The 13th Star: An Action Adventure Sci-F Apocalyptic Novel (10 page)

“Everything is fine. You can relax,” he told them.

“Sir,” gasped one. The impressive commander rank insignias on his shoulders jiggled as he tried to catch his breath. “Sir,
we’re very sorry you were bothered.”

“Bothered? Nonsense,” Rettoul protested. “No one bothered me. On the contrary, I am bothering this nice lady. But apart from
saying hello, I didn’t even manage to ask her how she is,” he said, winking at Sarah and smiling playfully.

The commander stood up straighter as he gained his composure. “Sir, residents of the
planet
are forbidden to speak to strangers. We don’t want them bothering visitors and disturbing their stay here. I am really sorry.”

“Rubbish,” said Rettoul. “I’d love to talk to the residents and hear a little bit about your lovely place. Anyway, honored
sir, I haven’t even asked the lady’s name.”

Rettoul offered his hand to the woman, ignoring the commander’s reddening face. “I am Rettoul.”

“Sarah,” she replied with a broad smile.

“Pleased to meet you.” Rettoul turned to the commander. “Now I’m yours.” He smiled genially. “Please be sure to entertain
me properly, as you see fit.”

For many hours, Levi’s commanders presented Rettoul with a classified security review. Rettoul was careful with his questions.
He knew they were telling him only what they wanted to and were deliberately confusing the information they did provide. He
had one question, but he restrained himself from asking: Why were they reporting this data? He let that question go and tried
to endure the hours until eight in the evening.

The navigator of the Road Star didn’t need an explanation of how to reach David’s house. Rettoul asked her to take him to
it, and a few minutes later she parked the vehicle in front of his residence. Rettoul was amazed. This house looks just like
my childhood home,
he thought.

Benaya’s home. So many memories, along with the pain, surfaced.

The balcony of David’s house was a perfect copy of the balcony he remembered: a worn rocking chair at one end, a table and
two ugly chairs on the other side, manicured flower beds. A sequence of images from his childhood surfaced and tears of pain
prevented him from walking further.

Benaya. He missed her so.

Despite the pain, before he even met David, his soul was at peace. Rettoul felt like he was coming home and his steps were
light.

Rettoul knocked on the heavy old wooden door that didn’t match the rest of the structure. An inviting call was heard from
the other side. Entering the hall, he almost banged his head on the
low
doorjamb.

In the middle of the room was a huge, very old dining table, set perfectly. A heavy embroidered tablecloth fell over the edges
and in the center, two pairs of candlesticks with tall candles were lit. Full bowls of food had been placed on matching saucers.
Three plates arranged with cutlery and wine glasses, and a sealed jug of wine, hinted at a festive meal.

The food had been served, but no one was sitting at the table. Rettoul approached and noticed the embroidery on the tablecloth
had been taken from a relief he knew: A man making his way through a wheat field, the sun burning his back and a waterfall
in the distance, and many people following him.

He couldn’t remember where he’d seen this image, or what it symbolized, but he had no doubt he’d seen it in the past. On the
other side of the wall, he heard a male voice say, “I’m coming out, if you don’t mind.”

Rettoul waited a few seconds while straining his mind. Something’s familiar to me here, but I don’t know what.

An elderly man entered, meeting him with a big smile and a greeting. “Hello, Rettoul.”

Rettoul was thrilled. Something in this house, in this man in front of him, imbued him with confidence. It was as if they’d
known each other for years.

“I’m glad you came in time. My wife is also waiting for you, but you met her before.” David smiled at him and shook his hand
in greeting.

“Your wife?” Rettoul was astonished. Sarah came out of the kitchen, smiling.

“Yes, I’m glad you came just in time. Please sit down and eat with us.”

Rettoul was shy thought of refusing, but didn’t say a word. His happy smile matched the warm faces greeting him.

“You want answers, right?” asked David.

“Yes. I came here to get answers.”

“I’ll give you all I can, but let’s start with what’s already on the table. Sit with us and have dinner. It’s been a long
time since we had such a special guest. We’re privileged
to sit and eat with you tonight
.”

Rettoul was embarrassed. “I’m just the same as you,” he said.

“No, dear Rettoul. You’re different,” said Sarah.

The meal was the most delicious he’d eaten in years, as if they’d prepared the delicacies he so loved—the food he ate as a
child. Rettoul knew he’d done the right thing coming here, feeling again as if he’d come home. Even if he didn’t receive answers,
he’d already received experiences far beyond his expectations.

Outside, laughter came from the law enforcement members patrolling in the streets. Rettoul didn’t quite understand their role,
but let it go for the meantime.

When they finished the meal, Sarah and David said the blessing in the ancient Cherka language. Understanding every word, Rettoul’s
internal excitement grew frenzied, although he sat calmly. Hopefully, in the next few minutes, his life would be
clear. These people
know the answer to my only question, he
thought. Who am I? Who am I?

The question resonated within him, but he didn’t know how to start. He’d come to David and Sarah from nowhere. Although they
were welcoming and everything he experienced filled him with good memories, his whole body tensed before receiving the answer
to “Who is Rettoul?”

“On the
planet
of Falcon was a woman named Benaya—” he started.

David stopped him immediately. “Leave Benaya out of it. You came this far to know who you are, not to go back to Benaya.”

“What do you mean?” Rettoul asked in amazement.

“It means the answer lies with you, not with Benaya.”

David placed his hand over Rettoul’s and gazed into his eyes. Rettoul shook with tension and excitement and his eyes welled
up with tears.

“You’re not the man,” said David quietly, cutting the silence.

Sarah winced. “How is it possible?” she murmured.

“You’re not the man, Rettoul,” David declared more strongly.

“So who am I?” Rettoul whimpered. “Who am I? I don’t want to be the man. Don’t want to be the man! I wish I had the courage
and the ability to say it to Benaya. I’m not the ruler! Like you said, I’m not the man.” Hot tears flooded his burning cheeks.

“What did you say?” David tensed suddenly. “What did you just say—exactly? What exactly did you say?” he repeated. His eyes
opened wide and stared at the pained Rettoul.

“I don’t want to be the man. I just want to know who I really am.”

David was dismissive. “No, not that. What did you say before?”

Rettoul tried to recover his words. He didn’t understand exactly what David wanted from him. “I don’t want to be the man,
and I wish I had the courage and the ability to say that to Benaya, and I’m not the ruler and—”

“Stop!” David interrupted. “What’s this about you and the ruler?” he asked suspiciously.

Rettoul took out of his pocket asmall case and in the case was piece of scroll that had accompanied him for many years. On
it were sentences written in the most ancient Cherka language. David took it from him reverently while Sarah held her breath.

“Who did you kill for it?” David demanded.

“Kill?” Rettoul laughed painfully. “I didn’t kill anyone. Benaya gave the ancient scroll to me.”

David looked at the scroll and Rettoul alternately. “Two of the three prove that it might be you, but we have to settle the
issue,” he said, assessing the situation.

David left and came back holding a Jorash. “We have to clarify one thing. The scar is very clear. The scroll is real. So there’s
only one thing left to find out.” David held out
the Jorash and looked at it meaningfully. “If you’re you, I can help you. If you’re someone else, you will have to leave and
never return.” He brought the Jorash toward Rettoul’s hand and waited for its sting.

Rettoul knew he could die. Sarah, too, who was sure that Rettoul was the man, feared for his life. David stood in front of
him, fulfilling his duty with love and seriousness.

The Jorash stung Rettoul and died immediately. Rettoul didn’t feel the sting at all. Sarah stood open-mouthed and amazed,
looking at his hand—where the wound from the sting was no longer visible.

David gazed at Rettoul’s face and said nothing.

Rettoul shuddered, looking at Sarah and David. Both were too shocked to say a word. For years they had waited, but hadn’t
believed they would ever see this moment. There was a sense of confusion. What now?

Rettoul couldn’t stop from shaking his head and mumbling, “I am not the man, I’m not the ruler. I have no connection to any
of this. I’m not the man, I’m not the ruler, I will not be the ruler…”

David put
a
tired hand on his shoulder. “Give me a minute. This is far beyond what I expected to happen in my life.”

“I’m not the ruler,” Rettoul continued to insist.

David tried to swallow. “Rettoul, my son, don’t be stressed. Everything will sort itself out. You don’t understand what’s
happened just now,” he said, looking into Rettoul’s eyes. “You don’t understand.”

Sarah got up, went to Rettoul, and kissed him on his forehead. “We’ve waited for you for so long. We followed you without
knowing it was you. It’s a privilege to stand here before you today. In fact, it’s the end, because now we can set out on
death’s path without turning around. Finally you’re here and we can rest.” Her kind eyes filled with tears. “Rettoul, you’re
more precious to us than life. We’ve waited for you for years. You have nothing to fear. We’re here next to you, to show you
the way.”

Rettoul sat silently, his
body trembling. Sarah returned to her seat and gestured
to David that he should also sit. For a few moments there was
silence.

Then David began:

Many years ago, a very old and wise man
named Adam lived in the galaxy. He was nice and good looking, with
kind eyes. I met him when I was younger than you, when I was
exactly twenty. Adam and I became friends, as do old people who
live their worlds through those younger than them. We had many
conversations.

At first I didn’t understand how an old
man could tell me my life story, as well as the story of the
galaxy. His stories were nice, interesting, and sometimes too
imaginary. But as time passed, I realized my job—my role in
life—was to expose the ruler of the galaxy and direct his path.

Adam spoke about a newborn baby who was
murdered for fear that he was to rule the galaxy. But his murderers
made a mistake and killed the wrong baby. In fact, they murdered an
innocent baby, taking away any meaningful role in his life, and
left alive the baby they meant to kill.

I was told this child would grow up on
the lap of a stranger, one who would educate him and prepare him
for a meaningful life.

The life story of the boy who would alter
the face of the galaxy was amazing. And I was captivated with
Adam’s stories. One day, old Adam, of whom I was very fond, asked
me to meet a nice young girl. So Sarah entered my life.

Rettoul didn’t understand the connection between warm-hearted Sarah and his life story, but said nothing. Such are the stories
of old people, he thought. Always intertwined in their lives.

David continued.

Sarah didn’t talk much and her silence
appealed to me. Sometime later we were married and old Adam left
our lives, but not before disclosing our life’s task to Sarah and
to me. “You’re responsible for the child who will change the face
of the galaxy,” he said. We didn’t understand his meaning. “You’re
responsible,” he repeated, not adding anything else.

Years passed. Sarah and I matured. We
didn’t have children until you were born, Rettoul.

David fell silent, with Sarah’s heavy breathing the only sound in the room.
Rettoul
realized she was
crying.