Thessa Kai
Found
[member="Judah Dashiell"]
The new message indicator pulses against the fading blackness of the bedroom.
Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.
Eyes stir beneath closed lids and finally open. Scale-speckled hand gropes for the communicator unit. The pulsing stops. The incoming message registers itself in my mostly-conscious-state. I know it is coming. I thought I’d have more time. But there is no escape from this. Simple words that chill me beneath the knot of blankets:
‘You know what you have to lose. I need you. Now.’
Judah isn’t home. Makai is here. I check the chrono-clock. He is supposed to be home by now. Out of bed. Fingers still clutching the communicator unit. Fingers shaking. Body trembling. Clothes on. Hair back. One call.
“Makai? Grandma and Grandpa are coming over. Mommy has to go on a mission.” Kiss the tadpole. Hug the tadpole. Don’t cry in front of the tadpole.
Pulse. Pulse. Another message: ‘Hurry. I can take one away and you’ll still have something to lose.’
Pulse. Pulse.
There’s an incoming holophoto on the communicator unit: My husband. Judah. Arm in a sling. Cut up. Wilderness surrounds him. The man I fell in love with. The man I still love. The man in trouble. The man in pain.
Hug the tadpole. Smother the tadpole. Release the tadpole.
“But Mom. Mommy. Mom. Where are you going? I want to come!”
Stern face. Keep lips from trembling. Strong face. “On an important mission for Daddy. You have to stay here. Promise me you’ll stay here.”
Tug. Tug. Tug. Little hands on flight jacket ends. “But I don’t wanna.”
Strong face. Stern face. “Stay. Here.”
“No!”
“Up to your room right now.”
“NO!”
“I will tell your father and you will be grounded for the next month. No holopad. No choco-chews. No friends. No trips. Go to your room RIGHT NOW!”
Defiance. Face scrunched up. Face red. Face hot. Explosion. Explosion of tears. Small tears, big tears. Don’t wipe them away. His or mine.
#
Ship controls set. Crash webbing snug on shoulders. Space is cold. Space is a beast ready to devour. The maw of a battle ship opens. Sucks me in. Swallows me up.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The lizard-man wears stiff black boots that click on the industrial-plating of the bridge floor of the battle ship. Predatory-eyes stare at me. Gulp me up. Take me in. Always hungry. “I have another mission for you. Don’t forget what you can lose.”
“I never forget.”
The first time the lizard-man shows me a holophoto I am furious. It is a holophoto of Makai at school. I can stop it. I can fight it. I can protect them, protect my son. Protect my family. The second holophoto is of Judah at work and a woman who works an office over. I refuse to listen. I can protect them. I can protect my husband and protect my family. The woman in the holophoto commits ‘suicide’ the next day. I am trembling. By the third holophoto, I am resigned. It is an image taken inside our house at the dinner table. In our bedroom. In our bathroom. In our yard.
Click. Click. Click. “Good.” He smiles or leers. His tongue slips over jagged mountains of stained white. Always hungry. Always waiting.
“You could pick any pilot.”
His sneer widens. “But you’re the best.”
“And you have leverage.”
“I’ll always have leverage.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
#
The coordinates are in my navigation computer. I fly an approach to the village. No Name Village on a No Name Planet. Children, parents, mothers, murderers, pedophiles, prophets, priests, sisters, lusters, brothers, uncles, aunts, grandparents. They’re all down there. Ants on a pile. Bees in a hive. Rats in a maze.
Work. Work. Work. Move. Move. Move.
I fly low. I fly black. They don’t see me; they never do because I’m the best. It could be over in a nanosecond. Just one button push of springs, circuitry, and intelligence, and the payload will drop. The ants will scurry. The bees will fall. The rats will scream. I will want to join them in ash and heat.
But I can’t do it. I can’t press the button. The village for Makai and Judah. Makai and Judah for the village. I hate the lizard-man. And I hate her. The name he let slip. The name he hinted as his employer. It made sense and it didn’t make sense. She was close. But there was no proof. Never proof. Just names and rumors. Selka Ventus. An old whiphid. Murder of a few no-name rogue jedi. But it lead back to that one name. The name lizard-man let slip. Or had planted. The one I could never trust. The one that would always be associated to lizard-man: [member="Danger Arceneau"].
I angle the ship controls down. Up is down and down is up. The holophoto of Makai and Judah is backlit on the orange-tinted canopy of the cockpit. My hands ache. I can stop it. I can fight it. I can protect them, protect my son. Protect my family. But I can’t save myself.
Up is down and down is up. Klaxons blare but sound faraway. The flash of light reflects off the surface of the shallow water, like moistened duracreet after a steamy-rain. I am empty. I am full. I am devoured. I am scared. They are free. In a nanosecond it’s over. His leverage is gone.
#
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Sir. The ship is gone. It made quite an explosion. Not much left. The village still stands.”
Reptilian-eyes narrowed. “Thessa Kai?”
“No one could’ve survived that.”
A hungry-smile spread over cold-lips. “Good. Silence the reports. Pay off the media. Send the letter to [member="Judah Dashiell"]. Nothing will point back to us. Just as planned.”
“Yes sir. And the village?”
“We’ll find another.”
The new message indicator pulses against the fading blackness of the bedroom.
Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.
Eyes stir beneath closed lids and finally open. Scale-speckled hand gropes for the communicator unit. The pulsing stops. The incoming message registers itself in my mostly-conscious-state. I know it is coming. I thought I’d have more time. But there is no escape from this. Simple words that chill me beneath the knot of blankets:
‘You know what you have to lose. I need you. Now.’
Judah isn’t home. Makai is here. I check the chrono-clock. He is supposed to be home by now. Out of bed. Fingers still clutching the communicator unit. Fingers shaking. Body trembling. Clothes on. Hair back. One call.
“Makai? Grandma and Grandpa are coming over. Mommy has to go on a mission.” Kiss the tadpole. Hug the tadpole. Don’t cry in front of the tadpole.
Pulse. Pulse. Another message: ‘Hurry. I can take one away and you’ll still have something to lose.’
Pulse. Pulse.
There’s an incoming holophoto on the communicator unit: My husband. Judah. Arm in a sling. Cut up. Wilderness surrounds him. The man I fell in love with. The man I still love. The man in trouble. The man in pain.
Hug the tadpole. Smother the tadpole. Release the tadpole.
“But Mom. Mommy. Mom. Where are you going? I want to come!”
Stern face. Keep lips from trembling. Strong face. “On an important mission for Daddy. You have to stay here. Promise me you’ll stay here.”
Tug. Tug. Tug. Little hands on flight jacket ends. “But I don’t wanna.”
Strong face. Stern face. “Stay. Here.”
“No!”
“Up to your room right now.”
“NO!”
“I will tell your father and you will be grounded for the next month. No holopad. No choco-chews. No friends. No trips. Go to your room RIGHT NOW!”
Defiance. Face scrunched up. Face red. Face hot. Explosion. Explosion of tears. Small tears, big tears. Don’t wipe them away. His or mine.
#
Ship controls set. Crash webbing snug on shoulders. Space is cold. Space is a beast ready to devour. The maw of a battle ship opens. Sucks me in. Swallows me up.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The lizard-man wears stiff black boots that click on the industrial-plating of the bridge floor of the battle ship. Predatory-eyes stare at me. Gulp me up. Take me in. Always hungry. “I have another mission for you. Don’t forget what you can lose.”
“I never forget.”
The first time the lizard-man shows me a holophoto I am furious. It is a holophoto of Makai at school. I can stop it. I can fight it. I can protect them, protect my son. Protect my family. The second holophoto is of Judah at work and a woman who works an office over. I refuse to listen. I can protect them. I can protect my husband and protect my family. The woman in the holophoto commits ‘suicide’ the next day. I am trembling. By the third holophoto, I am resigned. It is an image taken inside our house at the dinner table. In our bedroom. In our bathroom. In our yard.
Click. Click. Click. “Good.” He smiles or leers. His tongue slips over jagged mountains of stained white. Always hungry. Always waiting.
“You could pick any pilot.”
His sneer widens. “But you’re the best.”
“And you have leverage.”
“I’ll always have leverage.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
#
The coordinates are in my navigation computer. I fly an approach to the village. No Name Village on a No Name Planet. Children, parents, mothers, murderers, pedophiles, prophets, priests, sisters, lusters, brothers, uncles, aunts, grandparents. They’re all down there. Ants on a pile. Bees in a hive. Rats in a maze.
Work. Work. Work. Move. Move. Move.
I fly low. I fly black. They don’t see me; they never do because I’m the best. It could be over in a nanosecond. Just one button push of springs, circuitry, and intelligence, and the payload will drop. The ants will scurry. The bees will fall. The rats will scream. I will want to join them in ash and heat.
But I can’t do it. I can’t press the button. The village for Makai and Judah. Makai and Judah for the village. I hate the lizard-man. And I hate her. The name he let slip. The name he hinted as his employer. It made sense and it didn’t make sense. She was close. But there was no proof. Never proof. Just names and rumors. Selka Ventus. An old whiphid. Murder of a few no-name rogue jedi. But it lead back to that one name. The name lizard-man let slip. Or had planted. The one I could never trust. The one that would always be associated to lizard-man: [member="Danger Arceneau"].
I angle the ship controls down. Up is down and down is up. The holophoto of Makai and Judah is backlit on the orange-tinted canopy of the cockpit. My hands ache. I can stop it. I can fight it. I can protect them, protect my son. Protect my family. But I can’t save myself.
Up is down and down is up. Klaxons blare but sound faraway. The flash of light reflects off the surface of the shallow water, like moistened duracreet after a steamy-rain. I am empty. I am full. I am devoured. I am scared. They are free. In a nanosecond it’s over. His leverage is gone.
#
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Sir. The ship is gone. It made quite an explosion. Not much left. The village still stands.”
Reptilian-eyes narrowed. “Thessa Kai?”
“No one could’ve survived that.”
A hungry-smile spread over cold-lips. “Good. Silence the reports. Pay off the media. Send the letter to [member="Judah Dashiell"]. Nothing will point back to us. Just as planned.”
“Yes sir. And the village?”
“We’ll find another.”