2 – "For you who question why I did it are still in denial about the truth."
I'm staring at the account of a selfish man. It's the suicide note he left just before he blew his brains out. There's something I've never understood about Sandoval. If he truly hated Zo'or so much, why did he never directly try and kill Zo'or? Why would he do this, but not get rid of the person he truly hated? Maybe he always spared Zo'or because he and Zo'or are the same. I don't know how or why it works this way, but there seems to be striking similarities between the protector and the protected. Zo'or and Sandoval—prideful, selfish, power-hungry, and ever scheming. Da'an and I—compassionate, intelligent, altruistic, and riddled with imperfect emotions that have a tendency to get people hurt, especially the people closest to us. Maybe that's why we conflict so much. Killing Zo'or would be like killing himself, but then, why murder himself anyway in the end? It makes no sense to me, but then, much of my surrogate father's actions make no sense.
As for Zo'or…. no one knows where Zo'or is right now. He's disappeared. My heart pounds for Da'an. She's missing, and I think she's gone to look for Zo'or. Why in the hell did she go without me? What if I get there and something terrible happens to her?
The priests must be rolling with happiness right now. I still think they had something to do with this.
I wonder what will become of my father. Will they hold a service? I can't imagine who would come or even who would plan for the whole thing. Who could possibly mourn a man like him?
He's a prideful figure, my father. He despises the Synod just as much as we do, but he continued his service to them until the end, all the time giving up a portion of his soul. I think he did it because he liked it. I really think he had an inferiority complex. Being put in a position to make people's lives miserable was his way of compensating his own damaged ego. I want to know just what happened to him in his earlier life that made him this way.
Nothing pisses me off more than someone who thinks he's too good for this world. I shouldn't complain. I've been guilty of this more than once. But I just can't seem to get over that frustration. Everyone must feel both ways at some point in their life. It's how we learn: when we acknowledge our faults. Sandoval never quite understood that. He never thought he had any faults, and if he did, he wasn't the one who put them there. It was the Taelons' fault. It was Deedee's fault. Who knows whom else he's blamed? I think that people who naturally blame everyone else for their own problems grow to hate the world. Sooner or later, they lose all reason to be a part of it. They either commit suicide, or they live the rest of their lives as a shut-in. Either way, they are bitter individuals. We all fall into this rut every now and then. What separates us from them is that when we acknowledge our faults, we try to improve ourselves. Sandoval couldn't do that. That's why he hated this world and the Taelons so much.
I've blamed them too. I was close to becoming an arrogant prick just like him. Some still think I am. Don't think I haven't noticed. I can see their angry and spiteful glares. I've heard the gossip too. They call me a prejudiced Kimeran brat. That's just the clean version. I've heard all the slurs and hateful words, all reflecting back to a time when I was arrogant and antagonistic just like Sandoval.
I shouldn't blame their angry looks. They think I'm prejudiced against the entire Taelon race. They've all heard stories from members of the resistance and even from Da'an herself about my behavior a year ago. I'm sorry. I was just frustrated. Lili was gone, the state of emergency had nearly destroyed us—it wasn't just the Taelons I attacked. I attacked my own friends too. I attacked Auger, I attacked Renee, and I attacked Da'an the most. I think that's why they think I'm prejudiced. I can't blame them. After all, most of my attacks probably were just for that. I wanted to yell at a Taelon, and Da'an was the closest one. I keep thinking that if I had just swallowed my pride and put myself in check, maybe Da'an and Auger wouldn't have betrayed me. Da'an didn't trust me because I didn't trust her. She betrayed me first because she thought that I'd betray her.
They still think I have those tendencies. They think that I can't control my emotions and my temper just because of one bad year. Da'an gets the same glances from humans too. They think of her the same way the Espelons think of me. Somehow I've got to convince them that the ANA is not their enemy. I've got to show them that humanity is not out to destroy them just like everyone else. I'm not the supercilious bastard they think I am. I'm not prideful and arrogant.
I can't turn out like Sandoval! I refuse!
Nee'lan, the Taelon who had replaced Xia'tan, stared outside the window. It was the room of his predecessor. Unlike many of the new Synod members, Nee'lan was actually appreciative of the companion who had come before him. Nee'lan had always been a firm believer in respecting his elders. This new Synod was much different than the old Synod, he knew. The only companions who had not been replaced were Ku'ni, the South American companion, El'ii, the East Asian companion, and Li'or, the UN companion. Every new Synod member knew that there was a power struggle between Zo'or and the priests. The priests had the advantage outside the Synod, but Zo'or still had the advantage within the Synod. Most of the newest Synod members were allies of T'than, just like Nee'lan. The problem was that the cleansing had upgraded to the diplomats. Little by little, more diplomats either converted to the side of the priests or declared their loyalty when they otherwise would not have. This bad press surrounding the leak about Da'an's fate was not helping the situation. As the UN debated endlessly over whether or not to bring Zo'or to trial for his crimes, Zo'or grew more and more paranoid. He went to great lengths in the Commonality to find out who was on his side. However, it was apparent to most Taelons who had been cleansed. They all bore a strange mark on their hands and their eyes seemed darker than normal. The trouble lay in the fact that some were loyal to the priests who did not need cleansing. These were the silent assassins that kept Zo'or up endlessly.
Nee'lan did not know how to react to this silent war. All he could do was remain static like the rest of the Synod members. New Taelon diplomats from all corners of the Taelon territories were called to Earth by either the priests or T'than. Nee'lan and the Synod members loyal to T'than worried about Zo'or cracking. They worried about him in general. His paranoia seemed to be interfering with his logic. Often Zo'or would make decisions based on anger and jealousy. He demanded to be alone all the time. Sandoval was the only soul he would let near him during these times. These thoughts made Nee'lan ponder where Zo'or went wrong. Zo'or had been ruthless, but he had displayed the qualities of a great leader. He had such potential and he was throwing it away in anger. Anger—such a useless emotion, Nee'lan thought. Some of the worst and most impulsive decisions have been made in anger. It has torn families apart and caused so much pain. What good could possibly come from anger?
The sound of footsteps interrupted Nee'lan's thoughts. He turned to face the doorway when he heard the sound get louder. He walked in front of the doorway to face the visitor. When he opened the door, a sharp pain entered his lower abdomen. It had happened so quickly that Nee'lan did not get a good look at his attacker. By the time he was able to focus, the attacker had turned him on his side. Another sharp pain drilled into his back, and then Nee'lan heard the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. As he bled to death on the floor, he wondered what he had done to deserve such pain. But he would never find it.
The news of Nee'lan's death caught the Synod off guard, but Zo'or showed little to no concern over it. To Zo'or, it was one less traitor to deal with. When the news hit the airwaves, Zo'or already had a statement prepared for Sandoval.
"I still think it would be a good idea if you spoke to the press yourself," Sandoval suggested.
"I have no desire to speak with anyone as of now," Zo'or simply said.
"Are you feeling all right, Zo'or?"
"I am fine, of course. Why do you ask?"
"Perhaps you require some rest. You've had a trying day."
"Your motivational imperative over my welfare is overriding your practicality. I am fine. You of all people should understand this."
"Of course," Sandoval said to himself unenthusiastically.
"You are enjoying this, are you not?" Zo'or suddenly asked him.
"I enjoy lots of things, Zo'or, but not this," Sandoval replied.
"You are a bad liar."
"Maybe that's because I'm not lying."
"Why Sandoval? Why did you agree to this arrangement?"
"My reasons are my own."
"That is not good enough."
"Because the public thinks that you sent Da'an to the gallows. After all, that's why the UN is debating your going to trial."
"They will no doubt see a connection between Nee'lan's death and his. We will have to accelerate the timetable. Still, what does Da'an's death have to do with your reasoning?"
"Something I saw…that's all."
"And what was it that you saw?"
"Um…you…never told me what Da'an did to make you hate him so. We both know what end this will lead us to. There's no reason why we should carry our burdens with us when we carry this out."
Zo'or grinned wryly. The last person he wanted to unburden himself with was Sandoval.
Sandoval took the hint. "Why would they kill someone you already planned on eliminating and then blame you for his murder? Why not make an ally out of him? If their aim was always to destroy him, why didn't they just let him die the proper way?"
Zo'or smirked. "First of all, there is no proper way to die. There is however a proper way to kill. On the question of the priests, however, I will tell you this. To the priests, Da'an was nothing more than a catalyst. He was popular, compassionate, and beloved by all who knew him. Anyone who killed him would face the scourge of the public. Most likely, it was their intention to make an ally of Da'an. When he would not be turned however, they murdered him and then let the press put me on the scaffold. Hmm."
"What?"
"Not that Da'an is actually dead."
"You know?"
"Sandoval, everybody knows," Zo'or replied. "They know he survived his ordeal with the priests, whatever it was, and he escaped somewhere on Earth where his human friends hide him."
"Da'an said that you sought escape just like him. He said that you were stuck in a mind prison. I've heard other Taelons talk of this."
"Are you referring to those heretics who enticed Da'an with their delusions of freedom and grandeur?"
"And the Taelons who escaped the Moonbase during the beginning of the cleansing."
"We should have stopped the priests then when they were weak, but they distracted me with all of this nonsense within the press and within my own Synod. They are all traitors, and I intend to make an example of them."
"Does it have to be this way, Zo'or? Is there no other way? What if we escaped? You and I could step down and flee somewhere. You could disband the Synod and never return to this world again."
Zo'or glared at Agent Sandoval with furious eyes. However, the rest of his facial expression seemed empty and emotionless. "Are you patronizing me, Agent Sandoval?"
"I am doing nothing of the sort. I meant it. If escape is the only thing you seek—"
"It is not that simple. I just cannot let the priests win. I cannot let Da'an be right about me. I know what we plan to do is futile. The only reward it may offer us is vengeance, but I will not go down without a fight. The priests will not send me away quietly. They will not deprive me of my dignity."
"I grow tired of this battle Zo'or."
"Had you not failed miserably at obtaining Ma'el's relic, we could have avoided this altogether. After all isn't that why you came crawling back to me in shame saying that you would do anything I asked of you?"
"That's when you forced me to make this pledge to you."
"Are you saying that you did not believe in it when you shook my hand?"
"I see no need for this to continue," Sandoval scoffed, waving off his leader.
"Are you resigning, Agent Sandoval?" Zo'or said standing from his chair.
"I am…contemplating it," Sandoval said slowly walking from the bridge.
Zo'or felt his hands tremble, and his blush was almost black. "Damn it, Sandoval! We made a deal! Don't you dare turn your back on me now! Not after what you made me do!"
Sandoval turned sharply. "What I made you do! You were the one who made me agree to this deal, and then you asked me to let you be the one to take them all out. You begged me! You said you wanted all of their blood. You said you wanted to cleanse yourself of all of them and their treachery. What do you need me for, Zo'or? This is all you, not me."
"What do you want me to say?" Zo'or demanded antagonistically. But then he shifted his face away from Sandoval's gaze and covered his eyes as if they were in pain. His mouth was closed and his body barely declared any sort of pain at all. If was as if Zo'or had shifted all his pain to his eyes, and now he covered them. Those pale blue eyes—the only place he could hide the pain. He opened his mouth in a frosty whisper. "I will say anything."
Sandoval despised himself. This may have been his last chance to back out. This was his final chance at redemption. He had tried breaking his implant. It only resulted in the death of his wife. He had tried adopting the image that he had created for himself. He had attempted being the loyal servant to both Da'an and Zo'or. When he gave up one for the other, he realized just how foolish his mistake was. Maybe Da'an could have saved him. Maybe he could have freed him…the way he freed himself. He had tried siding with the Jaridians. Liam had ruined that for him. Even still, maybe he could go to Jaridia. After all, Lili had done so. Why would they not take him? For all he had done for them, it seemed like a good idea. That was his final option. This was his last chance. And when he stood at the gateway, he found himself running from it. He found himself returning back to the only master he had known. Why? Why follow such a cruel leader as Zo'or? Zo'or meant nothing to him! Then, why? Sandoval wanted to shoot himself.
Maybe it was because he realized that he and Zo'or were one and the same. They suffered the same torment outside and in. They had the same goals, in a sense. Freedom, control—freedom from the prison his own masters had created for him; control over his life and his actions. As he pondered this he realized that there was nothing for him out there. This is where he belonged. Here and only here was where he could redeem himself. At that point, Sandoval realized he would never find freedom outside. Only he could pave the path to freedom, and he could only do so here. It was a terrible goal, a bloody path—a path that he had started but had run from just as quickly. But he had sunk himself so deeply in the mud that all that was left for him was to claw his way through. If a few aphids died along the way, so what? He was going to be free, and upon attaining that freedom, he was going to make a terrible stand—terrible but somewhat noble. After all, Zo'or used this as revenge, but he could use it as redemption. He could do the one thing those fools in the Human Liberation Movement and the Atlantic National Alliance never had the courage to do. He liked this idea of himself. That was why he stayed. Seeing himself this way was the only image of himself he could somewhat tolerate.
"To think that it's come to this," Sandoval said solemnly. "I guess our ambitions were just too big for us."
"We are an ironic duo."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps this is some form of poetic justice. Fate has become our enemy. We tempted it, and we failed. This is our only honorable option, but it will be honorable to no one else but us."
"No one but you," Zo'or said. "I refuse to call this honor. This is a stand, and regardless of the fate that befalls me, I will be remembered for this."
"Yes…after all that is what everyone seeks somewhere along the line," Sandoval said to himself. "Everyone seeks to leave their mark in history somewhere, even if it is a mark of evil. We all just want to be remembered." He shook his head in some form of shame he could not describe. "I will follow you until the end, Zo'or," he said, facing his own distorted reflection.
"Thank you, Ronald," Zo'or said with a mix between a cruel and somber grin.
T'than took the news of Nee'lan's death with concern. Not for Nee'lan, of course. T'than had little time in his life for compassion. He was concerned for himself. Without a clear idea of who was responsible for the Taelon's death, T'than had no clue whether to be worried for his own safety. That was why when Liam offered a method to bring in more help T'than had accepted it gladly. He had heard nothing of this profiler, but she had come highly recommended from Hubble Urick, the White House, and Liam. Apparently she had assisted in Reyes's death and specialized in Taelon-style murders.
Malley and Liam were speaking to her right now, briefing her on Dr. Curzon's report. Curiosity had inclined T'than to observe her from his office. Her back was towards him, but he sensed something strange. Her movements and gestures disturbed him. Upon watching them turn towards his office, he rushed back to his chair to keep her from knowing how he had watched her. Malley was the only one who came.
"Where is she?" T'than demanded. "I will not have someone I have not even met protecting me."
"She's…um…she's kinda shy, I guess is the best way to put it. She's got some qualms about seeing you," Malley said. "Major Kincaid is trying to convince her. I guess she's just a little star struck."
"For her sake that had better be it," T'than said trying to see past Malley and get a look at her face. All he could see however was Liam's frustrated, flailing limbs as he tried to get her to at least walk in the room.
"T'than, I'm worried," Malley said.
"You are always worried," T'than said. "When I first chose you as my protector, you worried about walking in the rain with me…as if I was some kind of walking lightning rod."
Malley chuckled. "I guess I was pretty paranoid back then, but you worry about me too."
"I have reason to," T'than said. "You are diagnosed with a terminal illness. I am quite fine."
"About that…I guess I've always wondered why you chose me. Most Taelons saw my disease as a disability, regardless of how well I'm able to control it."
T'than smirked. "Are you going to tell me why you are so worried about me this time?"
"Well, I just—"
"Excuse me," Liam interrupted. "Um, she's okay now. She just got some jitters. She hasn't set foot in this embassy since she saw…um…well Da'an."
Her head hung low as he said it.
"T'than, this is Elaine Kingsley," Liam said.
The woman walked in with her head still hung low, her long hair covering every inch of her face.
"She does not gaze upon me," T'than said. "Does she fear me?"
"Elaine," Liam whispered quietly, shaking her shoulder.
Elaine lifted her head slowly. Her red hair seemed to brush behind her shoulders by itself. T'than suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine. This woman seemed hauntingly familiar, and her piercing eyes frightened him.
"T'than," Elaine acknowledged.
"It is…a pleasure," T'than said giving her the Taelon greeting.
"What is it you wish of me, T'than?" she asked simply.
"To assist in apprehending the murderer of Nee'lan," T'than answered, trying to regain his composure. "There is a possibility that all Synod members are at risk. Major Kincaid informed me of your work on the Reyes case. You were quite helpful in determining the weapon used to murder Reyes—a lead that unraveled the mystery of his death."
"Not quite," Elaine noted. "We never found the murderer."
"I doubt we ever will," T'than said. "Regardless, your assistance on the case is especially noteworthy."
"I need to see the crime scene," Elaine said distantly, brushing past Liam and out of the office.
"Elaine…uh…" Liam said trying his best to stop her, but she was too far away to hear him.
"Is she always like that?" Malley asked Liam.
"She's not the way she used to be," Liam said. "But I assure you, she is up to this."
"We shall see," T'than said, all the while trying to recall where he had seen those eyes.
