Chapter 10-Absolution

oOo

Ames was eventually taken by a transport bus, along with other doomed inmates, to the facility where Rehabilitation would take place. By this time, news of his arrest had broken. The locals not only knew he was a socialist, but also knew that he had suggested paving the roads.

As a result, Ames was devastated at the act of stupidity he saw as his bus was en route; stupid, angry people were out with pickaxes and other tools, tearing the holes back open in the pavement. Ames could hardly hear them, but they were shouting "tough guy" mantras about how they were free, and socialism would never take hold here. They were also wearing their guns, and waving American flags. "Some people just don't want to be helped, if it means they were wrong before", Ames dryly thought to himself. "Screw me for caring then."

Also while Ames was held at the first facility, the businesses in Florida and other coastal states stopped retaining their runoff, promptly dumped all they had retained into the water, and denied ever retaining it when asked. After all, they didn't want to appear socialist when it surfaced that Ames suggested such measures in the first place.

The bus arrived that afternoon, and the inmates, including Ames, entered this facility's reception hall. A guard yelled at them, "Inmate intake, form a line on the left side!" The inmates got in this line, on the left side of the hall, leading down to a holding area where inmates would be issued their outfit or equipment, if any, and then sent into the arena. Ames could hear the shrieking crowd in the Coliseum, waiting for the bloodsport. He felt nauseous, but at least the end seemed near and would hopefully be fast.

Above the entry way heading down, a placard said "Rehabilitation Intake". However, on the right side of the hall, another line of inmates were heading through an entry way saying "Rehabilitation Release." These were prisoners who were released from this fate for some reason, such as a timely campaign contribution.

Ames hatched the most ingenious, bold and daring plan he could in that moment. He went over to the other line and said to a guard, "Excuse me. I'm actually supposed to be leaving this facility. I'm on a Top-Secret FBI operation that the public and media don't know about. The news story a couple days ago was a cover."

The guard initially answered, "Uhhm..."

Ames continued, "Yeah, the public and all the socialists out there think I went to Rehabilitation. They won't be expecting me, and I can go after them."

The guard eventually responded by lightly slapping Ames' side. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Well you better get on your way." He turned to the guard at the front of the release line. "Hey, get this guy through. Secret operation stuff."

Ames was actually surprised this worked, despite the low intelligence he had seen. He replied, as he was heading up, "Thanks! The Agency appreciates your patriotism."

The desk sergeant in this next room greeted Ames and took off his handcuffs and leg-irons. "Secret spy stuff? I wish my job was that fun. I'll need to send for your property and your vehicle in that case."

Ames couldn't wait this long, since his ruse would only be temporary. The FBI would surely notice his absence during Rehabilitation. "That'll be alright, I need to get moving. Can I call someone?" Ames had Lazarus Pendejo's cell phone number memorized by this point.

"Sure, I can just call the FBI-"

"Oh no, this is a strictly 'black' operation. The FBI isn't officially involved at all. I have a contact for off-the-books stuff."

"Ok, I'll dial it and give you the receiver." Ames gave him the number, took the receiver and heard Lazarus' voice on the other end. "Uh yeah? Busy batin'."

"Hey, this is Ames, the spy master guy."

"Oh hey bro! I saw some stuff on the news though."

"Yeah, it's actually not what it seems. It was a cover story-"

"A what?"

"Like, a fake story so people think I'm guilty so they won't suspect I'm still working for the FBI."

"Oh, ok. Pretty big fake story, I thought it was real."

"Yeah, we're the experts. Look, I'm at the Rehabilitation facility. You know it?"

"Yeah, I sometimes go and watch on Fridays. It's pretty rad."

"Yep. Well, I urgently need to go to-" Ames thought of a destination in the opposite direction of Dirty Dan's- "Baltimore. And then Philadelphia most likely. A ton of work needs to be done." He said this to throw off anyone who may be listening in on the jail phone, as well as the guards near him. When this ruse was inevitably blown, the FBI would be off his trail.

"Ok, be there in, like, 5."

"Thanks, see you soon."

Ames turned back to the desk sergeant, with his best serious tone. "Yep, Baltimore, and Philly. A lot of socialists, and I have some family there, so it's personal for me. Gotta get back there."

The desk sergeant nodded slightly and then said, "Your FBI contact for 'dark' ops doesn't know what a 'cover story' is?"

Ames paused for a moment, not sure what to say.

The desk sergeant then added, "You should really hire better people!"

"Yeah, we probably should." They shared a laugh, and then Ames went out to wait for Lazarus. He arrived shortly, and Ames got in.

"Man, this is trepidatious. Now you've got a super-secret mission in Baltimore? I guess I'm undercover too. Maybe I can get a badge."

"Actually, we've got a change of plans. Head to Dirty Dan's, we've got to get there immediately." Ames surmised that the other inmates who arrived with him would buy him some time as they went through their own Rehabilitation. When it came to his turn, they'd announce what he had done, and the FBI would quickly unravel this plot. He would likely be killed on sight.

"Oh yeah, get your daily dose of Vitamin T? Hahah!"

Ames had never heard the female upper body referred to by this term. "No, I'm actually meeting a contact there. This could be the big one." Ames kept his head down just to be safe, and also slumped down in the seat. It felt like an eternity, with Ames paranoid he would be seen, even though it was only half an hour. Lazarus eventually told him they had arrived.

Ames got out, and asked Lazarus to come with him. He wanted to say some final parting words before whatever came next. "Hey, how about you come with me? To the bar. I wanted to say a few things. Before my assignment starts." Lazarus parked up, shut off the engine, and also got out. The pair went toward the entrance.

Meanwhile, beginning that morning, other people were making their own plans. Cherkashinski, for one. He hadn't forgotten the humiliation caused to him by this little bastard. Also, Moscow was complaining about his slow work in gathering intelligence.

But now, after seeing Ames being sentenced to Rehabilitation, he could kill two birds with one stone. He could watch the prick die, and also concocted a plan for Moscow. He emailed the director of the Neo-Soviet Foreign Intelligence Service, or SVR:

"Hello Sir. You have been critical of my progress with obtaining intelligence. I have good news. I 'pinched' a high-ranking FBI agent, Robert Ames. He was the head of Domestic Terrorism. I got all of the intelligence out of him that I could, but it was worthless. So I leaked his treachery to the head of FBI. They decided to execute him, the first person of such high-ranking position. They made up a cover story about him being socialist. You can watch him die yourself on American Rehabilitation. I said you could depend on me. Do svidaniya."

Cherkashinski, confident in his reputation, left for Rehabilitation that afternoon to witness this in-person. He arrived early and secured a front-row seat. Smug and giddy, he waited.

Ames and Lazarus entered Dirty Dan's. The receptionist and bouncers recognized Ames, and had seen the news. "Ames! We thought you were a goner. What happened? How did you escape?", one of the bouncers said, as he came up to shake his hand and put his arm around him.

"It's a long story. I'll explain everything... oh, and my friend here. He's cool. I just asked him to come in for a moment. Did you guys get my package?"

"Yeah, we got it before the news broke. It's safe here."

"Can someone give it to me? I'll be at the bar with my friend here."

The bouncer left to retrieve it, while Ames and Lazarus headed off. Word of Ames' safe arrival was spreading around. The dancers at the tables nudged each other when they noticed Ames' arrival, also happy to see him.

Ames wanted to give what would be his final parting words to one of the only relatively OK, non-resistance people he had encountered. "Well Lazarus, it's been a wild time in this town. I saw alot of things that disturbed me, and I met alot of bad people. And you might be crude yourself, but I don't think you're a bad guy." The two ordered some drinks.

"Oh, that's cool. What kind of bad people did you see?" Lazarus asked.

"People who used their positions to hurt or exploit others. Greedy people. Callous, selfish people who took advantage of the fear other people have to only benefit themselves."

"Calla, calla..."

"'Callous' means you don't feel for others, you only want to help yourself. And there are tons of them here, unfortunately."

Their drinks arrived. Lazarus responded, "That's a good word, you're really smart with those. But those bad guys, are those the guys you're going after? Are they the socialists?"

"They don't call themselves 'socialists'. But it doesn't matter what they call themselves. I really think the nation got this way because all of our worst people-you know, the hypocrites, the lazy, the selfish-they all took advantage of whatever pissed people off, or what made them feel safe. They took over any talk about religion, about whatever problems the country had. They said what people wanted to hear, or what they wanted to be angry about."

"So you're going after them? How will you do that?"

Ames thought about how effective his "mission" had been. He couldn't travel back in time, though maybe his words would leave a mark on someone, here in 2305. Maybe it would start a dialogue, however unlikely, at least in the short-term. Maybe Ames was being over-optimistic. "I suppose I am. I've been doing everything I can. It's the longest-running mission I've ever been on. I'm just one guy trying to say what I think is right, what's important. Sometimes that's all you can do."

The bag arrived. Ames responded, "Hey thanks. Tell the others I'll be up to meet them shortly." He retrieved his phone, and considered the gold and diamonds. He might need them for a new life, or for other expenses, but he had an idea for their use.

Lazarus then said, regarding the "bad guys": "Oh yeah, and you pump them full of lead after that?"

Ames just chuckled. "I don't think so. I've never had to do that. Hey look, I wanted to ask you: do you have a family?'

"Oh no, I don't really know anyone. Do you? Why do you ask?"

"I don't really know anyone, at least anyone I would recommend." He briefly thought of Palin, but Lazarus deserved better. "But I ask because I really think if more people like you were involved, were in charge, the country wouldn't be like this. You're not a hypocrite, or a thieving asshole. And that's better than most. You haven't built a life on hurting or exploiting others. Do you have any lawyers in the family?" Ames asked because most politicians, it seemed, had a law degree. At least in 2022, with a few notable exceptions.

"Uh... no. That's like, for smart people."

"Well-" Ames thought of Cruz. "Not necessarily. 'Law school' may be easier than you think. Much easier than I thought... most people in government have a law degree, so you can start there. And I don't think you're a dumb guy. Maybe people have just told you that. But, here-" Ames got a diamond out of his bag. "You can take this. I know the taxi company paid for my fares. But this is a little bonus."

"Oh, awesome! I never got a tip this good... are you rich?"

"It's from the agency. The least I could do."

"I'm not arguing with that."

"If you have a family someday, if you have kids, you can help me even more. Tell them to go to law school, or some other advanced education. Tell them to think for themselves, and not just trust whatever they see in media, or whatever they hear a politician say. And for the love of god, don't give money to any political group. Most people who run for office are 'rich' anyway."

"How does that help you?"

"...it just does. A lot. I have some friends here, like the contact I mentioned earlier. I'd better go meet them."

"Ok, have fun. I'll be getting some Vitamin T."

"Sure thing bro." Ames shook his hand, and left to head upstairs while Lazarus went to one of the tables. This was the last time he would see him. Ames would have liked to invite him to join the Democrats, though he wouldn't want to be around socialists. But Lazarus was more of a victim than a villain, having been taught to hate people and ideas he had never met or fully understood. But maybe the next generation, or one after, would reverse some of what happened.

Bag in hand, the bouncers escorted him up to the executive area. He went up into the room with Kyrie, Hermann, Seymour, and a man Ames hadn't met yet. He was an older man in a green, sequined suit and black fingernails. They appeared to be talking about a plan, though when Ames entered, Kyrie rushed over. "Robert! I heard you escaped from Rehabilitation. No one's ever done that before. Thank goodness you're safe."

The two hugged while Seymor and Hermann smirked at the cheesy display. "Hey, sorry we couldn't return the favor. We were cooped up here, and will be for a little while longer anyway", Seymour said.

The bouncer accompanying Ames said, "He promised to explain everything. I'm sure it'll be exciting."

"Well", Ames began, "I found myself in the building where they run Rehabilitation, and I was in a line to go down into the arena and face-off with god-knows-what. There was another line for people being released. So I just... went over and told them I was on a top-secret FBI mission, and had to leave. They bought it."

"You're fucking with us", the older man in the green suit said, grinning and also being incredulous.

"No... some of these people are so stupid, you wonder how they remember to breathe. I guess they're also accustomed to believing whatever they're told, especially if an authority figure is involved. By the way, I don't think we've met."

"Dirty Dan", the man in the green suit said. "I'm the proprietor of this fine establishment. I usually keep out of the picture, but we need to arrange something fast. Things will get incredibly hot soon, with your escape. They will likely throw out a 'dragnet' and search everything within a radius for you. They have left me alone as long as they get their 'special taxes', and probably wouldn't even care about a Democrat being here, but this embarrassment might make them do something brash."

Ames informed him, "They think I'm in Baltimore, or Philly. That's what I told the guards at the Rehabilitation facility, where my 'secret mission' was. I also mentioned that I have family there."

"Good, that'll throw them off the trail, for awhile at least. That will make our plan easier. We can do what we typically do when refugees need to get out." He walked over to a map on the table the group was just chatting over. "Our supply trucks leave twice a week for booze and other necessities. It's routine, so local law wouldn't notice it." He traced a finger West from DC, and then began heading North. "We take people up to Niagara Falls where the trucks cross over into Canada. The trip takes about eight hours, non-stop. Their border agents know about our refugees, so that's not a problem. I've dealt with them before."

"When are we leaving again?", Hermann asked.

"We?", Ames thought.

"In the morning, maybe a bit later. That's when our supply run always is. Four people is pretty light, should be no problem."

Ames looked over at Kyrie. "You're going too?"

"Yeah, it is getting pretty hot, just like Dan said. I've outlived many in this type of work, so I should leave before I'm assassinated too. I can train others and coordinate, but I'm worthless if I'm dead." Kyrie was afraid, having seen so many friends arrested or killed. But she had also done more than her fair share, and hear death would only devastate those she met who were still operating.

Ames agreed. "You've seen alot of things, far more than I could have. You're lucky to be alive, getting out now is best."

Dirty Dan added, "After the trucks enter Niagra Falls, you'll go to an airstrip in St. Catharines. From there, you'll head to Ottawa."

Ames answered, "I've been there. I also spoke to their intelligence agency, CSIS. I gave them some Intel that they used in Ukraine. They were able to shove the Neo-Soviets back quite a bit, it was on the news." This impressed Kyrie; she remembered Ames saying he gave CSIS intel, though didn't realize how effective it was.

Dirty Dan didn't know this either. "That's pretty impressive. They should be happy to see you return then. Maybe you can even work for CSIS."

"Well maybe. That sounds fun. Maybe I'll have better co-workers."

Dirty Dan concluded the meeting. "So it's settled. We'll all sit tight until morning, around 9:00 AM. You guys can head out then." The group settled in, enjoying the peaceful time before heading out. They shared stories of what had happened in Miami and elsewhere, and people they met. Ames enjoyed telling the others what morons he had been working with in this dystopian FBI.

Evening set in. At the Rehabilitation arena, Cherkashinksi sat through the other inmates' ordeals, such as the classic giant lawnmower, monster truck versus the inmate in a tiny car, wrestling an alligator that's been pumped full of PCP, and being sprayed by the urine of a female bear in heat and then being chased by a grizzly. All family-friendly entertainment to be sure. However, Cherkashinski was growing increasingly agitated that one particular man was absent. Surely, as they were nearing the end, he would make an appearance?

The staff running Rehabilitation got on the intercom at the end, and made an announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have some operational differences tonight. Our last particular individual tonight, Robert Ames-", they were still getting information from the detention guards-, "was scheduled to appear here tonight, due to terrorism charges. But he left on a top-secret FBI mission. He's going to go get those SOCIALISTS!" Some in the crowd cheered, some were disappointed, but one was especially deflated.

The announcer continued, "So in lieu of his punishment, we'll be using our jumbotron to play the highligts from Monday night's 'Extreme Baseball: No Helmet Edition'!"

Cherkashinski was dumbfounded. He had now dug himself deeper into a hole. But he could prove that Ames had visited him, to support his claim of getting intel out of him? He had that security footage of Ames entering the embassy... well, damn. It would now appear that he outright lied to Moscow to cover for his incompetence. That would only mean one outcome.

He sat, listless and watching the "sports" highlights, wondering what he could do now. The music and atmosphere seeming flat, as if he was in a vacuum. Just then, he heard the midi Neo-Soviet anthem. It was his cell phone. "Oy, trakhni moyu zhizn'."

Back at Dirty Dan's night fell, and the four were asleep. Ames stirred awake however, in the early morning hours. Something was compelling him to make one final visit, to where this mission began, while he still could.

Music was still audible from downstairs, but it was still mostly quiet up here. Ames had free reign to go into most of the rooms, and so he went to one in particular. He walked past the old former offices, past the bouncers keeping an eye on things, and opened a set of double-doors to walk in.

This room, full of boxes and other stored items, had an old desk up against the opposite wall. Ames walked toward this desk, and saw a tattered office chair pinned on the wall. "So it's all still here, of all the things here. How about that? I guess there was no point in throwing it out."

Ames pulled the desk away, and slid the chair to where it was before. He then pulled a crate up, and sat in front of the desk. Now, 283 years later, this felt just like yesterday. This room was the CIA Director's office.

"Well Director. It looks like I'm back. Or as much as I can be. I have no idea where you are, probably long buried. Along with everyone else from back then." Ames paused, thinking of what to say in this moment. "Was my 'mission' a success? I guess it's not, technically, since I couldn't return and stop all the problems we wanted to. But maybe, it still wasn't a waste. I've found some purpose that I never thought I would back in that time. I have made a difference, I really think I have. And people have seen it. I don't feel like just a ghost that no one would care about, if I died or just vanished some day."

Ames leaned on the desk, remembering how the Director Woolsey briefed him for what may as well be death in 2022. "We've prepared your obituary", Directory Woolsey had said.

"Might, could", Ames remembered himself thinking, regarding the chances of this whole thing.

Ames continued: "It might look like you abandoned me, on some speculative experiment. Sure, there was the gold and diamonds, but that could have easily been recovered, if something went wrong. It wouldn't have mattered to many, so I may as well be abandoned. But I also think you gave me a gift more precious than anything, than you could have imagined. So I guess I have you to thank for that, even if this wasn't the outcome you expected. I'm proud of who I am, and proud of what I've done. Sometimes, that matters the most."

Ames stood up after awhile, turning toward the door to exit. He should get some sleep, after all. Just for a split second, from the corner of his eye, he thought he could see Director Woolsey waving him off, happy to see him again. In his tired state, he spun toward the chair, and saw no one. "Must be the nerves. It has been a long day. Every day's been."

Morning came, and the group made their preparations. The supply trucks were waiting in the basement. Hermann quipped to Seymour, "Heh, just like that previous jailbreak. We go down to the basement, get loaded up and taken out to freedom."

"Yeah", Ames said. Just then, he noticed a large tarp covering an object in the corner of the basement. He walked toward it.

Dirty Dan commented, "Oh yeah. That monument used to be out front, but when upstanding businessmen like myself bought the place, we brought it down here. It would look out of place, but I like it."

Ames lifted the tarp, and it was the old Kryptos monument that used to adorn the west courtyard of CIA HQ. "Hey, I remember this!... from history books, of course. Damn, it's beautiful to see it again." Ames had only told Kyrie that he came from 2022, and didn't want to voice his personal memory in front of the others.

"Well maybe once you have a new life you can buy it, though shipping to Ottawa would be expensive. Anyway, let's get loaded up and out of here." He turned to two in particular, "And Kyrie, Ames, it was great to have you both. You're providing hope to many. Just keep it up, and you'll inspire others to take your place."

Dirty Dan walked back upstairs, while his staff loaded for the trip. Kyrie and Seymour boarded the first truck so they could discuss chapter business and a successor in Miami, while Ames and Hermann got in the second, hidden among other cargo.

The trucks started up and pulled out. Ames could feel his truck go uphill, and then level out, pausing for awhile at the front gate, and then going up to highway speed. "I guess this is really it. I'm never returning to DC", he said.

"You'd be a dead man if you did", Hermann said.

"Yeah, it's a shame... what are you reading?"

Hermann was reading something on his cell phone. "Oh, this? It's a fanfiction I've been following. It's an anime series where one of the main female characters has to go on a dating show to pay off her unit's expenses."

"'Unit'? Like in the military?"

"I think so, I'm not really sure since I don't watch the show much. I just thought it was a funny premise. It's pretty good though."

"I might have to give that a read. I have a softspot for those trashy shows. They've gone downhill though recently." Ames pulled out his own phone for reading material.

Ames checked the news out of curiosity. News stories covering his escape centered on FBI activity in Baltimore, with their director claiming that any talk of a "super secret operation" involving Ames was a lie. He further claimed that this new FBI activity wasn't some sort of ruse to compensate for the Rehabilitaiton staff spilling the beans. The FBI would be tied up in a two-front war of trying to find Ames and countering this disinformation for a long time.

The director futilely claimed, "NO! He isn't on some sort of secret operation! We're looking for him because he really did escape, and now we can't find him! What's so hard to believe about that?"

Ames smirked and chucked at this display. Hermann looked up, "What's so funny over there?"

"Just like I was saying, the FBI is on a wild goose chase. How far are we now?"

"Probably a couple hours."

Those few hours passed, and the trucks stopped for customs at Niagara Falls. They then proceeded to the airfield at St. Catharines. Kyrie texted Ames and Hermann they had arrived.

Ames stepped out along with Hermann, and the four went toward the control tower building. It was a pretty small runway, and this was the main building.. "I really should tend to my bladder", Ames said. "Time for that?"

"Sure thing", one of the Canadian officials said. "We have refugees come through here all the time, so you can get a pit stop after being in the truck for that long. So what are your stories, why are you coming up here?"

Kyrie informed him of who they were, especially Ames. The official responded, "Hey, I saw him on the news, eh! So he almost got his balls blown off in Rehabilitaiton. No one's escaped before, far as I know. But you're also a big deal, gotta get out before your luck runs out?"

"Exactly." Ames returned, and about an hour after this discourse, the four boarded their plane and left for Ottawa. The flight on their Cessna-style plane was an hour-and-a-half. Upon landing, the four were taken to the same hotel Ames had stayed at, north of the airport across the river in Gatineau, until they could be further processed. It was early evening now, the red sun setting over the Ottawa River that Ames enjoyed seeing earlier. The four hung out in the lobby waiting for rooms.

Ames at this point contacted the head of CSIS, Director Carlin, saying he was here and would seek permanent asylum. Possibly permanent employment. The official in St. Catharines had also informed CSIS that a high-ranking official from the FBI had escaped, and was now seeking asylum, since it would be of interest to him.

"Kyrie", Ames said, "It's been quite a long trip, but how about we go to that bridge over the river? It's a great view. And we may as well."

"Sure thing." The two went out to Alexandra Bridge. Ames commented, "That's their Parliament Building on the hill. Beautiful, isn't it? Hasn't changed since 2022. Good thing."

"Heh, yeah. It sure does look great."

"You know, when I was here last time, I also told the director of their intelligence agency, CSIS, about the time machine. I don't know if he believed me, but he still valued that intelligence I gave him about Ukraine. I might be able to get asylum under good terms now. Maybe work for them."

"That would be good for you."

Ames noticed a new email message, and informed Kyrie. "Speak of the Devil. He can see me tomorrow, and grant my wish. I can be 'Director of Foreign Terrorism'. Oh, and the Emperor gives his thanks too. I can put in a word for you."

"I guess the gold and diamonds have a use still?"

"Down payment on a house? I always rented before, so it'd be nice. It'll be easier to start a new life that way." Ames then turned to Kyrie. This was something he always wanted to say to a woman, under the right circumstances, though had little practical experience.

"So, we've become great friends and you've taught me alot. But we both escaped, a new chance to live free of fear and danger. I think you're someone that I'd like to be closer with. More than only friends, someone that I could trust with anything."

"...is this your first time trying this?", Kyrie asked while holding back laughter.

Oof. Yes it was. Ames replied, "I suppose it is. But everyone starts somewhere."

Kyrie didn't run off or make fun of him. She put his hand on her side, while Ames just got red and waited for a moment. Finally, Kyrie broke the silence, "You moron! This where you kiss me."

Ames did just that, and performed better than he expected. Things went from that moment just as Ames had always dreamed-his new career in Canada took off in ways it never did in his old life, earning accolades for performance and training new agents to conduct operations in the US, Ukraine and elsewhere. These agents would combat oppression, or at least soften the tribalism along political or religious lines. Kyrie also played a part.

As for Seymour and Hermann, they also settled into new careers working with the CSIS, sending agents to help Roald in Miami who was now the chapter head.

O'Rourke continued his work, but had to stay underground. Agents sent to Austin and other Texas cities would work with him to spread the Democrat cause.

Lazarus Pendejo would indeed start a family, and one of his sons would be the first in his family to go to college. This would start a trend in this family for higher education. Crude behavior still ran in the family, however.

Ames retired as Director of CSIS after a twenty-year career, and lived to see his eldest daughter Guinevere elected Prime Minister.

As an old man now, looking over that same river where he made his move all those years ago from Parliament Hill, Ames reflected on the time that had passed since he awoke from his cryogenic sleep; the people he met, the deeds he accomplished, and how it finally worked for him.

Thank goodness I have done my duty.

But I won for myself as well.

I persevered against horror, and shame, and tyranny. This is what makes a real man.

Kyrie, Guinevere and Ames' grandson Arthur came forward to join him as he viewed the river. It was just as beautiful a site as when he first saw it.

The End