visited Brenito, who had made the request for a visit. And he said I ought to start looking around âfrom the outside in.â â
âAnd we are one of the farthest towns out. So you came here?â
A shaft of light caught the dark, lean face, seemingly huddled down in the shelter of the coatâs high collar.
âHere. And of the thousand doors it seemed right to knock on that of your house.â
âWell, Vero, I hope it was.â
âI feel it was. I feel that we are to be friends.â
âYes, I think it will prove to be so.â
He led Vero up a narrow brick path that wound round onto a footbridge that brought them high along the side of the hill so that they looked down over the spired and steepled houses. The only illumination now lay in the directed-downward light of the active yellow strips that switched themselves on as they approached and off as they walked away. Above them they could see the stars flung out across the night sky. At the very top of the bridge, Vero put out a hand in front of Merral.
âMay we stop a moment please? I would like to see where Earth is.â
Merral pointed out where in the Milky Way, if they had had a telescope, they would have been able to see Sol. Vero was silent for some moments, then he leaned back against the brick parapet of the bridge and stared at Merral.
âSo much of your world I find familiar. Which is as it should beâthe Made Worlds are made to be as much like Earth as they can be. Then suddenly I catch a glimpse of something that reminds me where I am.â He shook his head. âAnd the stars do that all the time. It is almost overwhelming. I canât recognize a constellation. And no moon. Ever.â
âSorry, no visible moon. Just a small invisible Local Gate with enough mass to give the tides to stir our oceans. Thatâs all.â
âNo, itâs not the same. Our moon is something really special, Merral.â He sighed. âYes, I can believe those three-hundred-odd light-years now.â
He seemed to shudder. âAnd tomorrow is Nativity. Strange to think, Merral, this will be the first one I have had away from my family. And on this side of Ancient Earth I could not have gone much farther away. Actually, itâs the cold that I find odd. Nativity at home in Africa is always hot.â
For a moment Merral said nothing, trying to put himself in the otherâs shoes, imagining himself transported somewhere with a warm Nativity, strange languages, and alien stars. He could sympathize, and he reached out and put an arm around the stranger.
âI understand.â He paused, trying to think of the words. âAnd yet, friend Vero, if God is infinite what does three-hundred-odd light-years compare to the infinity that is his? And doesnât Nativity itself promise that we will have the Most High with us?â
Vero clasped his arm tightly in return. âYou are right, Merral. Iâm sorry for expressing myself that way. It was a mastery of my mind by my heart. Perhaps I should explainâitâs no excuseâthat we sentinels are supposed to be different. In our training we are encouraged to be sensitive, to be intuitive, to be able to listen to what others cannot hear, to see what others cannot see. And it takes its toll. Particularly after five Gates.â
Yes, Merral thought, I can see that it could. And yet, are you so different from me? Perhaps with your training I would be as you. Maybe the way of upbringing I have had has suppressed such feelings, or rather channeled them elsewhere. But deep down I have them, and if I too were all the worlds away from home tonight, then I might well feel as you feel.
âNo, I understand. I really do. But why are you trained that way? Sentinels are not exactly an important thing here. We know you watch and guard, but for what?â
Vero answered thoughtfully. âYour question is delicately ambiguous. âFor whatâ
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley