The Alpha Choice (23 page)

‘I'm smart, I’ll grant you that, but saving an entire race, I'm sorry, you're wrong.’

‘It isn't just about your abilities, it’s also about opportunity. Everything has converged in our favour for the first time, in almost three thousand years. We haven’t made a mistake…’

‘Who is
we
?’

With a rueful smile, she shook her head. ‘All I can say is that, no matter how absurd the suggestion appears to you now, there is only one person who can take advantage of this remarkable chance, you! It’s time for me to leave.’

He was almost lost for words, almost. ‘Wait!’ he exclaimed. ‘
This
is my personal message,
this
is everything? I find out that my mother had a secret life and, instead of explaining anything, gives me cryptic messages. I'm twenty-one, can't manage a coherent conversation with a girl, have only one friend, have lost all the family I knew, only to hear that my father wasn’t really my father after all, and your message to me is:
go save the world, you're the only one who can do it, bye. Oh, and by the way, if you do it your life will be in danger!’
 

The image of Cyrar, raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re absolutely right, what I've done to you is appalling. Would I do it again? I’m sorry to say, I would. Even when you learn the truth, I can't expect your forgiveness, it would be asking too much. By acting as I did, I relinquished any chance of that. The best I can hope for, is that you come to understand my motives. You can choose to walk away from the task, if it’s offered to you, and continue your life as normal, but if you accept and go on to succeed, I’ll be content to have traded any fond memories you have of me, for the good you will have achieved.’

In spite of his anger, Gorn found himself softening. ‘I've learned more about you in the last few hours, than in all the time I lived with you. I've even learned that you can sound pompous!’

She smiled. ‘I suppose I can. It’s difficult to keep a sense of proportion, when touching on these matters, thanks for reminding me. I was about to say, when you come through this,’ Gorn noticed a minute emphasis on
when
, he knew it was really
if
, ‘there’s a third recording on the galet which contains the memories I would like to share with you. It seemed incongruous to talk about them now, in the light of all I've
almost
said. All I ask is that you bring your brothers,’ she held up her hand as if to stifle any interruption. ‘No, I hadn’t forgotten them, but to speak to them now, would raise too many questions, dangerous questions. They will hate me for seeming to ignore them, but it’s necessary.
 

‘Before I go, I need you to know that despite my actions, I have and will always love you, and your brothers.’

The image disappeared, his mother was gone.
 

Gorn’s head was reeling. What was he being drawn into?

He needed answers, and all he had were questions. Now would be the perfect time to speak to his father. Zaran would have played his galet, perhaps he could fill in the missing spaces.
 

Ω

Gorn arrived at the villa by nine, to find he had the place to himself, Jaron and Ciarra would have played their galet by now,
did they get any surprises,
he wondered. Fresh food had been left for him, which he gratefully devoured. Noting another place had been set for his father, he made sure to leave some. Within an hour, Zaran joined him, looking jaded and drawn.
What did you learn that could have this effect
?
Perhaps, I look the same,
he thought.
 

Zaran chose not to eat, and invited his son to sit with him in the garden.

There was silence, charged with expectation and, for some minutes, neither seemed willing to be the one to break it. Eventually, it was Gorn who spoke. ‘I’m sorry for storming off from the café, I should have let you tell me the full story.’
 

His father shook his head and smiled, which had the effect of instantly restoring his vitality. ‘There’s no need for apologies. At your age, hearing something like that, I would probably have leapt at my father, fists flailing.’

Gorn looked carefully at his father. ‘I don't think so. I thought my mother would give me the answers I needed, but I’m not much further forward.’

‘What did she say to you?’

Gorn wondered whether Zaran would be surprised by any of it, perhaps he already knew,
it would certainly explain his appearance
, he thought.

After relaying everything his mother had said, he sat back and awaited his father’s response. The spark that had kindled in Zaran, just minutes earlier, began to fade and when he replied, it was as though the words were being torn from him. ‘Most of what you’ve told me I knew from your mother’s message to me, I imagine you expected as much.’
 

His son nodded. ‘What was she involved in?’

‘That, I can’t tell you. If I did, it would place you in danger from more than one source.’

The young man’s patience was wearing thin. ‘You as well. Why am I being kept in the dark, with only glimpses of what’s really happening? Perhaps it would be better if I stepped out of the picture now, so those in the know can get on with things?’

Zaran looked directly at him, and replied. ‘I completely agree with you, don’t become involved.’
 

This was not the answer Gorn expected. ‘Now that the box has been opened, I have to look inside. My mother knew that, you know that.’

‘Again, I have to agree with you.’
 

‘What about this friend who might contact me?’

‘I can help you there. The person is Narol, she has been involved in, let’s say
perilous
matters, for many years. The two of them have known each other for a long time, but I didn’t begin to guess she had involved your mother.’

‘Do you think I should meet this, Narol?’

‘I’ve already arranged a meeting, later this morning,’ Gorn raised his eyebrows, as Zaran added. ‘If I cancel, Narol will find a way to meet with you. I would rather be present during that meeting, and it will be the perfect opportunity for you to say you don’t want to know anything or be involved.’

What his father had just told him stunned Gorn into silence. For Zaran to be this afraid of what his son was about to be drawn into, meant that his mother was not exaggerating.

‘But that isn’t what you want, is it? You need to know everything, and the only person who can tell you, is Narol. I don't know much about what’s happening, but I can tell you there’s a group that’s existed in secret, for generations. Their sole aim is to change our society by stopping us from doing what makes us who we are.’

Gorn pondered this for a few moments. How much did his father know? He decided to test his knowledge; the more he knew before he met this
Narol
, the more comfortable he would feel, and he felt sure his father would be able to answer two questions. ‘What do you mean,
stopping us?
Stopping us from doing what?’

Zaran answered without hesitation. ‘They want us to withdraw from space beyond our colonies, and give back our dominions to the races we subjugated, those who still survive, that is.’

‘
Subjugated
? I don’t understand.’ Of course, he did understand, he understood all too well. All of the half explanations he had received with hints of danger, risk and determining the future of his people, more than suggested their society was unwell. If it was beyond reproach, there would have been no need for action. Where was the need to fix something which was unbroken?

His question went unanswered, his father knew him too well.
 

If Gorn's supposition was right, then the consequences were momentous; his second question
went unasked, it was now otiose.

His father got up. ‘I need to rest. Since your mother’s death, my world has been turned upside down.’
This tiredness thing is becoming contagious,
Gorn thought.

Before his father had walked more than a few paces, Gorn asked. ‘I thought you were against the military and all it stood for?’

Zaran turned, wearily, back to his son. ‘No, I was against joining the military, because it wasn’t for me, there was nothing more to it than that. Unfortunately, your grandfather, your mother’s father, didn't see it that way.’
 

He went into the house, leaving his son alone with his thoughts.

Gorn awoke with a start, still in his chair. Sitting opposite him was his father, looking rather more refreshed than when they parted, and beside him, a woman.
 

‘Gorn, this is Narol, my sister…your aunt.’

Ω

The facial similarities between brother and sister were striking. Yet, where his father was very tall and broad, his aunt appeared to be just above average height, and very slim. While his father was handsome, his aunt was attractive, rather than pretty.

The woman spoke. ‘You have a look of your mother,’ she paused, as though appraising him, before adding. ‘I believe you have some questions to put to me?’
 

Her voice reminded him of his head teacher, before he joined the Academy, authority tinged with kindness, was how he remembered it.
She doesn’t waste time on pleasantries
, he thought. Where would he start, and how much of what his mother had told him did she know?

‘How does my mother know you, and why am I seeing you now?’

‘Before I answer those questions, perhaps I should ask one of my own. Why should I risk my life, and the lives of others I hold dear, by telling you?’

She shouldn’t,
he thought. Looking at his father, it occurred to him that if he wanted to walk away from the whole business, this was his best, probably his only chance, but then his questions would remain unanswered. If he pursued the answers it would be too late to withdraw, and that was where his problem lay, because he needed to know,
what would I be withdrawing from?

‘I can't answer that question,’ he replied. ‘So far, I’ve been told next to nothing. What I can tell you, is that I didn’t ask to be involved in whatever it is you have going on. I can’t expect you to answer my questions, just as you have no right to ask me to prove myself. If I leave, you don’t have to take any risks, and I won't have to give you any assurances.’ As he stood, he added. ‘Perhaps we can meet on holidays?’
 

Narol waved him back down, and looked hard at him for a little while. ‘That was well said, Nephew. You're right, I shouldn’t ask you to prove yourself to me, but I will answer your questions. Whether or not you believe what I’m about to tell you, I insist on only one thing: you must swear that nothing you hear is repeated abroad. If you can’t do that, then our meeting is at an end.’

‘I swear.’

‘Then we are in agreement,’ she replied.

Narol looked at her brother, as if expecting him to object, but he was impassive. The only indicator that she might have been surprised by his lack of reaction, was a minute raising of her right eyebrow, something Gorn failed to notice. Returning her attention to her nephew, she continued. ‘When I was younger than you, I was made aware of the true nature of our race’s galactic incursions. For thousands of years, beginning soon after we discovered the secrets of interstellar travel, we have plundered civilised worlds and, in almost every case, committed genocide.
 

‘Initially, objections were voiced by some of the most influential men and women on Te’ath, but when the Supreme Council considered the material benefits of this expansion, steps were taken to silence the dissent. In time, we found it easier to continue on our violent way than to step off the path, and take a more arduous but, ultimately, more worthy route. I know of some within the Council who initially argued against us being little more than parasites, taking land that wasn’t ours. Most, eventually succumbed to the wealth and power that came with conquest. The few who persisted in their objections didn’t survive into old age.

‘When it became clear that no outward show of resistance could prevail, the voices on the Council became as one. But that single voice didn’t reflect the thoughts of every member. For many years, and uncounted generations, a constantly refreshed minority have retained the knowledge of our history, and waited.’

‘Waited for what?’ Gorn asked.

Narol seemed to ignore the question. ‘Outside the Council, most people forgot about the poisonous source of their good fortune, and replaced the reality of what was happening with a cleaner, more palatable alternative. Yet, within our society a movement grew which was set against what we Te’ans, were doing. Of necessity, it had to remain small; familial links protected the network. By the time a new member was inducted, the group knew everything there was to know about him, or her. For this reason, outsiders were never admitted. It was simply too dangerous, and so you will understand how unique it was for your mother - whose family had no links to us - to be accepted.

‘The two of us had been close friends for a while, even before she formed a relationship with your father. It was only when she was forced to break ties with him, that she began to question, on a personal level, the rules of a society that would keep two young people apart. Initially, she was reacting as any young woman might in those circumstances, but her personal unhappiness caused her to ask more searching questions, eventually leading to something more profound.

‘At that time, my involvement in the group was becoming deeper. I had been groomed throughout my life, while your father excluded himself because of his rebellious nature,’ she looked, not unkindly, at Zaran. ‘You always made your choices on the basis of what was best for
you
, and that didn’t sit well with the group.’

‘I often wondered why they allowed me to get out,’ her brother replied.
 

Once again, Narol did not respond.

She turned back to Gorn. ‘In my naiveté, I used to think they were unaware that I confided in your mother, but the group knew my every move, just as they know I’m here with you now.’

He instinctively looked around, as though expecting to see someone peering at them from behind a tree. His aunt laughed, softly. ‘Yes, they’re watching, but they wouldn't be very good at it, if you could see them. Remember, they’ve had almost three thousand years to develop surveillance skills.’