Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (9 page)

Looming
like
a
wall
behind
all
those
memories
lay
the
searing experience
of
the
night
he
had
received
Joshua's
letter
telling
him of
Will's
death—but
that
memory,
too,
was
like
a
story
related
by
a stranger.
He
could
not
really
remember
his
emotions
of
that moment—he
remembered
the
fact
of
them,
and
that
he
had
found his
fist
in
the
wall
of
his
hotel
room;
but
the
emotions
themselves were
gone,
as
if
consigned
to
lie
here
with
Will.

He
did
not
want
to
remember.
His
mind
was
a
repugnant
jumble
.
.
.
but
his
rational
watcher
still
failed
to
reach
out
with
a
comment
that
could
serve
as
a
lifeline
to
his
accustomed
control.

Immobilized,
afraid
to
react,
he
stood
there
in
an
agonized
eternity
...
and
after
a
while
he
found
his
mind
was
noting
the
way
the breeze
tugged
at
his
clothing.
The
tide
of
emotion
had
swept
over him
and
passed
on;
he
had
survived
it
unchanged,
and
could
begin to
look
outside
himself
once
more.

In
his
peripheral
vision
he
could
see
motion
that
was
Toni's
hair being
ruffled
by
the
breeze;
something
kept
him
from
looking
directly
at
her
face.
Henry
was
beyond
her,
but
Bleys
did
not
try
⁷
to look
at
him.

After
a
few
moments,
Henry
spoke,
softly:
"Thy
will
be
done— that
day,
now,
and
forever."

What
remained
of
the
spell
broke.
Bleys
looked
at
Toni,
to
see
a tear
creeping
down
her
cheek.
There
must
have
been
an
earlier one,
he
thought,
because
this
one
was
following
a
moistened
track.

Bleys
still
saw
no
sign
of
emotion
in
Henry's
face,
or
in
his
body-language.

Henry
turned
without
another
word,
and
started
back
to
their
vehicle,
Dahno
beside
him.
Toni
put
a
hand
on
Bleys'
arm,
holding him
back.

"Is
this
all
there
is?"
she
asked.
She
seemed
to
be
trying
to
whisper,
but
anger
made
her
words
carry
farther
than
she
intended,
and Henry
stopped
and
looked
back
at
them.

"What
do
you
mean?"
Bleys
asked.

"Look
at
this!"
she
exclaimed,
her
arm
swinging
out
in
a
great
semicircle
that
took
in
the
whole
of
the
weed-overgrown
field.
"They buried
these
young
men
and
just
went
away,
and
no
one
even
bothers to—to
mow
these,
these
weeds!'"

She
blinked,
looking
up
into
his
face,
her
eyes
filling
with
moisture.

"They
never
even
put
those
boys'
names
on
that
stone!"
And she
sobbed,
once,
so
quietly
that
it
seemed
almost
a
gulp.

As
Bleys
stood
there,
at
a
total
loss
for
words,
Henry
spoke.

"I
know
you
speak
out
of
your
heart,
Antonia,"
he
said.
"But
you are
mistaken."

He
shook
his
head,
a
gentle
smile
on
his
face.

"Such
things
as
this
monument
are
mere
vanities,
placed
here
as a
sop
to
our
weaknesses,"
he
continued.
"These
young
men
need them
not.
They
have
carried
out
their
duty
to
the
fullest
extent
of their
abilities,
and
now
rest
with
their
God,
Who
is
well-satisfied with
them.
And
His
embrace
is
all
they
need."

He
smiled
directly
at
Toni,
raising
a
hand—almost
in
blessing, Bleys
thought.

"If
these
young
men
lay
in
unmarked
graves,"
Henry
said,
"unknown
to
all
the
human
race,
it
would
make
no
difference.
For
the Lord
knows
them,
and
that
is
all
that
will
ever
be
needed."

He
started
to
turn
away;
but
stopped
once
more,
turning
to
look at
Toni
again.

"I
understand
that
your
concern
is
for
me,
Antonia,"
he
said. "And
I
would
not
have
you
think
me
ungrateful.
But
there
is
no need
for
concern
in
this
matter.
God
has
blessed
my
human
weakness
by
bringing
me
to
this
place,
for
some
purpose
of
His
own.
I am
grateful,
yet
it
changes
nothing."

On
their
way
back
to
their
vehicle,
its
driver
popped
out
of
its
door, waving
at
them.

"Hurry!"
she
yelled.
"Move
it!
Emergency!"

Seeing
them
speed
up,
she
turned
back
to
the
limousine;
and
by the
time
they
reached
the
vehicle
its
doors
were
open,
the
engine was
running,
and
a
comm
channel
was
being
piped
through
to
the rear
compartment's
speakers.

"—not
return
the
way
you
came,"
a
voice
was
saying.
"We're working
out
the
fastest
way
to
get
an
escort
to
you,
but
get
moving right
now!
Go
north,
and
then
take
the
first
east
you
come
to.
By that
time
we'll
have
instructions
for
you."

"I've
got
it,"
their
driver
said.
She
looked
back
at
her
passengers through
the
now-open
privacy
window
that
usually
screened
off
the rear
compartment.

"Secure
yourselves,"
she
said;
and
almost
immediately
a
burst
of acceleration
blew
them
up
above
the
roadway
and
down
it
in
the
direction
they
had
been
facing,
the
initial
cloud
of
dust
their
fans threw
up
quickly
dying
down
behind
them
as
they
rose
to
greater height.