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xp_logsAfter trying to play peacemaker on the journals, Nathan takes a breather, only to get hit by another vision. He handles it well, but upon closer examination, the vision gives him an answer that he didn't expect. And he starts to realize at last what he has to do.
Finals, Nathan reminded himself, leaning back against the couch and away from the laptop, as if simply putting some distance between himself and the plentiful hostility spilling forth on the journals would actually do some good. It was probably end-of-term stress as much as anything, exacerbating all the many, many underlying issues between these kids. And he probably wasn't doing much good, if any, trying to intervene. But that conversation with Manuel yesterday had gone well enough that he hadn't been able to resist trying to 'follow up', and it had sort of snowballed from there. At least I'm not trying to extricate my foot from my mouth this time. Maybe he was learning.
Lights flickered in his peripheral vision and he drew in a sharp breath, setting the laptop aside and his glass of water on the end table. Just what he needed to round out a perfect afternoon, he thought grimly, concentrating as he felt the vision coming on. Only one, this time, so it was easy to visualize his hands pushing it away, behind the mirror, before it got the chance to do more than begin to take shape in his mind. It still sapped his energy, though, and he sagged back against the couch, breathing heavily.
Positive thinking was in order, though. The precognition was certainly much better than it had been, and the fact that the last few had been so draining was probably a direct result of the state he was in after the weekend; they had certainly been getting much milder beforehand. So rest, like everyone's been telling you, and you'll be back to 'steadily improving' before you know it.
Closing his eyes, Nathan dropped down onto his beach mindscape, just to take a look. It was difficult to move around at this point, there was so many of the little mirror. They were all still there, back to the very first few that had appeared. He didn't know that so much as feel it. Sort of how he felt, rather than knew, where to go to find the latest 'window'.
It was the same size and shape as all of the others, a silvery disk a couple of feet across. The consistency was interesting, Nathan thought, reaching out a hand to it. Not that he had any idea what it meant, apart from the fact that he was consistent in his visualization even at the unconscious level. Which wasn't all that much of a surprise, given all the years of practice with the virus.
The images behind this one rewound, replaying for him, and Nathan let himself sink partway into them, sharing but not losing himself in the memories of an Askani officer, holed up in a temple with her troops...
...there would be no escape, she realized, tensing as she heard the distant explosions. The Canaanites would level the rest of the city and then close on the temple. They might not strike at the building itself, but they would be all the more determined to remove the 'unbelievers'. For what it was, this was not a particularly defensible place.
Watching out of the corner of their eye as the unit physician saw to the wounded - perhaps a futile exercise, but she had no intention of seeing her people in pain for what little time they had left to him - she strode slowly over the smooth, polished stone floor to the statue of Him, alone in its majesty. She looked up at His face for a moment, and then away, fighting back the rage, the pain. There was no more room for that. It would be over soon, in any case.
Her eyes were drawn to the engraving on the pedestal, and her mouth twisted bitterly, despite her resolve to remain calm. Canaanite script was ugly, she thought, but the words were even uglier. Here was the war and all its hideous meaning, encapsulated in the few lines of a simple prayer.
~Lord of Dawn, judge us day by day
Smile down on us as we destroy our enemies
as we purify the world with your light
Let the names of the weak be forgotten
Let their taint be expunged
Let their dreams be broken
Let us live in your world
The world of the strong
Let us be your children
Let all others be dust
Let them end in fire
Let the wind blow with their ashes...~
"NO!!!!" Nathan opened his eyes to realize that he was on the other side of the room from where he'd been, his side throbbing from the sudden movement and his throat hoarse from shouting. He sagged back against the wall, struggling for some semblance of control.
That prayer. That prayer... it could have been something from the commune, from home...
Still reeling inwardly, he managed to straighten, holding onto the wall for support. The words of the prayer were running over and over in his mind, in Canaanite but so much like the ones he had been forced to say as a child. Prayers that all the children of the commune had repeated, kneeling in the snow for hours at a time to test their resilience, their willpower. Prayers that his parents had taught him, punishing him for every hesitation, every mistake. Litanies, fucking Social Darwinist litanies, and here was the same thing two thousand years in the future, in a temple to the monster who was killing the Askani...
Salt the earth and water it with blood, that voice like thunder echoed in his mind. Leave nothing to mark their passing. I make no monuments to the weak.
Refugees being exterminated. Children being burned alive. Cities swallowed by firestorms. Askani soldiers fighting desperate holding actions to buy their civilians a chance to get away, to melt into the population and save themselves. Flee or die, because they were 'unworthy'...
"No," he whispered, shaking violently. "Oh, no..."
It wasn't a coincidence, or bad luck. His precognition fixing on this period, on these people.
I didn't open that door, Askani's voice echoed in his mind. You did. Something in us called to you... Not hyperbole, not an excuse for what she had done after all.
He had done it to himself.
Right from the start. His doing, his choice.
Ignoring the pain in his side, he half-ran, half-staggered to the door. The psi-shielded room, he had to get there before he could do this, before he called her. And she had known. She had told him he would call her, when he understood.
She had known, right from the start.
He staggered again, catching at the wall, but forced himself onwards. He understood, he finally understood...
Now it was time to end this.
Finals, Nathan reminded himself, leaning back against the couch and away from the laptop, as if simply putting some distance between himself and the plentiful hostility spilling forth on the journals would actually do some good. It was probably end-of-term stress as much as anything, exacerbating all the many, many underlying issues between these kids. And he probably wasn't doing much good, if any, trying to intervene. But that conversation with Manuel yesterday had gone well enough that he hadn't been able to resist trying to 'follow up', and it had sort of snowballed from there. At least I'm not trying to extricate my foot from my mouth this time. Maybe he was learning.
Lights flickered in his peripheral vision and he drew in a sharp breath, setting the laptop aside and his glass of water on the end table. Just what he needed to round out a perfect afternoon, he thought grimly, concentrating as he felt the vision coming on. Only one, this time, so it was easy to visualize his hands pushing it away, behind the mirror, before it got the chance to do more than begin to take shape in his mind. It still sapped his energy, though, and he sagged back against the couch, breathing heavily.
Positive thinking was in order, though. The precognition was certainly much better than it had been, and the fact that the last few had been so draining was probably a direct result of the state he was in after the weekend; they had certainly been getting much milder beforehand. So rest, like everyone's been telling you, and you'll be back to 'steadily improving' before you know it.
Closing his eyes, Nathan dropped down onto his beach mindscape, just to take a look. It was difficult to move around at this point, there was so many of the little mirror. They were all still there, back to the very first few that had appeared. He didn't know that so much as feel it. Sort of how he felt, rather than knew, where to go to find the latest 'window'.
It was the same size and shape as all of the others, a silvery disk a couple of feet across. The consistency was interesting, Nathan thought, reaching out a hand to it. Not that he had any idea what it meant, apart from the fact that he was consistent in his visualization even at the unconscious level. Which wasn't all that much of a surprise, given all the years of practice with the virus.
The images behind this one rewound, replaying for him, and Nathan let himself sink partway into them, sharing but not losing himself in the memories of an Askani officer, holed up in a temple with her troops...
...there would be no escape, she realized, tensing as she heard the distant explosions. The Canaanites would level the rest of the city and then close on the temple. They might not strike at the building itself, but they would be all the more determined to remove the 'unbelievers'. For what it was, this was not a particularly defensible place.
Watching out of the corner of their eye as the unit physician saw to the wounded - perhaps a futile exercise, but she had no intention of seeing her people in pain for what little time they had left to him - she strode slowly over the smooth, polished stone floor to the statue of Him, alone in its majesty. She looked up at His face for a moment, and then away, fighting back the rage, the pain. There was no more room for that. It would be over soon, in any case.
Her eyes were drawn to the engraving on the pedestal, and her mouth twisted bitterly, despite her resolve to remain calm. Canaanite script was ugly, she thought, but the words were even uglier. Here was the war and all its hideous meaning, encapsulated in the few lines of a simple prayer.
~Lord of Dawn, judge us day by day
Smile down on us as we destroy our enemies
as we purify the world with your light
Let the names of the weak be forgotten
Let their taint be expunged
Let their dreams be broken
Let us live in your world
The world of the strong
Let us be your children
Let all others be dust
Let them end in fire
Let the wind blow with their ashes...~
"NO!!!!" Nathan opened his eyes to realize that he was on the other side of the room from where he'd been, his side throbbing from the sudden movement and his throat hoarse from shouting. He sagged back against the wall, struggling for some semblance of control.
That prayer. That prayer... it could have been something from the commune, from home...
Still reeling inwardly, he managed to straighten, holding onto the wall for support. The words of the prayer were running over and over in his mind, in Canaanite but so much like the ones he had been forced to say as a child. Prayers that all the children of the commune had repeated, kneeling in the snow for hours at a time to test their resilience, their willpower. Prayers that his parents had taught him, punishing him for every hesitation, every mistake. Litanies, fucking Social Darwinist litanies, and here was the same thing two thousand years in the future, in a temple to the monster who was killing the Askani...
Salt the earth and water it with blood, that voice like thunder echoed in his mind. Leave nothing to mark their passing. I make no monuments to the weak.
Refugees being exterminated. Children being burned alive. Cities swallowed by firestorms. Askani soldiers fighting desperate holding actions to buy their civilians a chance to get away, to melt into the population and save themselves. Flee or die, because they were 'unworthy'...
"No," he whispered, shaking violently. "Oh, no..."
It wasn't a coincidence, or bad luck. His precognition fixing on this period, on these people.
I didn't open that door, Askani's voice echoed in his mind. You did. Something in us called to you... Not hyperbole, not an excuse for what she had done after all.
He had done it to himself.
Right from the start. His doing, his choice.
Ignoring the pain in his side, he half-ran, half-staggered to the door. The psi-shielded room, he had to get there before he could do this, before he called her. And she had known. She had told him he would call her, when he understood.
She had known, right from the start.
He staggered again, catching at the wall, but forced himself onwards. He understood, he finally understood...
Now it was time to end this.
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