Command Me To Be Well [Completed]

13 - Meticulous measures

"Master Auberon is here," Timur announces. "He's going to talk to you."

The permanent murmur quiets down in a second.

We're in the control room. The people of the Gate are gathered together in the hangar, under us. Everyone is there. The pilots, the personnel, the on-duty, the injured. Everybody. All of us. Together.

All of us, who will die tomorrow, together.

Master Auberon leans closer to the microphone, putting his hands on the desk. He doesn't sit down. That just wouldn't be him.

The soldiers are watching him with adoring eyes. There's obviously nothing in the world they wouldn't do for him.

"The Madame Seer obtained an invaluable piece of information for us," he starts his speech. "Finally, after all those months trying to protect ourselves, we have a chance. Now it's our turn to attack."

The whole army nods as one.

"Most of you already know what to expect," he goes on, "because news travels fast. And I know too, that I don't need to ask for volunteers to fly with me to take out the queen. I already have more than enough people for this mission without asking. Thank you."

I can't help but shake my head. In my humble opinion, some too many youngsters are eager to die for him without a second thought. He must have been right. My way of thinking avoids dead ends by default.

With him, my brain corrects itself in a second. It's not for him. It's with him.

It doesn't make my mood any lighter.

"And those who will stay here tomorrow to fight for the Gate," he says, "you'll be defending the last outpost of the human civilization. Your task won't be any less crucial. And not any less dangerous either."

I nod. It's something I already know. And, I add mentally, they won't be any less hard to navigate than ever before. The real battle for humanity only starts after the suicide squad succeeds. If they succeed. If they don't, we're all dead by default.

When I catch myself involuntarily building up a strategy for tomorrow, I grin bitterly. My mind still does what needs to be done, regardless of my feelings. I'm still a Seer, no matter what. I can accept our inevitable death, and work against it, at the same time. It's something the Seer's credo really should cover. Cognitive dissonance. That's what makes a fucking Seer.

Master Auberon takes a deep breath, getting to the point where he'd probably stop if he wasn't the last bastion of hope and other nonsense. But he is. So he just can't sugarcoat the facts.

"I won't lie to you," he declares. "There's only a slight chance of winning. But it's our last chance, slight or not. There won't be another. We have to take it. Early in the morning, we'll be out there."

I sigh. So he wants to give them another night to live. A very last opportunity to arrange everything that needs to be arranged. To tell what needs to be told. To do what needs to be done. To prepare properly for what's to come.

In a way, it makes everything even harder. In another way, it's the only humanistic solution to an unsolvable dilemma.

"So," he says, "you might want to spend this night with your friends. Or the person you feel closest to."

The soldiers in the hangar seem a bit confused. They are still waiting for something, a command, maybe, to start living ferociously, trying to condense everything they ever wanted into a few hours. They are talking to each other, forming pairs, or groups, some holding hands, some hugging, but still standing around.