Events of the chapter: Shepard has strange dreams, Shepard attends biotic therapy, Garrus & Tali visit her at the Alliance rehab facility
PART I,
Chapter 10: The Harrow
"But Albion fled from the Divine Vision, with the Plow of Nations enflaming
The Living Creatures madden and Albion fell into the Furrow, and
the Plow went over him & the Living was Plowed in among the Dead
But his Spectre went over the starry Plow. Albion fled beneath the Plow
Till he came to the Rock of Ages & he took his seat upon the Rock."
- Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion, William Blake
8 months after the Reaper War
Vancouver, Earth
It 's winter again. She walks by the winding stream, with its margins made of cloudy ice like frosted glass. The flora is fast asleep; the trees are only spindly trunks now, while their twigs hang on. Further upstream, the snow begins to bluster at severe angles, relentless and blinding, and within a few minutes it's almost too thick to walk. The impatient sky darkens. The stars appear—snowflakes of the firmament, suspended aloft before reaching earth.
The stream leads to a clearing: it's the farm on Mindoir. The buildings are burning. A fuel cell combusts, sending flames bursting and sizzling from all sides. The sap-covered wounds of stems cauterize and then ignite. The smell of crops on fire—rich, acrid, sweet. From the heart of the fire, a child's voice:
Wake up.
Her father's creased eyes as he delights in her earnestness, pulling weeds from a kale patch. "Good job, Circe!"
You have a choice. More than you know.
Her mother's stern face, her hazel eyes glinting. Long dark braid under a brimmed hat.
The peace won't last.
Ashley, alone, clutching her side and guarding the bomb on Virmire, keeping the Geth at bay.
Your time is at an end, you must decide.
EDI, passionately confessing that she would risk death to defend her humanity.
I am the Catalyst.
Legion, ensnared inside the Geth dreadnought core.
Do what you must.
The Leviathan, dreadful, dark, and looming.
Rise up, but bury yourself. Be everywhere. Anywhere but here. Dig a hole. Sow a seed. Reach up and reach down, straight and tall. Gather your food for the fall.
ping...ping …ping…ping
The nagging chirp of Shepard's omnitool stirred her from a fitful sleep. She squinted and wiped at the sweat slicked across her hairline, stray strands of hair plastered where she had run her hand. She kicked the sheets to untangle them from her legs.
ping...ping …ping…ping
She silenced the omnitool. But her heart was still convulsing—a rhythmic thunder rolling through her chest. Turning onto her back, she gripped the edge of her bedcover and pulled it firmly to her chin. She took a long, deep inhale through her nostrils, until her torso was stretched at every corner. Hold…holding…holding…hold….go. A cool, steady exhale rushed through her pursed lips, emptying her lungs completely.
This was how Shepard began every morning now; dreams came without fail, each one gauzy and mercurial. What had begun as nightmares aboard the Normandy had continued as never-ending storms, gathering in the anxious recesses of her mind. Liminal spaces crowded with death. The people she'd let down, her failures and losses, brought together into the same plane of existence to haunt her. The dreams had only grown more intense during her time on the SSV Osaka. Shepard's talent for ignoring them had also grown.
Shepard rolled out of the bed and shuffled to the kitchenette. The tiny kitchenette—made up of a mini-fridge, countertop, and heating element—was luxurious and indulgent by current living standards. She felt guilty for enjoying any measure of comfort when there were so many with scarcely a roof over their heads. But being a patient at the rehab facility meant the Alliance called the shots on accommodations.
She snatched her water from the counter and took a big swig. Her bare feet bristled at the cold floor beneath them, and the thin fabric of her tank top—overstretched and ill-fitting—hung loosely from her frame, revealing the length of her sharp collarbone. It was too cold and damp to dress this way, but it was the price she paid for privilege. The great Commander Shepard.
She plunked down at the small table that doubled as a desk. Her leg bounced erratically as she scrolled through her messages; they were the only way she kept up with her old crew, most of whom were busy doing useful things. A rare message from Joker popped up on the display:
Hey Commander,
I hear you
're awake... Congratulations on not dying! Sorry for not contacting you until now. Wish I could be there to see you, but I've gone on a little trip. Not very far though.
Hugs and kisses! Xoxoxoxo
-Joker
p.s. I 'm glad you're ok. You deserve a break. I'll see you when I see you.
That little fucker Shepard thought with true fondness in her heart. Joker was the only one who shared her awful sense of humor. Garrus might entertain it, but he was far wittier and biting than she could ever be.
Her leg stopped bouncing. She read the subject of the next message: "Request: Commander Circe Shepard, Crucible debrief". Shepard chewed at the inner margin of her lower lip, contemplating the possibility of ignoring the message for the time being. The last thing she wanted to explain was the Catalyst, or anything that had happened on the Citadel that night. But Admiral Anderson deserved to have his story told. And the Illusive Man, who had trod the path of a true villain, would serve as an example of the insidious, complex nature of indoctrination.
Sighing, Shepard opened the the message. The Alliance had waited three months before contacting her; she knew the least she could do was read it.
Commander Shepard:
We formally request your presence at Alliance Headquarters, Vancouver for a debriefing session regarding the deployment of the Crucible. Please contact administration to schedule a meeting as soon as you are able.
Admiral Steven Hackett & Admiral Patricia Bhatt
She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. What the hell am I going to tell them? Letting out a a sharp snort, she sprang up from the chair. It was nearly 7:30 am; her biotic therapy session would start in half an hour. No time to reply right now.
Shepard exhaled sharply and lifted her arm, her hand trembling as she grimaced at the small, blue ball on the table. She had never wanted to tear something apart so badly in her life.
"Commander, I want you to take a moment to clear your mind. Concentrate all your attention on the ball. In your mind's eye, there is nothing but this ball. Everything else around you is not here," directed her therapist.
Tapping into her biotic system was never something she had to think much about before. It was like any other reflex: she had an action she wanted to perform and her body did it. Throw the batarian pirate over the railing. Now, it was like learning to walk again—or rather, crawl.
Sweat that had been beading on her forehead streaked down to her brow. Shepard ignored it and trained her eyes on the ball, picturing it torn apart from the inside out. She pulled her arm back and forcibly thrust her flat palm toward the ball. Her arm shook as she strained to generate dark energy. The ball stared back at her blankly, unmoved and unphased. She had flicked the switch, but nothing turned on.
"Damn it! Goddamn it!" she bellowed.
"Maybe we should take a short break, Commander. It's been over an hour, and we're getting close to the end of your session," said her therapist.
"Yeah, fine."
Shepard grabbed the towel from the back of her chair and smeared it across her face. Miranda had warned her that it might take a lot of work to regain control over her biotics, but this was worse than she imagined. The usual warm tingle she felt when activating her powers was gone—not a whisper of it to be found. Fuck. What's the problem? My eezo nodes are fine, right? She considered messaging Miranda or Dr. Paulsen right then and there but thought better of it. Don't be so impatient, Circe. Growth takes time. Shepard heard her mother's voice reaching out through her own thoughts. She stopped. Now is not the time to think of that.
After a long morning of therapy and medical examinations, Shepard stopped by her room for a quick refresh. While she was one of the lucky few with access to running water, she was still in the habit of having sponge baths from her time aboard the SSV Osaka. She didn't see a good reason to change that. Clean water was in short supply, and wasting it on a shower was taking it away from someone else.
Shepard brushed her hair smooth, framing the front of her face with her bangs. No messy look today—she would be having visitors this afternoon. Tali promised she would stop by before heading back to the Fleet, and Garrus too. Tali was leading a group of quarians who were making repairs and improvements throughout Sol, offering their services in exchange for supplies and support. The last Shepard had heard, they were making inroads in Hong Kong; they had re-established the continental communications network and repaired a handful of military vessels. Tali may have been an admiral, but she felt happiest when she was working on a problem or doing something tactile. There wasn't much need for the Admiralty Board to be present at all times with the war being over. Whatever business there was to take care of within the Migrant Fleet, the Conclave took care of themselves.
Shepard gulped down a nasty nutritional supplement per doctor's orders and settled in with her half-read murder mystery. She was just getting to a good part when a soft ping came from the door. She set her datapad down and went to the door.
"Taaaliiiiiiiiii!" Shepard threw her arms out for a hug as the door opened.
"Shepard! You seem very happy to see me..." Tali shrank a little, then accepted the hug from her overenthusiastic friend.
"Because I am! Come in, come in." She motioned for Tali to enter and directed her to the only seat at the table. "How are you? How was Hong Kong?"
"Busy!" said Tali as she sat down. "I've never seen so many people in one place! But I think we did good work there, helped a lot of people."
"Wow, that's great," said Shepard. She rolled her shoulders. The muscles in her chest had suddenly gone stiff.
"Doing favors for the humans, the asari, the turians...it can't hurt right? 'Diplomacy'. Maybe it will help us later," she said."Quarians certainly aren't lacking for work these days. Lacking in resources, sure, but when has that ever stopped us?"
"That's because quarians excel in bricolage. You always were a go-getter," said Shepard.
"Brico-what? What does that mean? Like bricks?" asked Tali, puzzled.
"It means being able to make something out of whatever's around," said Shepard, proud of herself for remembering the word.
"That's an awfully fancy word. I thought my translator went buggy."
Shepard pouted. "Don't look at me like that. I've had a lot of time to read lately..."
"I don't think I've ever seen you read a book," said Tali in a flat, deadpan tone.
"We were just a little bit busy on the Normandy. I can read!"
Tali laughed. "I'm just teasing. I know you can read."
Shepard stuck her tongue out.
"I'm not going to ask what that means." Tali shook her head. "How is your biotic therapy going? Any progress?"
"Ehh, it's going ok. Miranda said it would take a while, I'm not too worried," she replied. She thought of the small, blue ball from that morning and clawed the edge of the table as she leaned against it.
"Don't overdo it, Shepard. I know you well enough to know you'll push yourself too far, too fast."
"Nah, I'll be fine," she said. "Don't worry about me." Before she could say more, there was a soft rap at the door.
"Ah! That must be our favorite turian," said Tali.
Shepard crossed to the door and pressed the bypass. Immediately, she leapt back. "Garrus! What the hell!?"
Garrus, who had been standing with his nose right up against the door, was staring down at her as it opened. "Sorry, did I scare you?"
"Pfffft….nooo."
"Heh, I love you too," he said as he stepped inside. He carried a bundle of scant twigs with dainty, white flowers jutting from their ends. He held them up for her to see. "I remember you saying once that you missed real flowers, the kind that grew from the ground. I couldn't give them to you before because, well, space isn't so great for that."
Shepard took the twigs and inspected them closely. "Garrus...did you get these from the tree next to headquarters?"
His mandibles flapped shyly. "Hmmm..."
"He totally did," quipped Tali.
"Oh honey, it's the thought that counts," Shepard said sarcastically. She hugged him and grinned, still clutching the twigs. "I love them."
"Hey, Tali," Garrus said as she stood up to greet him. "How's life on the Fleet?"
"She's been in Hong Kong for the last month," said Shepard.
"Oh, that's right. Sorry, my mind is swimming right now. I've been tied up in this Reaper business…"
"I thought turians don't swim?" asked Tali.
"You know what I mean."
"I missed you, Garrus," she replied with a mischievous grin.
It wasn't long before Shepard realized they would grow very uncomfortable, very quickly, standing around in her small room. "Hey, do you two want to get out of here? Maybe we can go for a walk, or find somewhere to sit down outside. It's a little crowded with the three of us."
"Maybe you're right. We should go," said Garrus.
"Hey, that's my line," said Shepard.
"Right, sorry."
The three companions walked along the waterfront for some time, then cut across town before finding somewhere quiet to talk—a part of the seawall that had somehow managed to hold fast against destruction. They sat side by side, overlooking English Bay.
"English Bay? That sounds familiar. Didn't Kaidan say his parents have a place around here?" asked Tali.
"They used to," said Shepard. "The building was destroyed in the war like everything else. His mom was staying at their orchard when his dad died, all alone. He went to get her as soon as the war was over. She's in Vancouver now."
The wind had begun to kick up, and it blew the chill from the sea inland. Shepard shivered for a moment, then wrapped her arms around her waist as she hunched over to cradle herself. She lifted her chin to the sky. The sun was slanting low, casting an amber glaze over the bay.
"As if the death wasn't enough," Garrus said as he stared toward the water. "So many of us cut off from the ones we love. At least Kaidan was spared that pain…I'm happy for him."
Shepard's chest ached again, like the feeling from armor that had been done up too tightly. "I'm sorry."
"What do you have to be sorry for?"
She leaned her head against his shoulder and let the weight of her head sink into him. "The relays."
"Don't be. My family is alive—that's what matters."
Shepard tilted her gaze toward Tali. She was the person she was most sorry toward. In a time where the outlook was bleak, the warm glow of her friend's eyes had touched her heart in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. Rannoch, and the quarians' hopes for a permanent home, had been dashed away by a choice that was Shepard's alone.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Tali.
"When we made it to Rannoch, you were so…happy." Shepard sat up again. "I can only imagine how incredible that must have felt. You said you'd make a home there."
"And I will make a home there, my friend. I believe that." Tali draped an arm across Shepard's shoulders. "Keelah se'lai."
Keelah se'lai. Rannoch. Legion's last words. A lump caught in Shepard's throat.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," interrupted Garrus. "I never meant to put that on you."
"That doesn't make it any less true." Shepard stood up and jumped down from the wall, onto the beach.
Scanning the horizon, she caught a glimpse of a flock of geese. They were flying in a V formation high in the sky, quite a distance from the shore. Shepard shouted over her shoulder, "Did you know that geese fly like that to conserve energy? It lowers wind resistance. They take turns leading in the front so none of them get too tired. It makes it easier to keep tabs on each other too. That's how old Earth pilots used to fly." She watched the birds until they were specks of dust, then turned around. "There's something I haven't told you."
Garrus narrowed his eyes and edged closer to the brink of the wall.
"I haven't told anyone, really. The Alliance is going to ask and I won't have a choice." Shepard kicked her foot into the sand several times, then dragged the sole of her shoe along the surface. "When I beamed to the Citadel…a lot of things happened. But the thing is—what no one knows—is that I found the Catalyst. There, on the Citadel."
Garrus leapt down from the wall. "All that time we spent chasing it, and it was on the Citadel?" He scoffed.
Shepard pressed her lips together and nodded. "An AI."
Tali followed suit and leapt down from the wall. "The Catalyst was an AI in the Citadel?"
"Created by the Leviathans, supposedly. They wanted to stop synthetics from surpassing their creators and turning on them."
Garrus lifted his brow plates. "Wait, doesn't that seem backwards? Create an AI to stop AIs from hurting organics?"
"I didn't say it made sense." Shepard looked down and kicked at the sand again, this time sending some of it flying into the air. "This 'Catalyst' told me there were three ways to stop the Reapers. First option: sacrifice myself. Upload my consciousness through the Crucible and control the Reapers directly."
"That sounds…ludicrous," said Tali, shaking her head.
"What about the other two?" asked Garrus.
"Second option: merge synthetic and organic life. All life would be preserved going forward, but no one would get a say in the matter."
"Even more ludicrous," said Garrus. "How do we even know this thing was telling the truth?"
"We don't. I took a chance, and here we are."
"I'm guessing the final option is what destroyed the relays?" asked Tali.
Shepard nodded. "Destroy the Reapers using energy from the Crucible. It would target Reapers, but wipe out all other synthetics along with it."
"So EDI...and the Geth..." Tali hung her head.
Shepard watched the water lap up higher on the shore, smoothing old footprints into shallow impressions in the sand. It only took one more surge before they were erased all together.
"You made the right choice, Shepard," Garrus said in a low voice.
"Did I?" Her simple question brimmed with incredulity. "What if the Catalyst was right, what if it just starts all over again? I destroyed the relays. I cut billions of people off from their homeworlds, from resources, from each other. More death and suffering—and for what? So we can do it all over again?" Her shoulders fell as she looked down at her feet.
"We'll adapt, don't you think? It's what organics do," said Tali.
"Sure, but what about later? I had a chance to stop the cycle, and I didn't." Shepard searched the sky for the birds, but they were long gone. Her face scrunched up tight as she faced the sun.
Taking her hand, Garrus gently held it between his. "You can't think that way. It was war. There were untold losses, but there were more survivors than we ever expected to have. We could have been wiped out of existence, but we weren't. Life won, Shepard."
"And the Geth? EDI?" Shepard's voice climbed higher. "They adapted, didn't they? But I made the decision. Without their consent, without their knowledge. The decision that doomed them all."
Tali put her hand on Shepard's other arm. "Collateral damage, unfortunately."
"That's one way to put it," Shepard tugged her hand away and turned toward the water. "I just don't see how one person should be responsible for deciding the fate of an entire galaxy. Why?"
"Maybe it's best not to think about it too much." Garrus stepped in front of her and squeezed her shoulders firmly with both hands. "You are only one person. Do you remember what you told me? 'You do the best you can with the information you have.' And that's what you did. You made the best decision you could based on what you knew." He searched her eyes for affirmation of his words, and she stared back, her green eyes dull and wide.
"Maybe you're right. Thanks for listening." With a grim smile plastered on her face, she put her hand over Garrus' hand and patted it. "Thank you both."
The trio stood in silence was they watched the sun dip below the horizon. All the while, the same questions replayed themselves ad nauseam in Shepard's head. She couldn't help but wonder if she would have been better off shooting that creepy brat.
Song: "A Better Son/Daughter" - Rilo Kiley"
But you'll fight and you'll make it through / You'll fake it if you have to / And you'll show up for work with a smile / You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up/ And a better daughter or son / And a real good friend