How Are You?

Everyone was asleep. Everyone. Even Kai. Especially Kai, actually. The guy can’t get enough of sleep. The Blues, I forget their names, they were fast asleep too. It was just me awake, sitting beneath the leaves of some sort of tree I didn’t know the name of on the crest of a ridge on a planet called Song. I think it was called that anyway.
The ridgeline we were occupying was dozens of quvars away from any settlement. Roads were at a premium in this country, and so we were dropped off by a Phantom. They never told us why we were going exactly here, only that we were going and that it was a search and destroy operation. So far, we searched and there were no Humans to destroy. It wasn’t even a day, I admit that, but at this point the lack of action was starting to get to me. I started… I started to think again.
The two moons of the planet were in their full phases. I don’t know what the technical term is for that, but they were perfect circular disks in the sky, so the system’s star was splashing its light across their faces, and thus the light was beaming down onto the valley below. There was a shimmering river running down the middle of the landscape, surrounded by meadows full of flowers and short grasses. The trees were mostly twisted, stunted things, with gangly, wiry, swirling branches and big, shiny green leaves. A weak, chilling breeze blew onto my right side.
Anyway, my thinking got started as I stared at the river. How this happens is… I imagine myself being talked to, maybe an interview. With Kai. He’s always so understanding, so tolerant. There’s genuine goodness and honor in his heart. I know sometimes I tease him for his mercy and compassion, but… I wish I had it. I wish I could feel like how he feels. See how he sees. I think it’s better than what I’ve got, anyway.
“How are you?”  Imaginary Kai asked.
“I don’t know,” I tersely replied, making sure my voice was low enough to where I didn’t wake anyone, but not so low that it was an inaudible whisper.
“Are you okay?”
“No, but… That’s usually how it goes, and I’m still alive, I’m still around. I mean, what more do you want from me?”
“Do you want to be happy?”
“Yes, yes I do. It’s just… I have some things I want to do and I can’t do any of it, which is… not the best thing ever, but it’s what I have right now, so there’s that.”
“What do you want to do with your life?”
I never did like this question, and Imaginary Kai always asked this during our sessions. It was… it was tough for me to answer. I shuffled uncomfortably a bit in my position, rubbing one of my plasma rifles.
“I want to be a writer.” Gods, those words came out like nails. It almost felt like Imaginary Kai pried those words out of my mouth. Saying that was almost begging for mockery, ridicule. Why would a Sangheili be a writer? What good is that on the battlefield? What good is poetry, or letters, or stories? Who in our day and age would read a book about adventure? For some reason, I always awaited for some sort of remark or rebuke from Imaginary Kai, as if he was a real Sangheili, but no. There was none of that. There would probably be none of that from Actual Kai as well, but I could never risk that. I couldn’t risk the probability that he’d react like a normal Sangheili. There wasn’t that big of a probability, but there was a chance, and that was always a non-starter for me. It always is with everything between me and him. I don’t even know why I’m recording this, then. But… I feel like I should. Maybe… maybe I guess, deep down, I’d like for Kai to find out somehow, and then he just pulls me aside and he says to me in a low voice, “I know Mik. I know, and I think it’s okay. It’s okay Mik. I’m with you.”
Of course this isn’t just about writing. It’s about other things. So many other things. I don’t want to talk about them now, though. Maybe later, but not now. Definitely not now.
Anyway, Imaginary Kai continued.
“What do you want to write about?”
“Adventures across the stars. A hero from simple origins, with a pure heart and rough exterior, helping people in need. I’d like to write about that. But I can’t write. Not well, at least. And for some reason I just can’t find time. Most days, I’m a warrior. I just fight. That’s the only thing I can do. Fight. Kill. Destroy. It’s a way to live, I suppose. I’m not particularly skilled at being a warrior though. I find it hard most days to follow orders. Oftentimes I just act independently, even with Kai. I’ve been reprimanded several times now. I don’t even know where I’m going. What I’m doing.”
“You feel lost, then?”
“I suppose.”
There was a long silence. I stared at the running waters in the valley below for what seemed like eons. The breeze died down, and the leaves stopped rustling.
“But you know… we can’t everything we want in life, can we?”
“Is it everyone else? Or is it you?”
“You mean, ‘whose fault is it?’ Probably mine, but I’d like to think it’s not my fault for once in my life. I’d like to think that actually, this time, it’s beyond my control. Although, in all honesty, for most of my life I’ve felt like everything is beyond my control. Beyond me. It’s kind of exhausting.”
“So… what are you going to do?”
“I just… I’m tired.”
Then I spotted an object in the night sky in the distance. It got closer and closer, and then I saw that it was a Phantom, coming to pick us up. I woke everyone up, and it whisked us back to the forward operating base ten quvars to the north.
For quite some time, nobody knew about my sessions with Imaginary Kai, not even the real man himself, and I was just fine with that.
Category:The Weekly