Family of Man

No. I refuse to believe it. I absolutely did not accept those answers for one second. My anger and frustration became more outwardly evident as I rip clothes from my dresser and toss them unceremoniously into an open bag on my bed.

“Vash,”

I hear Sam’s tired voice behind me. I know he knows I’m raging on the inside and I know he know that I’m going, and that nothing will change my mind. He knows there’s no way he can stop me from trying to track him down. He knows that I did not buy the stupid Defense’s claim that Miguel was simply “lost near Salvair”. 

Miguel. 

Dear, wonderful Miguel. 

The smartest, kindest, most resourceful and savvy man I know, also my godfather and Sam’s father. And not to mention the best pilot the Jovett Defense has had in centuries.

And those inept, simple-minded Defense officers are all here trying to tell me it was some fluke, some “uncharted debri”, that led to the “unfortunate loss of contact and subsequent dismissal of further rescue efforts”.

Well I know damn well that it wasn’t. And Sam knows it too, much as he may try to deny it. The Jovett Defense has been corrupt for years and there have always been whispers about coverups and defenders going missing in seemingly harmless action.

“Sam,” I turn to face him. “He’s not dead. He would never crash. He’s knows what he’s doing up there. And you’re not really buying that bullcrap about uncharted debri? There’s no such thing as uncharted debri. Our satellites pick up everything!”

 I turn back to my mess of clothes. 

“No. This was something else,” I spit. “But don’t worry. We don’t need help from them. I’ll find him, and I’ll bring him home.”

“Vashti,”

His pained tone makes me turn back to face him and I see him running his hands down his face. Indignation flares in my chest.

“What, you think they’re telling the truth?” I demand.

Sam lets out a sigh. “No, but..”

“So then what are we waiting for? We need to bring him home! And it looks like we’re the only ones who can.”

He looks uneasily at the floor.

“Sam,” 

He looks up and I step towards him.

“I’m not going to let anything else happen to this family.”

After a few moments of silence he says, “I’m going with you.” 

“I know,” I reply, knowing very well that he would never stay if I left. We always stick together, him and I.

After another pause, he says, “What if we can’t find him?”

“We will.” I say and  I vow to myself to do whatever it takes to find my beloved godfather and reunite him with his son. In my experience, families do each other better when they’re together.

I turn back to him with a steely face, “We will.”

~

“You know, I think I liked it better when you couldn’t fly,” I say to Sam as we whiz past Mariin Market and speed through the Taiyang Forest. 

“What are you talking about? I can fly.”

“Not well.”

The mood has lightened some since we left the house, but it still hangs over us like a giant storm cloud, threatening to thunder and rain.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam quips. “This is fun.” He dips our ship closer to the ground and even though I’m not looking at him, I know he just narrowed his eyes and readjusted his grip on the controls, as he does every time we discuss his dreadful flying and he tries (and fails) to convince me otherwise.

“And you’ve also managed to hit almost every tree we’ve passed.” I smile when, as soon as I finish talking, he shaves the top of an evergreen clean off.

“Well sometimes staying one height just isn’t interesting enough. You got to shake it up baby! (except he said it like “Ya gotta shak it up ba-be!” and started shimming in his seat. He was grinning now too).

“Well sometimes not crashing is nice too you know.”

“I won’t crash.”

“You could.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “This is in my blood.”

A lull fell. There are never any awkward moments with Sam, but it’s a reminder of the tedious and emotional task we’ve set out to do. But instead of feeling the anger that had dominated my emotions back home, I only feel scared. Not scared that the Defense might have told the truth, but scared that maybe that part didn’t matter and maybe my dear godfather really was lost forever.  I begin nervously running the pads of my thumbs over my fingernails. 

“Hey.” 

I look up at Sam’s voice. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He sounds more confident that I feel, considering how sure I was when we left home.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. You were right before. We’re going to find him.”

He face has turned serious and determined and his jaw tightens. I can see a crinkle on the outsides of his eyes. He’s looking forward now, but I know him very well and my heart starts to swell. It occurs to me that in my haste to prove my grief away, I’ve forced Sam to swallow his as well. I look back at him with a lump in my throat.

“Sam,”

“No. You were right.” His voice almost catches, but he stills it. “And, I need this too.” 

We have begun to slow down as we prepare to land. We stop completely and hover for a moment, then touch down on the dark soil between a small village (called Ima according to our satellite) and a Salvairian research facility.

Sam unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at me. I look back and give a small nod. He reciprocates and we prepare to disembark. The hatch door opens and we tromp out, our boots squelching in the damp ground.

“Which way?”

“The village I suppose,” I say, still scrolling through Salvinair news reports from the past few days, scanning for any discovered remains of a Jovett Defense cruiser. So far, there has been nothing. “We can ask if they’ve seen anything.”

He nods and we begin to trek across the dirt to the town. A bit out of nowhere, I hear a shuttle approaching overhead. It’s coming from the research facility. And it’s coming towards us. 

Sam and I stop and watch it as it circles us once and then lands by our ship. I hear the hiss as the doors open and a woman glides out. She is in all black, save for a long white trench coat, and her dark hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail low on her neck. She walks towards us, quickly filling the short distance between us. I can see now as she gets closer that she’s very young, not much older than Sam and I. She stops several paces in front of us and fixes her crystal green eyes on the two of us. When she speaks, her voice is low, but confident and silky.

“Am I to understand that you two are the wards of Captain Miguel Porta of the Jovett Region?” Sam and I glance at each other.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“Dr. Ronnie Mae Alston.” She quickly appraises both of us, looking back and forth a few times, before a half smile curls across her face and her chocolate eyes twinkle with restrained amusement.

“Wonderful. If you would follow me please.” She turns and starts walking back towards her shuttle.

Sam and I look at each other again but don’t move.

“You know where Captain Porta is?” Sam half-shouts after her. 

She pauses and turns back to us, her face impassive.

“Yes,” she says. “And Her majesty is expecting you.”