She was gone.
Ivan held his silence for quite a long time, and I did not interrupt it. When he finally spoke, his tone was heavy, filled with regret.
“The planet dissolved, and I could do nothing.” Ivan stared at the table, an expression of grief consuming his features. “It was over so quickly, but I remember each second as a lifetime. I didn’t even notice the other ship until after it was over. Then, like a fool, I ran.”
The Cassander: I remembered the images taken by the vessel’s sensors and locked away in its archives. The voice they recorded from the planetary transmission wasn’t a scream of anger. It was a cry of sorrow.
“Do you know how or why it happened?” I asked.
Ivan shook his head. “No one does. The only person, people, who knew about it were Olga and her team. The records, her brilliance, her grace and beauty… all destroyed.”
One incident: one misinterpretation of a woman crying out a name, and Ivan became the terror of a galaxy. His entire story came as a surprise, and for once I possessed no idea of how to interpret or categorize it. Every piece of my search, everything related to this one moment, the pinnacle of Ivan’s fame. “It wasn’t your fault.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, and a part of me was surprised by my expression of sympathy.
Ivan looked up, eyes red and watery. “Yes, I know. Even had I come out of orbit and tried a rescue, I only would have gotten myself killed alongside her.” He gave a choked laugh. “Had I been on the world already, I couldn’t have torn her away from it anyways. The problem burst into crisis and catastrophe not slowly but all at once. From then, it was over in minutes.”
It was difficult to believe; this was all there was to the amazing, legendary Ivan. With his catalogue of deeds laid bare, the one thing which granted him fame was not even remotely of his doing.
I decided there was nothing to be gained by bothering Ivan any further. This long search of mine was concluded, and Ivan would not be able to provide me, Galactic Central, or any corporation with the data they sought. His fame, his legend, was the product of a massive, terrible misunderstanding.
Every flicker of sadness, punctuated by the quiet despair I saw in his eyes at the end of his story, was a brief and terrible reminder of his departed wife. Every time he heard his name mentioned as a product of myth, Olga had to have been the only thing he could think of.
“I’m sorry,” I said, again surprised by the sympathy. The emotional malfunction continued to flail around, and Ivan’s tragic story did little to ease it.
Ivan gave a sad smile. “It would seem your long search ends in disappointment. I fear I have nothing to give to you or your employers. No information: no bundle of impressive technology.”
Hesitating for a moment of consideration, I shook my head. “Not at all,” I said. “My task was to find you and the truth behind the endless parade of stories.” I swept a gesture at Ivan. “Daedra-Tech will be disappointed to see no concrete advantage to my success. However, both professionally and as a matter of my own personal curiosity, I’m more than satisfied with the conclusion.” This was the utter truth. My obsession was fulfilled; I had succeeded. The end result may have been unexpected, but the accomplishment was no less grand in my mind.
“I am very glad to have been of assistance,” Ivan said with a slight bow.
Nodding, I stood. “It’s time I departed, though your security officer probably doesn’t realize the coordinates to this place are embedded within my memory. Erasing them from Minerva won’t do too much.”
Ivan laughed. “You better not mention it to him, or he will try very hard to make sure you don’t leave.”
“You’re not concerned about me returning or revealing your secret here?”
“Hmmm, not so much, no.” Ivan shrugged. “There is no advantage or profit for you that I can see, assuming your employer and others believe it as well. Even more,” he paused, appraising me, “I see you as a good man, Archivist Sid. Even if there was a small amount for you to gain from doing so, I don’t believe you would betray our trust.”
Though I couldn’t be entirely certain without proper circumstances, I suspected he was right, and it was yet another odd realization which didn’t even seem motivated by my tumultuous emotional state. I realized I liked Ivan and further I discovered I didn’t want to see anything terrible happen to him.
We stood and moved over to the door, which opened upon approach. The stern features of the acting governor glared at me from outside. “Are you finished?” Bethel asked.
Ignoring the question, I turned back to Ivan and extended a hand. “It has been a great pleasure to have sought, found, and spoken to you, Afanasi Sergeyevich Lukyanov.”
The enormous man tossed back his head and laughed. He threw his massive arms around me in a crushing, one-sided hug. “Oh, my good and dear friend. Call me Ivan!”
Chapter 14: Demise
Ivan’s tale continued to weigh heavily upon my mind as I went through the motions of wrapping up the long search.
I hardly paid attention when Minerva slid out of the asteroid field and away into the night. The long flight to the Daedra-Tech research station, a monstrosity of engineering near the core, passed in the blink of an eye. My meeting with the Senior Manager of the company was a shambling affair of anger and yelling on his part.
Even as I provided proof by displaying vids recorded with my prosthetic eye, the Senior Manager remained upset. Disappointed, the company was, by the end result. Even so, they abandoned the avenue of inquiry and agreed, upon my recommendation, to leave Ivan and Vapaus Colony alone. Ivan was correct; there was no profit to be had in disturbing them.
After receiving my payment, I was sent on my way pending any new assignments, and my pondering did not cease. My next stop was the Cassander and efforts to mitigate the charges of state secret theft among other things. Daedra managed to smooth things over and handle the trickier pieces even before I’d even met with Ivan, so dealing with Captain Onnels once the job was finished became a formality.
He was upstart, arrogant, and I only listened to a few pieces of what he had to say. Since I was a victim during the incident at Dei Lucrii XVII as much as the station itself, he focused his efforts on asking questions about Cain. It appeared my aggressive Archivist brother had overplayed his hand.
Onnels didn’t even mention my murder of Dana, and the vestige of her in my thoughts almost seemed sullen because of it. However, as Archivists, our natural and murderous reaction to one another is well enough known for certain leeway to be granted. At least, it is when we direct aggression only to each other.
Assaulting an entire station full of civilians was not quite as forgivable, and the GSA was digging to find out who hired Cain and why. I was glad to hear it; if Cain would be on the run, my life could calm somewhat.
Even with Onnels’ good news, I could not shake Ivan’s tale from my thoughts. Never before had I clung to any assignment, and I still held no disappointment regarding the results. The discovery of Ivan and the truth behind his tale provided exhilaration beyond measure; it became my greatest achievement as an Archivist. Yet, something about it, some emotional reaction I remained unable to comprehend kept my mind preoccupied.
Even with a galaxy filled with people, entertainment of all shapes and sizes, and uncountable sights to see, I had nothing to do but think. Part of me wished for a new assignment, something to take my mind away from this
