The Gift Issue 7

Athan lay on his bed, listless. A myriad of thoughts raced in his head. It was nearly 1 o’clock in the afternoon now, only a couple of hours since Arik delivered the terrible news. Time was his enemy now. Athan was a prisoner of the daylight, festooned to the night hours to conduct his unlawful business.

As he lay in half-sleep, Athan imagined what torments his niece must have gone through and he wept at the thought of them. He’d seen first hand the disgusting parade of carnage left behind by these twisted, torturous creatures of Semai. They used cruel devices, which inflicted excruciating pain in ways the human mind could not fathom--unless experienced first hand. Athan lived through just such an experience. His body bore the scars to prove it. Yet his past was his to keep and he shared this information with very few.

Athan drifted back and forth from restless sleep to restless consciousness. He looked at the clock again; it was only 1:30 p.m. When will this damnable day end?!

He rose from his bed and walked into the living room to drown his sleeplessness in the television. After surfing the channels for a few minutes, Athan settled on a nature documentary about the rare forms of plant life on Venus and the dangers they present to mankind. It was truly dull, and the narrator’s monotonous voice was enough to lull any wide-eyed, five-year-old into a stupor. But Athan still couldn’t sleep. After nearly an hour there came a knock at the door. Athan answered it. Jonah stepped in quickly and helped Athan close the door behind him. He looked slightly panicked.

Athan looked at him in surprise and asked, “Is there something wrong? Are you in trouble?”

“No. Well, not yet,” he replied.

“What do you mean?”

“I passed an inquisitor on the street, Brother Goran I think he was… anyway, I beat feet up here because I didn’t want him arbitrarily scanning my head and figuring out what I was doing.”

“What? You didn’t want him to know you were babysitting me?” Athan smiled wryly.

Jonah escorted Athan into the living room by the arm. He flopped a large duffel-bag onto the coffee table and said, “No you dolt… I didn’t want him to know I was bringing you this.”

Athan looked at Jonah. Who was panting heavily in-between his smile. He turned to the bag and slowly opened it. Athan was amazed by the contents. Inside the bag was his Mortificator armor, and weapons. His prized Mortis Blade and Nemesis pistol were neatly wrapped in his cape. His armor and helm were also wrapped in towels. Boxes of ammo and other necessities filled the side pockets of the bag. Athan was truly stunned.

“I don’t know what to say Jonah… I… I…”

“You could start with thank you. That’s always nice. Oh and you might want these as well.”

From a large pocket inside his trench coat, Jonah produced a half dozen Armor Piercing Grenades and from another pocket he withdrew an attachable grenade launcher modeled for a Nemesis pistol. Normally these extras were reserved for special missions. How Jonah got a hold of them was beyond Athan.

“How did you… I mean… why did you get these for me?”

“Athan, I’m not an idiot. I am pretty good at putting two and two together. I know what you’ve been doing. You secret is safe with me. I too know how it feels to lose a family.”

“Jonah… I can’t believe you did this… you could get in serious trouble if someone found out… and…”

“Not if you keep your mouth shut!”

Jonah smiled in his normal congenial way. Athan returned the smile. He was truly in awe of him. After looking over his stuff once more he glanced up at Jonah and said, “Thank you, friend.”

“My pleasure, Brother Athan.”

Jonah turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Athan rose from the couch and walked toward the bedroom to stash his ill-gotten goods. As he walked down the hallway he was suddenly struck dumb and blind. A throbbing sensation pulsating in his head caused him to reel and fall to his knees. The sensation was overwhelming and it made him nauseous. As he fought to get his bearings a distant, faint, and unintelligible voice was speaking into his mind. He tried to block the pain and the ringing in his head to hear the voice. The more he strained to listen, the sharper the pain became. Athan felt his body numbing slowly… from his hands and feet to the center of his torso—like an army of insects was crawling under his skin.

Complete vertigo overcame him and Athan felt like he was floating. As the floating sensation slowly took over, the throbbing pain subsided proportionally. While Athan remained numb and blind to the real world his mind’s eye was open to a different reality. Something had bridged space and time to speak to him. Now that the pain was gone, Athan was able to quiet himself mentally. Calling upon his telepathy lessons and the proper techniques he learned to receive a mental voice, he focused on the message. However, the voice remained confused, but the confusion was not Athan’s fault. The sender was confused. The sender of the message was in terrible pain. Athan could feel the fear and anguish in the voice even though he could not make out the words. He tried to speak out to his sender by sending his own message. “Quiet yourself… quiet your mind… release your fear…”

A single word came to him, like an echo down a long tunnel and its tone was like a question. The voice asked, “Uncle?”