Jake sighed and stretched out, folding his arms, prickling with gooseflesh, across his chest. "Okay, let's get this over—"
Her lips were soft and warm on his, but not gentle. As he'd imagined far too many times than was good for his sanity, Rosemary's kiss was as fierce and passionate as she was, and after the initial shock had passed Jake responded. His arms wrapped around her small frame and pulled her close for a moment that was both long and timeless and far, far too short.
When she pulled back, he was shaking. She seemed completely composed, of course. She smiled and gave him a wink.
"You. Don't. Die," she said.
"Okay," he stammered. The grin was stupid and as unstoppable as the rotation of a planet. He sensed the protoss's confusion, annoyance, and humor, but none of that mattered.
We 're surviving this, Zamara.
I had no idea that a terran gesture of affection was such a powerful force, Zamara said wryly, but she was pleased for him. As Jake lay back and closed his eyes, he felt her wrap her essence around him like a cat curling up for a nap, and in the midst of his giddiness, he knew sorrow. Even if this attempt was completely successful, she would never be in his mind as she was now.
Iwill miss it too, she said, reading his thoughts even as he formed them. I had not expected to become so fond of you.
Me neither.
The slab beneath him was firm and cold, and then, all sensation of it was gone.
Jake opened his eyes to a scene of bright sunlight, steamy warmth, and an overabundance of green. He realized that he was on Aiur, but Aiur before its devastation and fall to the zerg. He turned and knew whom he would see, and smiled at Zamara.
She was clad in the clothing her corpse had worn: purple and white robes, shining and soft and suiting her admirably. She tilted her head and half closed her eyes, but he did not need to see her in order to feel her smile. They sat as they had done so many times before as Jake had watched the unfolding of one of the myriad memories Zamara kept. But this time, while this image of an untouched Aiur was a memory, Jake knew that he would not see anything else. This was how Zamara wanted their separation to occur.
He sensed Krythkal's thoughts, wafting to his mind like the scent of flowers on a breeze.
"The crystal is astoundingly pure. I think it will successfully contain all the memories."
"What about Jake?" Rosemary demanded. It was good that they would get whatever it was that Zamara was so insistent was important, of course, but her concern was Jake. He lay alarmingly still on the dark stone slab; she wasn't even sure he was breathing.
"I do not understand human anatomy, child," Krythkal chided her. "All I can do is remove Zamara's influence from him. You will
have to turn to your terran physicians after that. Now be silent, and let us complete this."
Rosemary frowned. She hadn't expected that. Somehow she'd thought that if they could extract Zamara, Jake would suddenly be right as rain. But his symptoms were physical, too, weren't they? Brain tumors didn't just disappear.
Krythkal extended his right arm and placed the crystal in midair as if he were setting it on a shelf. It hovered there, a miniature version of the huge crystal she'd seen in the caverns. Krythkal gave a signal, probably telepathic, and as one, each protoss extended his right hand and held it a centimeter from Jake's body. Their left hands, they raised, palms out, facing the crystal chip.
Rosemary hissed as they seemed to suddenly be pulling cool blue light from Jake's inert body. A moment later, a thin, glowing line extended from each alysaar's palm into the crystal. So that was how they did it. They physically took the energy of memories from the subject and transferred it into the crystal, like siphoning blood into ajar.
She didn't say anything, but couldn't help wondering if this was hurting Jake.
"No," came the thought from Krythkal. "He feels nothing."
Rosemary bit her lip. She had no idea how long this would take.. .but one thing she did know: Zamara had a lot of memories to transfer into that tiny little crystal.
"Beginning transference," came the implacable mental voice ofKrythkal. Zamara's body jerked slightly, as if something were tugging at her. It was going to work after all! Jake started to grin at Zamara, but instead of pleasure and relief he sensed shock and grief rolling off her. In that place that was not real but seemed very much so, he grasped her hand, touching her, making contact as he had once done before with her physical shell.
"Zamara, what is it? What's wrong?"
"I—should have anticipated this," she said. She squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. "But at least the knowledge will survive."
Coldness filled his gut. "What do you mean?"
She looked at him sadly. "What the dark templar have been able to do is admirable. It is important and worthy, and they record the memories as best they can. But the way they do it is different. Preservers are organic beings; they are not technology, which is what the dark templar utilize."
"I'm not following you."
"Do you remember how the memories unfolded when I shared them with you?"
He nodded. "I don't think I'll ever forget. It was like I was the person whose memories you were sharing. It was as if it was happening to me right at that moment."
"They lived, then," she said softly. "Through you. Through me. Through all preservers, when they delve into the waters of the memories we carry. Those who have gone before us do not cease to exist. We don't just remember them—we preserve them."
He nodded, still not seeing why this was so—
His eyes widened as understanding struck him. "Oh God... Zamara.. .you won't be preserved, will you?"
She shook her head. "No, Jacob. The memories I hold that the dead have experienced—all preservers have those memories. So they will live on, which is a relief to me—provided I am truly not the last preserver. But I and my memories.. .the knowledge will be saved, and that is important. But...I will not be saved. When others activate this crystal, it will be as if they are reading a history. It will be facts, and figures, and information. But they will not know me. It will be as if I had never existed."
The entire time he had known Zamara, she had been pragmatic and courageous. She had let slip frustration and worry from time totime, and as his condition had worsened, her affection for him had come through. But he had never seen her so vulnerable, so grieved. And he understood completely.
She would be erased. The information, blunt and lifeless, would survive, but all that was Zamara—her stubbornness, her dry humor, her love for her people, the depth of compassion and understanding that only a preserver could have experienced—would be lost to her people.
Zamara would be no more.
This was taking a long time. Rosemary began to fidget after she suspected only an hour had passed. Into the second hour, she could stand it no longer and rose as quietly as possible. Their eyes closed, their bodies as motionless as they had been since they had started, the protoss took no notice of her. With silent steps Rosemary moved toward the door. It opened and she slipped out.
Selendis, Vartanil, Razturul, and Mohandar were there. As one, they turned toward her.
"Is it complete? Was it successful?"
"They're not done yet," Rosemary said. "I had to get out and move a bit. They said they thought it was going to work, though."
"Ah, that is good! And the professor? He will be all right?" asked Vartanil.