Marriner & Hildenstoy

2033 February 28 19:54 UT
Test Year 6, Day 67, 19:00 MST
Tau, MIT, Office of Julian Marriner

The meeting was over. Townsend, Marriner, and Delbert were outside, holding a press conference with representatives of the Tech, discussing the schedule of elections and the new government taking power as their larger-picture answer to prevent future tragedies. Already there would be parties forming. The oligarchs would be asked to head them, and would refuse any commanding positions. On this they had been able to agree.

Kathryn had avoided the public eye after the war. Most only knew that she had worked with the Beret squad that had attempted to capture Chao, not that she had led it and personally planned two-thirds of the operations of the assault. So to remain consistent, she could not participate in the launch of the government. As she waited for the conference to be over, she aimlessly cased the room. On the table, under an XO-3 tablet with a screen scribbled with drafts of the Techer constitution, was a long manuscript. Julian had been working on something far different from his usual musical selections and occasional compositions. This was some form of play, written out longhand on paper, and was obviously usually hidden. Kathryn saw the title and the list of characters, and recognized the names. She was looking over the fourth page when she heard the musician re-enter the room.

“What is the purpose of this? An opera about Elmund and Xin?”

“Don’t you see the drama and tragedy here? We made a great mistake in how we dealt with Chao. Star Chamber. Vigilante justice. It would have been better for us to risk the consequences of bringing the Failures down before they started. But we did not.”

“Pandora just had to open her box.”

“Yes. … Then we had to fight Chao and his people. You may not have computed the total cost. I figure it was seven hundred dead before the end. I know we all fought as well as we knew how, but Gera and Zijun knew the odds and the stakes when they volunteered for the antimissile guns. They didn’t flinch, didn’t try to duck the responsibility, did not accept the additional risk of sending someone else when it would have kept them safe. They did their job, through trauma no one should have to ever see. And then they died for it. They deserve to be remembered correctly and not just in the impersonal facts of your logs and Will’s messages and how the children know them. We need to honor them with emotion.”

“When will you show this?”

“I don’t know. It may never be finished. My heart may not be so strong. It can’t be performed, not yet. We need to heal more before this tale will make us strong.”

Kathryn might not have requested the same skills the musician had, but she wasn’t insensitive. She could see why he was writing this memorial to the fallen. He needed their deaths to have as much meaning as possible. “Your guilt is still that great?”

He nodded. “It is. And so is yours. That’s why you haven’t let your involvement in the war and your relationship with Pat be known.” He saw her brief wonder at his insight, damped with the memory of his training. “And it’s why I haven’t found a partner myself. Call it survivor guilt, for lack of a better name. It is a process, and we each go at our own pace.”

“I’m in that play, aren’t I?” The other nodded. “Then it had better be a while before you release it. And even then, don’t tell anyone about me and Pat, clear?” Her eyes glinted. “He can’t be a target if a parolee Failure comes after me.” But the question was a formality. She trusted Julian almost as much as she could trust anyone. Of course, she would not say that directly.