The 13th Star: An Action Adventure Sci-F Apocalyptic Novel (9 page)

Zoi also foundagirl friend,her name was—Connie, one of the Rahavic girls. Initially he believed he’d found a beautiful and
attentive girl, but soon discovered those were
her least important traits. Connie had an exceptional ability to converse. There were few subjects in which she didn’t involve
herself, and always in a way that left her audience marveling at her intelligence. Zoi found Connie to be his soulmate; they
became good friends and perfect partners. It was the first time he dared to open his heart and soul and discuss his painful
childhood.

Memorial days in the camp were difficult, if only because no one cried or spoke much. Rettoul and his friends tried to introduce
some outlet of emotion to the ceremonies, but Bar, who still commanded the camp high-handedly, didn’t heed their wishes on
this point. “Soldiers don’t cry! Soldiers don’t pour out their hearts! Soldiers do what they’re told!” That was Bar’s mantra.

The ceremonies were often painful and emotionally charged, yet restrained, and there was a mechanical aspect to them, making
everything far less tolerable.

Thor broke down at one of the ceremonies when one of the dead mentioned was an outstanding student in his first course, whom
Thor loved like a brother. On the day he died, Thor couldn’t speak. Even a week later he was still silent, relating to the
student as if he’d been his son. His death was too hard for Thor to bear. In the ceremony marking the third anniversary of
his death, Thor collapsed, and all his cadets with him. It was strange: Thor sobbing as if his enormous body was shattered
into pieces. Bar didn’t know what to do and cut the ceremony short when the emotional dams were breached.

The names, songs, and stories were strangers to Bar. He wouldn’t allow singing or hugging in difficult moments.

The intimate family atmosphere that developed because of the relationships between Mattoui and Tamar and between Zoi and Connie
expanded the quintet, making it wider, as well as more loaded, sensitive, and complete. The still-single men felt comfortable
bringing their partners into the quintet’s warm home. Many attempts were made by groups and individuals to enter the special
family, but they guarded their unique situation jealously.

Rettoul couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart every time they ate meals together and gathered as a large family. Benaya
didn’t leave his mind for a moment. He had reconstructed the course of his life—their conversations, the packages she sent
him, her letters, her last day, and his return home years later. He hadn’t managed to understand what “the right way” was.
He continued to do what he should, but didn’t stop wondering.

The strong desire to understand pushed Rettoul to the pages of galactic history books, where he encountered the Creator of
the biblical galaxy—the image, the body,
the
entity responsible for everything that happened. The existential questions that haunted Rettoul increased his curiosity about
this entity. He continued to explore and investigate, and his mind drifted from his position in the camp to his position in
the universe.

The thoughts kept him awake at night. Questions about his own life arose: Who were his real parents? Who was Benaya? Why did
she sacrifice her life for him? He waited for the end of the current course and asked for time off to visit Levi. He wanted
to check the authenticity of the fundamentals of the biblical galactic history. It was already clear to him that while Benaya
played a role in his life, his life played a role in the life of the entire galaxy. He didn’t know what it was, but the very
discovery could divert his attention from normal daily life.

One morning Mattoui went into Rettoul’s room. The familiar room appeared to have changed recently and Mattoui was not sure
whether to comment on the large number of books piled in every corner or not. His love and respect for Rettoul were great,
so he knew the research he was doing on galactic history would be of importance far beyond what could be appreciated now.
He just didn’t know that the research was not the result of bland curiosities, but of an existential, fateful, important question—not
only for Rettoul himself, but for the entire galaxy.

Mattoui, whose love for Tamar and life with her were new to him, wanted to consult with his good friend. He relied on Rettoul
more than anyone. The new situation had disrupted his life and he wanted to hear from Rettoul that they weren’t truly disruptions,
but new directions.

Rettoul looked at his friend with a fatherly and friendly smile. He didn’t know much about relationships. The only girlfriend
he’d ever had was Dana, and they separated
quickly after realizing that he’d never be able to give her his heart as she gave him hers. Any advice I give Mattoui, he
thought, is liable to be
bad.

The problems Mattoui presented him with only emphasized Rettoul’s distress. He didn’t know how to solve them or to alleviate
matters for his friend, and it frustrated him. His existential questions arose again.

Rettoul knew better than to postpone his trip to Levi. There, he believed, he would find at least one answer—although he didn’t
know to which question.

On the eve of the end of the fourth course and the four years as instructor's, winter was advancing slowly, though the signs
were already apparent. The skies enjoyed a warmer tone than usual and the wind brought the clear winter scents. Rettoul stood
in the center of the enormous empty parade ground on a giant relief of a cat—the symbol of sharpness and aggression adopted
by the school. Above him the galaxy’s planets were spread like pearls.

His thoughts continued for a long time. The
planet
of Levi… How did one live on that
planet
? What would he find on his arrival? Why was he sure he would find the answers there—of all places? Were there any answers?
Would they be clear to him? What would it take to satisfy him?

Less than an hour ago, hundreds of couples had walked on the parade grounds. Shouts and laughter had been heard everywhere
and the speakers thundered the commanders’ voices. Now the parade ground was empty, but Rettoul still saw the
peoples’ faces, mixing into his thoughts with Levi, the place where he believed he’d find serenity.

Mattoui and Tamar made their way from the parade ground on foot. Silently, in a language that seemed understood only by them,
they planned their small wedding ceremony. They knew a lot of people would want to take part in it and therefore designed
in advance a modest ceremony allowing limited participation that wouldn’t insult anyone not invited. Apparently there would
be many of those. Mattoui and Tamar would have been happy to simply have the quintet and their partners as guests, but they
knew such a step was too extreme.

Mattoui was very tired, as the days preceding the ceremony were tedious. These days, the courses seemed to pass from start
to finish like a conveyor belt before the eyes of the quintet. Everything was there in their memories, but everything was
seen anew.

There’s something tiring about invoking memories,
Mattoui
thought as he sat down heavily. I need to be less emotionally involved. It’s getting to be too much, he decided. From the
chair in the middle of the living room, he spied an
unfamiliar
white envelope lying on the coffee table. Nothing on the outside gave a clue as to what was inside.

“I took the Kaiser. I’m going to Levi. Don’t try to contact me, and I’ll be back in exactly a month. Take care of everyone,
especially Thor. I worry that he might do something impulsive. Rettoul.”

Mattoui apparently paled because Tamar became frightened at the sight of his face. “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

Tamar saw the letter in his hand. “Bad news?”

“I don’t know. Rettoul took the top brass’ fighter plane,” he murmured, nodding like a puppet.

In front of him was the Wall of Memories. Everyone called it that since it was adorned with dozens of pictures of the quintet
from their times together. At the edge of the wall were two personal photographs of Mattoui that didn’t belong to the group—a
photograph of him when he was seven or eight years old, his legs muddied and his face smiling with childhood joy. A face that
didn’t know of the injustices of the world. The second was a picture of him with his father, both smiling broadly as only
a father and son can smile. Anyone looking at the picture would realize they were father and son, although they weren’t alike
in the least.

The flight was relatively short, but Rettoul felt as if it were endless. From the air he noticed that Levi was smaller than
he’d thought, and most of it was covered with light-colored fields. In the center of each field was a house—each one identical,
as if it were a royal order.

There were only a few high-rise buildings on Levi, which he identified as schools from his flight. Rettoul chose to stay in
the air for a few more minutes than usual, to
see the planet as it could only be seen from a distance, and managed to gather information that doubtfully could be gathered
from the ground. There weren’t many aircraft, and a huge land area was dedicated to a market—much larger than on any other
planet
he knew. The fact that he recognized it as a market and was able to estimate its size while still in the air proved how large
it was. Not many people could be seen, although Rettoul knew quite a few lived there.

“Where is everyone in the middle of the day?” he wondered aloud. The strong sun of late morning greeted him upon landing.
Rettoul knew no one was idle on the planet, as each resident had their own task and workplace. Yet it was calm, as if the
planet had yet to arouse itself from the night and its people were still in bed.

The hinges of the Kaiser’s door squealed when he opened it and Rettoul shuddered. Suddenly he realized that he was on Levi.
He came looking for answers, but not all the questions were clear enough to him to be able to ask.

While getting organized in the Kaiser before exiting, he noticed a group of stocky people running toward him, out of breath
and wearing military uniforms. As if hearing an order he didn’t hear, they stood in a row opposite the Kaiser, waiting for
him to exit. They looked impressive, but their weight and the flawed physical abilities it contributed to showed they were
unsuited to being enforcers of law and order as he knew it.

Okay, he thought, this isn’t about war. My name is known, and only I can find the answers to the questions in my heart. I
don’t need them and won’t demand anything from them.

The men saluted him, again as if obeying an unheard command. The most authoritative and oldest headed for Rettoul and a smile
of unconcealed delight spread across his face. “Sir, it is a great honor to have you as our guest.”

Rettoul nodded and authoritative man continued. “I am Fidelio…” He stuck out his sweaty hand. “…the head of law enforcement
on our planet. What brings you to Levi, the star of the slaves of the galaxy?”

“Slaves?” said Rettoul. He hadn’t prepared himself for a
planet
of slaves.

“Hmm.” Fidelio tried to soften his words “Slaves… I mean, we’re all servants of the galaxy.”

Rettoul couldn’t figure out who’d appointed the fat uniformed clown to such a senior and responsible role. “Who prepared you
for my arrival?”

“What do you mean? We’ve been waiting for you for three and a half months,” Fidelio said breathlessly. “David, the head of
the slaves…” He paused for a moment. “…said a military man would come today at ten exactly.” A broad smile spread over his
face again. “We, members of the law and the military, know how to be on time. An hour is an hour.” Fidelio shoved his chest
forward boastfully.

“We didn’t know how to prepare for you, so I left a very elite team to meet your needs while you’re on the
planet
. And, of course, the department manager’s personal vehicle was left here for your use. How long do you plan to stay on Levi?”
Fidelio tried to find out more information.

He didn’t succeed because Rettoul didn’t answer. He gazed forward toward the light fields that stretched to the horizon. “Please
take me to David.”

“David? Now?” Fidelio wondered aloud. “David should be in the fields now, but at eight o’clock they all come home. Then you
can find him there. I’d love to join you, but you’ll be able to find him easily. Everyone knows which house is his—the one
with a big glass window in the ceiling. David looks at the galaxy every night.”

Rettoul decided to walk around alone before meeting this David—who was aware of his arrival before he knew he was coming himself.
That fact might have surprised him except since starting his quest, he was not surprised by anything.

The vehicle Fidelio mentioned was a blue Road Star, similar to a style Rettoul knew—a small elliptical hovercraft with two
seats, computerized and full of buttons. A pretty personal human navigation system greeted him, smiling.

“Take me for a ground ride,” he said in response to the automatic question and sat back in his chair.

The Road Star raced forward and within a second and a half, Rettoul found himself in a field of beautiful flowers. There were
no people in the field, just flowers. The Road Star slowed before each flower. Rettoul enjoyed the colorful and spectacular
space and then asked to move on. The Road Star accelerated quickly and briefly again and Rettoul found himself in another
field of beautiful flowers, identical to the first. The Road Star repeatedly slowed in front of each flower.

It seems these are preset stations
, Rettoul thought, asking to move on. The Road Star once more picked up speed and stopped in a field of flowers. It appeared
to be the same one he’d been in a moment ago.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “I want to get out of this field and see other things. Is there nothing else here apart from
fields of flowers?”

“I received an order, sir,” said the female voice of the navigator.

“And the order is?”

“To show you the fields of flowers.”

“Is there something special in them?”

“Flowers,” she replied.

“There are tens of thousands of fields on this
planet
,” Rettoul said, exasperated. “Why aren’t we going to another one? Or maybe the enormous market, or to any other place?”

“I received an order, sir.”

“In that case, I order you now to take me to a field of
crops
.”

The navigator was silent for a moment and then the Road Star sailed forward. Within seconds they were in a huge field of grain.
Dozens of people were working and clearly armed law enforcement officers guarded them carefully—as if they might escape. This
puzzled Rettoul. He wouldn’t have expected such stern inflexibility on the
planet
.

He examined the workers’ faces—no smiles. Their obvious sadness and weariness reached his heart. Their hands worked mechanically,
as if they weren’t connected to a human body—both men and women’s eyes downcast, backs bent, harvesting and gathering, harvesting
and gathering. Rettoul noticed none of them held a Jorash, which surprised him even more.

Above them, like taskmasters, stood the military men.

Rettoul parked the Road Star
behind a small shed and began to roam the area, finding streets empty and neglected, wretchedness evident everywhere. His
eyes missed nothing, not expecting these scenes. It was as if life had stopped here many years ago and hadn’t developed or
progressed. If he thought in terms of time, Rettoul was wandering a planet left over from the previous century, if not much,
much earlier.

Walking through the empty streets, everything seemed the same, but he noticed subtle differences that emphasized the glaring
misery and neglect.

Sarah noticed the man wandering around the junior school, her alert eyes taking in the stranger wearing an impressive uniform.
Rettoul didn’t see her, but she looked at him curiously, though without any joy of discovery. It was as if she’d expected
to see him, and here he was in front of her.

Sarah was short with blond hair, yet his eyes caught the little figure and he approached her. She was the only person he’d
seen since leaving the grain field.
Something in her face was familiar, but he didn’t know what.
I’m deceiving myself
, he thought, almost speaking aloud.

Rettoul stopped, standing in front of her and smiling. She grinned back with a broad maternal smile. Suddenly he remembered
Benaya’s smile that had accompanied him since his childhood. For many years he hadn’t seen it apart from his dreams and his
memories.

“Hello,” he said.

She didn’t answer, but her face was radiant. She’s nothing like the people working in the fields, he thought. Sarah reached
up to his face. For some reason, Rettoul didn’t move, letting her run her fingers over his childhood scar. No one had ever
touched it except Benaya, and she’d only done so when he was a child.

The scar concealed a secret, as well as pain. He protected it from the world, and even from himself.

Sarah felt she’d touched his soul and her fingers seemed to hover over the scar. Her smile remained warm and promising as
she stated quietly, “You’re looking for David.”

“How did you know?” He couldn’t hide his surprise.

She smiled broadly. “All the military personnel are looking for David. You’ll find him in his house at eight in the evening,
not before.” Her eyes were good and kind—Rettoul felt that he knew her, but not how or from where.

He suddenly noticed quite a few law enforcement personnel
running toward them.
As they drew closer, he could tell they wanted
to
keep her away from him. He raised his hands wearily.