Burden of Sisyphus

She shook her head.

“Do you know what those words mean?”

Keryn looked at the strange words again. “No, Sir, I don’t. I tried asking earlier this year, but I never got a good response.”

“The words are a passage from the Salisha. Shirath Esquideuz Pithyas mean No One Is Greater. Do you believe in a god, Keryn?”

She remembered the reliefs carved into the coral leading to the Shrine of Initiation. For many Wyndgaarts, the embodiment of the Voice was a higher power. They believed the Voice was cast into each unmolded child at the time of conception by a higher power, called only the Nameless One, that watched over every Wyndgaart when he went into battle. Keryn had never been one to accept spirituality, always finding true faith in science. Every battle consisted of a disciplined understanding of physics and trajectories, gravitational pulls, and elevation. To understand those left little room for religious superstitions.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, “but I don’t.”

“Then, perhaps, that’s your greatest weakness. Believing in no one but yourself means you don’t think there’s a higher power above you. Without a god by which the universe was created, it means you don’t believe in a god that lies at the center of reality. In that case, you must believe that you reside in the center, that you truly are the center of your own universe. I warn you, Keryn, that to believe such is folly and arrogance, neither of which have a place in the Alliance.”

He turned back to the script on the wall. “This passage should mean more to you than any of the other cadets. I’ve read that passage in the Salisha many times and have come to learn its meaning over time. The words have a twofold meaning.

“First, they mean simply, as one would expect, that no one individual is greater than God. The center of the universe can’t be shared between you and God. In time, you must realize it’s your place to subjugate yourself to a higher power.

“The other meaning I’ve gleaned comes straight from the passage’s use in history. Do you know why that phrase is so prominently displayed on the statue in front of the Academy?”

Keryn admitted she didn’t.

“During the first meeting of the newly formed Alliance Parliament, nearly 150 years ago, the Avalon representative was a great warrior and scholar named Etherius. His statue stands in the courtyard, welcoming students to this institute.

“That first meeting of Parliament was a madhouse. All races spoke simultaneously of the newly discovered threat of the Terran Empire. To the Alliance races, each knew it had unique strengths that would benefit the new army, and each had a reason why it should be the one to lead as the premier race in the new government.

“Irritated with their petty bickering, Etherius, a pious crusader, leaped upon the central table of Parliament and proudly brandished his spear, shouting the words, ‘Shirath Esquideuz Pithyas.’ The stunned Parliament fell silent to hear what he had to say. He told them its meaning was that no one was greater. To each race, he explained the strengths it offered to the Alliance and why each was vital. In the end, however, he also told them that without each other for support, they would fail individually.

“That’s the personal meaning of No One Is Greater and why I chose to apply it to this academy.

“You’re a great student, Keryn, but without the support of your fellow cadets, you’re destined to fail alone. Even if I can’t convince you to believe in a power greater than your own, at least take this meaning of Etherius’ words to heart. Find whatever strength you have within you to excel at the individual challenges you’ll face in the Academy, but never lose sight of the fact that eventually, you have to rely on those around you to succeed. Every pilot is part of a squadron or fleet. Even if you’re the best pilot in the Alliance, you’ll die without someone to support you.”

Dean Brothius stood. Keryn immediately stood and braced in a salute.

“Get some rest tonight, Keryn,” he said. “Remember always that tomorrow is a new day. When you come to the aerial joust tomorrow, I expect to see a changed woman, one who understands the importance of a team and friends. Also remember, you’re at the end of your rope. You have no more room for error within these walls.”

As he returned her salute, Keryn turned quickly and left. Walking from the office, she passed Victoria, who stared inquisitively at her. Keryn’s mind was a jumbled mess, as she walked back to her barracks room. Though eternally relieved at not being expelled, the dean’s words haunted her. Even more so, the story of Etherius haunted her. She saw him standing proudly atop the Parliament table, wings unfurled to catch the morning sun, as his strong voice filled the chamber. His message stayed with her, repeatedly echoing through her mind.

Shirath Esquideuz Pithyas. No one is greater.

As she undressed that night and climbed into bed, her mind continued spinning. Though sleep came quickly, her night was filled with strange dreams.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The door slammed loudly behind Vance, as he sealed the outpost’s entryway. Deep gloom enveloped him, broken only by meager twilight filtering through cracks in the nearby windows. Like the door, they were reinforced by whoever took refuge within the outpost. Though he felt safer inside, he knew no one was left alive within, which meant the building’s defenses had a weakness.

Behind him, the door heaved, as a Seque threw its weight against it. The metal latch held strong, but Vance was lifted from his feet with each shove. The remaining survivors watched him try to hold the door, shock clear on their features, as they remembered injuries, fleeing, and watching comrades die. Those soldiers needed a purpose, or they’d be content to sit down in the middle of the floor and wait to die.

“You two.” He looked at the two closest infantry. He didn’t know their names and feared he’d never have time before they joined the rest of their half-eaten friends. “Grab anything you can to reinforce this door. Put your weight against it if you have to, but make sure nothing comes through.”

As they held the door, Vance stepped away with a purpose and angrily approached Yen. Grabbing the edges of his body armor, he slammed Yen against the wall.

“Why’d you do it?” he shouted, his face inches from Yen’s. “Why’d you have to open that disk? You couldn’t keep your gods-be-damned curiosity in check for one mission!”

“What are you…?” Yen stopped when he saw Vance’s determination. His mouth slowly closed, but he matched Vance’s stare.

“You couldn’t have left well enough alone, could you?” Vance shouted.

“I think you need to settle down.” The air around Yen wavered slightly, as his power built.

Vance noticed and snarled, then began shaking Yen so violently, his determination-and the haze-vanished. “Don’t you dare try to use your powers on me, you bastard!” He shook him again.

A hand closed over Vance’s arm. When he turned, he was face-to-face with Eza.

“Let him go, Sir,” Eza said sternly. “We screwed up. I’ll be the first to admit it, but hurting Yen won’t change our situation.”

“Give it time,” Yen said breathlessly, his head aching from hitting the wall. “Halo will find a way out of here. She never let us down before.”

Vance stared at him, tears filling his eyes, as the weight of the loss settled on his shoulders. “She won’t save us this time,” he said quietly. “Captain Young killed her. She died just like we will, because you two opened that disk.”

Yen stared for a moment, then his eyes lowered in shame.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Eza said. “Why would the captain kill Halo?”

“He sold all of us out to the Terrans. Whatever was on that disk, we weren’t meant to see it. Because we did, the captain considers all of us expendable.”

His words hung heavy in the air between them.

“I think it’s time you told me what’s on that disk.” A threat lay under his words.

“Later, Sir,” Eza said.