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  In life, Blix had been a wonderful companion—extremely intelligent and capable of empathy in a way most animals weren’t. How many times had Far cuddled him close when the world where he was an outcast and a freak became too much? How often had he felt that rough little tongue gently clean away his tears while his friend comforted him the only way he could?

  But there was no comfort to be found in the stiff, lifeless form in his arms. No comfort to be found anywhere anymore. Even his family wished him dead. Maybe he should grant their wish…

  “What is he doing?” Becca asked softly as the younger Far laid Blix gently down on his pillow and got off the bed. “Where is he going?”

  “To get something.” Far’s throat was too tight to say more.

  “To get what?” Truth growled softly. He turned to look at Far. “Brother, you said that this memory was not as bad as what the Mindscape showed Rebecca and myself but I think you are wrong. To lose your one companion and hear that your family, the ones who should have cared for you most—”

  “Blix was just a pet,” Far interrupted, forcing the words out. “That’s all. Just a pet.”

  “He was more than that,” Becca said gently, looking at the little heap of fur on the pillow. “He was the only one who loved you unconditionally. The one you always knew cared. The one you could go to when life got hard.”

  “It was always hard,” Truth said, still looking at him. “Wasn’t it? Being there—living on that place where everyone else had a brother and you had no one.”

  “I…” Far shook his head, his attention drawn away from Becca and Truth. His younger self had emerged from the storage unit where he had been rummaging around for some time. Apparently he had found what he was seeking.

  Becca made a low sound of horror.

  “What’s that in his hand?”

  “Some kind of a blaster, isn’t it?” Truth’s deep voice was grim.

  Far nodded, unable to speak as his younger self climbed back onto the sleeping platform beside his dead pet and contemplated the sleek, silver weapon.

  It seemed much too large for the hands that held it—the intent of that silent silver muzzle too deadly for a young adolescent.

  Far felt the calm despair of his younger self as he lifted the blaster and pressed the barrel to the side of his head.

  “No…oh, no!” Becca gasped. “This can’t be right! He’s—you’re so young. Where would you even get such a thing? How could you think of…of…”

  “Of ending the pain?” Far asked softly, still watching his younger self. “I thought of it a lot, Becca. That was why I stole my adopted father’s blaster in the first place. I never really thought I would use it but after losing Blix…” He shook his head. “I just wanted out.”

  “We have to stop this!” Becca exclaimed. “Hey, Far—stop!” she shouted at his younger self. The boy made no sound that he had heard her. “I…I want to go to him,” she gasped, struggling as though against unseen hands. “But I can’t.”

  “I can.” Truth rushed across the room and knelt before the sleeping platform. He was almost at eye level with the younger Far now and though it was clear the boy couldn’t hear him, he spoke anyway. “Don’t do this,” he said earnestly. “Stop now, Far. There is much to live for—much to see and do and find. You have…” He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You have to find Rebecca. And you have to find me.” He put a hand on the boy’s knee. “Come and find me, Brother. Whether I know it or not, I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Far felt his heart thud painfully as he watched the scene before him. How he had longed to hear such words from his estranged brother! He had never believed that Truth would admit to caring for him. Could it be that his dark twin was finally ready to have some kind of relationship? Or was he just reacting to the scene in front of him? To the pain and despair in the younger Far’s face—the pain and despair he could still feel, even all these years later?

  The unseen force holding Becca seemed to break and she rushed forward as well and gathered the boy into her arms.

  “Oh, Far,” she murmured. “Oh, baby, stop and think about this. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.”

  “I don’t think he can hear us.” Truth was still gazing at the adolescent Far in concern.

  “Then maybe he can feel us. Hug him,” Becca ordered the dark twin. “As tight as you can—try to make him feel it! He needs to know we care. He needs to know we’ll be waiting for him in the future.”

  “It’s just a memory—isn’t it?” But Truth did as he was told, sitting beside the younger Far and putting an arm around his shoulder gingerly. “I’m not much good with this, Brother,” Far heard him say. “I never learned to comfort…or to be comforted. But I want you to know this—you are loved.”

  “You are loved,” Becca repeated earnestly. “Oh, Far, you are loved so much, honey.”

  The young adolescent Far made no sign that he had heard their words but slowly he lowered the blaster. He held it in his lap and looked down at it as a single tear fell to its shiny silver surface.

  “Oh, thank God!” Becca looked ready to cry with relief. She hugged the boy even tighter.

  Far didn’t know if his younger self could feel her or not but strangely enough, he could. He could feel the pressure of her slim arms around his neck as well as Truth’s arm around his shoulders. He could feel…

  Far gave a muffled exclamation of surprise as the bedroom faded and he found himself suddenly in his younger self’s place, being held between Becca and Truth. The three of them were back on the bed, in the staging area where they had started, once again surrounded by the formless gray mist.

  “Far?” Truth looked confused. “What happened? Where are you—the younger you, I mean?”

  “Don’t you understand?” Becca asked, still keeping her arms firmly around Far’s neck. “He’s here—that scared, hurting boy is right here. Inside.” She tapped Far’s chest with her fingers. “Just like the little boy Far comforted still lives in you. And the girl that lost the man she was going to marry lives in me. Those memories are part of us—they made us who we are.”

  “You’re right.” Truth sat back, but kept an arm around Far’s shoulders.

  Far was grateful for the warmth and closeness. He dared to put an arm around his brother. With the other arm, he gathered Becca close.

  “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “Thank you both. Going through that again was…it was almost more than I could bear.”

  “But was that exactly how it happened?” Truth asked. “Apologies but I do not understand, Brother. What stopped you when you were about to use the blaster?”

  Far shook his head. “I don’t know. I just remember that the feeling of hopelessness somehow lightened and I somehow decided not to pull the trigger.” He shrugged. “I put the blaster back in my father’s storage unit and never took it out again. Instead, I started trying to learn more about the attack on our parents’ ship the night we were born.” He looked at Truth. “I guess that was when I started my search for you in earnest, Brother. Though I didn’t find you for years to come, I never completely lost hope again.”

  “Do you think you felt us?” Becca asked, her eyes wide. “Is it possible that this…” She gestured with one hand to the formless gray mist surrounding them. “All this that the Mindscape showed us really happened? That we weren’t just seeing memories?”

  Truth frowned. “I don’t know. Before we all relived these bad times, I would have sworn that the night we witnessed in my old home was the worst beating my father ever gave me. Now I seem to have another memory—one of a tall man with blond hair who made him stop and…” He cleared his throat. “And comforted me after.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what happened to your shirt though, Brother.”

  “Lost in the mists of time, perhaps,” Far said. He looked around. “So, is the tutorial over? Did we pass?”

  “We’re still here, aren’t we?” Truth growled. “If the tanks had dissolved us, don’t you think