The Half-Ghosts: Aether's Half

Ch. 7: An All Epiphany

We waited, the words out of my mouth now for good. Father still smiled at us, affable as always, but the smile flickered. He took a smallish bident out of his arm and teased a little of the spectricity off Hemmett's arm, and then mine, twirling the bident to capture it, like someone gathering spaghetti on a fork. Then he held it in front of his face and regarded it.

"Is that all you wanted to ask? You've gotten yourselves all worked up over that?"

All. He'd said it twice. What we really wanted to ask, even more than if he was a god--was he, in fact, the spirit god known as the All?

Hemmett seemed then to read my mind. I don't know; he probably actually read my mind.

"The All, Father. Are you the All?"

Father grinned at us and then turned to see Reid and Serafina also in the room.

"Oh, hello, Reid! Got some interesting books there? Say, is that Heather's first book? You know, she wrote that when she was only fifteen--and a mortal! It's quite a spiritualist classic."

Reid nodded, and held the book a little closer. He still seemed to think someone might take it.

"Hello Serafina! It's nice to see you again! And I hope you've found something interesting as well. Isn't that the same book? Well, we do have an interest in early spiritualist experiences around here. I could recommend a few more books on the subject--quite a few more that Heather's written, including essays. I've also got some fascinating lectures. I'm sure they're in here somewhere."

He reached into his chest, sifting through his kriot, but stopped when Hemmett and I stared at him.

"Father!"

I glided over to him and put my hand on his arm. He slowly withdrew it from his kriot and let it hang limp and empty by his side.

"Our question, Father. Won't you answer us? Don't make us go to someone else."

He sighed enormously, but this time, nobody moved to catch it, not even me. Then he sat down on the air, so we could see his coattails hanging beneath him. He crossed his legs and put one hand to his temple, tapping his finger against it.

"Am I a god, children? Well, you're hardly children now. Perhaps I should phrase it like this. Am I a god, Hemmett and Aether? The answer is complicated. The short answer is no. Not at this juncture. I am not a god, nor am I the All."

No! So I'd been right! I gave Hemmett a smug smile as my spectricity began to die down, absorb back into my ectoplasm. Hemmett frowned with disappointment. Seer or no, he couldn't be right about everything. So much for being infallible.

"What do you mean, 'not at this juncture'?" Hemmett persisted. "Father, we need to know. This affects us!"

"I promised your mother that we'd all have this talk together," said Father. "But she's helping your Uncle Sam today, so I suppose--there's a few things I could say. But you must both remember exactly what I tell you so that we can have a family talk about this."

"Of course."

We both nodded and agreed.

"I'll write it all down," Reid said, holding up a pen over his orange notebook. "I'll take notes."

"Thank you, my boy. That sounds most helpful," said Dad.

Then he stood up on the air, his back stiff as a poker, and I rolled my eyes at Hemmett, because we both knew what that meant. His lecturing stance. We'd wanted to know, but unfortunately, now that meant we'd have to endure one of Dad's unending lectures.