Chapter 466

The room was softly lit, with pastel colors that were soothing on the walls, posters reminding people that it was all right to feel things, even anger, at the things that have happened in their lives. There was a circle in the middle of the room, fourteen in all. There were Telkan there from all walks of life. Males, females, from barely adults to older Telkan who's fur was mostly silver.

"...the worst wasn't being behind the walls, wasn't being inside the above ground shelter," a female Telkan was saying, looking down and wringing her hands. "I volunteered to help in the medical center," she shuddered. "The Terrans, the Treana'ad, the Mantid, the others, would come in, bleeding everywhere, some of them screaming."

She looked up, her face wet with tears. "Some nights, all I can think of is one of the Terrans. A female, probably younger than me. She'd been pulled off the wall, almost torn apart by the Dwellerspawn," she looked back down. "Her SUDS was damaged. The doctor had put a red holotag on her, given her painkillers, and moved on. I was standing there crying, overcome with everything, everything happening when she opened her eyes."

She looked up, looking at the female Telkan dressed entirely in black. "She opened her eyes, reached out and touched my arm, and whispered at me not to cry. Told me that it would all be all right. Told me that though she had fallen, she would live on. She was praying when she died. All I could do was hold her bloody hand and pray with her while she died."

"I remember her. I can't help it. I looked it up, her SUDS was too damaged, the backup copies had been damaged at some point," the Telkan woman looked up. "I dream of her, and I worry that I wasn't, I don't know, maybe that I'm not good enough, that her life was wasted. That she had given her life for us and I'm a disappointment who still has nightmares."

She let go of the decorated wood, handing it to the female Telkan in black.

The female in black nodded slowly. "You were there," she said, her voice soft. "Humans fear dying alone. They draw comfort from having another there as they die," she looked around. "It is not like when the Overseers were here. Terrans gather together when someone dies. They have many rituals regarding the passing of a loved on."

The gathered Telkan all nodded.

"Sherva'ana, you were there for her. What do you do now?" the black garbed Telkan woman asked.

"I teach. I help teach broodcarriers iconography, how to use the public terminals, how to read signs," the Telkan female who had been talking said softly.

"What you do is important. I believe, and I have know many Terrans, that she would look at what you do and approve," the black garbed one said. "A Terran told me, once, that they had fought wars over the right for people to read, to be educated. Since before they had SUDS."

There was a light chime and everyone looked up.

"Today was a good day. Many of you are doing very much better. Your pelts are clean and groomed, your clothing looks good, and many of you are able to sleep at night, despite your dreams," the black garbed one said. "Remember, take your medication, hold tightly to your family and friends, and be there for one another."

The others all nodded as they all stood up. They all held hands and slowly recited a Terran prayer they had heard. A plea for strength, for endurance, for wisdom, and for courage. Afterwards they moved around, some leaving, some moving over to the table with treats and hot beverages. There was light talking, and slowly everyone but the black garbed Telkan woman left.

She sighed and put the remaining pastries away. She unplugged the caff-heater, closed the lid on the beverage cooler.

She lowered her head and allowed herself a moment of self-pity.

I miss you so much, she thought. We all miss you so much, Ustor.

She sighed and slowly refilled her cup of caff with the last of the carafe.

"I fear I can heal them, but who will heal me?" She asked softly.

"Through our works to help others, we are healed," a soft, gentle voice said from behind her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, straightening up. "The Bereavement Support Group for today is over. Do you need to," she started to ask, turning around.

A Terran sat on one of the chairs, holding the Speaking Stick, entirely made of streaming code that emulated modest clothing, hair, shoes, everything. There were patches on the figure's face, side of his head, back, and chest that were silver runes of ancient Telkans that the elves had discovered in ancient ruins.

The black garbed female stared in amazement. She looked around, looking for any holo-emitters that could be on.

They were all off.

"Come, sit," the Terran said softly, patting the seat next to him. "I am here, and perhaps you need someone to listen to you. It does not lessen you, does not change the great strength you have shown these long years."

The black garbed female nodded, moving up and sitting down. "Are... are you... are you the Digital Omnimessiah?"

The figure looked up. "The answer, like much of life, is complicated," the being said. He smiled, and suddenly the Telkan female felt better. The smile was gentle, caring, and confident, not only in himself, but in her. "But, yes, that is what I was called in time past."

She looked at him. "Why... why are you here?"

The figure looked around. "Everyone who had been here has called out to me. Asked for my strength, my wisdom, for me to walk with them and help them in their time of need."

The female licked her lips. "Then why are you here now? After the meeting?"

"Because, you do my work. You reach out with your heart, with your love, and seek to bring comfort to them in their pain," the figure said. "I wished to watch you with them, hear your words, watch you share your strength and wisdom with them."

He looked around. "I am learning about your people. You lost so much, but when you were asked by my Father, the universe itself, to defend what you could, asked for your courage if you wished to continue on, you did what had to be done."

He smiled again. "My Father requires you to do for yourself. He has provided the tools, the resources, but all else is up to you, together, and as individuals."

The Telkan in black nodded.

"You all shine with such a bright light," he said.

"May I ask you a question?" the woman in black asked.

"Of course," the glittering Terran said. He smiled and for a moment she wondered if he knew what she was going to ask.

"My husband, why did he have to die?" she asked. "Why was he taken from me? From our broodcarriers Elisha'anti and Emthe'eesa, from our children?"

The figure sighed. "He died, like all do, because of choices, free will, and events," the figure sighed again. "I will be truthful with you. At one point, I thought of protecting all who I met, preventing them from misery, pain, from even death."

"Why didn't you?" the Telkan asked.

"Because then, what have I done? I have wrapped them, confined them, stopped them from taking risks, taken away the very freedoms that I cherish," he gave a sudden laugh. "You have met Terrans. Do you think they would have submitted to what I felt was their best interest, what was best for them?"

The Telkan in black, Thelni'ista, laughed despite her slight anger and pain. "They would have fought you, died enmasse, thrown themselves against the gilded cage, even as you begged them to stop and told them that you loved them and only wanted to keep them safe," she shook her head, wiping her eyes."

The glittering being nodded. "He chose what he did. To defend you, to defend Elisha'anti and Emthe'eesa, to defend your podlings, to defend everyone's broodcarriers and podlings," the being said. "In the face of evil, in the face of something that would devour all, he stood there and spit his defiance in the names of all behind him."

"Did... did you see him fall?" she asked.

He nodded. "I have seen his fall. Not at the time. At the time I was... hampered."

"By your death," Thelni'ista nodded.

"Yes," he said.

"Was... was it terrible?" she asked softly.

The glittering figure shook his head. "No. At the very end, there was no pain. He would not give that to them, would not let them defile his body to hurt others," he looked at her. "He died with the names of his family on his lips."

"Can... can you show me?" she asked, licking her lips.

He shook his head. "My child, he would not want that. It was not quiet, it was not in his sleep. He fell with his battle brothers by his side. If I show you, those images will torture you, be burned into your mind and you would never forget them."

She swallowed thickly, tears coming heavy. "I miss him, and I am angry at you that he is gone."

The being nodded. "I understand," he gave a smile. "Just as I tell you that you may lean on me, you may also feel anger at me. Do not fear that I will be wroth at you for feeling anger at me."

"Why are you here if not to comfort me?" Thelni'ista asked.

The Terran smiled. "Chrome Peter asked me the same thing," he looked at her. "Do you remember what I told him?"

Thelni'ista nodded, swallowing. "That you were there to lay a burden upon his shoulders if he was willing."

The glittering Terran smiled. "Yes," he became serious. "I am here, Thelni'ista, to lay a great burden upon you, should you be willing to shoulder it."

Thelni'ista nodded. "I am afraid, but willing."

"My child, fear is natural, normal," the glittering being said. "You are suited to shoulder this burden as you already carry it and labor on its behalf," he said. He took her hand. "Are you willing to accept this burden in my name, for your people, as you carry it now?"

Thelni'ista thought about it. "What of Elisha'anti and Emthe'ees, what of my podlings?" she asked.

The glittering Terran took her hand with his other hand. "I would not ask you to give them up. They need you, your strength and your love."

She thought for a long moment, looking around herself.

"I accept this burden," she said.

"Then I name thee Thelni'ista the Widow, the Loving One," the glittering being said. He stood up and looked down at her, gently tugging on her hand. "Come, walk with me," he said.

"We have much to discuss."

Thelni'istra stood up.

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The scars from the war had been eased and smoothed away. The wooded glade held no clue of the desperate fifteen hour firefight that had gone on when the jungle had revealed the largest and most powerful of the creatures it had bred. Gone were the tanks of 3rd Armor and 8th Infantry. Gone were the hastily dug in fighting positions that had sheltered the combatants as they struggled bitterly against foes who sought only to devour. No more pools of Precursor Autonomous War Machine acid, lubricant, and hydraulic fluid. No more shattered armor embedded in the ground.

Now it was peaceful. Warm in the sunshine, hauntingly beautiful in the night. There were tree boles, ferns, and soft moss where podlings would often play.

There was no clue as to what had gone on here.

Only memories and official records remained.

Cel-ebrim-bor-277 moved silently among the plants, caring for them in strange ways that often involved whispered incantations and gentle touches. He was graceful, long of limb, a handsome face that somehow appealed to all species, with ancient compassionate eyes. His long golden hair was bound up in a complex arrangement and held in place by a golden circlet decorated with green enameled leaves.

He was a wood elf.

And he had been born whole.

He remembered what had happened here. How he had fought next to the Telkan and Terran soldiers, facing the obscene and vile creatures spawned by the twisted jungle that perverted nature. He remembered the way his sword had flashed in the staccato light of muzzle flares. How the creatures had screamed and thrown themselves at the defenders in a fury made all the more intense by the resistance of Cel-ebrim-bor and the others.

The wood elf paused, gently caressing a smooth covering of moss over a jagged rock. The rock was pockmarked, cracked here and there, by the weapons of the Defilers. He could remember ducking down behind the rock, taking cover next to a Telkan Marine as the Marine had waited an extra second for his weapon to cool.

To Cel-ebrim-bor this place was near to holy.

He moved around the trunk of a massive tree that reached up into the sky. Where he sat and read the Great Book of Creatures Great and Small and the Tome of Root and Leaf next to where he had once fallen, next to those he had fought as a brother, was on the other side.

When he parted the branches and leaves of one of the bushes protecting the glade he stopped.

There, on one of the patches of moss, sat a Terran made of glowing and twisting code. Laying next to him on the soft blue moss, her head in his lap as she silently wept, was a Telkan female dressed all in black.

Cel-ebrim-bor recognized the glittering figure. How could he not?

He also recognized the weeping figure.

Silently, he summoned his brothers and sisters and alerted his mother, the Queen.

They gathered, moving as only an elf could through the brush, and watched quietly. Cel-ebrim-bor's sister brought his sword and armor and helped him dress.

In the glade, watched over by wood elves and powerful elven sorceresses, the Digital Omnimessiah comforted The Widow.

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The hospital's eVI was pretty robust. As close to a digital sentience or artificial intelligence as an enhanced virtual intelligence could be. It had even learned basic emotions during the years it had worked as the hospital's eVI.

Still, he was unsure what to do.

The glittering figure of a Terran was in the Master I/O Port Signal Junction. It wasn't doing anything as far as the eVI could tell.

Just watching the feeds from the NICU, the Maternity Ward, and pediatrics.

He would often say "Hello, little one" and "I see you, little one" and "welcome little one" to those we would watch over.

The eVI considered it all.

When he had been the eVI of the Emergency Medical Clinic at the Refugee Base, he had once seen a severely wounded Telkan touched by other Telkan and all of them vanishing in a puff of purple smoke.

There were things in the meat world that defied simple explanation.

Why shouldn't there be strange things in the digital world also?

He merely notified the proper authorities and went to check the emergency room.

If the glittering Terran wanted to watch over children, well, who was he to stop them?

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"How many sightings?" Brentili'ik asked.

Her assistant, a Rigellian female by the unusual name of Martha Bennet, consulted her datapad again.

"Nearly thirty, just today," she said. She made a flicking motion toward the desk and the holoemitter popped on, showing a rotating band of pictures.

Brentili'ik watched as the pictures went by. Security cam footage, social media posts, hospital eVI alerts. All of them showing the same glittering picture.

"Is it some kind of prank? A virus?" Brentili'ik asked.

Bennet shook her head. "I checked SolNet, it's happening all over Confederate Space," she looked down at her pad again. "Even the Leebawians had a manifestation. A visit to someone called Ukk-uk-huk, who's apparently something of a local hero, as well as a manifestation to the largest chapter of the Word of Jawnconnor."

Brentili'ik stared for a long moment.

"The Terrans are gone, but their digital deity manifests itself now? Not when they needed him, but now?" she said softly. She looked at Bennet. "What does it mean?"

Bennet shrugged. "Perhaps it means that we are all still together, that just because the Terrans are gone does not mean we are alone again?"

Brentili'ik just nodded.

"These are strange times," she said softly.

On the holo-emmiter the vision of the Digital Omnimessiah comforting The Widow burned brightly.