Five more Observers departed the shuttle, each carrying a suitcase. A sixth – still draped in Chancellor business attire – held the boy’s hand. Benjamin couldn’t grasp the magnitude of it all: This many Observers for a golden-haired child who seemed barely outside the crib.
“His memory has been adjusted,” Tom said. “Play along, Benjamin. The child is eager to meet you.”
The escort brought the boy to the Sheridans. She kneeled at his side.
“Jamie, this is your family. Now that you have recovered, you can go home with them. Remember how we talked about your brother?” Jamie nodded, and the escort faced Benjamin. “Say hello to Jamie. You haven’t seen each other since he was a newborn. Yes?”
Benjamin caught his parents’ insistent eyes and knelt.
“Hello, little brother. I’m very happy to see you again.”
Jamie paused before sneaking in a smile.
“Miss Frances says you like to play games. Can we play games?”
“Sure, Jamie. We’ll play something the first chance we can. OK?”
Benjamin wanted to cry. They were doing the same thing to this little boy: Stripping away his identity, creating a lie suitable for a life in exile. Except Jamie did not have a clue about any of it.
His parents introduced themselves and hugged Jamie, acting as if they had not touched their son since his birth. The escort, an imperious woman with beautifully coiffed, sweeping red hair and wearing a jewel-incrusted floral sari, showed no emotion as the Sheridans prepared to walk away with this child. Yet Benjamin saw it in her features – the boy carried her eyes.
She was giving her son away and acted as if Jamie were no more than a commodity. The last thing she said before returning to her shuttle:
“We will see you in fifteen years. Complete your mission with fidelity.”
And then she was gone, not so much as a wave to the boy.
He wanted to resent the child, but no matter how much anger he tried to stir, Benjamin could not get past a simple realization:
He and Jamie were trapped. If he did not show any love for Jamie, who would?
Two hours later, he held his little brother’s hand as they crossed the Interdimensional Fold.
PART TWO INTO THE LIGHT
Son,
As you near the end of your life, you have many questions. However, you are too young to understand all the answers. You cannot comprehend the full nature of your role in the future. We can offer unto you the small comfort that everything about to pass is essential to the growth and vitality of the human race. It is this knowledge that convinced us, with much remorse, to send you on such a frightful path.
From the moment of your conception, you were loved. We knew you would be different, a new design, but we celebrated your unique and limitless potential. The brief time we spent with you filled our hearts with a joy unspeakable among our caste. However, we came to understand why you were brought into our lives, even if for a short while.
We hope the Mentor program has played these recorded thoughts and many more as you sleep, and they provide you with warmth and peace of mind. You are our greatest gift to humanity, and we miss you deeply.
With Fondest Regards,
Mother
Father
26
J AMIE DREAMED. He saw his mother tuck him into bed and kiss him on the forehead. She told him tomorrow was a new challenge, and a strong boy should be prepared for whatever life brought his way.
He watched her neatly arrange the bobbles on his nightstand and position the alarm clock so Jamie could reach it comfortably when it went off in the morning. He asked Mom whether she knew any goodnight prayers, because all the other children said their parents shared a prayer before sleep. But Mom said no, the Sheridan family wasn’t like others. We think for ourselves, she said. Jamie smiled and closed his eyes. She turned off the lamp.
Jamie saw her glide through the shadows and for a second, her silhouette occupied the doorway. She shut the door, leaving him surrounded in darkness.
Something was wrong.
He sensed cracks in the darkness, a wall between him and a dangerous unknown. Mom wasn’t who she said she was. She never loved him; she didn’t know how.
The truth chewed at his flesh and raced through his brain like a rat in a sewer. The pain extended through his chest, where tightness formed just above his heart, radiating outward into a burning, thrashing sensation. Jamie resisted the urge to cry.
He opened his eyes to the gray-blue of dawn and felt a breeze. An outboard engine roared behind him, and he held a pistol in his right hand. He saw splattered blood. Michael lay on the cushioned seat beside him, his chest still rising and falling slowly.
Jamie remembered each detail of the past four hours.
“All a lie,” he whispered.
He eyelids felt heavy, as if awakening from hours of deep sleep. The breeze hit him full-on, as Sammie was still piloting at open throttle over the glass-slick lake. They passed through clumps of fog, and the mist hung thick in the morning air. He turned to Michael, and reality overtook him. Even if they got his best friend to a hospital in time, the injuries must have been so massive, the blood loss so profound, his body moved around too much for him to have any real chance.
Jamie wondered whether he was sentencing his friend to a life of endless pain in hospitals or in a wheelchair. The
