Broken (26 page)

"Will you take Ian there?" he asked.

"Ian? Oh, do you mean the boy? You named him? That’s a very sweet thing to do—no wonder you feel so strongly for him. Oh, yes, we’ll take him. We’re going to name him ‘Alexander.’ Do you think that’s presumptuous of us? I don’t. It makes sense, to those of us who can see the long view. He’ll be Alexander Peltan; the President will adopt him, naturally. But
we’ll
raise him.”

The thin man raised his eyebrows, grinning twitchily, toothily, at Michael. “You can help with that. See him every day. You’d be able to anticipate more than I what his day-to-day challenges would be, keep him on the proper track. The President’s other sons are… well, they’re really not
fit
, you see. Best that little Alex be in charge when he grows up, instead of them. Yes, certainly."

"He will be," Michael said gamely.

The thin man threw back his head and laughed. "Ah-
ha
-ha! Well! Oh, you still think you can manage it… but that possibility is almost gone. I’m sorry. It can't be easy for you to let it go; you were so obviously attached to it. So. You can really only do two things, right now, my boy. You can join us, or not."

Michael shivered, not wanting to look into the thin man’s eyes again. Not now.

"If—if I don’t join you?"

The thin man shrugged, the motion awkward and jerky. "Oh? Well. I don’t know.  I won't shoot you! But it won't be all that nice, either. You won’t be set free, even if you do join. Loyalty must be earned, I’m afraid. If you decide against it… even I can’t say what will happen to you. But they’ll never let you be a free man again. They might even kill you."

 Slowly, hesitantly, despairingly, Michael glanced into the thin man’s eyes.
A thousand possibilities unfolded. In each of them… Ian became Alexander. Alexander would rule the world. There was no hope.

 Michael’s heart sank. He closed his eyes and fell to his knees, defeated. It had all been for nothing.

 "Have you been looking into my future again?" the thin man asked gently. "You must have seen that there is no hope. I’m sorry, my son. Do you mind if I call you that? I have no children. You’re the closest thing there is on this world to someone who is like me… does that make sense? Don’t you feel it, too?"

Michael loathed the thin man. He had despised him since he first saw him in a vision when he was just a little boy.

But he
did
understand. He and Joe had been inseparable, because Joe understood. Joe was like him.

"I had someone, once," Michael whispered. "His name was Joe. He was like me. He wasn’t my father… not really. I said he was my grandfather, but he wasn’t. He was just an old man who saw the same things I did, in the same way… He took me in after my parents died." He risked another glance at the thin man. "So yes. I do understand. When he died… it was like a part of me had passed away, too. Didn’t you have anyone like that?"

The thin man shook his head in sorrow. "No. Never. I always had to find my own way. My son… you were lucky to have your Joe. I'm sorry he left you alone. But now there’s another way, another chance for you to be with people who understand. Yes? You can join us."

Michael shook his head. "No."

The thin man pursed his lips. "It isn’t as bad as you think it’s going to be. It won’t be, if you join us. You’re the key, really. You could live, be happy, and make a contribution to humanity."

 
"Don’t trust easy answers," Joe had said.

"You must accept what is, though," the thin man said.

"A man doesn’t stop because he’s afraid," Joe had said.

"Will you join us?"

"All men want to live in freedom," Joe had said. "It gives them hope to control their destiny, even just a little. You can hope the future will be better than today. We need that. Don’t lose your hope, Michael…"

Michael just stared at him.

The thin man’s face took on a thoughtful expression. "Maybe it’s easier to show you. Sometimes I do this for President Peltan. I don’t think you can do it, so it’ll be a little bit of a shock, my son."

He reached for Michael.

As soon as his finger touched Michael’s hand, the world changed.

[CHAPTER 25]

-FUTURES-

M
ichael stood in a musty, peaceful wood-paneled room. The thin man appeared next to him, holding his hand. "Ah. This is the palace we’re going to build. Isn't it something? We'll import the wood from Earth. We’re on Calvasna now. And look. There he comes."

A young man, maybe in his mid-twenties, smartly dressed in a black military uniform entered and sat at the table in the center of the room. Ian. Michael knew him instantly—he had seen him so many times before in so many futures. Several advisors and other men entered after him and sat on the opposite side of the table. One of the advisors, he realized with a shock, was himself. Older, and grown a little fatter, but definitely still Michael Forward.

He had never seen this future when he looked in the mirror. How was that possible?

"Mr. President," one began, "The transition is a little rocky so far. There are elements in the Party who are still very loyal to President Peltan… we have moved close to many of their leaders. Just give the word."

Alexander/Ian considered. "Why should we let them live?" he asked. His voice was cold and hard. "We need to send a message."

"Perhaps," the older Michael said evenly. "But perhaps a better message would be to let them live. To round them up, but then show mercy."

 Alexander/Ian seemed to consider this.

"Perhaps," he finally admitted.

 Michael nodded. "Life is worth a lot, but not everything."

* * *

 Time froze. Everyone stopped in place.

The thin man leaned down to whisper in Michael’s ear. "In the end, he only kills about a third of them. Some of the rest of his enemies become his greatest servants. Without you there… it’s much worse. Most die. By being there, you save lives!"

* * *

The scene shifted. The same room—maybe a little dimmer. Alexander/Ian still sat at the head of the table, wearing a far crueler expression.

 "Mr. President," the same adviser began, "The transition is a little rocky so far. There are elements in the Party who are still very loyal to President Peltan… we have moved close to many of their leaders. Just give the word."

 Alexander—Michael couldn't think of him as Ian now, not like this—nodded sharply. "I can think of no reason to keep them alive." No one else said a word. "Do what you must. Purge them, so we can move forward."

* * *

"This," said the thin man grandly as time froze again, "Is your impact. A better Alexander. A better man. He’ll crush his enemies. He’ll kill many, yes. But far fewer with you to guide him. He is more… humane? See here…"

* * *

The scene shifted entirely. A garden path. Alexander, younger here, spied several women strolling along, laughing and talking, and walked up to them, grinning like a wolf. "Ladies."

They shrank back, afraid. He pointed at one. "You. Come with me. Now."

She burst into tears. "Please… please…"

He grabbed her and shoved her out ahead of him. "The rest of you… later. I’ll send guards."

Two men dressed in pristine white Army uniforms advanced. They froze before they reached the women.

* * *

"You don’t want to see the rest. That’s without you. But with you, he’s much better. Believe me,” said the thin man. “You civilize him."

* * *

The scene shifted. Michael and Alexander talked in a room somewhere. Alexander was far younger—still a child.

"I can have anything I want, can’t I?" Alexander said.

Michael nodded. "Most things. But not everything."

"Father says I’ll be in charge someday. That I’ll be President. Then I’ll have everything I want. More." He looked angry. Michael sighed and placed an arm around the youth. Alexander didn’t flinch or back away.

"In fact, I think you’ll have less. Being president is a terrible responsibility. Look how it ages your poor father! …And, I want you to remember…" and here he seemed to look directly at Michael and the thin man, "Always try to be the best man you can be.
And never give up hope.
"

* * *

The thin man frowned, perplexed; had he not expected Michael to say that?  Before he could collect himself , the scene shifted again. A slightly older Alexander.

"But he’s a
servant
," Alexander whined. "Why shouldn’t he do what I want him to?"

"Because he’s also a man. A human being. Men aren’t just playthings." The older Michael sighed. "I wish your foster father would realize that some days."

Alexander’s eyes widened. "Like last night?"

Michael nodded. "Your father…" he stopped and thought for a moment. "All men want to live in freedom. It gives them hope…"

"Huh?" Alexander said.

 The thin man looked faintly puzzled for another instant, then regained his  composure.

Michael was struck with a sudden thought.

* * *

The scene shifted again.

"You see? You make him a better man. You help to shape and mold one of the greatest men who has ever lived. That’s what I’m offering. That chance. And even better," the thin man said. "You’ll get the chance to live."

They were in a small apartment… maybe on the palace grounds somewhere? It was hard to tell. This was the bedroom.

Michael was there, sitting on the bed. He seemed older than in the previous visions. Someone came into the room. She had black hair, streaked with gray. She wore a kind smile, but her eyes seemed heavy and sad. "And how are you? How are things up there?"

My God. It’s Monica.

Michael smiled back at her, and they touched lips lightly. "Bad. As always. You know."

Monica nodded. "Yes. I heard from Alice today. She says that her husband is going to enlist."

"That’s a terrible idea," Michael grumbled. "Going to be war soon."

"That’s why, apparently." She sighed and sat next to him. "I’m so glad I at least have you close by."

He placed a hand on hers, and looked into her eyes.

She smiled. "See anything?"

"You and me getting older. But together, at least."

 "Well, that’s a relief." She sighed and put her head on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He paused for a moment. "Don’t lose hope. Nothing’s ever broken forever."

"What?"

* * *

 "So you see," the thin man said hurriedly as the scene faded out. "Life. You want life. I know you do. The alternative is… hm. You know perfectly well."

The control room shimmered back into view. "You could die here. Today. You don’t want to die. I know that much."

 And of course, he was right. Michael didn’t want to die. A small, traitorous part of him started to consider what the thin man was offering.

"What use is there in dying for something, when there’s no hope at all?" the thin man asked. "You could live. You could live with your sweetheart for another fifty, sixty years. No, it won’t be perfect. But what ever is? The point is, you’d be alive."

 The thin man touched him again, and Michael was surrounded by beautiful, exhilarating images.  Rain fell gently on his head, cool breezes blew in his face as he laughed. He looked out of a viewport at the green curve of a planet below. He kissed his wife, and took her in his arms. She was so happy. She was so beautiful. He sat and read lines from a book he loved, a warm fire crackling next to him. The sky was blue overhead. He could see for miles. For miles… life was sweet.

* * *

And then the thin man withdrew his hand and the visions disappeared. The air was hot and thick. He could hardly breathe. "All flashes of what’s possible," he said. "But you won’t have any of them if you continue to resist what’s inevitable. So. Join us."

 Michael sank back. There was nothing else he could do. It was over.

All that was left was deciding to live or die.

 
Life is worth a lot, but not everything.
Had Joe said that?

Of course.
Of course he had.
 
Don’t give up hope.

 Nothing stays broken forever.

All men want to live in freedom.

 Joe had said all of that. Michael, the older Michael, had repeated them. Why?

Because
, Michael thought,
maybe he figured out that it wasn’t worth living that life, just to be alive. Maybe he remembered this. Maybe he's warning me, trying to change the past.

But he wanted to live, to ignore the warnings and stay alive, stay breathing. So what if life wouldn’t be perfect?