The sapling stood in the same clearing the Tree of Voices had once occupied. Six months of growth left it about the height of a human child, two or three feet tall, growing fast in the rich Pandoran soil. Its discovery some months ago had been met with gratitude and joy; a sure sign from Eywa that life could never be defeated. The remains of the old tree were cleared from the spot, and the ground carefully tended, so the sapling would have plenty of room to grow. But no one had yet tried to bond with the newly sprouted glowing tendrils hanging from the young branches.
Jake had not asked about this, not wanting to offend anyone with his relative ignorance of the Omatikaya people and their ways, even after nearly a year of living among them. He'd learned a lot in that time, but there were still things he didn't know. Plenty of them, in fact; their culture was extremely complex, their relationship with nature entirely foreign to him when he'd arrived. It was a bit of a jump, to go from being a mindless grunt to being the leader of such a people, and there were still days he found himself reeling from it.
Like tonight. Standing beneath the boughs of new hometree and gazing at the distant gas giant their moon orbited, Jake found himself floored by the beauty of the world around him. It still took him by surprise, sometimes. It had been hard to admire it as much as he wanted, when he'd first arrived, and since then things had been so busy. After the battle with Quaritch and RDA, he'd had his hands full, helping the clan care for their wounded and bury their dead.
He'd done his own fair share of that, too. Grace's body had been removed from hometree and honored already, but there were others to honor as well: Tsu'tey, who had fallen by the gunmen in the shuttle. Trudy, who had given her life to protect him, giving him a chance to escape while she distracted Quarich. They'd even had a ceremony for Norm's Avatar, whose body could not be mended, much to his friend's dismay. He would live out the rest of his days on Pandora as a human. Jake knew it was a terrible blow for him, to have been Na'vi, felt the incredible power of bonding with the direhorses or communing with the Tree of Souls, then to lose it for good. He couldn't imagine it, himself; he felt like he'd always belonged in this body. Losing his queue would be worse than losing his legs had been.
At least Norm and Max were working on finding a way to let them breathe the toxic air without the aid of a rebreather. Jake helped them when he could, but he was no scientist; mostly he tried to stay out of their way, and pretended to ignore the envious looks they occasionally shot him.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't even hear Neytiri's approach until she was nearly directly behind him.
"Jake?" his mate murmured, drawing him back from his musings. He turned toward her and offered her a smile as she approached and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Have you spoken to them?" she said gently, as usual wasting no time getting straight to the point.
He blinked. "Spoken to who?"
His mate smiled. Six months pregnant, she glowed with it--literally. The bioluminescent pores on her face were brighter, enhanced by the hormones of pregnancy in some way he didn't quite understand. Grace would have, he thought, feeling a little sad. She would have taken samples and done studies and had the phenomenon analyzed and explained and published in half a dozen papers and one or two books before he'd had time to get over how beautiful it made Neytiri's eyes look in the fading light.
"You haven't gone to the tree of voices," Neytiri murmured.
Jake frowned, turning to look at the sapling, whose faint glow was visible from his current vantage point. "No," he agreed. "Should I?"
"The birth of a new Tree is very important," she told him. "They wait for you."
"They do?" he asked. "Who's 'they?'"
She simply smiled. "They wait for you to Speak," she said softly.
"Who waits for me to speak?" Jake tried again, bewildered. Usually Neytiri was more than willing to explain, but she was being surprisingly enigmatic right now. And by this point, Jake knew it wasn't a language barrier thing. Which meant it was just another of the thousands of things about the na'vi he still didn't understand.
"The spirits. You must Speak," she said again, lifting his braid and pulling it over his shoulder, stroking it gently where it lay against his chest. "And you must listen. They wait for you, Jake."
"Oh," Jake said, staring at his queue, in her hands, still not certain he understood, but knowing there was no use arguing when Neytiri got like this. "Um. When?"
"When you are ready," she said, stepping back with another gentle smile, echoing the words she'd spoken to him what felt like so long ago.
It was how Jake found himself standing before the sapling, feeling uncertain and completely out of place. Though he'd long accepted that the Na'vi's connection to their Goddess was far from mythological, he still felt a little out of his depth, when confronted with the reality. Some small, cynical human part of him still scoffed that he was about to talk to a tree.
He pushed it aside, picking up his braid and moving forward, kneeling in front of the tiny tree. It sported only about two dozen glowing tendrils, the longest of these no more than two feet, but there were glowing bulbs budding across its branches, and it was growing taller each day. One day it would be the same size and strength as its ancestor; for now, however, it was fragile, uncertain of its place in this beautiful, dangerous world.
Just like me, Jake thought with a tiny smile.
Reaching back, he took ahold of his braid, bringing it forward and lifting it toward the tendrils. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, here, exactly," he said, thinking of the voices he'd heard, under the fronds of the original tree. "So bear with me. I'll try to get this right."
Taking a deep breath, he reached out and took one of the delicate tentacles in his hand, bringing it forward and letting the waving filaments of his queue curl around it.
He closed his eyes, letting the connection wash over him. Even after all these months, the feel of these bonds could overwhelm him with the intense sensation of connecting to something so much bigger than himself. And, as before, voices rose up from the silence, distant and faint but distinct. The words eluded him, fading in and out of each other, but the voices were clear: a child's laughter, a mother's fond scolding, a great warrior's battle cry. They all drifted through his mind, echos of a glorious history of which he would now become a part.
"Thank you," he whispered softly, not sure whom he was speaking to, but needing to say it anyway. To the Na'vi; to his friends. To Eywa; maybe just to fate itself. To whatever miracle had brought him here, to stand beneath this young tree and listen to its memories.
Then, quite suddenly, a voice rose from the haze of the rest, near and very clear. Gratitude? From a jarhead? That's new.
Jake's eyes flew open on a startled gasp, and he promptly fell backwards, landing awkwardly on his butt. The movement wrenched the queue away from the tree, and the voices vanished; hurriedly, he scrambled forward, lifting his braid again and reconnecting as quickly as he could. Because that voice had sounded like...like... "Grace?"
He could almost picture the smile on her face, when she spoke again.
Who'd you expect, numbnuts? she replied, laughter in her voice.
He laughed brokenly, astonished. Was this some kind of hallucination...? "What...I mean, I...how..."
Couldn't leave without saying a proper goodbye, could I? Grace's voice gentled, some. Hey...you did good out there, Jake. Really, you did. I'm proud of you.
Jake swallowed, throat suddenly tight. "I...I tried," he stammered at last, gazing up at the tree.
You succeeded, she corrected him. The People are free. I was wrong; we did need you. Thank you, Jake.
"Grace," he whispered, reaching for the tree. "What is this? What...I mean where...are you okay? I mean...will you be...where are you?"
He felt a ripple of warm laughter rise up around him, trickling through his senses and making his eyes sting with sudden tears. He blinked desperately, trying to hold them back. It was really her. She was here. She wasn't gone, she was here!
Yes, I'm here, Jake, she said. I'm with you, all around you. We're all around you. It's real, Jake. Everything the Na'vi told us. It's real. She's real.
"I thought you didn't believe in fairytales," Jake whispered, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks when a few tears spilled in spite of his efforts.
I'm a good scientist, came the amused response. I'm willing to revise my beliefs when faced with immutable evidence to the contrary.
Jake laughed, brokenly, as more tears spilled free. He decided to let them, knowing there was little he could do to stop them anyway. He released a shuddering sigh as they streamed down his cheeks, falling to the soil below him. "God, Grace," he whispered. "I just...I can't believe..."
Never took you for the crying sort, Marine, a new voice suddenly spoke up.
Jake sucked in a sharp breath, spine straightening a little. "T-Trudy?" he whispered, reaching out to lay trembling fingers on the trunk of the tree.
Her laughter filled his mind. Yeah, it's me, she said, sounding pleased. Didja miss me?
"Something like that," he whispered, a trembling smile crossing his face as the grief of her loss began to fade some. "God, it's so good to hear your voice again."
Can't get rid of me that easily, she agreed, sounding smug. And hey, congratulations, by the way. Make sure you do a good job corrupting that kid of yours, since I can't be there to do it for you.
"You got it," he laughed, before murmuring, "Trudy, I wanted to say...well, thanks. For getting us out, for saving my life...for just...everything."
Hey, don't mention it, brother, she said warmly. Someone had to look out for your helpless ass, right?
"Right," he chuckled, lifting his fist and giving the trunk of the tree a gentle fist bump. He heard Trudy laugh softly.
Before he could speak again, ask them the questions he so desperately wanted to ask, a new presence made itself known through the link, and a third voice filled his mind.
Brother, it said softly.
He felt his eyes open very wide at the familiar, accented voice. "Tsu'tey," he breathed.
You are well, the na'vi murmured in response. It is good to see this.
"Yeah, I'm...I'm good," Jake said. "Tsu'tey...brother...I wanted to say...I'm sorry," he blurted, reaching up to scrub his cheeks. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I let our people suffer."
No, my brother. You have saved them.
Jake sniffled, opening his eyes and gazing up into the glowing fronds of the tree. "But I let so many die," he whispered, the ache of it still tearing him apart. "Children, Tsu'tey. Families torn apart because of me. Because I betrayed you all."
The great mother has always had a plan for you, Jake, Tsu'tey told him. The balance of life has been preserved, and our people will always remember those who died to make it so. By this, we will live.
"Tsu'tey," Jake whispered, laying his hand on the tree trunk, feeling a great weight lifted from his heart at the navi's words.
Take care of our people, Jakesully.
A gentle wind began to stir; Jake opened his eyes, and blinked, as the leaves of the surrounding trees began to rustle. The air was filled with a soft glow, as the clearing seemed to grow darker, and the tree's light intensified. Jake's heart was suddenly filled with the sounds of many voices, lifted in joyful song; more tears slipped from his eyes as he rose to his feet, looking around.
"What's...what's happening?" he whispered, swallowing.
The balance of energy must renew itself, Tsu'tey murmured. One life ends. Others must begin. We must return to our mother, so she may create new life.
"What?" Jake looked around wildly. "Wait, no! Where are you going? Tsu'tey? Trudy? Grace!"
Eywa will perserve our memory, Jake, Grace's voice came to him again, gentle. You will preserve our memory. But our energy, our souls, have to move on. It's how this world renews itself, and Eywa has blessed us by letting us become a part of it.
"But you're...you're leaving?" Jake asked, voice choked. "For good?"
Yes and no, Grace said. We're going to be reborn, Jake.
"Reborn...?"
Yeah. Freaky, huh? Trudy, this time, laughing. Too bad, too. I was looking forward to haunting you and Norm.
"So you're...you're going to be...what, reincarnated?"
No, Grace said. Not exactly. Not the way you're thinking. But our spirits are going to create new life.
Jake frowned. "I don't understand."
It's okay, Grace told him. You will, someday. Goodbye, Jake.
"Wh--Grace, no," Jake said desperately, stepping forward. "Wait--please. I lost you guys once, I...I can't lose you again."
Soft laughter filled his heart. Don't you get it, Jake? Trudy said. That's the point. You never will.
Jake frowned again, opening his mouth to protest, when he suddenly felt invisible fingers alight on his cheek. Too small to be Na'vi, they traced a path from his cheekbone to his jaw, before a pair of invisible lips pressed themselves to his brow.
Goodbye, Jake. And hello.
A ripple of energy, like a shockwave, moved out from the base of the tree. Jake looked down, confused, as the ripple spread, the forest coming alive around him. As the sun faded, the trees and plants began to grow, the world around him vibrating with life. Before his very eyes, shoots of green sprouted from the once barren ground, filling the tracks of the dozer that had plowed through the earth. Flowers blossomed, and grasses pushed up to fill the gaps between the saplings that were suddenly springing from the ground.
The tree itself pushed toward the sky, branches and limbs spreading through the canopy like thousands of arms reaching to embrace the sky. Soon, what had been a mere sapling stood at least twenty feet tall, and it would have taken three na'vi to reach all the way around the trunk. Jake found himself standing beneath a forest of tendrils, pulsing with light.
And drifting around him like snow through the heavy, fragrant air, hundreds of seeds from the Tree of Souls danced a timeless dance all their own.
See you around, soldier, Grace whispered.
Yeah, Trudy added, mischievous. Maybe sooner than you think.
Laughter filled his heart with a surge of love so powerful Jake dropped to his knees, laughing and crying all at once as thousands of voices rose together in brilliant song.
And then as quickly as it had started, the forest was still again, the singing fading as the glow of the tree dimmed once more.
Gasping a little, face streaked with tears, Jake let his queue fall from the tree. Unsteadily, he pushed himself to his feet and stepped away from the tree, turning to face the silent forest.
No, not silent, he realized. Never silent, not here. The forest teemed with activity: a viperwolf corralling her pups. A thanator marking a tree, advertising for a mate. Above, a flock of tetrapteron, calling to each other as they made their way back to their nesting grounds after a day's hunt. All around him, the forest was in motion, the ebb and flow of energy as constant as ever. Jake felt like he was seeing the forest with new eyes, finally understanding what the na'vi instinctively knew: life, all life, was precious. And even in death, nothing was ever wasted.
He was drawn from his thoughts by movement from behind him. Turning, he saw Neytiri stepping from the shadows, awe--but not surprise--in her eyes as she beheld the transformed clearing. "It is done," she murmured, moving to stand before him and rest her brow against his. "They have spoken to you."
He swallowed, hard, still feeling choked, but nodded. "Yeah," he managed. "They have."
Her smile broadened, as she reached down and pulled his hands to her belly. Jake knelt before her, bringing himself eye-level with the swell of their child. And beneath his hand, he felt a faint stir, as the baby kicked against his palm.
He gasped, looking up at Neytiri with wide, amazed eyes. She simply smiled, nodding once.
"They live, Jake," she whispered.
Swallowing hard, looking back at his hands, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her belly. And, as the child beneath his palm kicked again, he smiled.
* * *
