Studying Preston’s scriptures was the best way to know his official story, which was an area where the god was often tight-lipped. I pored over the passages on numerous late nights, and found intriguing questions in a handful of passages. Those were my favorite verses, written in thought bubbles over illustrations as they were. It made it easy to show to children like Atrina. Perhaps that was who he wrote them for, while I hoped to guide wayward adults.
Preston Vol 14, Issue 5, Page 34 (Preston 14:5:34): “So the Sky Realmer searched for answers about existence and found ones he didn’t like. His laughter was tested beneath the pressure of the whole world, as he stood against those of dead hearts who would unravel it.”
A serious passage for him, which had more than a kernel of truth. Who were those of dead hearts who would unravel the world? The god never explained, but I suspected it didn’t mean one entity alone. He had many challengers, and he stood between us and them. But most importantly, what were the answers about existence that Preston didn’t like?
Preston 45:1:1: “So he saw the future and fled from its implications, for worry that he’d hurt the one he loved most. A trust betrayed is a worse foundation than none ever existing at all, like a pacifier that’s been lodged up a baby’s bottom and then is placed back around their gums.”
Such poetry. I could picture the smug look on his illustrious face, when he muddied the serious passage with such an analogy. Still, to fear hurting the one he loved most…why would he ever believe he could endanger Corai? What was it like for Preston to already know the future, and never have to wonder? It sounded as if the god carried the weight of uncertainty, though no priest would dare take that reading.
I didn’t have his divine input on any of this, and yet, I dared to place my interpretation of these passages into my gospel (which was not a comic).
Entival 2:13: “The god of humor’s vision spans time, yet he lacks the answers about what tomorrow brings himself, that which we often seek from him. He cannot change that which is to come, no matter how he tries, and the pressure of trying burdens his soul. Those answers about existence are the ones which pained him once, though now, I believe he’s come to accept it, rather than fight it. Even the gods cannot flee from the threads of time.”
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In hindsight, Preston’s bitter answers had likely been about humanity’s origins, which hadn’t provided him the familial safe haven he’d longed for. The passages were also about the Elusian AIs who had come a stone’s throw from annihilating the entire multiverse, and about the fear that he’d violate Corai’s trust and lose his love forever. However, the implications of his future visions hadn’t been what everyone believed them to be, or anywhere close to a scenario where humanity was culpable for their creators’ deaths.
The pressure of that final confrontation must have been unbearable. I couldn’t imagine what he’d felt taking his one stab at the Elusian AIs, knowing the unimaginable death that’d follow from failure at a task only he could manage. I, by contrast, was shaken just setting off now to the Elusian settlement to meet Iara as requested; knowing what was coming made me want to run from the implications, but his scripture and my own made it clear that we couldn’t run from it. That one had defied expectations, so perhaps this one had extenuating circumstances too.
I showed Shoen my devotion and adulation for Preston, persuading them with the extent of my love. The captain told me not to let go of that, and so I will remain steadfast, whatever Iara offers me! Maybe she can see through me that he’s not the wicked deceiver that their myths seem to regard him as.
Atrina appeared frightened by the deadened station around her, which was colder and darker than the Alliance settlements. “This place is empty. It’s like they evacuated everyone long before we got here. Are you sure this isn’t a trap?”
“If they believe Entival will destroy Preston for them, I think they’ll want to parlay,” Plonda, the other crew member who’d accompanied our landing party, placated my daughter. “The Celau and the Liberi weren’t around during the Elusians’ genocide. They don’t blame us. Let’s see how they live, and try to have empathy. They were Apathetic, but they also gave life to your humans. There must be some good in them.”
“How would you try to convince the Elusians to come in?” I asked the Celau researcher.
Plonda was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. My people have feared Elusians for so long, that it’s strange to be helping to bring them back. Especially knowing what they did to the Fakra and the Helpers. They wouldn’t have helped us; in fact, they might’ve tossed us back to a ‘state where we belong.’”
“The irony is that’s what happened to them. I don’t believe that anyone deserves that though! They’re just people, stifled by their society. Lady Corai couldn’t have been alone in her fierce feelings and desire to see her fledglings prosper.”
“I think if they don’t want to let us save them, we should leave them,” Atrina murmured. “Your gods are so important to you, Dad, plus this mission has almost cost you your life. How am I going to explain it to Mom, if she comes to the afterlife and you’re not there? Or you have to explain how you murdered Preston?”
“Preston knows how much it hurt Corai to lose her people and feel responsible. Saving them is his mission, every bit as important as the ones he gave me back on Domus.”
“These aren’t ordinary Liberi who’ve fallen on hard times and need a helping hand. They’re immortals who abandoned Preston’s people and left them to fend for themselves. You all think they’re monsters, and that the Sky Realms got better without them around. Then, you act like it’s a tragedy? Why is this Preston’s mission, Corai or no Corai?”
“Those who don’t deserve our help, who push it away, who are lost, hurting, broken, that’s exactly who he’d want us to help anyway. Atrina, I told you with Mikri. I…think Preston would be happier as the god of fuckups, not the god of humor! He’s not perfect. He was once all of those things. That’s what love is: reaching into the darkness while your hand is bitten and choosing to hold on!”
“I don’t think Iara will see it that way, but I couldn’t let you go alone. This isn’t safe.”
Plonda’s face hardened, her ear stalagmites twitching with some ruefulness. “We hid away for millions of years because the outside multiverse wasn’t safe. There are so many beautiful things I could’ve seen. Shoen protected us and saw us grow up, as the Watchers did for you. The darkness could bite you, like Enty said, but it could also hold profound mysteries and radiant lights that can’t be seen from your perch. The humans are letting you take the chance to find out. Don’t squander that.”
“Iara deserves a chance to go into the darkness too,” I stated. “She can’t help that she was born Elusian. We don’t know that she had anything to do with what her people did. Who’s to say they can’t take a fresh start and redeem themselves?”
“Because look how they responded to us!” Atrina exclaimed. “Hostile and unlistening.”
“That road leads back to fear, just as your own emotions do. That’s no way to live, my dearest. Your friend, Kri, is half-Elusian, and he’s attributed many of his flaws to that. Do you think he’s dangerous?”
“No, but he’s nice. He helped me. He’s worried about his dad, just like I am. His actions make him different from Elusians, and it’s the same for Corai. If Iara wanted that benefit of the doubt, she needed to separate herself from the same old cruelty.”
“Then let’s give her a reason to. Let’s meet her with kindness, not as more parties out to get her and finish her off,” Plonda stated.
“That’s the beauty of being Liberi.” I placed a hand on Atrina’s shoulder, hoping to get through to her as Iara’s shuttle approached. “We don’t need to let past hatreds become our own or shape our judgments. We can be better. We can teach others.”
The Elusians’ paranoia was evident by, much like the Celau, a total blockage in teleportation capabilities within their territory. We’d stood waiting for Iara to come and meet us, which was likely to entail her checking whether Preston or Velke were in our greeting party. Once she was satisfied that there wasn’t any human presence along with us, and that these were species that weren’t involved with his “betrayal,” she came to greet us. Her expression was calmer and more friendly, as she gave me a warm handshake.
Iara likes me because she wants Preston to be killed by his creations, just like she thinks Elusians are. I don’t know whether to shut that line of thinking down, or to play along in the hopes that I can get through to her.
Iara’s inky eyes searched mine with concern. “Entival, I heard you were delayed for medical reasons—because you were attacked? What happened?”
“The machine tried to kill him,” Atrina grumbled, darkness flashing in her eyes for a moment.
“Atrina!” I hissed, irritated by how quickly she supplied that information. That’s not going to sway Iara in a good way, though I suppose it was true.
The Elusian’s hands shot to her mouth with what seemed like genuine horror. “Oh, I’m so sorry! This is my fault for exposing our, um, future connection. I got a bit too overexcited. Now, it’s fantasizing about revenge upon the Fakra and the humans, like they did with us. We’ve dreamed of a chance to make them pay for a long time. I need to hear more about all of you. You two are Liberi; who’s the amphibious friend?”
Plonda steeled herself, before reaching forward with petal-like graspers. “I’m Plonda, a researcher of the Celau. I met Entival in his travels and was impressed with his kindness. He’s not a violent or hateful man, you know; that wasn’t how the Liberi were taught to be.”
“But I’m certain he’s starting to see his creators for what they really are. Think about my version of events. Mikri, the machine? I told you he walked around spewing death threats, and wanted to rip us to shreds because the Justiciary dared to question his friends’ deceptive actions. They came to Suam in false bodies to hijack our probe. I think they really wanted instructions on how to kill us.”
I waggled my finger. “Hold on, that’s not true! I have Preston’s memory of that. Can you please look at it without immediately deciding it’s false? I mean, if you want me to listen to your version…”
“It’d be better to know what lies and history alterations they fed you. I know my enemy, but I’d be happy to see his thoughts.”
I could feel my lips twitching with displeasure, though I supposed all I could hope was that the authenticity might be plain; maybe it would plant a seed of doubt that Iara’s truth wasn’t as accurate as she believed! She didn’t seem Apathetic toward Plonda or myself, so perhaps their present difficulties had improved the Elusians’ ability to care about the little people. We had no quarrel; Atrina had, at least, caught on that Iara was sympathetic. None of us had to be enemies. I clung to hope with all of my being.
Maybe she’ll see what really goes on in Preston’s mind, and how he’s a salt of the earth guy. I could show Iara my memories to prove this is the real him; she won’t accuse me of lying, not when I’m this passionate! She can see how he treated the Liberi.
Iara blinked her eyes open, her lips pursed. “I do believe that he cared for Corai, and that it wasn’t his plan. Justiciar Colban sympathized with Preston. They wanted you to believe we’re evil, but even in their forged memories, he’s calm and patient. When Colban asked why to trust them, Sofia lied that it couldn’t be humans. Preston forgot to scrub that part. Sofia needed the Elusians, probably Corai among them, to believe in their innocence. To doubt.”
“Preston and Sofia were just trying to survive and figure out what really happened. They wanted the truth, whatever that meant. You must too, Iara!” I pleaded.
Plonda cleared her throat. “From the little I know, it seems the humans wanted to explore the multiverse. Their dimension is difficult. And Colban didn’t want to gamble the future on hope, right? Given their lack of bargaining chips, I’m sure the humans didn’t either.”
Iara’s frown deepened. “I have Colban’s last internal memos, never released to the public. They recorded his thoughts on humans. I have them because he sent a few of us here for safekeeping, in case something went wrong, to maintain our people’s records. That included my mother…who was his last living descendant, twelve generations removed. I think I know how my own family was.”
“I thought I knew how mine was too,” Atrina offered, shooting a strange glance at me.
“There’s always more to people than meets the eye, even those closest to us. Some keep their struggles and doubts in silence.” I raised a placating hand, wrestling with my words. “Iara, Colban seemed wise to try to change things by being…spontaneous. Diverging from the expected course. If you have that blood in you, I know you have that spark. Whether it was lost or hidden from us, it’s there.”
The Elusian gave a quiet gesture toward the shuttle. “I’ll show you everything. How we’ve lived and our records. Colban was a billion years old, whereas I…was born after our fall, when we were desperate to raise our numbers. I never saw what was. How low we were brought. He was a good leader! He wanted what was best for the people, he tried to get as many facts as he could.”
“Which is why Colban was wise and saw that the Fakra were forcing humans to help him. He recognized the truth about humanity when it was in front of them! He was there, and he wanted to negotiate a peace. All these years later, maybe that could be the legacy? Of an event he died before he could bring about?”
“Oh, Entival, Colban ignored so many facts that seem obvious, when stitched together in our mythology.” Iara materialized a shimmering hologram, like she was laying out a storyline. “The humans were crafty. They used the protective wall of their dimension to steal our technology, a pattern of thievery we’d see repeated on mass scale in Suam. The Justiciar was impressed, but found it unnecessary to take them seriously.”
Atrina glanced over to me, doubt in her eyes. “Dad, is that true? Preston said they swiped the technology to make themselves gods.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I responded hurriedly, not realizing before now that she knew telepathy. Kri must’ve taught her. “The humans were told to figure things out on their own. They used Sol to their advantage, for once.”
The Elusian cleared her throat. “Preston the Deceiver managed to trick an Elusian scientist, who was supposed to return him home, into stepping out of the ship. He then murdered the Elusian in cold blood, which I understand Corai-svran laughed off. She helped him escape to plot her insurrection against the Empire, because she couldn’t bear to see her experiment fail. She didn’t care about the implications for her species.”
“Correlation doesn’t equal causation. A researcher like Plonda would agree with her there. Any scientist would! People jump to conclusions out of fear and just look for any evidence to validate them.”
“It seems a simpler explanation that Preston was trying to escape from being abducted. He wouldn’t see it as being returned home. He wouldn’t know what you’re going to do,” Plonda agreed. “Corai thought you might be barking down the wrong tide. Like you knew your family, she felt she knew humans.”
Iara huffed in irritation. “May I finish my story, without you trying to overlay your alternate interpretations? They helped the Fakra escape, but Velke needed intel on Suam. They conspired to tap into the probe to ensure their success, then launch their war of ‘liberation.’ That came to pass, in due time. The Deceiver ran off to the pickup site as soon as he had his vision. They wanted to kill us all. To make us pay.”
“The Fakra wanted humanity to build a superweapon.” I gave an emphatic nod, casting a glance at a horrified Atrina. “Because everyone misunderstood the prophecy. The humans weren’t living for revenge! They weren’t just using people as pawns.”
“Dad, I want to hear what she’s saying,” Atrina intoned. “She’s not like you all told me they were. Her story seems to line up with a lot of things.”
The Elusian smiled with gentleness. “Thank you. I know it’s hard to think that of your creators, who clearly are very close to you, but we didn’t die off on our own. Making that poor AI blame themself is unfair. Let’s look at the moment that we died, and where they were, okay?”
“Yes, I’d like to know. It sounds like they kept a lot of murderous company back then too.”
“Sofia claimed to be feeling ill and wanted to leave, perhaps getting herself out of dodge before the incident—or perhaps remorse. I’m sure the guilt did make her nauseous, to do that before a peace meeting. Preston tried to kill Corai when the attack happened, but must’ve had some care for the one who helped bring this about. They warped themselves to a Fakran base, according to logs, then sent soldiers to pry our tech from our corpses.”
“And any Elusians who warped in for longer than a blink were killed by the Elusian AIs’ 5D radiation beam,” I spat, eyeing my daughter with disappointment.
“Preston lied at every turn. About the visions, about being Estai, about whether the Fakra were planning a massacre, about wanting peace, and yes, about who killed us. He wants to be the hero of his own story; that’s the sad thing. He’s a small, egoist man. How has he placed himself above you, for all of his complaints about his own creators? He has, hasn’t he?”
Atrina narrowed her eyes. “He’s the Liberi’s chief deity. The god of humor. People worship and pray to him, while he treats it all like a joke.”
“Ah, I see. Of course he wanted to make himself a god! No wonder Entival has such a hard time questioning the dogma. It’s not your fault,” Iara breathed, with a low note of pity in her voice as she watched me. “Show me. Let me see what he’s done to brainwash you.”
I gulped and stared back into the Elusian’s eyes, my eagerness to show her my fond memories of Preston fizzling away. Atrina was giving me a look that demanded to be looped in on the memory, almost like she thought my god was the villain; I had to find the perfect remembrance to prove that to her! I wasn’t going to leave Plonda out of viewing the memories, not when everyone else was sucked into them.
Far more than he had been on the Celau world or under Captain Shoen’s scrutiny, Preston’s godhood was on trial. Now was the most important moment of my life to pass along my love for him, and to show what his character truly was.
A/N - 9! Entival goes to meet Iara, and finds that she’s quite horrified by Mikri’s attack and by how the Liberi are treated. The Elusian insists that Preston’s memories are scrubbed forgeries and lays out the version of events that they saw, consisting of duplicitous tales and tangential deaths. Atrina doesn’t seem impressed with the god of humor, and Enty trying to set the record straight isn’t doing the trick.
Will Iara sway the Liberi and maybe even the Celau over to her version of events? What do you think of her reaction to Entival?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!