The echo of Listras’ boots droned into her thoughts as she headed towards a meeting with the Monitors.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
She had been scanned thoroughly by analysts trying to skim even the smallest detail from her encounter with Martel. Her temples still throbbed with pain, a slight haze still hung over her mind. The only sure thing was the sound of her boots against the hard marble floor.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
So much yet to do, she thought to herself. I can’t be taken out, retired now. I’ve so much to do . . .
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
I should have scanned his mind, read his body movements — anything! His capture would have given us so much information, and all without a price. He knew he didn’t belong there, dirty Rellcyst. Why was he there? And obviously observing Rhonva and Kolob.
She wished she could have cesct with Rhonva, but she knew any information he had would be disseminated in time. All she could do was wait and hope for the best.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
The walls all seemed the same to her, as she made her way deeper into the heart of Malhrer. She had been this deep in Malhrer only twice before; when she ascended to the rank of Captain, and when she foiled the insurgence at Arena Five.
I can’t let it all go to waste now. Not because of Martel.
She thought back to the moment of his death, a man whose capture would have brought clarity to all Rell plans, past and present. She stared at his body for quite a while, letting the failure burn into her mind. She could still feel the disappointment she felt then. Listras could still see the vivid image of his head slowly disintegrating as the toxin ate as his mind, his skull. She was trained in those suicide techniques and if she had more presence of mind, she could have stopped him. But his presence there was such a shock that she was truly taken by surprise. It took a while before it registered that her team had also perished.
They weren’t my friends, but they were good agents.
Listras didn’t have many friends, if any, but she did have those who respected her. Former superiors, soldiers she trained and promoted, they formed an invisible cadre of support, even unknown to her. Over the past few droas they reached out to her, letting her know they were there if she needed them. She appreciated the sentiment, but in some sense it only made her feel more vulnerable and defeated. Listras forced herself to think of her successes, the times when she overcame all odds to victory.
The insurgence at Arena five, the assassination of Heltulkt — then I proved my worth. I brought the criminals in, interrogated them, and executed them myself. I’ve never failed before. Everything was so perfect, so planned. Every contingency, known and anticipated by me.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
She felt anger surge within her.
Who was that damned Rellcyst to come and destroy me? If he wanted suicide, then why not do it on his own? I am Listras, the best. Listras, the perfect. Listras, the mighty. I control my destiny, I forge my own future!
She clenched her fist, gritted her teeth, and flexed her biceps as she dug her heels into the marble, maintaining the same pace.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
I am not only Novan; I am TELREC, a soldier in an army that shall defeat you Rellcyst, and all the vermin like you. I have defeated so many others, maybe not as strong as you, but who I would have suffered defeat at far more readily.
The walls opened up into a large chamber, leading to a docking bay. Inside sat three shuttles, one preparing to take-off. Listras made her way through the many meta unloading the other two, absently casting her identification to the TELREC guards ahead.
Who was that man, that youth, that Martel was only meters away? Why was Rhonva, such an accomplished agent, with him as well? Listras felt some envy at Rhonva being cognizant of something obviously important and secret. Why didn’t they trust me, why didn’t they give me every detail? She looked in her mind at Kolob’s face, finding no TELREC or CRODAM record of him. The only blemishes were poor employment performance reports, typical of the youth of Novan. He is nothing! Another waste of flesh. So why was Rhonva with him?
Listras had always known of Rhonva, though they never were assigned a mission together. She knew he was undercover on some important assignment for an extended period of time. What she remembered were the records he set in training — she had even broken a few. Many still stood, a testament to his strength of mind and body. The TELREC usually isolated their more important agents, and Rhonva, Listras, and one other formed a triumvirate that dominated the TELREC landscape. One rarely knew what the others were doing.
So many choices, she thought to herself, how curious life is. This morning I thought I had a routine chronicling offence, and now to have witnessed the death of Martel, and to be about to face the Monitors who decide the future of all of us. I sense some change, monumental for me, is about to occur, in these next few droas. She stopped just inside the shuttle, in front of the secondary door, and paused for a moment. She leaned against the interior wall, for a moment slumping her whole body against it, and closed her eyes.
I feel as though my whole life has been in preparation for this moment; pushing, struggling, striving for this next time. I feel so tired though, so worn down I wish I could take a moment, and just exist. To float free from this body, from this life, and drift on what currents would carry me.
Listras always knew she had a certain spirit within her, one that rebelled against her regimented existence. This being yearned to be free, wished to settle among the common people and live a life of no concerns, no debates, no training. She banished it long ago when first she walked into TELREC training, desiring to help her fellow citizen, rather than herself. When she had undercover work that took her to certain similar groups of people, free spirits, she felt the pull grow stronger to where she would take one roa out from her assignments and just exist with them, forgetting her mission.
These walls are cold, and so plain.
She ran her fingers along the surface, an aluminum hybrid, smooth and cold to the touch.
This wall was never meant to be touched. It was installed merely to contain, to protect, but never to be touched. It has been here for probably fifteen hundred cas, yet only the filters have touched it, wiping clean and sterilizing. It has never felt flesh against it, never been warmed by another’s warmth, felt the condensation of speech gather in beads on its surface, to disappear gradually over time. It has never been held . . .
Listras pressed her cheek against the wall, and heard the hum of unseen machinery concealed beyond its expanse. Several small glittering metal creatures appeared from a slit in the wall, scuttling down along the wall, spraying a fine mist, moving their front appendages rapidly back and forth.
The perfection of the meta, she thought to herself. They never complain, never question. Perfect in execution. They moved quickly down the wall, erasing the oil Listras’ hands and face left.
No one will know I was here.
She looked on the small metallic forms finish their work then ascend back up into the slit from which they came.
There is too little time for regret, she thought to herself, as she straightened up, adjusted her clothing, and walked through the doorway. Two TELREC met her; one seated at the crafts controls, the other rising to salute her.
^Are you ready, Listras?^ cast the seated one, a man with an almost blank expression. An old man with grey hair and a nearly-bald head, his image conjured some memory in Listras, though she couldn’t place him.
^Yes. Your name?^
^Is unimportant,^ he answered with a wave of a hand. She could tell he once possessed power, authority over other TELREC. ^I am servant to the Monitors, one of a select few that ferry visitors to their ship.^
Listras seemed confused. The man stood, his face softening, his deep blue eyes shimmering for a moment.
^Much will be explained as we disembark. I am to be your guide, as we travel this short distance. Sit.^
She sat next
to him, and the shuttle rose slowly, banking to the right, and moving out into open space through a wide opening. Listras had never seen inside Malhrer, never even seen the great “moon” up close, as no one was permitted such intimate knowledge of Malhrer. In her few past trips, she boarded a shuttle, and disembarked, all external visual sensors disabled, her never seeing where she journeyed to.
^Malhrer is loosely translated into ‘The Home of Mal,’ correct?^ asked her guide.
^Yes,^ cast Listras, becoming irritated.
^It’s not truly what we have — the name is quite deceiving!^ he cast, with a genial smile. ^Open your mind, to process the ship’s visual sensors.^
Listras linked into the ship, and sat back, scanning the space around, wonder filling her soul.
^This is Malhrer. Two-hundred platforms in orbit, forming a sphere to the untrained eye. Those platforms emit a distortion field that renders the entire ‘moon’ invisible, save for an occasional reflection of sunlight that can be seen on Novan. What you see now is the inside of those platforms.^
Listras focused in on the platforms that were almost as large as OLMAC’s AG platforms, yet rectangular-shaped. On each of them was an atmosphere, contained in some kind of shielding. Clouds drifted lazily beneath the shuttle, and beneath the clouds could be seen buildings, roads, transport-ships, even small homes, as if Novan itself was turned inside-out.
^Now, look at the center,^ cast the guide. She focused the ship’s sensors inward, and what she saw made her grasp her chair, and begin to sob.
^That is . . .^
^That is Mal.^
Listras saw a great toroid spinning in the void, the size of four AG platforms. Within it sat a small sun, spinning tremendously within its bounds. Awe filled her mind, overwhelming her senses.
^You see the greatest creation any Novan has ever witnessed,^ cast her guide gently. ^Mal is Holis. Mal is the sun that powers our lives, the sentience that guides our destiny. Mal has broken free of physical constraints, to become one with the fabric of the cosmos. Mal is the first sentient sun.^
The shuttle came in closer to the sun, banking in a wide orbit of it. Listras could make out detail in the toroid that enclosed it, and could see massive meta moving along its surface, maintaining the machinery within.
^Why . . . why were we never told this, about Mal?^ asked Listras, trying to control the excitement within her breast. ^If I was even told a fragment of this — how wonderful it is!^
^I know,^ grinned the guide, used to seeing this response on those first shown the truth of Mal. ^It is a miracle to behold. Mal does not need to demonstrate greatness to us, Mal merely needs us to comply and obey. Mal rewards a select few by bringing them into Mal’s presence, allowing them to draw strength from the miracle of Mal’s existence.^
Listras observed a small craft orbiting the toroid, ovular in appearance.
^Is that the ship of the Monitors?^
Her guide smiled with pride. ^Yes. It is called the Ehlios. Are you familiar with that name?^
^No. I could search for its meaning on the cast-net.^
^Wait.^ The guide held Listras’ wrist. ^Sometimes there is a joy to be found in relating knowledge, especially for a lonely guide, such as myself.^ He bid her sit back, as he turned to face her. ^There is an old Iquitian myth, dating back to the time when Holis was conceived of. It came from a rival civilization, who possessed a completely different language and different religion.^
^Much as the Rell?^ asked Listras, feeling calmed by his cast.
^Yes, you could cast,^ he replied with smiling eyes. ^Well, according to their myths, something like Holis gave birth to all there was, spewing out all of creation from within herself. And when all creation had settled, their Holis, named Nohab, found her children were not strong enough to make it on their own. Nohab dearly wished to pass on, to fade into oblivion, and rest. But for the sake of her creations, Nohab stayed, leaving part of herself open, sending sustenance to all she created. That opening is what they called the sun — a nourishment divine in origin. But the rip in Nohab grew, and Nohab was too weak to heal herself. If Nohab split wide open again, her creations would be destroyed in her own divine essence.^
^First, you must forgive me, Listras,^ paused the guide. ^I have to interject something. At the time that this myth was written, the stars were in quite a different position. The Piure nebula, now orbiting our sun far beyond Celd, was at that time still making its way through our planetary system, a cosmic wanderer, not yet grasped by the gravitational pull of our sun. It appeared to those ancients as a great web that hung in front of the sun that could be seen at sunrise, then at sunset. They called that nebula the ‘Cradle of Nohab.’^
He continued, after she nodded in understanding.
^Now according to their myth the Cradle was created by Kolob, a star closest to Nohab, who possessed some of the Holis’ power. Kolob monitored Nohab on a small planet named Ehlios, strengthening the bonds, so just enough of the Holis’ essence would feed her creations, and yet would not cause her death.^
Listras turned, and looked on the Monitor’s ship.
^As the Monitors look after the toroid that surrounds Mal?^
^Yes, in a way,^ he replied. ^That toroid is the ‘Cradle of Mal.’ It contains Mal’s essence, letting just enough through to illuminate our lives and enrich our souls.^ He sat back, a smile on his face. ^You looked quite worried when you first came here.^
^I suppose I was,^ she cast, now much calmer. ^I didn’t know why I was called — I was afraid it I was to be punished.^
^And now?^
Listras looked on the Cradle of Mal, then on the orbiting ship she now knew as the Ehlios.
^I know no TELREC would be summoned to see this, unless they were to be honored in some way. Prisoners never see this, do they?^
^Only a select few have been brought before the Monitors over all the millennia Malhrer has existed and no, they do not see what you have.^ The guide closed his eyes, folding his hands over his chest. ^We will be landing soon. Take another look around — I doubt you will be fortunate enough to see this again.^
Listras did, using the ship’s sensors to examine once again the interior of Malhrer, to look again upon the sun that was Mal. She couldn’t begin to comprehend how Mal progressed to this point, how Mal made the leap to become a celestial object.
By all that is holy, I never could have dreamed . . .
In moments they docked at the Ehlios, Listras thanking the man beside her.
^So few are so honored, Listras,^ cast the guide with a curt bow. ^To meet the Monitors must mean something great will happen to you. I will wait here, for your return.^
^Thank you.^
She made her way slowly out of the docking bay, taking in the marvel that was the interior of the Ehlios. She had nest stories in her youth about this ship, as all novice TELREC had. She knew it was the oldest operating voidship still in existence, that once it alone held all TELREC power. Once the largest ship ever created, never in the seven millennia of its existence did any group get close enough to cause it harm.
But to her eyes, the ship appeared as if brand new. The corridors gleamed with a brilliant white, the floors without dent or scrape. As she followed the mental signal guiding her deeper into the heart of the ship, she was struck at how natural it felt. Glass and wood adorned much of the interior, with sliding doors framed in a cherry wood, plants and trees framing the junctions of the corridors. Even the air was completely unlike any she breathed before. She felt stronger the more she inhaled, felt her mind clear and her mood improve.
She expected the Ehlios to be filled with only the most focused of agents, all serious and intense, but instead she was surrounded by the most uplifting agents she ever encountered. They walked along her with smiles on their mouths, laughing to some cast. At first it irritated her, almost to the point of anger, that those chosen to serve that close to Mal could think it to be so trivial. Then, she understood.
How else would one feel,
being this close to Mal?
She came to a final portal, one she knew was a gateway unto her future. She paused for a moment, before stepping through.
It’s . . . beautiful.
^Welcome, Listras,^ cast an unknown mind. ^Welcome to the Sphere of Mal.^
The Sphere of Mal was as the interior of a great ovoid, larger than the largest mall Plaza she had ever seen, filled with what seemed to be endless levels of lights, and people, working, moving, and shifting. So much activity filled every facet of her vision, so much technology new and different begged to be identified, that for a moment, she forgot who she was, and why she was there. She could think of a hundred others that wouldn’t believe her now, no matter how hard she would try to convince them. It was almost surreal, that something such as this could have been constructed.
What?
A light, brilliant and hot, consumed her, stunning her momentarily.
A scan?
In a moment it was over, and she could see what was before her.
This is our future, she thought to herself, coming to her senses, become Listras again. This is what I was created to protect, what I was destined to serve.
^Listras . . .^
She could nest the same mind cast her name, beckoning her from above. She looked up, and could feel the voice was beckoning her to the upper levels of the Sphere, which appeared to be at least a full til above her.
^Come forward Listras.^
She slowly proceeded forward, taking in the sights around her. Meta scurried back and forth, an untold multitude moving in concert with each other. She could feel a pressure on her mind emanating from the machinery around her, forcing her not to concentrate too hard on what she saw.
The mind of Mal . . .
After what seemed to be an eternity, she felt another cast.
^Stand still, Listras. Focus in on this cast, and relax. We shall bring you to us.^
She relaxed, and in a moment, felt her feet leave the ground. She looked down, and realized she was on a small platform, which apparently floated in the air without any support. Slowly at first, then with building speed, she ascended to the uppermost point in the Sphere. Though she knew she should be looking all around her, at this technological miracle, she surrendered instead to the sensation, to the feeling of oneness with a supreme power. She closed her eyes, and extended her hands, as she flew through the air to her waiting destiny.
Her body was in a state of total bliss. For those moments she felt clarity, and understanding, such as one might feel in the presence of their creator. Her fingertips tingled with an electric sensation, spreading down through her arms, over her shoulders, finally coursing in waves through her very soul. She felt ashamed of her lack of faith in Mal, her arrogant attitude to those who believed Mal to be a Holis. For now, this close to Mal’s presence, she felt she could only be in the presence of the divine. She could feel she was being purged of all doubt, all sin, becoming at last only Listras. After what seemed to be an eternity, she slowed, opened her eyes, and saw she was approaching a circular opening above her. She floated through into a warm, small circular room, covered in colors of nature — greens, browns, yellows, reds, with golden pillars around its circumference. A large window opened onto the void, and the toroid of Mal could be seen nearby, glowing a fiery red. Three figures were seated in chairs lined with gold, surrounding her and the opening she came through, which disappeared as a floor slid to fill it.
^I am Agilia.^
^I am Reltan.^
^I am Suldhaj.^
^Welcome, Listras, to the Ehlios,^ cast Agilia with a gracious smile. ^The room we are in is called the Nexus of Mal. Above us Mal becomes manifest, casting to us directly.^
Listras almost moaned in awe. ^Mal leaves the Cradle?^
^Yes,^ cast Agilia, remembering her own similar reaction. ^I see you have been cescting with the guide. Onam chose well, when he selected him to be guide on the shuttle. We are sure you have many questions, not the least of which is why you are here.^
^Yes, great ones.^
Agilia leaned forward, admiring the woman that stood before her. She saw in Listras a perfect TELREC creation; a focused mind, keen analytical skills, a disciplined body. Agilia had monitored Listras’ career with great attention, seeing vast potential in this unique TELREC. She had been the subject of many discussions with the other monitors as to who was superior — Rhonva or Listras. Suldhaj felt Rhonva was superior, as he was well versed in the skills of deception and guile, while Agilia and Reltan favored Listras, who would always uphold the honor of the TELREC above all else. Mal rarely commented on agents until it was absolutely necessary.
^Merely address us as Monitors, for that is what we are,^ cast Agilia. ^We monitor the input of data from chronicles, and monitor the decisions Mal puts forth regarding future projections. We deserve no reverence, for we are merely servants of Mal, as all TELREC are.^
^You honor me with your humility,^ Listras cast carefully.
^And you honor us with your service! Above all other agents, you have distinguished yourself as exemplary by making decisions most consistent with TELREC philosophy. You have upheld all facets of the highest discipline, and serve as a model to all who would be or who are agents.^
^What of . . . Martel?^ Listras could barely contain the fear and nervousness in her cast.
^You could not have anticipated the strength of Martel, nor were you prompted of his appearance. Though we regret the loss of such a source of information, we can, and must, move forward.^
^You have been chosen for a very special assignment,^ cast Reltan brusquely, as he stood and approached Listras. ^This is of the utmost importance, and must be carried out by someone who is beyond question in terms of their loyalty, their obedience and their integrity. You have achieved all you can in your capacity — the next level is to within Malhrer, with those in the Ehlios. Successful completion of this mission will include you within those select few. Do you accept?^
Listras felt numb with disbelief. To be accepted as one who would serve Mal, who would witness the workings of Mal, who would be near Mal’s presence each and every roa, was almost too much for her to handle.
^Without question, without hesitation.^
^Here is a download,^ cast Reltan.
Within tils, Listras understood the magnitude and the details concerning the mission. It took all her training, all her mental discipline to restrain her emotions, so wondrous was the assignment.
^I understand.^
Suldhaj looked on her with a hard focus, unforgiving in its intensity.
^We need you to truly think as a Novan, for a time,^ he cast strongly. ^The only way for success is to suppress your TELREC instincts, your code of conduct, and accept the sinful nature of the worst of our people. Graid, the Rell Kal-Alçon, has for some reason forsaken the religious logic of his people, and descended into the corruption of the worst of ours. That will prove to be his undoing, if you are able. You now have all the surveillance we have been able to gather on him — you know we know little of his power. He has never been tested in battle with our agents. You must be strong, Listras. Your success will mean the immediate Ascension of the Cuhli-pra, and the destruction of all of Rell. You hold it in your hands to insure the future success of all our people. Your name will become one of the most honored, and your place shall be at our side. Failure is death and dishonor, in our eyes and in the eyes of the Cuhli-pra.^
Listras held back the emotions welling in her heart and mind. She cast confidently, and without pause. ^I am TELREC. I shall prevail, no matter the cost. This, I promise, with my mind and soul.^
^Then leave us, Listras,^ cast Agilia, nodding to her. ^And best success.^
Listras bowed, as the opening appeared once again.
^Best success.^
Listras moved slowly back to the shuttle, taking in as much as she could of the Ehlios. As she boarded, her guide smiled gently at her, and escorted her to a seat within.
^You have met t
he Monitors?^
^Yes,^ replied Listras gravely, as the shuttle rose and departed the ship.
^They carry a great burden, the welfare of all our people. They alone stand between our people and the Rell.^
Listras turned to face him. ^Why are you here? I would think only meta would pilot and service a craft so important.^
^Our pilot is meta, I am souman,^ he cast, relaxing in his seat. ^There was a time when only meta serviced this craft, as few make the journey from the platforms to the Ehlios. It was many centuries ago, when a TELREC who distinguished herself in the service of Mal, who thwarted many plots of both Rell and Novan revolutionaries, asked the Monitors on her retirement roa to be aboard this shuttle. She cast that while she was happy to be allowed to stay on the platforms for the rest of her life, she so loved being in the presence of Mal, and wished to be closer. She cast that she knew the experience of first coming into Mal’s presence could be overwhelming for some, and felt a souman presence would mitigate the shock. All the Monitors remembered their first experiences of seeing the toroid of Mal, of realizing that Mal was in fact a sentient sun. After brief consultation with Mal, it was decided that a senior TELREC would serve as a guide on the shuttle, to assist novices on their journey to the Ehlios — her being chosen as the first. I was honored to be selected, on the roa of my retirement. To see one’s Holis, everyroa, to bask in Mal’s presence, is something that gives me a peace nothing else could.^
^Has Mal ever cast to you?^
^No,^ replied the guide, sadly. ^Mal casts to no one but the Monitors.^
Listras sat back, barely able to contain the excitement of the mission she was about to undertake.
^What is it?^ he asked, getting excited himself. ^You have learned of something, something wonderful! Cast to me, the Monitors often cast to me many secrets that stay only in my mind and theirs.^
^I . . . I am to destroy the Rell Kal-Alçon!^
He looked at Listras, contemplating her face and thoughts. ^This makes you happy?^
^This will mean the Ascension of the Cuhli-pra!^ she cast gleefully, the blood pumping in her face and hands.
^If there is one thing I’ve learned,^ cast the guide steadily, ^from the Monitors themselves, is that the Ascension will come, no matter what. Mal has ordained it. As Mal is a Holis, as Mal is the sentient sun, so the Cuhli-pra shall Ascend.^
^What are you casting?^ she asked, growing anxious.
^I sense much within you, Listras. You are someone with great power, power not even you fully understand. And yet . . . your destiny lies outside of your power, outside of your duty. I feel it, as if it were real and tangible.^
The shuttle arrived at a platform, and the doors opening, revealing a cold, white landing bay with hundreds of meta. Listras glanced back as the exterior bay door closed, caught one last glimpse of the sentient sun that was Mal. The guide then held her hands.
^There is much that lay ahead for you, Listras. I at once pity you, and envy you.^
It was late when Listras finally arrived home to a large single bedroom suite high in a mostly non-TELREC building on Core. Her door slid soundlessly open, revealing a sparsely decorated space, unchanged from when she first moved in — the walls were still in their original tan color. She had few possessions, and did not clutter her space. There was only one chair at a small table in front of the window, one reclining chair under a lamp, with a bookcase nearby, and, in an adjacent room, one small, thin bed. There were no decorations on the wall, for she preferred not to be distracted or reminded of anything when at home. The only indulgence was her books.
She started collecting soon after becoming a TELREC; able to afford them with the large lottment she earned every dcas. She didn’t have a lover or friends to spend it on, and she didn’t indulge in addictive pleasures, save the books. She became fascinated with them after a mission she commanded — an undercover one. The leader of the faction she infiltrated was fascinated by the written word. He said it gave the words permanence, becoming, though typed, a kind of art form. One felt as if they were consuming knowledge to feel each page turn, to see the read pages grow in size. That man had some of the longest books ever written before downloads were invented, some in excess of three thousand pages. Dictionaries, encyclopedias mostly, with one or two works of fiction. He said the fiction was never very good at that length, but he reveled in the satisfaction of having completed a mammoth tome, and pride in seeing it displayed in a bookshelf. Even after he was arrested, and sentenced, he asked to be allowed to keep one of his books. Listras always wondered which book he chose.
Listras took similar pride in her collection. So far she possessed sixty written books, gathered from all over Novan. It took much longer to read then to have the contents downloaded but she also felt a unique satisfaction in completing a book, a pleasure in hefting it, holding so many pages filled with words. Much of her life lessons were gleaned from those she pursued; she took what was best, some kernel of truth from those who sought only to do wrong.
In particular, she loved the book called The Gathering Tree, by an author named Gruss. Telling the story of a group of ancient cave-dwellers, it chronicled of how they found a tree which amplified only the good within them, and of how some would rather destroy the tree. It had a heroine, named Essile, who was determined, intelligent, strong like Listras, yet who found love and a beautiful life with her lover. Listras would read it over and over, imagining herself to be Essile, imagining herself finding a love for all her life. When she returned home, almost everyroa she thought of Essile, and of the love she found, the life she led. At the end of the book she saw there were several sequels, but Listras could never find them in written form. She knew she could download them and print them herself, but she almost preferred to imagine what Essile would do, where she would go, and who she would love. But for once when she returned home, she did not think of Essile. Instead, she was consumed with joy from seeing the Monitors, and being blessed with the mission.
The Cuhli-pra lives! She thought to herself, as she blankly looked out the window, on a world devoid of that knowledge. To have a face, and a name! Kolob, oh what a man. To have seen him! If only I had known then who he was, I would have touched him, told him he is not alone, that there are so many who love him, and would be with him. How I envy Rhonva — to spend all that time with our Cuhli-pra! Oh, the joy he must feel.
Tears streamed down her face as she felt justification for a whole lifetime’s worth of work, for her faith. She fell to her knees, finally allowing the emotion she felt within Malhrer to wash through her, such utter joy and relief. Some small part of the clarity she felt remained, maybe more as memory that reality, but she clung to it desperately, feeling it within her again and again.
Oh Kolob!
His name excited her; the mere pronunciation of the syllables stimulated and aroused her. She could not wait to cast to him, to touch him, to love him. Agilia’s face hung in her mind as she rocked back and forth, thinking of the gratitude she wished she could express.
Thank you, Agilia. I know not why you chose me. She thought of Graid, the small Rell man who stood between her and bliss. The Rell answer to Kolob had a name, and a face, that Listras studied with intensity.
Not much of a man, yet he is supposed to be quite powerful. No matter how powerful, I shall eliminate him, for you, Kolob. For you and all of Novans, past and future, to finally destroy Rell hopes, Rell arrogance, Rell evil. I shall atone for my mistake with Martel, and will be prepared for you, Graid. For if I fail, I don’t deserve to be a TELREC.
Listras pulled a small mirror out of one of her closets. Not one who indulged in pursuit of vanity, it was rare that she looked on herself in a reflection. But her assignment would require extensive cosmetic surgery, for Martel surely communicated her image to his Rell superiors.
I don’t know whether to be sad or happy. She ran her hands over her face, along her high cheekbones, over her small nose. She looked into her own eyes, seeing sadness reflected
where she thought none existed.
I must focus. There is too much at stake. Her mind wandered to the toroid housing the spinning sun that was Mal. It hung in her mind, taking its place at the center of her thoughts. A sentient sun. Mal is Holis. A sentient sun, Mal is Holis. I have stood before the Monitors, stood the presence of Holis. She remembered the words of her guide, cautioning her about her eventual destiny. No path is ever easy, if it leads to a place of worth.
Listras sat in her reading chair, looking over at the books sitting on a wooden bookcase.
I’ll make you proud of me, Essile.
Chapter 12