Faraday offered a faint grin at that. “She is very protective of me,” he admitted. “And I of her.”
Loriana left to find Director Hilliard. While none of the other Nimbus agents had the fortitude to watch the dead burn, Director Hilliard hadn’t even attended the ceremony. It was unlike her.
Loriana found her sitting on the beach, far from the others, looking at the sea. There was no light but the flames of the distant pyre, and the wind kept shifting, making it impossible to ignore the smell of smoke. The moon was shining elsewhere in the world, leaving the horizon obscured by darkness. Loriana sat beside her and said nothing at first – because what was there to say that could make this any better? What the director needed right now was company, and no one else was willing to provide it.
“This is my fault,” Hilliard finally said.
“You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Loriana told her.
“I should have anticipated the danger,” she said. “And I should have turned us around the second the boat’s computers lost contact with the Thunderhead.”
“You made a judgment call,” Loriana said. “If I were you, I probably would have done the same.”
Still the director was not mollified. “Then you’re just as foolish as I am.”
And although Loriana often felt foolish – and the butt of other agents’ jokes – she wasn’t feeling that way anymore. In the midst of their current helplessness, she felt empowered. How very strange.
The night was warm, and the sea gentle and inviting. That did nothing to ease Audra Hilliard’s anguish. She had been responsible for many deaths in her time. It was hard to avoid when you’re the head of the Authority Interface. Accidents happened. Unsavories lost their temper during probational meetings, that sort of thing. But in each and every case, the deadish were revived.
This, however, was different. Audra Hilliard was not a scythe; she was not trained and groomed for the responsibility of ending life. Now she had a newfound respect for those strange robed specters – for to bear such a burden on a daily basis took an extraordinary individual. Either someone with no conscience at all, or someone with a conscience so deep and sturdy that its center could still hold in the face of light extinguished.
Audra had sent Loriana away, telling her she needed some time alone. Now she could hear the voices on the island behind her – everyone arguing and lamenting and trying to come to terms with their situation. She could smell the stench of the pyre, and she could see yet another body undulating in the waves, about to wash ashore. Of the 977 people she had convinced to make this journey, only 143 had survived. Yes, as Loriana had said, Audra had not known the extent of the danger. But she could not heft the blame on any shoulders but her own.
Her nanites fought a noble battle to lift her spirits, but they failed, for in this forlorn place, technology held little sway. Had they been anywhere else in the world, the Thunderhead, even in its silence, would have been a safety net, sending intervention to save her from this spiral.
But, as she had already noted, the night was warm, and the sea inviting…
So Audra Hilliard decided it was time to accept that invitation.
Director Hilliard’s body was never found. But everyone knew what had happened – because more than one person saw her walk into the ocean.
“Why didn’t you stop her?” Loriana demanded of a man who had witnessed it.
He just shrugged. “I thought she was going for a swim.”
Loriana was horrified by his stupidity. How could he be so naive? How could he not see the strain the poor woman was under? But then, taking one’s own life was something that simply never happened. Yes, people splatted and engaged in reckless behavior that left them deadish on a regular basis – but it was always with the clear understanding that it would be temporary. Only scythes self-gleaned. If this island had been within the Thunderhead’s sphere of influence, an ambudrone would have been dispatched the moment she drowned – for everywhere else in the world there were revival centers, even in the most remote places. She would have been spirited off for revival in a matter of minutes.
Was this what life was like in the mortal age? Feeling