Chapter 16: Wits Alie

After three days Roy and his companions arrived at the marketplace. There was a joy in the air as if everyone had been waiting with great anticipation for them to roll into town. Zohn and his boys were a welcome sight each year. Not only was their fruit great for making pies and preserves, but also to make an extremely popular alcoholic beverage called Wits Alie; a spicy and potent beverage invented by Zohn's great-grandfather and known by all in the land as a favorite of all the people. The fruit was considered the taste of the season and everyone wanted to make something from the ripe treat. It reminded Roy of the pumpkin festivals back home. Innkeepers, merchants, bakers, and others gathered around the carts buying the fruit faster than they could unload them. Purses of gold and copper coins were waved before Zohn as men and women alike crowded in attempting to outbid one another. The modest old farmer would not even consider charging more than one copper coin for each ripe orb. In his mind to demand any more than what was a fair price would be to cheat his fellow man. Before their shadows got too long, their wagons were empty. Zohn led them to a stable where they could keep their animals and wagons for the night. After seeing that the beast was settled in for the night he took them to a local inn that he knew well, an older three floored building with stone and mud walls on the outside that dated back centuries. Its wood floors and the wood roof had been rebuilt a dozen times over the years, sometimes due to mold and rot, but mostly from fires started by intoxicated patrons. There were small rooms on the second and third floors for rent to any travelers or husbands who were too drunk to return home to their wives and needed a place to sleep off the libations. The main floor was an ample open space with wood benches, tables and an open cooking pit with three iron pots of stew and soups, plus a large animal roasting on a spit.

With their pockets full of copper coins, the Greely boys were eager to sample every dish and drink on the menu, but Zohn reminded them with a look that they did not do such things.  He ordered the stew and a mug for each of them.  Rowley, the Innkeeper, was a round and jolly man, with a stretch of white hair on the back of his mostly bald head and a long white beard with a touch of orange left in it from his youth.  Not only was he an old friend of Zohn, but also his best customer.  The "Wits Alie" that he made from their fruit made his Inn very popular with the locals. With such a fantastic bumper crop he was in the mood to celebrate. Pulling out a barrel of twelve-year-old Alie, he filled their mugs and made a toast. "To the Greely's and their prize Rank." They all drank, including Roy, who normally wasn't a lightweight when it came to strong drink. As a young man he had experienced more than his share of lost weekends with his friends, but as he got older, he saw drinking as more of a necessary skill. Part of bonding with the younger pilots was not just being able to keep up with them in an all-night bender but to be the last one standing, so he was confident that he could hold his own with the local brew. Taking another, larger swig, his left eye slammed shut, and his fist hit the table, as the kick of the beverage hit him harder than he had expected. Everyone had a good laugh at him, and Rowley filled Roy's mug to the top. The stories started to flow, and the Alie didn't stop. Tales of youthful misadventures, tall stories of catching the biggest fish ever seen and the girls who got away became mostly a blur to Roy. He laughed along and even told a few stories himself, but was slurring his words so much no one could understand him. By the end of the evening, he had become so intoxicated that the boys had to help him up to his room and drop him onto his bed.

Roy felt the room start to spin and closed his eyes tight against the familiar illness of over celebration. Grabbing the sides of the wood bed with both hands, he wondered if he could steady himself long enough to make it to the wood bucket in the corner of the room. His strength gave out as his mind faded and his body gave way under its own weight. Listening to his own moans he stayed as still as he could, waiting to see if he was going to completely pass out or be sick first. After a few minutes, the sensation of inebriation started to fade. Feeling quite sober he opened his eyes to find himself in a marble room with five large windows down one side. White light came through the windows, but he could not see through them. A man sat in the middle of the room, dressed like a King and pondering over a chess board. Roy found that he was clean shaven and in his dress uniform. There was something about being in a dress uniform that can change a man's attitude. A soldier's discipline when in a formal situation is to seek out the protocol first before asking any questions. The heels of his shoes clicked on the floor as he crossed to the man. At halfway he stopped and waited for permission to approach as if he was entering the office of a foreign dignitary. The man gestured for him to approach and he walked towards the man. As he got closer, he believed that he recognized the man that he had never met before as Katreena's father.

"King Timothy?"

"Yes, have a seat young man," Timothy replied in an odd matter of fact way.

Roy sat down and took a moment to think about what he should say. "Hello, Your Highness. My name is Commander Roy O'Hara."

"I know who you are," Timothy said in a rather cold way as if he was a little insulted by the assumption that he wouldn't know who Roy was.

"Yes, Sir," Roy said trying to demonstrate respect. "You wished to speak with me?"

"No," Timothy replied in more a distracted manner as his attention was more on the game rather than Roy.

"Then why am I here?"

"How should I know?  I've been dead for some time now." Timothy said still looking at the board.

Roy looked around for anything to give him a clue, but there was nothing more in the room; so he asked another question. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"I suppose I am."  The King answered as he scratched his beard and pondered his next chess move.

"Who?"  Roy asked leaning in, feeling a bit frustrated by the cryptic tone of the conversation.

"I don't know."

Roy didn't like not knowing what was happening and felt that he couldn't just sit there, so he stood up to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Timothy demanded.

"I don't know."

"Then sit down," Timothy commanded. Roy did as he was told. "Now you may," Timothy said in a cool, but kinder tone.

"I may what?" Roy asked even more confused.

"Ask your questions."

"What questions?"

"The questions that have been on your mind.  That's why I'm here is it not?" Timothy's voice was still cool and commanding, but also had a kindness mixed in as he was a practiced leader of men.

Roy thought for a moment. He did have some questions, but could he get real answers in an alcohol-induced dream from a dead man? Then again if it had something to do with his other dreams, maybe there was something to gain. "This has something to do with Katreena, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"She wanted you to talk to me?"  Roy said a bit happier that he was on the right track.

"Most likely." King Timothy said with his attention back on the game and less with Roy.

"Why?"

"I don't know."  His tone was collected despite the obvious absurdity of the conversation which was going in circles.  Roy was becoming frustrated and didn't think he was getting anywhere with it.  "Why is this happening?" he said with clear irritation in his voice and face.

"That I think I can answer." Timothy sat back in his chair and looked directly at Roy.   "Katreena has recently learned that the Boto Stone that she used to heal you has created a, well you might call it a psychic bond between the two of you that is allowing you to share thoughts, memories and even emotions." Timothy spoke in a very matter of a fact way while he was moving a piece on the chessboard. "Check.  It's your move."

"I'm sorry?" Roy asked not realizing that he was supposed to be playing the game.

"It's your move."

"Oh...Okay.  A... Knight to Bishop's level four."  Roy said moving his knight.

"Interesting move." The King said as he studied the board and made another move.

Roy's thoughts were about what the King had just explained to him regarding Katreena and the stone. It was too abstract to fit in his understanding of reality. Taking the facts into account, he tried to construct a reasonable explanation.  "Okay, to start with, this is a dream.  It's a lucid dream because I know that I am dreaming and I'm having a coherent conversation with a dead person in it.  A person I don't know at all, yet I feel like I know as well as my own father.  A dead person who wants me to play chess with him like my father used to, so this is a dream where my subconscious is creating a place where I feel safe, playing a game from my childhood with a father like figure." Feeling like he solved the mystery he smiled and moved a piece on the board.

"So that's it then?" Timothy said in a bit of a parental tone. "There can be no other explanation?"

"None that I can see."

"Than how do you explain the fact that we are having this conversation in my language and not yours?  Do you honestly believe that you could become completely fluent in a new language in just a couple of weeks?" Timothy moved his queen. "Check."

"I'll admit that had been puzzling me.  Okay, let's assume that there is some sort of mental telepathy between your daughter and me.   Why does it only happen when we are asleep?  Why can't we just communicate directly?"

"It's still your move," Timothy said and then continued to answer Roy's question. "We still don't know too much about these crystals that we use. Even after 1500 years, we know how to use them but know very little about how they work. Using them has become more of an act of faith than that of science. It's funny, your sensibility of science and technology are new concepts to us. Katreena had always been especially inquisitive as a child.  Yet she never felt so compelled to openly question the world around her until she met you."

"Like what?" Roy asked as he moved a piece.

"How the crystals work, where did our people come from and is there more to the universe than we already know." Timothy looked back at the board. "Good move."

"Okay, if she has all of these questions, then why am I talking to her dead father instead of her?"

"Check," Timothy said moving a piece.

Roy waited for an answer that didn't come.  Then he looked down at the board.  "That's not a legal move," he pointed out.

"It is not?" The King asked puzzled.

"Not at all," Roy said confused by the King's sudden ignorance.  "How can you not know that?"

"I'm not controlling the dream," Timothy said leaving the piece where he put it.

Roy began to realize that he was not the only dreamer. "Is she afraid of me?" He whispered hoping he would get a direct answer.

"You share her feelings, what do they tell you?"

Roy sat back and tried to relax his mind to focus on the emotions churning within. "But there is something isn't there?" Roy said. "She is afraid of something, but I don't think it's me as much as it's something associated with me. There's something she wants to tell me but is afraid of confronting me. So her subconscious created an image of her father, someone who makes her feel safe and protected to confront me.  Is that it?" Timothy didn't answer. "Okay I'll bite, what is it that she is afraid to tell me?"

Timothy thought for a moment deciding if he should say something or not.  Then just as he started to speak, "No Father!" Katreena yelled. Timothy disappeared, and Roy turned to see Katreena standing across the room.

Katreena was in the formal dress that she wore in the dream Roy had of her in the marketplace.  He smiled as he found the image of her very appealing, walked up to her and stopped a few feet before her. "Hello."

"Hello," she said. Part of her wanted to keep her distance, and a part felt drawn to him.

"You look very beautiful today," Roy said trying to break the ice.

She did not speak right away. For a moment she froze as she looked at him. He seemed so strong and yet still very gentle in his military uniform. So many thoughts raced through her mind of things that she longed for and the things she must do, as well as the things she could never have and the duties that were required of her. Nothing in her life made sense anymore, and Roy was in the center of it all.

"Please. Please, I can't," she said nearly in tears.

"You can't what?" he asked stepping closer.

"You know," she said looking at him with both longing and pain.

"Know what?" He reached out to her hoping she would reveal the thing she was holding back.

Her lip started to quiver, and she looked away from him. "Give in to what is happening to us."

"What's that?"

"The connection from the Boto stone.  It draws us together.  It makes us feel like we are..."

"What?"

"Falling in love."

Roy was taken aback by the presumption. "You're in love with me?"

"No!" she insisted still unable to look directly at him as she tried to deny the statement.

"But you said..."

"No!" she insisted again looking directly at him in an attempt to convince both him and herself.  "I meant I might be, I mean we could..." she felt as though she was losing the argument with both him and herself.

"You said you are falling."

She took a breath and fixed her posture as she needed a moment to compose her statement. "No. What I meant to say was that it could make us feel as though we are falling in love with each other. I know you know this. You are feeling it as well."

Her statement was like a splash of water in the face. What she said was true, but he didn't want to admit it to her or to himself. Like a child caught in a lie, he tried to deny everything.

"Well, um... look, I don't really know or understand what you are talking about.  I'm certainly not trying to make anything happen between us.  All I want to do is find my ship so I can signal my people and go home."

Confused she stepped even closer to him. "You don't feel this?" Reaching out she softly put her hand up to his heart.

"Feel what?" he asked with a slight tremble like a cornered animal.

"As the bond grows, it blends not just our thoughts, but our feelings too. I can feel the things that you feel, and I thought you could feel mine as well."

"I'm sorry; I don't know what you are talking about," still denying what they were both experiencing.

"How can you say that?" she asked feeling a bit insulted. "It is not just me; I can feel what you are feeling."

"I'm not feeling anything." Lying more to himself than to her.

"I can feel it all," she said as she put her other hand up, so both were on his chest. "I can feel how you miss your sisters, how you long for your home, how you hate your enemy and how guilty you feel for not being part of the fight right now. And I can also feel what you feel when you think about me."

He looked down into her face that was more than beauty. It was innocent and wise, compassionate and vulnerable. Like a mysterious goddess, she embodied all that he had ever longed for and everything that he had once lost. The tight grip he had on the pain that he had buried deep in his soul was giving way, and that frightened him more than anything had ever before.

"I... I can't!" he said.  She could see the fear in his eyes that he had been successful at concealing from others, but could not hide from her.

"You can't what?" she asked as she gently put one hand on his cheek.

"I... My heart died a long time ago."

"How?" she asked as she gently ran her fingers through his hair trying to get him to open up to her.

"I can't," Roy said again and then vanished.

A woman's voice came from across the room. "His heart died with me."

Katreena looked over to see a young, pregnant woman, with shoulder-length blond hair and hazel eyes, in a black dress standing in the middle of the room.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Sarah. I was his wife. He doesn't like to think of me. It hurts too much." She held her belly, stroked it the way an expectant mother does. "We were so happy," she said with a smile as she recalled their life together. "Roy was going to retire from the service as soon as the baby was born. He was so looking forward to being a father. Most career soldiers don't adjust to civilian life to well, but I knew he would. We were going to live in Colorado and help his sisters run their family's business, but the war started back up, and he got assigned to the third fleet. Being apart for months at a time was horrible, so I got the brilliant idea that if I got a job at the Mars supply depot, we could see each other when his ship came in for supplies." Her face went from happy to incredibly sad. "No one expected the enemy to reach our solar system, but they did. They sent raiders in to destroy the fuel and supply depots on Mars. He never forgave himself." A tear rolled down her cheek. Then she looked at Katreena as to plead with her not to give up on Roy.  "There is a part of him that wants to move on, to feel love again.  You've awoken that in him, but he's afraid of it.  He still can't separate his memories of love with his memories of pain."  Explosions could be heard in the distance. "You have to go now."

"What? No wait, I still have questions."

"No, you must go," Sarah said with urgency. "Roy can't dream of me without it becoming a nightmare. It always becomes what he thinks happened when I died. You have to wake up now. Now! Wake Up Now!" The walls of the room exploded all around, and then the room turned into a fireball. Katreena's ears were filled with the roar of the fire and Sarah's terrified scream. She sat up in bed breathing hard. Her stomach was in knots and her face wet with tears. Wiping her face, she got up and put on her robe. Her heart was still pounding as she stepped onto her balcony and looked up at the night sky. It was just a couple hours before dawn, and the whole world seemed to be asleep, yet the night sky was full of life. The universe seemed larger to her than before, as she looked at it with new eyes, knowing that it was full of other people, other lives, and other dreams. She went back to bed no longer afraid of seeing Roy again because she knew that they were more than just linked by a stone. They knew a common pain and wished for lives they could not have, they could truly understand each other as no one else could.