Recombinant Bridgehead Chapter 42: Decision, an avatar fanfic

Hundreds of fluttering eyes settled upon Olo'eyktan Zayksuli standing above on a branch while clutching the sacred three-metre-long trumpet that had broken the spell of their madness. Neytiri kept her posture low as she absorbed every movement of her mate as he prepared to speak. |"Listen to me! You wanted to hold council before our tsahìk's return. So you leave me no choice but to make a decision without her. Since you are too afraid to return to Txurseng, then we will move tonight! We will journey to the Tree of Souls to encamp with our Great Mother. There, we will seek Her guidance for a new home. Does anyone object to this plan?"|

At first, it was silence, but then the voices came, and they were in shared agreement. The fears were quieted, and doubts were ceased. A decision had come at last.

|"Call for your mounts. We make the transition now."|

|"What of the Skypeople?"|

|"They will remain at Txurseng until a way is found. I do not forget them."|

And so, once again, the children sought the comforting arms of their Mother after their lives had been thrown into upheaval, seeking the stability and warmth of Her always-open home.

The procession was solemn on their journey. No songs were sung by the Omatikaya so as to not make light of the Anurai's suffering, for they were sympathetic about the loss of the boneyard. It was a famous site to all forest Na'vi—an archaeoastronomical art museum consisting of unique knowledge regarding both the inner world of life and the outer world above their heads. Just as the clans felt Hometree's demise, this event, too, would scar their memory.

The humans remained, as Jake said, in the confines of Sully's Grotto, who were in the dark about the unfolding events below, only for the Omatikaya to return and say they were moving out. Like an offended lover, The People made them aware, through brevity, of all that took place and the immutable decision they had reached. The Skypeople were knocked into a dreamlike state as they watched the reality unfold, many just dumbly standing around while others were completely unaware until they chanced to step out of their field cabins. Norman assured them that Jake wasn't about to leave them hanging dry and that this was only a temporary solution to hopefully lower tensions, but his assurances were not met favourably, for the humans felt utterly abandoned, and when the last of the Omatikaya left, it was hard for the olo'eyktan of the Dreamwalkers not to feel the same way.

In the cold, unpleasant hours alone inside High Camp, the humans awaited Jake, as he had promised to come the moment his people were relocated. They sat around the mouth of the cave, loitering on the stoop like evicted tenants.

"What do we even do? We can't even escape this rock without the help of their ikrans."

"Told you. They don't even see us."

"This is it," Nagata murmured; not even a drink would help him now.

"Are we really going to die?"

Norman the Dreamwalker stood by his ikran, petting the loyal creature solemnly as he listened to his clan ache. "No. We're not going to die. When Jake returns, he'll tell us his plan."

Max was sitting with his arms folded over his knees and gazed at his colleague reflectively. "Norm?" The avatar looked over at him. "This isn't fair to us."

"Jake's doing all he can. He's taking care of two people."

Max wasn't having it; he wasn't yelling, but his tone was fed up. "We want to hear your decision, Norman. What are you going to do for us?"

The leader was quiet as he saw into every set of despondent eyes.

"Please help us, Norm," Charity pleaded. "We're handicapped. The Omatikaya don't understand that."

A sour voice uttered, "They don't care."

"The moment the Na'vi taste what it's like to have us gone, they are not going to tolerate Jake trying to make it work again. They've been itching to get rid of us for years."

"Ilram's right," a woman said. "They won't take us back no matter what Jake tries."

"What do we do, Norman?"

Norman's head was now too heavy for his neck to keep upright. With a sigh, he had to unpleasantly remind them, "You're all aware of our only other option."

"Firing squad…" Max gulped.

"That's only an assumption," Norman said. "If we surrender, I think we stand a good chance that the RDA would let us live."

"And why would Ardmore not have us shot on sight?" Ilram challenged.

"Because we have these." The anthropologist patted his temple. "All of us here are highly-trained scientists with valuable knowledge about a hostile environment—how many other humans have in-the-field experience like we do?"

Charity made a face. "But to surrender to those barbarians?"

"They're going to want more than just our minds," Max warned. "They'll want to know everything about Jake."

"Then, we tell them." He shrugged. "Jake is moving his people. We don't know where to—and we tell them that. We give the RDA our full cooperation."

Ilram kept shaking his head. "Norm, this plan is suicide!"

The avatar crouched onto his feet. "This is the reality, everyone. It's either this or we chance it out here in High Camp until we run out of everything and can't live anymore. Surrender ourselves to Eywa or to the humans. Your pick."

"We've seen how this goddess of yours wants us dead. But our race?" Ilram then said to the others, "They might want us alive. I'm for going back."

For the first time, Nagata contributed to the decision process. "In my opinion, we need more if we want to convince them to let us live. And we have something they might want…"

"What's that?" Max implored, and Nagata replied with a knowing look that petrified the technician. "Hideaki, no! You can't share that information!"

"What information?" Norman queried.

"It's— No. No, Hideaki, you can't share it."

"It could buy us our lives," he said to his ear.

"You'd be putting Jake's daughter in danger!"

Norman fanned out his arms to silence their argument. "What are you two talking about? What's this about Kiri?"

Max wanted to reach over and clamp Nagata's mouth shut, but it was already too late.

"I researched the girl's blood. She's a recombinant."

"What did you just say?"

"She's a recombination of Grace Augustine's avatar and another species I have yet to identify. There's a chaotic chromosome in her that is beyond my comprehension—an evolutionary marvel of the Na'vi race."

Norman immediately demanded an answer from Max. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"We think…Grace Augustine cloned herself," he admitted reluctantly—and in that small group, there was not a single jaw that didn't drop.

"You mean Kiri is—?"

"Possibly a clone?—Yeah. What a secret to stumble upon, huh? Can't really believe it myself, but according to Nagata's findings, aside from Kiri having—technically her mother's—ninety-four chromosomes, there's one we can't account for. Augustine hybridized the fertilized egg with some unknown specimen. We're wondering if…maybe…this was the early stages of the recombinant project the RDA was secretly working on."

Charity was beside herself. "My god… Max, why haven't you shared this yet?"

"I was waiting for the chance to tell Norman."

"So, Jake doesn't know?" the avatar olo'eyktan was quick to ask.

"Not yet."

The Dreamwalker motioned his head up and down in deliberation as he took in the staggering revelation. "Are you sure about all this?"

"Positive, Norm. Just ask him." Max thumbed to Nagata. "He can show you his data."

"Grace Augustine is the reason the recombinants exist," the xenogenomicist proclaimed. "Behind our backs, the good doctor was dabbling in bioengineering."

"You watch what you say about her…" Norman warned.

"And why did she clone herself? Think about it! She couldn't stop her avatar from ageing, but she could create a new one. That's why she made this Kiri—to keep herself going."

"Grace would never do that!"

"But she did," Nagata squared off with the giant. "What she added to her clone, I don't know, but from what I've been researching, whatever specimen she used, it's capable of cell rejuvenation."

"Hold on, you never mentioned that, Hideaki."

"Like I said, I've been doing more research," he replied to Max. "Cell rejuvenation means the ageing process can not only be halted but reversed entirely. It is quite possible this child…is immortal."

Norman had to stop crouching and actually sit down, for he risked teetering. He finally added his two cents. "Have you guys forgotten Grace was just a botanist? She would never have been able to do any of this!"

"The ninth level…" Max commented, not wanting to play the devil's advocate, and Norman was struck dumb once again.

"So you're saying she assisted the RDA with this? That she is the one responsible for those demons' return? For Quaritch's return?! Max, you're asking too much of me to believe that about Grace."

"I'm not saying she knew what would happen! The most— The most I'm willing to hypothesize here is that they gave her an option to birth a clone—not so she could one day knock its brains out to possess it," he chastised, narrowing his eyes at Hideaki. "Maybe… Maybe she just wanted to have a daughter."

"A daughter with cell rejuvenation? How convenient."

"Shut up, Hideaki! I don't even think you know what you're talking about. Where would the doctor even find a specimen capable of cell rejuvenation?"

"The Tree of Souls…" Charity whispered to her companion.

"What did you say, Charity?" asked Norman.

"Oh, I… I remember Grace telling us once how the Na'vi have this mythos about the Tree of Souls—how it died in a lava flow, but they were able to bring it back to life using a single branch. It was just a legend…but I remember her telling us the story and saying there might be some truth in it."

Norman looked down with a shake of his head and spoke wistfully, "But you know she was never able to get a sample. She died under that tree. I was there."

"Kiri exists. All I'm saying is, what other secrets was she hiding?" Nagata asserted with confidence.

"It's a sacred site. You can't just walk in. She was only allowed because she was dying," Charity defended.

"Of course, the Na'vi would guard it tightly if those are the kind of secrets it holds. If we deliver this news to our people… Imagine the possibilities."

Norm watched as his camp started to split.

"The secret of eternal youth…"

"But we can't be sure that Kiri has this ability."

"I dunno. I'd feel dirty about handing over a girl to the RDA just to buy us a package."

"It's only the blood we'll give."

"Enough!" Norm silenced. After a tense moment of staring eyes and quieted tongues, he breathed deeply. "Nagata?" he entreated, and those watching were either concerned or comforted by their leader's defeated tone. "I'll need to see this for myself. Will you lead the way?"

The meeting adjourned, and all rose to attend the reveal. Hideaki Nagata led the party down the internals of the eerily quiet cave to his small dwelling. "Let me go fetch my materials first. I'll show you what I have, then explain to you my research." The others waited as he entered the vestibule alone.

Inside, the genius knew exactly where to find his evidence amongst all the unsightly clutter. He hurriedly gathered everything that pertained to the enigmatic child, but when his fingers pinched her blood vial, he paused to let his mortal eyes run up the lustrous red.

Outside, as the humans stood around, Max broke from the chatter when he noticed something. "Wait, Norm, where are you going?" The giant had taken a few steps to their supplies and very calmly plucked up a cylinder tank. He then walked back to Nagata's cabin, still not responding to the amassing questions from his audience. Standing with a blank expression before the window, the man brought up the canister over his head.

Charity shrieked.

Nagata spun to the sound of shattering glass as a white cloud of bad air rushed in to throttle him. He fell to his knees and scrambled to find his EXO pack when he laid eyes on the hissing cylinder. The humans outside were powerless to stop their crazed olo'eyktan as he fingered out a flint pack from his traveller's vest, then stripped it off while instructing his clan to take cover before setting the garment aflame. Nagata hollered cries of desperation, fighting to work the vestibule door. When it finally swung open, he tripped over himself in his mad dash to escape.

Norman tossed in the burning cloth.

Panting profusely, Nagata was on his back, grit under his palms as he gaped up at his valuable laboratory, now consumed in hellfire. All he ever owned—his entire life's work—gone in a wrathful blaze.

Then there was Norman, wisps of his black hair fluttering in the heat that drifted past his stoney face. When Nagata met his eyes, he shuffled backwards to get away from the maniacal giant. "If you ever consider selling out my brother's family"—Norman pointed to his handiwork—"I won't wait for you to run out next time!" He then faced his petrified clan and held their undivided attention. "No one—not one of you—tells the RDA about Kiri. Understood?"

The white sweltering faces trembled up and down.

Long after the last flame died out—when the humans were ready with an excuse for the fire—an ikran rider returned through the entrance, and Norman recognized the colouring immediately—it wasn't Bob.

"Oel ngati kameie, Neytiri."

She answered his polite gesture in kind. "Oel ngati kameie, Norman."

|"Could Jake not make it?"|

She shook her head in regret. |"No, the situation is still too volatile. Leaving the clan suddenly would only stir them into new fears. He must stay, but he sent me in his stead."|

|"Have you had any chance to sleep?"|

|"Do not worry of me. Sleep is a privilege."| Her nostrils pulled back. |"Why am I smelling smoke?"|

|"I had to take care of some business."|

Neytiri scrunched her entire face as she pulled away with an aggravated sigh. |"Everywhere I turn, there is chaos. The clan is speaking about returning to our old home before we moved to High Camp. They are all so desperate to escape this path that they are willfully forgetting the reason why we are here."|

|"This isn't a long-term solution for any of us. We've been making short-term decisions for the past sixteen years."|

Neytiri cast Norman such sad eyes that he was surprised to see it on the normally composed princess, and she chuckled to herself; a very human, helpless chuckle, he thought.

|"I have been guilty of making those short-term choices…"| she admitted. |"I did not care that Jake was a Dreamwalker. I cared only to be with him, no matter the chaos that would follow. My dear Eywa, how She is blessing me with the consequences of my choices."|

Norman was reading between the lines. |"Neytiri… Jake doesn't think he can make this work anymore, does he?"|

Her ears fell to their lowest point. |"Jake always finds ways to hold onto nothing and say there is something and somehow… Somehow, there always is. He did not send me to tell you he has given up. He will not say that."|

He folded his arms delicately. |"But the fact is, the Omatikaya have already made up their minds. Our tribes have stopped seeing into each other. The connection is broken. Everything has lost its balance."|

|"You see what I see. I want Jake to see the same."|

|"We've already made a decision, Neytiri. We're packing up our own camp too. We're heading to the fort come morning and surrendering to the Skypeople."|

"Norman…" she gasped.

|"Jake would never send us away. We have to do this so that your people can live. It's like the Na'vi keep saying—we're not meant for this world. Thank you for having us, my esteemed friend and sister. May Eywa replenish the family lost and smile upon all your years."|

She wanted to cry but didn't want to cry, for it was improper for a woman of her position to shed tears lightly in public, even before a cherished friend. |"You have been so good to my family."|

|"Your family is also my family."| He blushed.

Her mouth tightened. |"If you go, we will never see our faces again."|

|"No, your face will always live in my memory, Neytiri."|

|"Why are you so courteous?"| she started to mewl. |"You are the most detestable Skyperson—being so brazen as to speak better than my people!"|

Norman also laughed to disguise his tears, but his hand came up anyway to wipe them back. |"I'm sorry, Neytiri. I apologize for my familiarity."|

|"Saa! You are making it worse. You have taught my son too many good manners. He is not crass like other men. That is why he is still single. You have been a bad influence,"| she quipped, rubbing her eyes briefly.

|"I'm going to miss you too."| He smiled.

Neytiri had enough of formality and hugged him. |"This is all a bad omen—I sense it. Losing Spider and now you. I fear for Jake."|

|"Y-You will be enough…"| he stuttered, for he found Neytiri's press to be a bit distracting.

She pulled back. |"I'm worried I will not be. In the beginning, when I was young, I thought there was not the slightest chance of this happening to Jake. I've stopped being stupid. Becoming Omatikaya cannot stop him from being what he is inside—a Skyperson. If I were to be separated completely from my race, I would die of loneliness. All this time, he has had you. To lose that last connection with his kind… Norman, I do not know if I am ready to see the new person he would become."|

Norman gave himself time to digest her beautiful words; he was seldom graced with the privilege of hearing her inner thoughts.

|"I know it is queer of me to fear this,"| she continued. |"The Way stipulates all things must change. We do every day—every moment. But never have we seen so much evil change before. I am afraid."|

|"Jake's greatest happiness is you, Neytiri, not me. So long as he has that, I don't think you have to be afraid. You're the reason he wanted to become Omatikaya."| Norman palmed his chest. |"And me too."| He immediately fell into a fluster. "Uh, I m-m-mean, not to be with you, of course. I mean, Jake's conversion kinda paved the way. I just rode on his coattails." He cleared his throat.

Neytiri was deeply contemplative. |"I never saw it like that before…"|

|"You deserve more credit. You changed him, after all."|

|"What has affected you?"|

|"Eywa changes us... She has forever changed Jake! What I believed unquestionably as a child was starting to sound ridiculous, but it was always true. And I have been letting myself become blind. Eywa can change every one of us into something new."|

|"I don't understand you."|

Neytiri grinned gently. |"She changed Grace into Kiri."|

"What?" Norman gaped and sent his palms to his hair. |"Why did you just say Grace has become Kiri?"|

|"It is something my mother spoke. At the Tawkami village, she said my daughter is Grace brought back to us. She believes that in the transfer ceremony, Grace's animating force did enter her Dreamwalker body—her womb. I did not believe it at first, but when I look at my daughter, I see it with clear eyes."| Neytiri then smiled at herself, having the self-awareness to finally recognize the wisdom in not taking the role of tsahìk. |"For our Great Mother…nothing is impossible."|

"The transfer ceremony…" he whispered. "It wasn't Grace who… Ma Eywa… Where—" He twitched and slipped back into Na'vi. |"Where is Kiri now?"|

|"If the party encountered no troubles, she will be arriving shortly. That is also why I am here, to fetch her. I am loathe to break the news of our move to her. She will be separated from her mother's body."|

|"Do you want me to intercept them and explain to Kiri? It might be easier on her if I tell her we're choosing to leave for Bridgehead."|

Neytiri could not hide her relief. |"Yes, I would like that. Are you willing, Norman?"|

|"After Eywa, I am your humble servant."|

|"A curse on you."| She smiled again, ready to cry.

It was nightfall, and the Tawkami escort party had the targeted floating mountain in view; Mo'at pointed to it with her staff. |"That is our home ahead. Kiri, summon your ikran and begin flying us up into—" A banshee wail interrupted her, and there, descending from the canopy, was Norman. |"Olo'eyktan Ngam'en, I see you."|

|"And I, you, Tsahìk Mo'at."| Norman bowed to her and then to the whole of her party directly behind.

Mo'at dismounted and approached, saying in a low voice, |"We heard the Blue Flute."|

Norman bobbed his head, trying to keep his anxiousness to a minimum. |"Yes, a lot of things have happened today. The clan is safe. It was only an argument that broke out."|

|"How is our clan?"|

|"Better, thanks to our olo'eyktan. Neytiri will meet you at the clearing where council is held and tell you more. I have come to escort Kiri somewhere—to discuss something in private."|

Sensing this was a delicate matter, Mo'at stepped aside for the leader of the Dreamwalkers. As he approached the princess, he worked his hands. "Kiri? Would you like to come fly with me?"

The girl excused herself to shift her eyes over to Syotxa'. "Would you be okay if I left with my uncle?"

He smiled. "By all means. He is your family."

Norman observed the ongoing sign curiously. After noticing her uncle's inquisitive expression, Kiri said, "This is my friend, Syotxa'. He is olo'eyktan of the Tawkami. He knows finger-talk."

The news of her having made such a serendipitous friend brought Norman genuine happiness, sorely needed after what transpired. |"I see you, Olo'eyktan. Please forgive my lack of manners for not greeting you first."|

|"I humbly relinquish any importance I bring in the presence of the good lady, Mo'at, and her winsome granddaughter. An honour to meet you, Olo'eyktan Ngam'en."| Norman grinned upon seeing he found a challenger to his eloquence. |"I hope to reconvene and share stories with you after your return."| Syotxa' recaptured Kiri's eyes. "Have a pleasant flight."

Accepting her uncle's helping hand, Kiri dismounted and blew her clay whistle. Palm-Palm wasted no time to answer his lady's call and glided in with such grace that he did not fluster the direhorses as he perched next to Norman's ikran. The chimaeras boarded their flights and took off into the night sky with a farewell to the party.

The maiden felt her spirit lift as she flew once again on her chariot of sapphire. Nights were always her favourite time for flying when the winds were calmest, the air—cool, and all tanhì was shining. When she glided over the phosphorescent canopy, it was like she and Palm-Palm were a ship of light sailing over sparking waters. Her imagination ran at its fastest when she was untethered. No matter her adult woes, flying instantly made her a child again.

Her companion banked inward to brush her wings in play. She laughed and returned the act. Before long, they were both giggling as they flowed with each other through the currents. Norman was genuinely having fun when he looped over Kiri. He hooted to the young girl, and she whistled back, not stopping to wonder at his sudden puerile behaviour, for seeing him in this way seemed so natural. Her uncle was always different from other Na'vi; he could either be twice as eloquent, twice as serious, or twice as silly and for that reason, one could easily love him twice as much.

Norman levelled out and waved at Kiri to follow, readjusting his heading for a spot very, very precious to him.

It was a long, steady, but still calming, flight. After which, Norm guided Kiri down into the jungle to a location strange to her. She did not recognize this section of the forest, for they seldom travelled so far from home. Norman assured his niece, as he kept his bow ready, that she was perfectly safe under his guard. She laughed, for she knew it wasn't his preferred weapon; he was more of a spear man.

When Kiri saw the outline of a decrepit wood building, she cocked her head and looked to her uncle.

"I don't think you've ever been here before. Your mother used to all the time."

She gaped at the site when she realized what it was. Her brows arched in question, followed by a hand laid across her palm before bringing it up to her forehead.

"That's right. It's her old schoolhouse," he verified.

"I thought it was destroyed."

"No, just abandoned. Our people stay away from it."

"Because of the terrorist attack?"

He was ashamed she had to rely on ASL to complete her question. "Yeah. Your, uh, mother showed this site to me once. We used it as a base when your dad and I were both Dreamwalkers."

The girl approached the decrepit schoolhouse with reverence, walking up the steps and drifting her hands over the doorway to pick up on the story of what happened. The fingers caught the bullet holes, and she knew she was now standing at the spot where her aunt was killed. It was solemn for Kiri, taking in the history all over again, a story made real by the testimony that still stood. She stalled at the entrance, listening to the breeze that snuck its way in through the dead wood. After giving the schoolhouse a moment to talk to her, she stepped forward. Her feet disturbed something, and she looked down at the various-sized balls rolling in the dust—the old mobile solar system. Kiri crouched, needing both hands to pick up the miniature Naranawm, the size of a beachball, and turned it around slightly. She knelt again to pick up his satellite, Eywa'eveng, and like a child putting away her toys, she set the noble celestials on the table to be reunited. Gazing at the two, Kiri could perfectly envision her mother teaching the Na'vi children about the solar system—how old Polyphemus was, how long his storm clouds blustered, how many years he and Pandora were a mated pair and when they first conceived life together.

Her hands moved back to her sides as she swayed into a turnabout, taking in the schoolhouse for all that it was. She observed the weakening state of the rafters and wondered if some of the children gave her mother a hard time by climbing them, then dismissed the thought with a laugh: Grace would have just let them learn from wherever they were comfortable. Scant books occupied the shelves with their ink long since faded and their pages given over to rot; but, still, their form remained. Kiri delicately took one off the shelf and set her palm over the outline of an image indeterminable but had a sneaking suspicion it was a Lorax. She was very disappointed when her father informed her that no such species actually existed on his star. "If they did, we wouldn't have come to Pandora," she remembered him chuckling. She returned the book and made for another turn about the room, eventually arriving at the blackboard. There was a second pause as she let herself stand in the same spot Grace stood, picturing the lessons she once wrote on the board and telling the Omatikaya about her world and giving insight into theirs. She saw the children bounding up to the board to write out 'eyes,' 'ears,' and 'nose' only to teach Grace how to better say "menari," "memikyun," and "ontu." Thinking about ears, Kiri lifted a finger to twitch her own, wishing she, too, could have been a numeyu (student).

She understood why her uncle brought her here. Neglecting him long enough, she turned around to find him in the doorway as a silhouette, patiently waiting. After rubbing her cold arms warm, she came over and signed, "This is because it is time for my mother to return to Eywa, isn't it?"

The man bunched his lips in pain, wishing she wasn't making it so easy for him. "It is time to let go, Kiri." She bobbed her head, looking over the schoolhouse one last time. "I didn't want this to happen, but…my people, the Skypeople… We can't keep living with you. It's not sustainable anymore."

Her eyes filled out with surprise. "I thought things were well?"

"The Omatikaya have to move, and we can't go with them. Now— Now, Kiri, listen to me…" He had to take control of her shoulders to steady her. "Breathe. Inhale with me. One, two, three." She complied and they both took in a deep breath, a trick he taught her when she was little and prone to fits. When she yielded to his press, he sat her down on the school steps, then joined. "I know this is hard for you, but you understand that for new plants to grow, they need room. The Omatikaya need room." He acknowledged the budding of tears and rubbed her back. "I know you miss Spider. Look at it this way, Kiri. Maybe I will see him at Bridgehead, and I can tell him how you're doing?"

Her hands flashed. "You cannot go there. You will all be hurt or worse!"

"We have a plan of surrender that will spare us from that. We know they're not hurting Spider, so who knows? Maybe they will even let us visit the forest occasionally."

"I don't want you to go! I love you! You were always reminding me to keep up my faith in Eywa."

"I was?"

"You always believed, and you are an alien. Even when we struggled, you were always talking about Her. I do not want to see you go to the city where She isn't there."

"You know, Kiri, I can tell people about Her there, help them bring back the voice of our Earth, share the ways of the Na'vi and maybe teach them about…" He tripped on a happy laugh. "Faith." She cleaned her eyes as he rested a palm on her shoulder. "This is my path, Kiri. I know it's in my destiny to go home. I can't fulfil that if I stay here with you, no matter how much I want to."

She swallowed hard, then extended her thumb, index finger, and pinky, and wiggled her hand; he did the same. Her head dropped again. "I know my path too."

"You do?"

"I am meant to grow into a family—that is what Grandmother interpreted of my Dream Hunt. But it scares me, for I do not want such a path."

"Well, Kiri. It's possible you'll find someone who makes you really happy. It all depends on who you choose."

"I can't have children with Spider," she signed, then dropped her hands.

"Kiri? You…? Do you love Spider?"

Her head nodded, and it was such a heavy and painful nod that even Norman was struck.

"I see…"

"I know I cannot. I know Mother and Father would say no, and after what my grandmother said about my path, I was scared that even Eywa was saying no. Now he is gone, and I feel it was punishment because, in my heart, I had already chosen him for a mate and would not pick another."

"Kiri…" Norman attempted to soothe.

Under a downpour of tears, the full confession flowed forth, "I dreamt of one day taking him to the Tree of Souls—of Eywa making him a new body so he could be accepted as one of the people. I would take him on his Iknimaya, and I would watch over him on his Dream Hunt. I even asked him once what names he liked. I only told my sleeping mother this. You are the first seeing eyes I told."

"C'mere." He brought her in for a hug and rocked her. It was all very overwhelming for him. The whole day was one hit after another, but the biggest surprise of all was not that it was his old mentor reincarnated that he was comforting, but who it was, of all the people in the world, her heart ended up choosing. "It is perfectly okay to want Spider," he whispered. "If you two got together, you'd have my blessing."

Her palms beat his back in anguish.

"This is quite the weight you've been carrying." He felt her small head quiver up and down on his drenched shoulder.

After a breeze whisked away with the last of her caterwauls, she cleaned her face of the ugly flows and faced her uncle with resolve. "It is over now."

"Over? What do you mean?"

"I have asked the olo'eyktan of the Tawkami to be my mate."

"What? Kiri…?"

"Before we left, Grandmother explained to me how much the Omatikaya wanted to move, and all I could think about was how much living with the Tawkami had helped me. But I understand that to ask something that big of another clan without something in return is not the Na'vi way—it is not the Omatikaya way."

Norman was beginning to see the picture as it filled in with colour.

"With courage from Eywa, I asked the olo'eyktan if he would take in my clan in exchange for my kuru, and he accepted without any hesitance." She gave herself a respite before adding, "I think he is a man who sees more than he lets on. For this reason, I feel I can walk this path even though I'm scared."

"You've been…very busy."

"Could you tell my father for me? I fear my hands will shake too much."

"Seems to be my lot tonight. Sure, Kiri, I'll tell him." He took her face into his palms, inhaling deeply as he brushed her locks back with his thumbs. No words came to him, for no words were enough to convey how much he admired the spirit of Grace Augustine.

Rays of hope poked through the cottony veil, guiding the tired travellers back home. Norman's trip cost them the entire night, but he kept himself alert for his niece, who was riding with him. She was nodding off on his back with one fist curled up under her cheek as the passengerless Palm-Palm followed diligently behind.

The great arches of the world, flying buttresses stretching over plains, were magnificent, catching the sun, and he beckoned Kiri to look but then remembered she was asleep. It was okay, he thought, for she would have more chances in the future to enjoy these kinds of views; it was for him that it would be the last time. He sighed. He loved Pandora, he loved their Goddess, and he loved Her children. He was an alien who came to the world thinking he understood all matters of religion and philosophy; then, his eyes opened. For his many years on Pandora, the only thing he actually learnt was how to make peace with not knowing anything. He enjoyed the view for what it was, he enjoyed her presence for who she was, and he enjoyed their moment for what it would one day be: a beautiful memory. No human, nor Na'vi, was more one with the universe than Norman was at that point in time, flying back home with his niece, Kiri.

At the Tree of Souls, the well in which the organic altar grew, many Na'vi were also at rest. A few were awake, with one of them being Jake, and this was obvious by the heavy bags under his eyes—even if he could steal a moment to shut his lids, anxiety would just use invisible matchsticks to shove them back up. When he caught the wings of blue and black sailing overhead, he identified "Cupcake" immediately. Jake never understood what possessed Norman to call his ikran that, especially after learning it was male. He scurried past the sleeping multitude, where Norman was already making his way, carrying the sleeping princess in his arms. Jake quietly took over. "You were gone all night."

"It was a long talk."

"You're lucky I know you." He grinned, happy to have his daughter back again. She was oblivious to them both, for her spirit was away in a pleasant dream. Her father lifted her to where the family set up their sleeping mats, tiptoeing around the others till he found his Neytiri resting beside their son, then laid down their daughter, completing the scene. Jake glided a curled finger over his mate's face, taking in the sight of the three whose contentment filled him with such pride and honour that he stole a moment to appreciate it. "So, how did she take the news?"

"I'd say pretty good. She understands now."

He pulled up. "She's okay with it?"

"She made her peace."

Exhaling his gratitude, the man pressed his buddy's shoulders to doubly express his thanks. They walked away from those sleeping so as not to disturb them and took a stroll through the bordering forest beyond. The morning was divine—winds, thick with mist and husky scents, and rays most gold.

"I'm going to miss all this," the nature-lover said aloud.

Jake turned on his heel. "Miss what?"

Norman was dumbstruck for a moment before realizing he had two things to break to him. He wanted to swear. He was semi-miffed with Neytiri for not, at the very least, telling Jake the bad news, then acknowledged she probably fell asleep before getting the chance. "I, uh…" He put his hands on his sides and twiddled his foot. "Okay, Jake, I'm sorry. It's—it's the Hell's Gate blow up all over again."

"What are you talking about? What 'blow-up'? What are you saying?" his voice intensified.

Norman brought up both palms. "Jake, Jake, Jake. Listen to me. You know the attitude of the clan right now. I see it. You see it. Even if you find a spot that works for the both of us, the Omatikaya don't want us anymore."

"The Omatikaya don't understand!"

"Jake," he called to stop him, raising his hand again and letting it fall with his friend's temper. "They do understand. But even Kiri lost Spider."

He was silent. His best mate was right before him, and yet Jake felt incredibly alone. "What do you mean?"

"It means we're not meant to be together, and no amount of 'I see yous' will change that. I can't keep going back and forth between human and Na'vi. I have to pick one! And I'm choosing to stay human."

"Are you… Are you breaking up with me?"

"I kinda am. I'm sorry, bud."

He scrunched up his face in sheer indignation and hurriedly banished the idiotic tear with the side of his hand. "Norm, you can't do this to me!" He scowled. "I've busted my ass tryin' to keep you guys on, and you go and do this!" His arms flared as his head went everywhere. "Wait! You're a traitor—Bridgehead won't take you!"

"I'll send out a message of surrender."

"They'll shoot you on sight."

"Even if they do, the Omatikaya would be free to travel again."

"Damn it, Norman! This is a lousy ass decision! You stupid, motherf*****. I should have never made you f****** olo'eyktan of the humans. You're absolute s*** at it!"

Norm blinked at him. "Haven't seen the Aussie in a while…"

"It comes and goes," Jake remarked, kicking the dirt.

"C'mon, man, there's a good chance they'll take us like they took in the others who defected."

"Because Bridgehead offered them an exoneration! Why the hell would they show mercy to you?"

"We can return all the stolen property. It's only what? Two? Three hundred million dollars worth? Or…"

"Or what?"

"I could sell you out."

"What? Norm, you're not serious?"

"Oh, I'm serious."

Jake wasn't capable of a vocal response, only excessive blinking.

"It's just I don't think anything I could tell 'em will be relevant anymore since you'll be leaving High Camp, and I don't know where you're going."

Jake's hand dropped, and he straightened out, swaying a bit from the residual effect of the shock. "It's like my friend is telling me they've turned communist and are gonna go live behind the Iron Curtain."

The hippie lifted his invisible sickle. "'Workers of the World, Unite." He lowered it again. "So you guys can be free…"

"You've sacrificed so much of your life for my family," he said distantly. "I wished I could've done the same, but you had to go and be a f****** celibate."

"Kind of an oxymoron, Jake."

"Is it a religious choice?"

"Maybe." He swung out his arms. "But I think it makes me more of a stud—a challenge, you know?"

"You're a challenge, alright! You're leaving me! Breaking my heart here, Norman."

The anthropologist grinned. "Can you take it like a Marine?"

"I am!" he fired back, wiping his eyes. "You have any idea how gay Marines are?"

"I kinda pieced that one together over time."

The gyrene gave up acting tough and swung his arms out to take in his closest friend. "I'm going to miss you, man…"

"I'm going to miss you, too." He closed his eyes in a smile, then, after finding his nerve, took the plunge. "And Kiri's going to take a mate."

"What?!" Jake gripped Norman's shoulders and shoved him into a tree. "I'm sorry—Come again?"

"The olo'eyktan of the Tawkami—they made an arrangement." He shuddered.

The father paused with mouth agape; his eyes drifted to the Tree of Souls, then back at Norm. "He asked my Kiwi?"

"Yes."

"He wants to take a bite out of my precious little Kiwi?"

"Uh…?"

"I'm going to kill him."

Norman tripped over himself to catch up with the marching Marine. "Jake! Jake, wait! Kiri asked me to tell you!"

"And you didn't stop her?!" He hobbled, trying to throw the weight off his foot, so he kicked him instead. "That's my baby girl, Norman! I'm not letting some punk-ass kid take her away from me!"

Norman spat out dirt—or at least he hoped it was dirt. "Jake, she likes him! He's a nice guy!"

"Good for him. He can have my permission after I kick his ass!" With one last swing, he worked the protester off his leg and was back to storming.

"Jake, she's doing this for her clan!"

Finally, the father stopped, granting him his full attention.

"She and Syotxa'—that's his name—are willing to bring their clans together so the Omatikaya can have a place to live."

It took a moment for the parental anger to subside so his brain could function again. "Wait… She's doing this as an alliance?"

"That, and she feels it's the right path. The Omatikaya need a place to go, and soon. And Kiri thought, while staying in their village, that living with the Tawkami would benefit her people just like it did her. A few generations from now, after all the wounds have healed, they might even be ready to seek out a new Hometree."

"Kiri said that?"

"Yes, she did."

"What else did she say?"

"She said more, but that's between niece and uncle."

He scrunched his mouth. "Why are you getting this privilege all of a sudden—she's my daughter!"

"I won't be seeing her again. Might as well get in what I can now."

Jake gave himself all the time in the world to stand there making long, audible breaths. Finally, after the fourth head bob, the man regained his composure and straightened up with resolve. "Kiri's an adult now…and I feel like the last guy who got the memo. Even after I oversaw her rite of passage and everything…" His head rolled once again. "So, she's really going for this Syotxa' guy?"

"She wants to give herself a few years—until her training is over."

The patriarch contained an exasperated sound in his mouth. "Y-You bet it'll be a few years! She's still sixteen!" But the fire in his eyes weakened with defeat. "Course… I guess it's not my call to make anymore, is it?"

Norman put an arm around his friend's shoulder to shake some confidence back in. "Hey, Jake, think of it this way. She picked the olo'eyktan of the botanist clan. I mean, that's pretty good. You have no idea how good."

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, she does like plants."

"She sure does, Jake. She sure does."