Zion

28 - Epilogue of Book I

The final installment of Zion Book I.

I turn the TV off by touching the glassed-screen on my side—they serve as the controllers. “We're here, Sire,” Nanski informs me as soon as silence overcomes the annoying news. I just nod at him. Ever since my announcement of abandoning the Shield, media news flashes in and out, some are good but most are not. There is no such thing as good news nowadays.

Nanski goes out first to open the door for me. I fix my tie while getting out, and proceeds to the familiar mansion of General Smith. The three-storey home is attractive on its own way, its color is brilliant green with a touch of pale white. I'm fond of neon colors but, I think it's not good for a mansion.

The door opens right after Nanski rings the bell. A woman with tunic dress welcomes us, then she guides us to the parlor room. “Please wait here for a moment, Mr. President.”

I sit on a comfy couch and Nanski stands by the side. Momentarily, the attendant returns with the person of interest, Miss Elena Smith.

“Hello, Nathan. Or shall I say Mr. President?” There is a forced smile on her lips. Under her eyes are dark bags, forming visibly. She must have been crying since the General's funeral.

I smile sourly at Elena who offers a hand to shake with mine, I grab it.

I tell her, “Nathan will do. I'm sorry to disturb you when you're still grieving.”

“No, it's okay. Who am I to refuse a President's visit?” She replies, finding her share on the seat.

“It's only for the meantime. Soon enough, when Panes is ready, people have to elect in a proper way.”

“There's no other eligible for that position. Anyway, what brings your here?” She asks, her purple eyes are directed at me, inquiring but sad.

Elena Smith got her entire complexion from her father. Her eyes though hiding behind the artificial lenses, have a perfect resemblance to the deceased general.

I clear my throat first before I say, “Your father has instructed me to look over you.”

There is a quick pause from her. “I'm not a kid anymore that needs to be pampered.”

“Nothing of the sort.”

“Then why are you here?”

I look at her seriously. “We need you in the Headquarters, Elena.”

Her eyes widen in shock rather than surprise. “What? Is this some sort of a prank?”

“No. Listen well, Panes need you, Elena Smith. I'm here to recruit you.”

***

“The operation is successful, Mr. President,” Dr. White tells me when I get back to the Headquarters. She's the personal eye doctor of President Gana before. Now she is serving the public.

“Can I see her?” I ask.

“Yes. But she's still unconsious.” She replies as she guides me towards the private room, where Miss Yolanda is comfortably settled. We enter the spacious room and I see the patient lying on a white bed. A bandage is carefully wrapped around her eyes. “Vasanti's been here a moment ago.”

I look at her for quite some time, just silent. I'm glad that her operation is a success—of course the General would feel the same if he were alive.

I sigh while reminiscing the conversation I had with General Smith.

“Get a pen, Nathan. Write this up.” General Smith told me while offering me a piece of white paper, on the letterhead was his own mark. It was the day before we set off to the North borders for the war.

I took out my golden pen as I grabbed the paper. Then I was waiting for his next command. Only that it was something I did not expect.

“I, Michael Smith, pledge to give my eyes to the following person if I die in the battle.”

“What? General, what are you saying?” My eyes spanned into sudden confusion.

“I'm not done yet. Just write it up.” He told me in a more commanding voice. Despite having the difficulty to digest it, I obeyed him. He added, “The person's name is Yolanda Sioka.”

I wrote what he told me, but I looked at him with disbelief, waiting for his explanation. When he didn't give any, I took courage to ask him. “You can't be like this, General, it's like you're saying that this is your last battle. But more importantly, why donate your eyes to Yolanda?”

“It's my gift to Zion. I didn't thank him properly when he saved my daughter ten years ago.”

“But General! He's a machine! Yolanda is someone you don't even know.”

“Just because he's a machine doesn't mean I don't have to thank him.”

“But why Yolanda?”

“I don't know. Maybe it's because she's the first female that Zion has endured to be with for quite longer—without having to yell. Or maybe I just want her to see the world, like my daughter's. Whichever it is, Zion will know it's my gift. If he were a human, we could have been great friends too, and great soldiers.”

I strengthen my pose and turn towards Dr. White. I give her a thankful nod before I say, “Please notify me when she's awake.”

“As you command, Sire.” Dr. White bows a little. Then I exit the room.

Inside my thought, I look forward to meeting Zion again.

END