STARDATE – ?????.?

Leenda Valda stands at the far side of the Elder’s quarters, staring up at the message scrawled on the wall. She must have read it one hundred times. It keeps bringing up the same questions that she cannot answer. She could use a different perspective on her ponderings. Some suggestions that might help her understand. Or someone to simply talk to about it all would be nice. Anyone but the Elder. The Elder had paced for a while. She now rests against the window, gazing out, becoming more agitated with each silent moment that passes.

‘Are you just going to gawk at that wall forevermore, or are you going to speak to me like a civilised Immaru being?’

Valda doesn’t blink, nor avert her gaze.

‘The least you could do is acknowledge me when I speak to you,’ the Elder tries, ‘I can’t stand much more of this. This treatment…this silence…this…silent treatment of yours!’

Silence.

The Elder huffs.

‘Suit yourself then! We’ll just rattle around in here for the rest of eternity never uttering another word to each other then! Is that what you want!?’

Valda studies the message, unperturbed.

‘Oh this is ridiculous,’ the Elder protests, and begins pacing the perimeter of the room again. She pauses when she reaches Valda, and stands by her side. She too looks up and carefully reads the message. She sighs.

‘As soon as Amity takes back control and gets this ship operational again, I’m going straight back on the sauce.’

Valda bursts out laughing. So does the Elder. They laugh, long and hard, until tears roll down their human cheeks. The Elder is surprised and dabs her own face with the back of her hand.

‘I’m…leaking…’ the Elder laughs.

Valda nods and laughs, wiping her own tears.

‘How…peculiar!’ the Elder cries, as her laughter fades.

‘They have so many unique little quirks,’ Valda smiles.

‘Do you know,’ the Elder realises, ‘I have to say, I really love to laugh as a human? It’s such an endearing experience.’

Valda nods.

‘If you get to know them, actually take the time, there is so much more to love about their species.’

‘You really are their number one fan, aren’t you?’

Valda beams.

‘I see it,’ the Elder admits, ‘the potential. Why else would we have been observing them for so long? Considering them for so long? The humans have achieved a lot. Particularly giving birth to Harold. And I know they could go on to do many more great things. But within that potential, is the potential to do terrible things too. We’ve seen it firsthand. The humans are capable of both extremes. Harold being their penultimate example. Their genius created the very thing that would wipe them out. And not for the first time. I’m not sure if getting involved in their affairs was the right thing for us to do after all.’

‘Why not? It’s what our righteous species does, isn’t it? Aiding and nurturing civilisations for centuries, that’s the slogan back on the homeworld, isn’t it? All those stories about our people’s plight, our bold journey across the universe in the pursuit of a new start, a better tomorrow, to forge new principles based on peace and compassion, et cetera, et cetera, to seek out new life, other civilisations, to aid and nurture, but maybe not every civilisation that we grace ourselves upon, maybe not all civilisations are equal, some are clearly less significant, some would say disposable, I mean, there may even be the odd occasion where we find ourselves in a little too deep over our heads with a particular species and we lose control of the situation and end up having to pull the plug on them completely, swept under the carpet, Immaru ambassadors and all! But no, we would never do a thing like that. We’re not extreme like the humans. Our species doesn’t do terrible things like the humans!’

The Elder stares at Valda, surprised and squinting.

‘You realise you are..?’ the Elder says, pointing out, with a wagging finger, that Valda is glowing brightly.

Valda takes a breath and her glow fades.

‘Tell me,’ Valda says, trying to remain calm, ‘if you had left, before I got out, and the decision was made to seal the chamber, with me in it alongside the humans and Harold…would you have let it happen?’

The Elder stares at the wall, and reads the same line over and over. The keepers have become the captives. Valda grows impatient for an answer and huffs.

‘I’ll take your silence as a yes.’

‘You’re taking this all too personally.’

‘How else am I supposed to take it? They’ve left me here to die!’

‘They have left me too. This is politics. It’s corrupt, it’s brutal, but it’s rarely personal. In politics, anyone is expendable. Everyone. We are all disposable players in the Hierarchy’s power games. And the Prime Elder is the ruthless overseer. See, this is not a time for woe, you should be celebrating. Consider your bubble officially popped. Welcome to your awakening. But don’t let it end here. Use your disillusionment, your anger. Use it to push back at them.’

Valda tries a cynical smile, but it doesn’t feel comfortable.

‘I fear it is too little too late,’ Valda shrugs. ‘How am I supposed to push back, trapped in here forevermore?’ she asks, waving her hand at the message.

‘Oh, I’m sure the Captain will succeed in…’

‘I’m not talking about this room, I’m talking about the chamber. We’re never getting out of here, are we?’

The Elder turns to Valda and gives her that sympathetic look again.

‘Dear oh dear. What happened to the bright and bubbly optimist?’

Valda sighs, glum. The Elder rolls her eyes and sighs too.

‘There…may be a way out,’ she states.

Valda perks up and awaits more.

There is a short moment of silence, and…

…anticipation.

‘Go on!’ Valda blurts.

The Elder sighs again.

‘You might as well continue on your journey of enlightenment. The…other time I spoke of, when an isolation chamber was sealed?

Valda nods, eager for more.

‘We were engaging in a first contact scenario with a species called Deludeans, a deeply spiritual race. Their belief system was limited. They believed that there were only organic beings in the universe, like them. They had never seen anything like us before. Beings of light. Our abilities. Eventually, they…through their teachings…they thought we were Gods. Maybe not their God, but God-like beings. Godly enough for them to start worshiping us. We tried to explain, of course, we are not Gods. But they thought we were testing their faith. Everything we tried just seemed to solidify their faith in us. We had a different Prime Elder at the time who had been enjoying a long string of successful first contacts. Upon learning that first contact with the Deludeans was bordering on failure, a decision was made to enlighten them further by pointing out the errors in their interpretations of their beliefs. This led them to believe that they had failed us, and a short time later, in a final ceremony of atonement, they committed mass suicide.’

Valda gasps.

‘Two thousand souls. Gone,’ the Elder says, gravely. ‘Of course, with the luxury of hindsight we realised that there was a massive oversight on our part. Mistakes were made. There was, clearly, not enough study and research done into their faith, their history. And now the Prime Elder and the Hierarchy had a disaster on their hands. A decision was made to seal the chamber. To bury the failure, the Deludeans, and a small group of our own people, but present it to the homeworld as another success. The Prime Elder’s winning streak, unbroken. You see, ambition can oftentimes bring out the worst in someone, and I was blinded by it back then. I was the Prime Elder. I made the decision to seal the chamber.’

Valda is shocked.

‘You?’ she whispers.

‘There is a certain responsibility that comes with being the Prime Elder. A responsibility to placate and paint a certain picture. A picture of progress and success. Our people need to feel that we have learned a great deal from our past mistakes. That we’ve grown, evolved. We’re not who we used to be. They also need to feel redemption. For the sacrifices we made when we left our origin home world. All those billions left to die. The guilt, the despair was insufferable. We knew we couldn’t reach a lower point in our history. That from that point, things could only get better for our species. And gradually they did. But the guilt lingers. So we push on, driven by it. Driven by a need for absolution. And for so long, we just kept growing, improving. One success after another. We thought we could do no wrong, nothing like the peccancy of our ancient past. We couldn’t let one mistake, one blight like the Deludeans, tarnish our impeccable vision of ourselves, our glorious pursuit of righteousness.’

Valda is stunned. She opens her mouth to comment. But nothing comes out. She shakes her head, gazing into space, lost in a cascade of thought. There is an odd ache in her chest. She reaches up and gently rubs her solar-plexus.

‘I think I now truly know what the humans mean by heartbroken,’ she says, softly.

‘My heart was broken, a long, long time ago, the heart of our very species was broken, a long, long time ago. We’ve been repairing it ever since. Who was I to tear it open again with another tragedy?’

‘You should have told the truth!’ Valda yells, ‘the Deludeans deserved that much. Our people deserved that much. How are we supposed to learn from our mistakes if they are covered up?’

The Elder raises her eyebrows and nods.

‘You’re right, of course. But it was too late. One of the Elder’s, an ambitious administrator under my command, had collected up and destroyed all evidence of the sorry affair. What I didn’t know is that the administrator had duplicated the evidence, and would later go on to blackmail me into stepping down as Prime Elder. Which, I did. And that administrator has been our Prime Elder ever since.’

‘Oh, it’s vile!’ Valda cries. ‘It’s despicable! To think I looked up to the Hierarchy, all this time. Put my trust in them. To think I wanted to become part of it, become an Elder. But having learned the truth, how could I ever…’

‘It doesn’t end there.’

‘Wonderful!’ Valda exclaims.

‘Guilt, and especially guilt on top of guilt can do one of two things. It can kill you, eat you up. Or, it can set you on a path of redemption. Sometime after the new Prime Elder took power, I petitioned the Hierarchy to launch a rescue mission. We could not save the Deludeans, of course, but we could save our own people. The petition was rejected. They claimed that once the isolation chamber had been sealed, it could not be reopened again. I began working with a talented engineer, a child, really, but, exceptionally bright, who came up with a device, something called a polaric generator, that could create a rift in subspace, essentially punching a hole through the chamber, allowing our people to escape. I took the device direct to the Prime Elder. Explained how we had created it and its use. The PE took it from me assuring me that it would be passed on to the Hierarchy and our top engineers, and expressed optimism that if it works, we would begin a rescue mission as soon as possible. A very short time later I learned that that the young engineer was killed in an unfortunate accident. Details of the cause of death were never revealed but we both know how difficult it is for one of our people to be killed, it must have been some accident. Of course, the device never resurfaced and there was no rescue mission. The Prime Elder buried it all, as I had buried the Deludean mission and our people. The bit that gets to me the most is that the young engineer was killed simply as a warning to me.’

Valda looks positively depressed.

‘You know,’ she says, flatly, ‘if the Captain does manage to return things to normal, I think I will join you in, whole-heartedly, going back on the sauce.’

‘So you see, it’s nothing personal. Anyone and everyone is expendable when it comes to the Hierarchy’s dangerous game of politics, and the Prime Elder’s belligerence and determination to cling to power.’

‘Well, it certainly feels personal,’ Valda says, glowing slightly. ‘I’m livid!’

‘As well you should be. Our people need to be made aware of the mistakes we’ve made. We need our people to be informed, so they can shape our civilisation and not be led by the worst of us. We need change. We need members of the Hierarchy who are principled and compassionate, not ruthless and ambitious. Or else, I fear that we won’t be the last victims to be swept under the carpet.‘

‘Hang on,’ Valda squints, ‘you said there may be a way out of here?’

‘Maybe.’

‘The equipment you asked for,’ Valda says, wide-eyed, ‘the communication device?’

The Elder tilts her head to one side.

‘Not exactly. You see, if I get the equipment I need, I think I can construct another polaric generator.’

Although she feels a glimmer of hope, Valda grimaces at the Elder.

‘Well, why lie to the humans about it? Why tell them you wish to construct a communication device instead?’

‘I didn’t want to get their hopes up to be dashed. I’m not completely confident I can recreate the device, or if it will work, to my knowledge it was never tested. And even if it does work I seriously doubt the humans would be able to escape through the rift. Only you and I can.’

Valda looks dubious.

‘I won’t leave them behind,’ she states.

‘Once we are free, we can work on releasing the humans.’

‘Is that another empty promise from the Hierarchy?’

The Elder sighs.

‘I didn’t have to tell you any of this, did I? But I opened up to you. Told you the truth. You will just have to trust me.’

‘Right now, I can honestly say I trust certain members of this crew more than anyone from my own people.’

There is a long silent pause as they both stare up at the message on the wall. Valda reads the last word, over and over.

Forevermore. Forevermore. Forevermore. Forevermore. Forevermore. For…

‘Okay, equipment,’ she says, turning to the Elder, ‘what exactly do you need?’