Science Fiction: A Single Act of Mercy
In a bonus story at the end of Origin of Pietas, Six asks Pietas a loaded question.
Side by side with Pietas, I walked across the planet Sempervia. There were places so punishing we didn’t have the breath to speak. Pi never once complained, but with his bad shoulders, I could tell climbing hand-over-hand hurt. I routed us around obstacles when I could. It added a lot of distance, but there were also times we had no choice but to go up and over.
That trip taught us how to work together. I had to learn to let him flounder until he realized he was stuck and needed help. The first time he reached out for my hand, I felt prouder than I had getting any medal. I got those for getting others out of a life-threatening situation. That Pietas trusted me to get him out of one meant so much more.
But we also spent peaceful days on a river. We lashed logs together to make a raft, which worked great, until we reached rapids. Trust me, once we dived off that thing, it ended up in splinters. But while we were on it, safely floating in calm waters, we had nothing else to do but fish and talk.
First time I’d ever seen Pi speechless was on that raft.
Sun glinted on the water and bounced back into our eyes. The Sempervian sun treats no one kindly. If we hadn’t built a makeshift lean-to, we’d have both been sunburnt. Yeah, we’d have healed overnight, but then we’d burn again the next day. It took days to adapt. Best thing about being a ghost is gaining the abilities of the person whose blood is in your veins. Mine did okay with sunshine, but not so great with anything else.
The heat bore down on our heads, despite the shelter we’d rigged. But the pitiless sun prompted me to ask Pietas if he had ever taken pity on humans.
He looked away, shaking his head, then turned back to me. “Actually, there was one time.”
“I’m glad there’s at least one. Tell me about it.”
Pietas sat there for a full minute, trailing one hand in the water. Finally, he shook off the droplets and faced me fully. I can still see him sitting cross-legged on that raft, the sun on his white hair almost as blinding as the silver water propelling us forward. A few clouds scudded in front of the sun, giving us a momentary reprieve from heat.
He sucked in a deep breath, like he was gathering strength before climbing uphill. “It had to be about six hundred years ago. Another endless battle. We were mercenaries and we’d been called in to clean up a last group of rebels. What we found was a destroyed village with no inhabitants, but our intel had been good up until then, so I commanded my troops to pair up and fan out. We heaved fallen walls and doors out of the way, but found no one. I was about to give up when I noticed a metal sheet that looked like it had been part of a wall in a factory. Heavy.”
“Go on.”
“I went to the edge of the sheet. Couldn’t see behind it, so I aimed my weapon, gave a kick, and knocked it over.” The breeze blew Pietas’s hair into his eyes and tucked it behind his ears. “As I’d thought, natives were hiding behind it. I readied my weapon, but then stopped. Stood back.”
“Why?”
“They weren’t armed. Weren’t combatants. It was a young mother cradling twins of about four or five years old. A boy and a girl. Six, I stood there. I don’t know how long. All the while the three looked up at me in terror.”
“You thought of your mother.”
He nodded. “Seeing them propelled me back to my childhood. When my father would go away to gather supplies, Mother would let us play outside, against his wishes. It was a walled compound, but he wanted us hidden indoors. Always.”
I could tell this was painful for him, so I waited, letting him tell it on his own time.
“Father returned early one day, and Mother realized he’d catch us outdoors. She hid with us behind the wall of a shed, holding us close so we’d be quiet. Pietas stiffened as if reliving the moment. “He grabbed my mother by her hair and dragged her out into the courtyard. Kicked her again and again.”
“Oh, Pi... You must’ve been scared to death.”
“No.” Pietas shifted position, and the raft dipped one corner into the water. “I was never afraid of my father. I hated him too much to let fear stop me. I tried to pull him away, but he backhanded me and threw me halfway across the courtyard. When he reached for Dessy, I went after him again. Bit him on the leg. He dropped Dessy and focused on me after that.”
I let out a string of swear words.
“I have no real memory of what he did to me, but a few months later, Mother finally convinced him to let us outside for some sun. I remember Dessy walking around, head tilted up, joy on her face. Me? I kept one eye on my father and the other on my sister. Didn’t enjoy a minute of it. My father took us out after that, taught us how to fish and hunt, but one at a time and never out of his sight. This planet...” Pietas gestured around him. “Most freedom in the sun I’ve ever known.”
Clear as if he said it out loud, I heard his thoughts. I’m safe here.
That the man I’d been sent to kill trusted me... I had no words for how that boosted my spirits. At that moment, if you’d put a crown on my head I couldn’t have felt more pride. “So... what happened to the mother and her kids?”
“I slung the weapon across my back and held up my hands in a sign of peace. The woman trembled like I’d aimed at her instead. I called my aide and had him come and take them into protective custody. Told him to make sure they got fed and relocated to a safe region. Always wondered what happened to them, but I never looked.”
“You know, there’s an old story in my family that gets told whenever there’s a reunion. None of us ever believed it. It was all about how my great-great-however-many-times grandmother and her twins were spared after a battle by the mighty Pietas.”
Pietas is not tan. He’s many shades lighter than I am, but I swear he got paler.
“What you thinkin’, Pi?”
He sat there staring, silent for the longest time. “They were your ancestors?”
“Yep. By sparing them, you made it possible for me to be born. She spawned your worst enemy.”
“No. You’re not my worst enemy, Six.”
I thought, oh, great! Way to insult someone. But if the one responsible for him suffering in that pod wasn’t his greatest enemy, then who was?
The sun moved out from behind the clouds. With his white hair, Pietas glowed like he was the source of light itself.
Pietas shielded his eyes.”I don’t see you as my foe at all.” He gazed at me as if he could see every thought in my head. “You are my greatest—” He looked away, toward the endless water. “friend.”
Power demands obedience.
Friendship asks something far more dangerous.
Bringer of Chaos
Series page: https://kayelleallen.com/chaos-series/
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I love this story! “Friend” is such an ordinary word we use every day and here it’s the biggest thing Pietas can possibly say.
So true. Such a simple act, with such far-reaching consequences.
We never know the long-term outcomes of our choices. That’s something to remember, when we’re face with the option of being kind or cruel.
Great story!
You spoke the truth there, Lisabet!
What a beautifully poignant and layered excerpt—the contrast between the harsh, punishing planet and the profound, quiet vulnerability growing between Six and Pietas is breathtaking.
Your words touched my heart, Maggie. Thank you.