MirrorWorld

I think for a moment. For the first time in a long time, my memory feels complete. I know that I’m Josef Shiloh, I remember my decisions, and the true sequence of events that led to the deaths in my family. I also remember my time as Crazy, and living in SafeHaven, where I learned how to be compassionate and patient with broken people, and not just Shotgun and Seymour. Everyone, I realized during my yearlong stint in the loony bin, is broken to some degree, including me. Most people contain it, or drown it, but other people, like Lyons, are masters at hiding it. In the end, Simon’s grandfather is really a man obsessed with war, whose very human fear of the unknown and childhood trauma at the hands of independently acting Dread pushed him to make a horrible mistake. It left him broken and has driven him to seek his own kind of retribution, blaming the Dread for his pain, both externally inflicted and self-inflicted. I’m not convinced the Dread aren’t a threat, but where there are no doubt countless shades of gray, Lyons only sees black and white.

I don’t know if the Dread mole buried beneath my feet can see me through those tentacles, but I nod anyway. “I remember.” My thoughts drift to the Dread bull memory at the Trinity nuclear test. “I remember everything.”

One of the tendrils stretches out toward me in a nonthreatening way. An outer layer of skin peels back, unleashing a mass of smaller tentacles, similar to a Medusa-hands but tipped in glowing purple rather than yellow. The snaking things come right up to my face and stop. I don’t flinch away, despite knowing what they’re capable of. “What do you want me to do?”

“Remember … more.”

“What else is there to remember?”

“History.”

I’m not positive, but I think it means their history. Dread history.

“Why didn’t you do this before?” I ask.

“You were still our enemy.”

“And now?”

“You remember.”

“I remember that you killed my son.” A twinge of anger surfaces, but not enough to propel me toward violence.

“We have known you for a long time, Josef Shiloh. We have watched the man who did not fear. Such a curious person. You understand war. How they’re started. And how they’re prevented. You have been a party to both in the past.”

The matriarch is right. My actions have both started wars and ended them. The … jobs I carried out affected thousands upon thousands of lives, both as a CIA killer and while working with Neuro.

“You are responsible for the deaths of many,” the Dread whispers. “But you now have the opportunity to save even more.”

Distant gunshots echo into the chamber from somewhere far away in the colony. My head snaps toward the chamber entrance, looking for danger and seeing none. The tendrils remain focused on me.

“If I remember…”

“Understanding is fear’s — and hatred’s — most powerful adversary … and it must be accepted willingly, not forced.” The tendrils spread open, awaiting me.

I’m having trouble accepting that this ancient enemy of humanity is being genuine. The Dread are monsters, in every sense of the word, horrible, ugly creatures that have plagued mankind from the shadows. But we are not much different in their eyes.

“And if I don’t?” I ask.

“You will lack the determination to do what you must, and both of our worlds will burn.”

“You’ll do it, won’t you?” I ask. “Nuke the world?”

I feel the yes more than hear it. “You have felt the network that connects us all,” the matriarch says. “You have seen what happens when a colony loses its matriarch.”

I remember it clearly. All of the Dread connected to it die.

“I am the oldest of the matriarchs. Every colony, as you call them, is connected to me. If my life ends before another ascends…”

“Your world ends.”

“I do not want to destroy your world, but … I will.”

“I get it,” I say. “Mutually assured destruction.” It’s the stalemate that has prevented World War III on multiple occasions. As bad as disagreements and hatred can be, no one wants to end all life on the planet. But the only way that works, is if both sides are actually willing to do it. If the matriarch feels its life — and all the Dread connected to it — is ending, it will, in turn, end humanity.

“I know it doesn’t change anything,” I say, “but I’m sorry. For what I did. For the colony I—”

“These are the harsh realities of the world we share. Conflict. Death. War. We will move beyond them eventually, but for now we must both accept what has happened and move forward.”

“Forgiveness,” I say.

“Yes.”

I see my son. My parents and Hugh. I remember the way they made me feel, and the emptiness their departures left in my soul. But the matriarch shares this pain and more. Without either of us speaking a word, a weight lifts away.

“It is done,” the matriarch says.

I glance at Maya. She’s just watching, still lucid, almost hopeful. She’s still gaunt and weak, but the look in her eyes … I see clarity.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

She looks a little unsure, which, given her surroundings is understandable. “Better, I think.”