Memories of Kayan

As the doors of the landing ship opened and the dim light from Kayan’s sun poured in, Bernard squinted. He hoped upon opening his eyes, he would see a beautiful landscape, lush and green, not like the devastated war zone he had left thirty years ago. As his vision adjusted, he sighed. It was an improvement, but still barren. Only the thinnest blades of grass would wisp in the breeze. Otherwise it was mud and rocks. He shivered. Maybe it was better in the summer time. Why did his return have to come in late October?

He exited the ship and looked for a sign of someone who was expecting him. Anyone. But there was nothing. That was odd, he thought. They know I’m coming.

Wading through the mud towards the village, he came across what seemed like a hotel that was offering vacancies. He was grateful they used the same currency as the majority of the galaxy, so he paid and made a hasty move towards the room. Just as he suspected, it was dingy, hadn’t been cleaned in a few days, and the mattress was just a tiny bit wet. It would do. He needed somewhere to rest until he could make sense of where he was going and what he was supposed to be doing here. Still, despite everything, Kayan Minor was looking better then it had the last time he was here. Maybe this time he could get a night’s sleep without bombs shaking him awake.

# # #

When humanity had finally spread outside the Earth and fully terraformed the solar system, it was inevitable that future generations would keep expanding outward. Once the technology was available to all the nations, a territory grabbing rush was on. The largest of the nations could claim entire solar systems for themselves, while the smaller ones who lacked the resources for that could only take a planet or even a moon. The superpowers of the galaxy dominated the scene, often sweeping the smaller governments or kingdoms up in their affairs, and many times using the circumstances to their advantage and completely consuming the smaller powers. Many of the smaller nations tried their best to keep out of those situations through minimal contact with the largest of the empires, only to see that strategy backfire when they truly needed the help of a powerful ally.

Among the smallest of the nations to stake their claim in the galaxy was the Kayan Empire. Through the real estate rush as humanity spread into space, they were able to manage claiming two planets, which were simply named Kayan Major and Kayan Minor. “The Kayans” as they came to be called were hardly worth noticing to the juggernauts in their vicinity, and therefore avoided most of the tensions that came along with notoriety. This did mean, however, that when trouble came they had few friends to turn to.

Seven hundred years of internal dissension finally broke out into a full civil war on Kayan Minor. Nearly half the population chose to stay loyal to the Kayan government, while over half joined in with the rebellion. Lines of demarcation formed throughout the planet as armies met one another in battle, with civilians taking any opportunity to flee into their preferred side’s territory. Neither side wanted to admit it, but they were each desperate. A full scale war would drain their already meager resources, and thus desperate measures were necessary. Both Kayan and the rebels began courting the assistance of the larger nations. Voh Terra was the first to reply to Kayan’s plea. Their first response was a huge shipment of medical supplies and personnel, something which Kayan was in desperate need of.

Bernard Roe was 24 years old and had just completed his studies at medical school. Before he had the opportunity to get started in a proper practice, he found himself drafted and aboard the first wave of medical aid being sent to Kayan Minor. There was no time for training. He would have to learn as he went.

# # #

All through the night he was plagued with memories. PTSD from his years in war had scarred him, but revisiting the site of his first war was reawakening the fear more than anything else had ever managed to. He cursed the day he accepted an invitation back. But the question of *why* he was invited back, thirty years later, bothered him enough to motivate his acceptance of the trip.

Asker Patlama, one of the rebel leaders in the civil war, had sent word to Bernard, begging him to visit Kayan. No explanation. Bernard was hesitant. He had encountered Asker Patlama only once, and he was looking down the barrel of Asker’s rifle the entire time. The Kayan rebels had stormed the hospital, dragging Asker’s wounded brother behind, dropped him on a table, and demanded he be treated. Bernard had tried to politely explain that you don’t need to threaten a doctor to get someone treated, they will do it anyway. Before he could finish the sentence, the butt of Asker’s rifle hit him across the face. Bringing himself back to his feet, Bernard opted to not address the man any further, but rather begin the needed operation.

Outside the hospital walls, the war drew closer. The medical staff en masse began to evacuate themselves and the wounded to safer areas, but Bernard remained behind with Asker Patlama and the young wounded man. Hours later, Bernard declared the operation a success. Asker waited until his brother was conscious and left the hospital with him in tow.

Since then, Bernard had not seen the man again, though he had heard of him. For the following thirty years, Asker’s name had been tossed around the media networks, some hailing him as a defender of freedom and the Kayan people, others lambasting him as a terrorist and a force for evil in the galaxy. To then receive a message from this man, *begging* Bernard to visit … the curiosity was overwhelming.

He departed his hotel room and made for the demilitarized zone between the regular Kayan Minor government and the rebels. It was difficult to find passage, especially since fighting still broke out regularly along the line. He eventually had to take the final two miles on foot. Two miles of shivering through the cold breeze and mud, until he finally began to see the burned out remnants of an old city. Şehir. He had lost many good friends in the fighting here.

“Halt!” came a cry from the road. Bernard hadn’t even noticed him. The guard was slim, almost starving. And young. Probably a teenager. The gun was shaking ever so slightly in his hands. Off to his side was another, unarmed youth, perhaps only a year or two younger. “Stand back!”

“Well that’s rude,” Bernard replied, moving closer. “You haven’t even asked who I am or what I’m here for.”

“I said *back*!” cried the young man, his finger trembling over the trigger.

“Acting awfully tough for someone with only a gun to protect himself,” Bernard continued as he came within six feet of the kid.

“I don’t need anything else when I got-”

His words were cut short as Bernard lunged forward and in a single motion grabbed the gun with his left hand while shoving the youth onto the ground with his right.

“Yes you do,” he answered the stunned guard. “Your type makes me sick. Acting tough just because you have a weapon in your hand. And look at you. Sniveling on the ground once it’s taken from you. If you’re pathetic without a weapon then you’re pathetic with one, maybe more so. You!” he shouted, gesturing towards the other child guard, “I’m here to see Asker Patlama. Go find him.”

“Patlama?” the other asked in terror. “I’ve never met him. I don’t know where he would-”

“Then maybe you should go look.”

The younger guard turned and ran. Bernard sat on the ground, still holding the rifle by its butt. The fallen guard continued staring in terror, slowly getting up, and finally fleeing the site.

Hours passed. Then he heard footsteps approaching. A squad of ten men, armed but with weapons holstered, motioned to him.

“Bernard Roe?”

“Yes.

“Please come with us.”

They marched their way through miles of ruins until at last they reached a partially rebuilt city. After sending Bernard through repeated security checks, he was led underground into a well adorned bunker.

“My old friend!” came a familiar, though aging, voice.

“Friend?” Bernard replied, surprised.

“Of course,” Asker Patlama answered, rising to greet Bernard. “Please sit.”

Bernard found a cushion resting against a wall and took it. “I only met you the once.”

“Yes,” Patlama said. “Just the once. But you treated me with civility. Everyone else I’ve ever known has treated me as a criminal or has been civil out of fear. You did so out of humanity.”

“You gauge a lot from people I take it.”

“I like to think so. And you saved my brother. A kindness for which I never thanked you.”

“Whatever became of him?”

Ah,” he said with sadness. “Two months later he was killed in action. Fighting for our future.”

“My condolences,” Bernard replied, only half genuine. The room fell silent for a long while. “So if you don’t mind my asking,” he continued, “why the sudden invitation?”

“Because I am dying. And I want to settle accounts with everyone I can.”

“You have no account to settle with me.”

“Ah, but I do. I already said how I never thanked you for saving my brother.”

“I was only doing my job.”

“That may be, but I still owe you a debt. Please tell me what gift I can offer to make us equal.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“Nothing?”

“No,” Bernard answered, getting weary of the conversation. “I’m old now. I’ve lived my life. I’ve been through so much I can hardly keep my own life straight. All I seek is peace with the time I had remaining.”

“You have many good years ahead of you. More than I have, certainly.”

“I hope so. But there’s nothing I need in that time.”

“I have garnered many riches I can give you.”

“Don’t need it. Inherited a family fortune. Barely used it.”

Asker thought a moment. “What about that nurse?”

Bernard looked up. “Who?”

“There was a nurse. When you were working on my brother. The explosions kept coming closer. There was a nurse who you seemed more concerned with than anything else. Whatever happened to her?”

Bernard smiled sadly. “I married her.”

Asker clapped his hands with joy.

“And then she died.”

“Ah.”

“She and our daughter. Same day.”

Once more the room fell into silence.

“How old was your daughter?” Patlama asked.

“She had just turned seventeen. She was beginning to start her own life. Looking into education and a career. She had her first boyfriend.”

Asker Patlama raised his hand. “And what happened to him?”

Bernard shrugged. “After the funeral I never saw him again.”

Patlama nodded to himself. “I know how I will repay you.”

“Oh?”

“This is my gift to you. A command: go and find the boy.”

“How is that meant to be a use to me?”

“For one very important reason. You knew your daughter. He knew your daughter. But you did not know the same person. Find this boy and talk to him. Ask him who your daughter was. Who he saw her as. I promise you that you will know your daughter better. And what you learn of her will be what you can keep with you for the rest of your life.”

# # #

Simon Mwana ran downstairs to answer the door. “Can I help you?” he asked with some irritation. He had no idea who this guy was.

“Simon Mwana?” the old man asked him.

“Yes, what do you-” he paused as the memories came back. “Doctor Roe?”

He nodded in response.

“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since … in a long time.”

“Honestly I just … I just wanted to know how you were getting on. And to ask you … um, is there any place we could sit?”

# # #

Hours passed as the two men sat on a park bench.

“… and do you remember how excited she was when the scholarships started pouring in?”

“Her mother and I couldn’t believe how many options there were. We always thought highly of her, but she exceeded our expectations.”

“And then she was *extremely* disappointed when she didn’t make the school band.”

“She what? I didn’t know she even tried that!”

“Yeah … she was always … how to put this … she thought highly of you, and she wanted to live up to your expectations, so she never told you she was trying out for band. She didn’t want you to know in advance, because if she failed, she’d have to tell you about it. So she told me she was keeping it secret unless she got in.”

Bernard shook his head and laughed. “That little brat.”

“Don’t worry about it. She wasn’t afraid of you. She only wanted you to know the best about her.”

“No. I know.”

Bernard hung his head and thought.

“I still go occasion,” Simon continued. “To her grave. She was a huge part of my life. Not as much as yours, obviously, but still … losing her was the worst pain I’ve ever felt.”

“Yeah…”

Sun reflected off the pond in front of them, with only the sound of ripple emanating around them.

“I wish I’d kept up with you since,” Bernard said. “If only to hear about this side of her.”

Simon nodded, then laughed. “Hey, did she ever tell you about the time…”

# # #

The news was abuzz. Asker Patlama, leading figure of the Kayan revolution, was dead from unknown causes. Okain Studios was already pushing a far reaching conspiracy theory about Patlama being assassinated at that it was surely about to lead to a new war.

Bernard hit mute to silence the nonsense. The screen was showing the last known photo of Patlama, emaciated from his illness.

“Thanks old friend,” Bernard whispered. “We’re square.”

END