he disappeared. That’s my fault. My carelessness.”

Aisell turned back to Lezah, and gave her the barest hint of a smile. “You didn’t make me go out with Bedra that day, and you didn’t make me leave him with you, and you didn’t make be bring him here.”

“Well, I would’ve done the same as you,” Lezah sighed.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Doubt anything I could say would. But it’s the truth.”

Aisell closed her eyes for a moment. She knew he was probably dead. And if he was, that meant he’d died knowing that she had put him in danger’s path. That she’d put him in harm’s way.

If he’d died on the station…at least he would have died free.

She was numb. Because the alternative was such unfathomable grief that she couldn’t bear it. Such grief that she felt sure it would break her in two.

She got up, at long last. “I just…I wish I knew. I think if I knew for sure that he was gone….”

A pang of remorse worked its way through the nothing, and shattered her blank façade. She broke down; Lezah took her in her arms, and held her for a long time.

When finally her sobbing subsided, Lezah helped to dry her sister’s eyes.

“Thanks, Lez,” she said. “For everything.”

Aisell looked over her shoulder, out past the woods to the distant horizon.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” she said, softly. “I hope…I hope you knew that before….”

She sighed. He wasn’t coming back to her. And as much as she wanted the ground to swallow her up, it refused. She would have to go on living. And some day, somehow, find a way to make amends.

Luke looked high up at the two gatherers, perched a hundred feet up on the stalk of silagas – the cereal grain that grew in the field nearest the tree. Together, they quickly sawed one of the spikelets off, giving a whistle when it let go; quickly, two other gatherers ran to it and grabbed it, carrying it away. The gatherers on the stalk maneuvered down, hopping leaf to leaf, until they were low enough to the ground to jump. They landed in the thick brown loam, as the two who had set the spikelet aside quickly began to ascend another stalk.

“They can gather about two hundred a day, but we usually only take one hundred,” Quendra said.

“More might draw attention to us,” Oreus said, watching the sky.

Oreus was out watching for a sign from the heavens, one that he expected any day. Quendra and Erak were helping guard the gatherers during their harvest. They had brought Luke along to see if he had any suggestions.

Luke had been full of suggestions over the past eight days. Quendra was surprised by that; he still would tell her, flatly, that they had kidnapped them. He still told her that he intended to go back to the Titans. But he had nevertheless commented on a number of their practices, comparing them to those on Earth.

She no longer doubted that he was from a different world, and no longer doubted that world was called Earth, though this fact was not something that was shared generally. Drugar knew, and Oreus, of course. Quendra thought it best, however, if it wasn’t shared with everyone.

Still, Luke obviously came from somewhere else. He had talked for hours the first day she’d asked him about Earth, hours the next day, hours the day after. There was too much detail for it to be a story – she had given up trying to catch him out.

He had told her of wonders aplenty, and horrors worse that any she imagined the Titans capable of. He told her of carts that propelled themselves, boxes that would show events and people from anywhere in the world, medicines that stopped diseases before they even started. He told her that before he was born, three humans had climbed aboard an enormous rocket and flown to their moon, and walked upon it, and flew back safe and sound.

And he told her of great wars fought with mighty weapons that could destroy thousands of people at a single blow, of humans who turned on other humans because they were different. He made it clear, over and over, that Earth was not a perfect world, no paradise. That the humans who lived there were free – but that freedom did not mean they were full of wisdom.

Still, they were undoubtedly more advanced than The Tribe, and Luke had shared what knowledge he had. He had already suggested to Wolan that he wash his hands between patients – praising him for keeping things as clean as he had. He had suggested some recipes to the kitchen, helped Thurfrit to learn Archavian. He had talked with Bernd the Pipemaker about something he called a “steam engine,” though he kept complaining that he wished he had paid better attention in school. Still, Bernd seemed taken with the idea, and said he might begin experiments to see if he could build something like it.

Luke hadn’t been rude or dismissive ever, either – she had been shocked by that. To him, The Tribe must seem primitive, but he never acted that way. He constantly told them how impressed he was by them, how amazed he was by what they had built.

“Have you ever thought of planting this yourself?” Luke said.

“Hmm?” Quendra asked.

“The seeds – grow them yourselves.”

“Well, I’m sure someone has,” she said. “But they’d be too big for us to manage. They’d attract attention.”

“Yeah, probably true. Do you cultivate any plants? Or is it all gathering?”

“Between the silagas and the glowberries and the tubers, we have a good deal of food.”

“No question,” Luke said. “Just wondering. I….”

Luke looked up, suddenly, as the sky grew dark. He saw, with some surprise, that Selana, the moon, was sliding in front of Archavia’s sun. For a brief second, only Hadia was visible, and then that too ducked behind Selana, plunging the world into sudden night.

“Oh, wow,” Luke said, softly. “A total eclipse.”

“You act like you’ve never seen one before,” said Erak.

“You have?”

“There are several each year,” he said.

“I suppose there would be,” Luke said, looking up. “On…the planet I come from, the moon and the sun look to be about the same size. You can go your whole life and never see a total eclipse. Things have to line up just right.”

Erak laughed, then sobered, as he read Luke’s face. “So it’s true? You really are from another world?”

“Yes,” Luke said, with a sigh. “I am.”

He looked back to the Seer, who was staring at Luke, eyes wide.

“Tell me,” Oreus said, “when the moon passes in front of the sun – do you know what is said to occur?”

“I’ve seen pictures,” Luke said. “You can see the corona of the sun around the moon. It’s supposed to be beautiful.”

“What does it look like?” Oreus asked, with urgency in his voice.

“It…huh. It looks…I guess maybe a bit like a flower,” Luke said. “I was gonna say a lion’s mane, but….”

“’A flower of gold surrounding the black of the moon.’ Oh, Great Spirit, thank you,” Oreus said, looking to the sky. He looked back at Luke, beaming wide. “You truly are from Earth, Luke Palmer.”

“From where?!?” Erak nearly shouted.

“Uncle Oreus,” Quendra started to say, but he shushed her.

“His description of an eclipse on Earth matches that of the Scroll of Garash. Nobody but a Seer or an apprentice to a Seer would know of Gargash; it’s a very brief scroll, notable only for that description.”

The gatherers and guard had stopped what they were doing, and were staring at Luke. “Well…I mean…yes, I am from Earth, but….”

Two of the gatherers, Donen and Poxea, dropped to their knees. Luke looked on, nonplussed. “No…guys…I’m not….it’s not like that. I’m not anything special. There are like nine billion more just like me there. Really.”

“You need not kneel to him, children,” Oreus said, gently. “As he says, he is not a god.”

“Definitely not!” Luke said. “I’m just a human, like you. You guys remember Earth because the Titans took you from it. From the rest of us. Believe me, I know how you feel.”

“Still, Luke of Earth, you have walked on the soil where we were created by the Great Spirit. You have seen the giant star of gold,” Donen said.

“I suppose, but….”

“Do you know why we were cast out?” Poxea said. “What did we do wrong?”

“Nothing!” Luke said, exasperated. “Your ancestors were just unlucky enough to get swept up by the Titans. You didn’t sin, and you don’t have to atone for anything. Earth isn’t magic. It’s just a planet, like Archavia.”

“We should get back,” Quendra said, looking to the sky. “Night creatures will begin to come out soon.”

“We should celebrate the man from Earth!” Poxea said.

“Please, no,” Luke said. “I don’t want –”

“It will be the Midsummer Feast tonight, regardless,” Oreus said, with a smile. “The first eclipse of the summer was today. We will celebrate that. It is enough that Luke of Earth will join us.”

The gatherers began to move toward the tree, talking excitedly. Oreus gathered a scroll, and turned once to look upon Luke, wearing a grin a mile wide. Luke hung back by Quendra, and sighed.

“Please tell me you don’t buy into any of this,” Luke said.

“I am glad to see that you have been telling the truth,” Quendra said. “And I am glad to see you are aware you should not be revered.”

Luke looked over at Quendra with a rueful smile. “I’m not sure if that was a complement or not,” he said.

Quendra smiled. “It was, Luke.” She then furrowed her brow. “I am worried at how this will be received. I…I know how you have felt, that you have felt as if you were abducted. You could….”

“I could what?”

Quendra looked at him, squinting through the dim twilight of the eclipse. “You could make any demand of us; I expect there would be enough of us who would follow ‘the man from Earth’ to take you to the monsters immediately.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up, just a bit.

“If you want to go back…tell me. I will take you on a brighter morning, but I will take you back myself. I ask that you not move against Drugar, though. That you not force this. The Tribe….”

“The Tribe is very important,” Luke said, softly. “I agree. I would never hurt it. You have my word. And I would certainly never move against Drugar. Or you.”

Quendra nodded, satisfied. “Very well,” she said. “Let’s go back. I will try to keep you from being mobbed.”

Luke grinned. “Maybe I want to be mobbed.”

“No, you don’t,” Quendra said with a chuckle.

“You’re right,” Luke said. “I don’t.”

Word of Luke’s heritage spread quickly, as one might expect. It was not long before Thurfrit buttonholed him.

“How could you not tell me you were from Earth?” Thurfrit said, gesticulating wildly. “It’s…it’s Earth!”

“Quendra wanted me to keep it quiet,” Luke said.

“Oh,” Thurfrit said, taking a step back. “Okay, well…still, you’re from Earth! Is it true the Titans were all banished from there?”

“Well, they aren’t hanging around anymore, though they’re still pretty close, relatively speaking.”

“You will have to tell me all about it!” Thurfrit said.

“Yes, I probably will,” Luke said.

Soon enough, Luke went to visit Drugar in the Great Hall; he did his best to ignore the chatter as he entered; instead, he approached the leader and took care to bow, slightly and respectfully.

“Luke of Earth,” Drugar said, watching him like a hawk. “I hear that you are a great prophet, capable of healing the dead.”

“I hope you aren’t hearing that, Leader,” Luke said. “It wouldn’t be true. As I’ve told everyone so far, I’m just a man. Believe me, I wish I could perform miracles, but I can’t.”

Drugar smiled thinly; Quendra had told him that this was the path Luke would follow. Still, he wanted to hear it for himself. “So, you mean to say that you are like any other human here?”

“I am,” Luke said. “Exactly.”

“Well. I am interested to hear stories of Earth, and I am sure the Seer is as well. And….”

Drugar rose, and the room rose soon thereafter. When all eyes were on him, he boomed, “Luke Palmer is a guest, like any other guest who has walked through our gates. Treat him as such.”

The crowd grumbled a bit; a few people shook their heads, but most seemed to agree with Drugar, at least initially.

Drugar returned to his seat, and Luke nodded to him. “Thank you, Leader.”

“Thank you, Luke. You will join us tonight, won’t you?”

“Of course, Leader,” Luke said. “I look forward to it.”

In a corner of the room, Hari the Defender murmured quietly to Donen the Gatherer.

“They say that when a visitor from Earth comes, destruction is sure to follow,” Hari said, running a hand through her dark brown hair.

“Who says that?” Donen said. “Nobody says that.”

“My grandpappy always did,” Hari said.

“Well, I don’t believe it. Luke of Earth has been a friend to us.”

“It doesn’t matter if he is a friend. He’s a harbinger of destruction.”

Donen laughed. “Like fun. My love, you worry too much.”

Hari shook her head. “I’m serious, Done. Mark my words, no good will come of this. No good at all.”

The Midsummer Festival was one of the grand feast days of the tribe. It was not as important as the Harvest Festival, nor as eagerly anticipated as the Festival of the Thaw, but it was still a day of celebration and revelry, a day for all the members of the tribe to come together and celebrate their continued existence, before getting up the next day and working again.

Given that the day was 84 hours long, it was plenty of time for celebration.

Luke sat at a table with Thurfrit and Ithun and Quendra, as well as a half-dozen other members of the tribe who were peppering him with questions about Earth. Luke told them that no, unfortunately people on Earth did not live forever, nor were the lakes filled with wine. But there was food aplenty, at least where he lived, and the humans there could, in fact, fly.

They had roast chaeroal and gravy on tubers, bread and oil, and a kind of glowberry pie for dessert. Glowberry and mossaberry wine flowed freely, and by the time the musicians started to play, Luke had to admit, he was in a pretty good mood. He would miss this when he went back. He would have to try to visit often.

Thurfrit and Ithun soon left them and began to dance, as did most of the rest of their table; Luke stayed behind with Quendra and talked, while he tried to figure out the mechanics of the folk dance being performed on the floor.

“You know…and I know I keep repeating myself…but the Maris sisters would probably give you as much grain as you wanted. Your gatherers wouldn’t have to risk their lives for it.”

“You may be right. They may give us grain,” Quendra said.

Luke looked over to her, waiting for her to call them monsters, but Quendra held back. Luke laughed. “Okay, I know you aren’t thinking we should contact them, so what’s your objection?”

“Well…let’s say that you’re right about the monsters.”

“I am.”

“Okay,” Quendra said. “So we go to them and grovel, and they begin to give us everything we ask for. Give us food and water, and visit with us and dote on us.”

“That’s probably what would happen.”

“So tell me, Luke – if they’re providing for our every need…what do we do?”

“Well…relax. Have fun. I mean, this is fun, but you could have a feast like this every night, if you wanted.”

“Naturally,” Quendra said. “And we would stop hunting. Stop gathering. Stop doing all those things we do to stay alive. Just enjoy their charity.”

“Wouldn’t put it exactly like that….”

“We’d lay about and enjoy their charity, and we’d depend on them for everything. Just like pets do.”

Luke looked at her; she was smiling, but there was an intensity to it, a defiance.

It was a familiar defiance.

“Quendra?” Luke asked.

“Yes?”

“This dance….”

“What about it?”

Luke smiled. “How does it go?”