Prologue
He reviewed the notable instances in his mind. This had not been the first time he'd seen the boy's potential. He had decided years before that the boy was beyond that which others of his kind were capable, had decided years before to call the boy to him. But this had been the first time he'd realized the boy needed no call. He could figure it out on his own.
The alien had watched with boundless patience. Sooner or later, he knew, the young man would see what lay in store for him. Every situation, ever danger, every experience in his life had taught him that he was following the wrong course. This particular young man already seen that, but there are things we see at which we simply choose not to look.
The boy was afraid that if he looked, he'd see something he wanted to be but could never be, something he would never have the courage to become.
He had been taught for years - all his life - that a certain way was correct, another was less correct, still another was outright wrong. But now he was beginning to think it was all completely backward, and how could none of his kind see that? How could no one notice that what they believed in, what they had created, was entirely counterproductive to their own goal? For how much longer could he bear to be a part of something in which he did not believe?
Of course, some small part of him soldiered on, arguing inanely that if he remained, ascended to power, he could effect positive change from within. But the dominant majority of his being longed for freedom from the confused efforts of a disorganized organization. With freedom, as all who have sought it and won it know, comes the "unknown" that all Humans seem to fear instinctively. Everything this young man had ever known was part of his current way of life. Changing it would mean abandoning everything -- abandoning aspects he loved along with those he deplored. He wanted - he needed - to remain near what was familiar. Or did he? Some questions are too frightening for prolonged exploration.
The alien had more confidence in this young man than the young man had in himself. He was, after all, simply denying that he was at all different, more advanced, than most others of his race. The alien had perceived the boy's talent, if such a word could be used for such abilities, the first moment he had met him.
The alien knew, however, that before the young man would be ready, he would become more lost than he could ever imagine. It had been years in the boy's linear way of thinking before he had even been able to take the first step.
Still, the alien could not discount this episode in the boy's life so casually. This particular moment, for that is all it was: a moment, and at the same time, an eternal presence. It was neither a step nor a turning point, but signs of a breakthrough were beginning to show. The alien smiled gently, thinking how, if he were a Human, he would in all likelihood be looking through an old holophoto album and having similar thoughts.
This temporal retrospection was his closest assimilation. Yet it was more than reminiscing. It was a study: less than scrutiny, more than observation. The alien was continually starting at the beginning and bringing the story up to present, searching through it for a new perspective brought with the passing of time. Perhaps it was like watching an old favorite film after many years, when time and experience have flavoured one's perspective upon the story.
Yes.
Then here again were his memories, like an old favorite film one sees again for the first time.
He reviewed the notable instances in his mind. This had not been the first time he'd seen the boy's potential. He had decided years before that the boy was beyond that which others of his kind were capable, had decided years before to call the boy to him. But this had been the first time he'd realized the boy needed no call. He could figure it out on his own.
The alien had watched with boundless patience. Sooner or later, he knew, the young man would see what lay in store for him. Every situation, ever danger, every experience in his life had taught him that he was following the wrong course. This particular young man already seen that, but there are things we see at which we simply choose not to look.
The boy was afraid that if he looked, he'd see something he wanted to be but could never be, something he would never have the courage to become.
He had been taught for years - all his life - that a certain way was correct, another was less correct, still another was outright wrong. But now he was beginning to think it was all completely backward, and how could none of his kind see that? How could no one notice that what they believed in, what they had created, was entirely counterproductive to their own goal? For how much longer could he bear to be a part of something in which he did not believe?
Of course, some small part of him soldiered on, arguing inanely that if he remained, ascended to power, he could effect positive change from within. But the dominant majority of his being longed for freedom from the confused efforts of a disorganized organization. With freedom, as all who have sought it and won it know, comes the "unknown" that all Humans seem to fear instinctively. Everything this young man had ever known was part of his current way of life. Changing it would mean abandoning everything -- abandoning aspects he loved along with those he deplored. He wanted - he needed - to remain near what was familiar. Or did he? Some questions are too frightening for prolonged exploration.
The alien had more confidence in this young man than the young man had in himself. He was, after all, simply denying that he was at all different, more advanced, than most others of his race. The alien had perceived the boy's talent, if such a word could be used for such abilities, the first moment he had met him.
The alien knew, however, that before the young man would be ready, he would become more lost than he could ever imagine. It had been years in the boy's linear way of thinking before he had even been able to take the first step.
Still, the alien could not discount this episode in the boy's life so casually. This particular moment, for that is all it was: a moment, and at the same time, an eternal presence. It was neither a step nor a turning point, but signs of a breakthrough were beginning to show. The alien smiled gently, thinking how, if he were a Human, he would in all likelihood be looking through an old holophoto album and having similar thoughts.
This temporal retrospection was his closest assimilation. Yet it was more than reminiscing. It was a study: less than scrutiny, more than observation. The alien was continually starting at the beginning and bringing the story up to present, searching through it for a new perspective brought with the passing of time. Perhaps it was like watching an old favorite film after many years, when time and experience have flavoured one's perspective upon the story.
Yes.
Then here again were his memories, like an old favorite film one sees again for the first time.