Jason’s gut wrenched. It was real. The incident, Darin’s memories. No tampering; only confirmation of alien contact. It wasn’t what he’d hoped to report back to Headquarters.
What in the stars are we going to do? He was careful to keep the thought to himself, maintaining a thin veil between his consciousness and the shared experience with Darin.
As he probed the memories, he found it increasingly difficult to maintain a tranquil demeanor. But, he needed to—not only as a point of professionalism, but because Darin was a scared young man who’d had his life ripped from him. It wasn’t fair to put him through any more grief, even if that meant downplaying the magnitude of his own experiences.
Unfortunately, the Andvari’s encounter was likely just the beginning. Jason couldn’t tell that to Darin. Instead, he needed to do something good to help balance out the tragedy. Maybe he could help the man move on with his life, however much was left of it to live.
“I can ease your pain,” Jason said in his mind. It wasn’t an official part of his assignment, but he felt it was the moral thing to do, under the circumstances.
“How?” Darin’s response wasn’t words so much as a cloud of skepticism in his scattered mind.
“By helping you remember the good and taking the sting out of the loss.”
Darin shook his head and sniffed. “I’m sick of feeling this way.”
“You don’t have to anymore. Let me help. It’s the least I can do.”
“Okay.”
Jason looked into his eyes. “Relax,” he spoke simultaneously out loud and in his mind.
Though he’d used the required techniques only on a couple of occasions, Jason understood the principles well enough. The basic process was to share the emotional burden of the memories—to take them in, filter, and feed them back. It was a mind-meld, of sorts. They’d practiced it as Junior Agents as a tool to cope with combat trauma. Not everyone could do it; the act took a great deal of raw telepathic ability as well as emotional fortitude. But when done successfully, the patient could get immediate relief with lasting results.
With Darin’s mind open and ready, Jason began the treatment. It wouldn’t be helpful in the long-term for Jason to bury the young man’s pain entirely, but he could help take the edge off of it. Carefully, he skimmed through Darin’s memories and pulled forward the fond memories of his mother and lost friends. With each memory brought to the forefront, the pain of the recent loss pushed back a little. As he pressed on, the tragedy of the loss lost its sharp edge, and instead Darin’s thoughts first went to the best moments of his times with his loved ones. The loss still left a hollow place in his heart, but it no longer was the initial, overwhelming feature of those relationships.
Jason worked through the layers of memory with Darin until his sense of tragic loss had diminished to a manageable state. When Jason finished, he retreated from Darin’s mind, maintaining a light touch to assess the other man’s state. He felt emotionally drained by it, but he would recover quickly. The benefit to the other man was well worth the temporary discomfort.
Darin remained on the bed, still and silent. After several seconds, he finally met Jason’s gaze. “It feels… different.”
“I’ve tried to help you remember what made your relationships special.”
“Yeah, I…” Darin faded out, his gaze going distant. A slight smile touched his lips. “I needed that reminder.”
“The way someone leaves us shouldn’t dictate how we think about them,” Jason said. “Just because they’re gone, the relationship doesn’t end. Their influence on your life will always remain.”
They sat in silence for several seconds.
“What happens now?” Darin asked at last.
“We have what we need from you for now. We’ll do what we can to help you find a way forward. As far as I’m concerned, you’re free to go.”
He looked down. “Thinking about that feels more doable now.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Have you ever lost someone? The way you were talking earlier seemed heartfelt.”
“I haven’t in the way you did, but we’ve been through some things as a family—enough that I’ve thought about how I’d react if I did lose someone. My military training has instilled the perspective that there’s always a way forward, even when the future seems too dismal to face.”
Darin nodded. “It must be nice, being a part of something bigger like that.”
“It is. The TSS is my extended family.”
“I guess I’ll need to find my own place to belong like that.”
“I hope you do.”
“Thank you for…” he shrugged, “whatever you want to call it. Helping me. I didn’t realize how much this whole mess had blinded me.”
“We all need a little help sometimes.”
“Yeah.” Darin swallowed hard and dropped his gaze.
Jason stood up. “Don’t let this loss define you. You still have a lot of life to live.”
Darin nodded slowly. “I wish I knew where to go from here. My entire life was on the Andvari.”
“There are lots of opportunities out there. DGE is hiring like crazy.”
“I’d always thought about joining the Guard.”
“Lots of good people do.”
“But that’s not where you see the real action, is it?”
Jason shrugged. “I’m no doubt biased on the matter, but I’d direct someone toward the TSS any day.”
Darin perked up a little. “Are you recruiting?”
“The TSS is always looking for dedicated people.” He paused. “I could put in a good word to get your application fast-tracked, if that would help.”
“You’d do that for me?”
If Darin was just
