The world adopted the panic.
That was the first thing Paul noticed. After everything Khael had told them, after the warning that the MJC could come for Earth before the war between the Rebellion and MJC had even ended, Paul had expected something louder.
Sirens, emergency broadcasts, military convoys moving through cities, people running. And that also happened. For first few months. But slowly the world simply became quieter. Not peaceful, but quiet.
The kind of quiet that came when millions of people were waiting for someone else to decide whether they were in danger.
Inside OPESTM, the change was easier to see. The command rooms were active at all hours now. Personnel rotated through longer shifts. The portal was monitored constantly. Satellite networks were being recalibrated. Military units received new instructions without being told exactly why.
Nobody used the word invasion. Not yet. But nobody needed to. The word existed in every room anyway.
Paul walked through one of the lower corridors shortly after midnight. Most of the lights were dimmed. He had spent the last hour training, although he wasn't entirely sure why.
His body was already exhausted but his mind wasn't. That was the problem. He passed a glass wall overlooking one of the training chambers. Inside, several Super Soldiers were still practicing.
Mpho was there. Nesar was arguing with him about something. Sally was sitting against the wall, apparently more interested in watching them argue than participating.
Paul stopped for a moment. Mpho noticed him through the glass. He raised a hand. Paul returned the gesture.
Then he continued walking. He didn't want to think about what Khael had said. He had spent enough time thinking about it already. The Ashveil was still somewhere in OPESTM.
Paul had not touched it since Khael left. He wasn't sure what bothered him more. The fact that the suit existed. Or the fact that a part of him understood why Khael had left it behind. Paul reached the upper observation deck.
The city stretched beyond the windows. There were fewer lights than usual in some areas. Not because the city had stopped functioning. Because people had started conserving. Preparing and most importantly, waiting.
Paul rested both hands against the railing.
-You always come here when you don't know what to do.
He didn't turn immediately. He recognized the voice.
-Veronica.
She walked toward him and stopped beside the railing.
-I wasn't aware you were keeping records.
-I am.
-Should I be worried?
-Probably.
Paul smiled faintly. She looked through the glass. For a while, neither of them said anything. It wasn't uncomfortable. That was still strange to him.
There had been a time when silence between them had been something heavy. Something filled with everything they refused to say. But now, it was simply silence. Veronica leaned against the railing.
-You haven't touched it.
Paul knew exactly what she meant.
-What?
-The suit Khael gave.
-I thought about it.
She turned toward him.
-And?
-I don't know what I'm supposed to feel when I look at it.
Veronica considered that.
-Maybe you're not supposed to feel anything.
Paul gave her a sideways glance.
-That's surprisingly philosophical.
-Don't get used to it.
He laughed quietly. Then his expression settled again.
-The problem isn't the suit.
-I know.
-Paul.
-I know.
She waited. He looked back toward the city.
-Khael gave me a choice that wasn't really a choice.
Veronica didn't interrupt.
-If I leave, maybe Earth survives. Maybe it doesn't. If I stay, maybe they come anyway. Maybe they don't. And somewhere in the middle of all that, there's this thing I'm apparently supposed to become because of who my great-grandfather was.
His voice remained calm. That almost made it worse.
-I spent most of my life thinking my biggest problem was figuring out what I was capable of. Now apparently I have to figure out what everyone else thinks I'm supposed to become.
Veronica looked at him.
-And what do you think you're supposed to become?
Paul smiled without humor.
-That's the problem.
He turned toward her.
-I don't think I've ever asked myself that.
She was quiet for a moment.
-Then maybe you should.
-I don't know how.
-You don't have to know immediately.
-That's easy for you to say.
-Maybe it is.
He looked at her, surprised by the admission. Veronica shrugged.
-I've spent a long time pretending I knew exactly what I wanted. Most of the time I was just choosing the thing that hurt less.
Paul's expression changed slightly. She noticed.
-Don't look at me like that.
-Like what?
-Like you've discovered I occasionally have depth.
-I was going to say something else.
-Sure you were.
He smiled. She smiled back. Then the smile faded naturally. There were some things humor could soften. Not everything.
-Do you remember when we first started talking about leaving all this behind?
Paul looked down.
-You mean before everything became complicated?
-It's always been complicated.
-That's true.
-I mean before we knew about the portal. Before MJC. Before Khael. Before we had to worry about whether another civilization had decided Earth was a problem.
Paul thought about it.
-I remember.
-What did you imagine?
He didn't answer immediately. That surprised her.
-You actually thought about it?
-More than once.
She looked at him.
-You never told me.
-I didn't know how.
-That's becoming a theme with you.
Paul let out a quiet laugh.
-You want to know what I imagined?
-Yes.
-I don't know if it's interesting.
-I didn't ask whether it was interesting.
He looked through the window again.
-I thought about somewhere small.
Veronica waited.
-Not a city?
-Definitely not a city.
-That sounds suspiciously like you.
-I thought you'd say that.
-Continue.
-A house. Nothing impressive. Maybe somewhere with enough land that I wouldn't see another building every time I looked outside.
Veronica smiled.
-You hate people that much?
-No. I just like having the option of not seeing them.
-That's somehow worse.
Paul laughed. Then he continued.
-I'd probably wake up early.
Veronica stared at him.
-You?
-I said I'd probably.
-That's not imaginable.
-You asked what I imagined.
-Right. Sorry.
-I'd make coffee.
-You don't make coffee.
-I could learn.
-You nearly broke the coffee machines multiple times.
Paul turned toward her.
-That story has been exaggerated.
-I was there.
-It was one time.
-You were making it on a "machine".
He shook his head.
-Hey! You're ruining the dream.
She smiled.
-I'm trying to make to realistic.
He looked at her for a moment.
-What about you?
She didn't answer immediately.
-I don't know.
-You don't have to make something up.
-I know.
She looked toward the city.
-I think I'd want somewhere warm.
-That's vague.
-I like vague.
-You really don't have an answer?
-I do.
She paused.
-I'm just not used to saying it out loud.
Paul waited.
-I think I'd want somewhere where nobody knows who I am.
He understood.
-You'd disappear?
-Not disappear.
She shook her head.
-Just be ordinary.
Paul looked at her.
-You think you'd like that?
-I think I'd like having the choice.
That sentence stayed between them. Paul didn't immediately respond. Neither did Veronica. Because they both understood that they weren't talking about houses anymore. They were talking about lives. The lives they had never really been allowed to imagine. Veronica folded her arms.
-You know what I hate?
-A long list, I assume.
She gave him a look.
-I'm serious.
-Ok tell me.
-Sometimes I think we spent so much time surviving that we forgot survival was supposed to lead somewhere.
Paul's expression became still. She continued.
-We kept telling ourselves we'd figure everything out later. After the next mission. After the next problem. After things calmed down.
She looked at him.
-Things never calm down.
Paul lowered his eyes.
-No.
-And now we're doing it again.
He looked back at her.
-What?
-Waiting.
She gestured toward the city.
-Everyone is waiting for the portal. Waiting for the MJC. Waiting for someone to tell us what happens next.
Her voice became quieter.
-And we're doing the same thing with our lives.
Paul didn't answer. Veronica didn't push him. That was something she had learned over the years. Some answers arrived only when you stopped demanding them. Eventually Paul spoke.
-What if there isn't a later?
She looked at him. He wasn't being dramatic. That was what made the question difficult.
-I don't mean because of the MJC, he continued. -I mean in general. What if we've spent all this time assuming there's going to be some perfect moment when we're finally allowed to start living, and that moment never comes?
Veronica looked down at her hands.
-Then maybe we stop waiting for it.
Paul stared at her. She met his eyes.
-I'm not saying we pretend nothing is happening. I'm not saying we ignore the danger. I'm saying maybe we stop treating our lives like they're something we're going to receive after the world becomes reasonable.
A faint smile appeared on her face.
-That would be asking a lot from the world.
Paul laughed.
-It has never been very cooperative.
-No.
She turned toward the window again.
-So if you ever get that little house of yours...
Paul smiled.
-You're already claiming it?
-I haven't decided whether I want it.
-You just described it.
-I described somewhere warm.
-That's practically a contract.
She shook her head.
-You're impossible.
-And yet you're still here.
She looked at him. This time, neither of them laughed. There it was. The thing neither had said. Not an apology. Not a confession. Not a promise.
Something quieter.
Something much more dangerous because it didn't need a name. Veronica looked away first.
-You should sleep.
-Probably.
-You have training tomorrow.
-So do you.
Neither moved. A few seconds passed. Then Veronica stepped away from the railing.
-Good night, Paul.
-Good night.
She walked several steps before stopping.
-Paul?
He turned. She looked as though she had almost forgotten what she wanted to say. Then she smiled.
-Try not to break the coffee machine.
Paul smiled back.
-No promises.
She left. Paul remained at the window. For the first time in months, the thought of tomorrow didn't feel like another problem waiting for him.
It felt like something he wanted to see.
Elsewhere in the building, De Nemo stood alone in the medical corridor. The lights above him reflected against the polished floor. He had just come from another examination. The doctor had given him the same answers as before.
His condition had not improved. It had not dramatically worsened either. For now, that was enough. He stopped outside a window overlooking the training grounds. Below, several Super Soldiers were still practicing. One of them missed a strike. Another laughed. Someone shouted something that De Nemo couldn't hear.
He watched them for a while. Then he noticed Sigurd, a normal super soldier walking across the field. The younger soldier stopped when he saw him.
-Sir, you're still here?
De Nemo glanced at the clock.
-So are you.
-Y..Yeah.
De Nemo smiled.
-Then I suppose we're both guilty.
Sigurd approached the window. For a moment they watched the others in silence.
-S-Sir?
-Hmm?
-What do we think? Can we stand against whatever will come through the portal?
De Nemo didn't answer immediately.
-I think people have been asking that question for six months.
-What is your answer?
-Time will tell.
De Nemo looked toward the dark portal facility in the distance.
-It's the only honest one I have.
Sigurd was quiet.
-What if we again fall short in front of them?
De Nemo turned toward him.
-This is not the concern. We'll do what we are supposed to do.
Sigurd looked at Nemo with a curious face. Nemo looked toward him, then again gestured toward the training ground
-Keep fighting.
Sigurd looked at him. Nemo continued.
-Fighting is about not always defeating the person in front of you. Sometimes it is about protecting someone…..
A pause
-Someone you love. Or the people who look up to you everyday…. everytime. And this is the moment when you realize fighting is about remembering why you can't afford to lose...
Another short pause
-Even if you know this is your end.
A short period of silence, then Nemo continued again.
-I, myself, lost one chance to protect my soldiers… my people. But if you ever get in any situation… never let yourself be in my shoes.
Sigurd absorbed the words. Then he nodded. De Nemo placed a hand on his shoulder.
-Go home, kid.
Sigurd gave an optimistic smile.
-Yes, Sir!
De Nemo smiled back. Sigurd went a few steps ahead, then looked back
-Aren't you going back to your home?
-Nah! I think I have a lot more fun to do here.
-Well, that's not fair.
Nemo smiled.
-Life rarely is.
Sigurd finally walked away. De Nemo remained by the window. He watched the soldiers continue training.
The next morning, Paul returned to the training floor. Veronica was already there. She was stretching near the edge of the room. She noticed him. Neither of them said anything at first. Then Paul walked past her. Veronica asked.
-You slept?
-A little. You?
-Enough.
He nodded. She smiled faintly.
-What?
-Nothing.
-That's suspicious.
-You look tired.
-You look worse.
-Thank you.
-You're welcome.
They walked toward the training area together. Neither mentioned the conversation from the night before. Neither needed to.
For now, there was a tomorrow. And for the first time in a long time, they had both quietly begun to imagine what they might do with it.
Outside, the portal remained open. And silent.
For another day.
-To be continued….