Thomas was glad for the quiet interlude. Memories of another life, someone else's life, were crowding into his head faster and faster and it was becoming difficult to ignore them enough to do his job. He desperately needed someone to talk it over with, and so after watching the ring for a few minutes to make sure nothing else was going to happen he left the bridge and headed for Matthew's cabin. Surely Matthew must be off duty by now. He had to be.

     He was. He had removed his uniform and was sitting on the edge of his cot in his underclothes trying, without much success, to scrub the paint from his arms and hands. A couple of drips had fallen on his face as well, and a sticky patch of hair on the back of his head was the result of his having inadvertently backed into a freshly painted strut. The streaky smears resulting from the soldier's attempts to cleanse himself made him look as if he were suffering from some terrible disease.

     He was cursing under his breath as Thomas pushed the door wider open, using words he must have picked up from older, embittered army veterans, and Thomas laughed despite his fear and uncertainty. "Gods, Matt! You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

     Matthew's reply was an even more emphatic oath. "Can't get the bloody stuff off!" he complained, displaying his only weapon to the amused wizard; a large bar of hard green soap. "This stuff is bloody useless! What are we doing painting the bloody ship anyway? We're soldiers, not decorators! You know the worst part?" he asked as Thomas came in and sat down beside him. "As Wing Leader I have to tell the others to get on with it and not complain! Bloody chain of command! While inside I'm cursing and complaining even more than they are!"

     "The burden of responsibility," smiled Thomas. "The loneliness of command. They say it's tough at the top."

     "I wish I'd never accepted promotion," moaned the soldier, staring down at his soap lathered, paint stained hands. "I was happy as a common cavalryman. I was one of the lads, you know? Now I catch it from both sides. It's not as if there's anyone of my own rank I can chum around with. If I was with a big unit there'd be other Wing Leaders around. How in bloody hell did I get landed with this job?"

     "Because you're good," the wizard replied earnestly. "Those above you know you're good and those below you know you're good. Back on the Hummingbird I heard the men talking about you behind your back, and a couple of times I overheard Saturn reporting back to Lexandria. The consensus of opinion is that you're damned good at your job. That's why you're here."

     Matthew stared at him in astonishment, then hurriedly averted his eyes in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he said. "You didn't come here to hear me griping. It's just that you're the only person aboard this ship I can sound off to. Sorry."

     Thomas put a hand on his arm. "All part of the job. Let's make a deal. You tell me all your problems and I'll tell you mine. Deal?"

     "Deal," agreed Matthew with a grin, "but I can't believe you've got any problems. A fantastic wife, a great son. A whole valley full of wizards who think you're the dog's gobblers..."

     Thomas stood and crossed the room to stand by the doorway and stared out into the corridor. "What is it?" asked Matthew, hurriedly rinsing his hands off and drying them on a towel before getting up to stand beside him. "You've got a problem? Something you want to talk about?"

     "Not a problem," replied Thomas, not turning to face him. "Not as such. It's those false memories I've been having. They're coming faster and faster now. A whole lifetime of memories. You remember the sister? The blonde sister?" Matthew nodded. "I remember her from my earliest childhood to the day she... was lost. I remember every birthday party. Every trick she ever played on me, I mean him. I remember her first boyfriend, a young man from a neighbouring homestead, coming to visit her. I remember walking into the barn to catch the two of them stark naked together, how she warned me not to tell father. Telling me she'd rip me apart if I did. I remember every illness she ever had. Every game we ever played together. Every joy, every despair... I remember everything, Matt. Everything about her! It's as if I really had a sister. The sister I never had."

     Matthew stared at him with a frown of concern. "From your earliest childhood to the day she was lost? What happened to her?"

     "They were attacked in a forest by shologs. Her whole family. I don't remember what happened to the others, only her. She ran screaming into the trees chased by the biggest snout I've ever seen and was never seen again. Did she escape? Was she caught? No-one ever found out. It took me a long time to get over it. We were very close."

     "She and him," corrected Matthew. "She and her brother, whoever he was."

     "You see?" cried Thomas, whirling to face him and grasping his shoulder. "It's getting hard to tell the real memories from the others! What if the time comes when I can't tell the difference at all? What if I forget who I am?"

     Matthew led him back to the cot and sat him down on it, then sat down beside him. "Have you spoken to Saturn about this?"

     "Not since the Hummingbird. He's not interested. He's convinced they're just acquired memories that leaked into me from someone I bumped into once, caused by his overuse of mind reading spells on me. Possibly a harmless shade, the spirit of some poor sod that lacks the power to manifest itself in any other way, but it's more than that. I know it is. He won't listen, though. All he's interested in is the bloody Rossem Project. There's no point going back to him."

     "What about Tim? This is more his line of business, after all. If you've come into contact with some kind of undead creature..."

     "He's tried. No use. Whatever it is, it's not possession. You know what I think it might be?" Matthew shook his head. "Reincarnation. I think I might be the reincarnation of this chap."

     "I thought all the clerics and priests of every God denied reincarnation." Matthew protested. "When a soul goes to judgement, it can only return to the mortal world under rare and special circumstances, and never in a new body. Something like that, anyway."

     Thomas nodded. "That's more or less what Tim said, but I can't think of any other explanation for what's happening to me. I really think I might be the reincarnation of this chap."

     Matthew looked thoughtful for a moment, then looked up sharply. "Okay, so what if you are?" he demanded. "Maybe you are a reincarnation. Maybe you are, I don't know. So what? Think what a unique and wonderful experience that would be. The chance to see someone else's life through his eyes, as though you were him. To know everything he did, relive all his triumphs, all his failures. Most people would give everything they had for what you've got! Don't fear it, relish it. Treasure it."

     "But if I forget which one is the real me..."

     "If you're a reincarnation they're both the real you. Don't think of it as two lives fighting for possession of you. Think of it as one continuous life. First you were there, doing those things, now you're here doing these things. You're like a man who's lost all memory of his life before his eighteenth birthday. All he remembers are his adult years. Then, gradually, his childhood memories begin to come back. Is he scared? Does he worry that his childhood self might supplant his adult self? No, of course not. It's one life. He was a child, then he became a man. It's the same with you. You were him, now you're you, but it's one continuous life. Got it?"

     Thomas stared at him with an expression of desperate hope. "That might work," he agreed. "You know, that's exactly what I'm going to do; try to pretend it's just one long, continuous life. When did you get to be such a wise counselor, Matt?"

     Matthew gave a little chuckle. "It must be Heather's influence on me. She's quite a woman, as wise and understanding as old King Otto. You must meet her one day, Tom. You and Lenny and Derry."

     "We'd love to," the wizard replied. “The earliest possible opportunity.” On an impulse, he reached out and grabbed Matthew's hand, squeezing it tightly. "I've been so scared," he admitted. "Not knowing if I was going mad. You don't know what it's like."

     Matthew returned the squeeze, feeling a little self conscious and embarrassed. "One life, remember?"

     "One life," Thomas agreed gratefully.

     "So," said the soldier. "You remember this chap's sister in every little detail. Do you remember anything about the man himself?"

     "Only bits and pieces. He was a wizard, a good one. He lived on the island continent of Garon, back before the discovery of Amafryka. He apprenticed under an evil bastard of a wizard called Molos Gomm who worked him hard and treated him cruelly. There's something dark and terrible associated with that wicked old man but I haven't remembered what yet, except that I don't want to remember. Something that left a stain on his soul that never went away.”

     He paced across the small room. “He inherited Molos Gomm's castle when he died, gibbering and drooling, his mind almost completely lost in senility. Some time later he teamed up with a bunch of other wizards." He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. "There's more," he said. "Something important, but I can't quite... It'll come. It'll all come. It's all there, I can feel it. One day, soon, I'll know as much about him as he knew about himself."

     "Think of the questions you'll be able to answer," said Matthew, anxious to keep his friend looking on the positive side. "We know so little about those far off days. The historians are going to love you!"

     Thomas grimaced with horror. He'd had enough of being treated as a valuable curiosity when they'd discovered his ability to sense Rossemian magic. He didn't want to go through that again. "Maybe I'll just keep quiet about it," he muttered. "Keep it to myself. I mean, there's not much point going on about it if there's nothing they can do about it, is there?"

     "Probably not," agreed the soldier. "And if you need someone to talk to, there's always me and Tim, and Lenny of course. We'll help you all we can."

     "Thanks," said the wizard gratefully. "You're a good friend, Matt."

☆☆☆

     "A good friend indeed," said Lord Ruby, watching the scene in the imaging chamber. "If we'd had the pick of the whole world, I doubt we could have found anyone better to help him through this period of transition."

     "Look at them holding hands," sneered Jade. "Are they gay, do you think?"

     Lord Ruby gave her a pitying look. "You never were capable of understanding a deep, true friendship, were you? You have to drag everything down to your own level." The green eyed woman glared at him and flounced out of the room.

     "I'm surprised it's memories of his sister that have come back first," said Jasper, staring down at the seated wizard. "Not what I'd have expected."

     "You don't know how close they were," replied Lapis Lazuli, her eyes fixed adoringly on Thomas, "or what an open wound the mystery of her disappearance was to him. If he could have known for certain that she was dead... He often spoke of her to me. He said he was never really able to come to terms with it."

     "But after a century had passed he would have known for certain that she was dead. If not killed by the shologs in the forest then by simple old age." pointed out Jasper. "Surely then he would have been able to put her behind him."

     "But not knowing how she died, what her last thoughts were... For all he knew she might have married, had children. Topaz thinks Thomas might be descended from her. That would explain why he's such a good match."

     "Speaking of whom," said Garnet, looking at Thomas thoughtfully. "He's probably going to want to bring his wife with him, when he comes to us. He's going to want to make an immortal out of her, so they can be together forever."

     "She's a shae," pointed out Jasper. "The shae folk can't live in the realms. We've tried, remember?"

     "She's a quarter human," countered Garnet. "We've never tried mixed bloods. It may be that she can live here. Become immortal like us..."

     "No!" snapped Lapis Lazuli however, her blue eyes blazing. "I won't suffer a rival! He's mine! Mine forever!"

     Lord Ruby sighed. "How many times do I have to say it?" he said. "He won't be the same person. He probably won't want you." She just glared at him.

     "He may not want to bring his wife when he finds out what it involves," said Jasper.

     "Right!" said Lapiz Lazuli emphatically. "The shae herself probably won't want to come."

    "What about Salammis?" asked Jasper, keen to change the subject. "Might be a problem."

     "No, I don't think so," replied the Gem Lord. "He's an incurable hermit, just like the other surviving Immortal Wizards. Only the hermits survived the Mage Wars. He'll find a hole to hide in and never come out. Clever of him to fake his death twice, though. Even Saturn, who has no respect for the mental privacy of others, never suspected he'd read his mind and knew all about the interference. Now that everyone thinks he's dead, he's not going to risk showing his face again."

     "But the rings are still there," pointed out Garnet. "So long as they remain, there's a chance another Immortal Wizard will follow him through, but if he destroys them he tips them off that he's still alive. He's caught in a dilemma. The only solution is for him to destroy the Ship of Space and everyone aboard it. Including Thomas."

     "He won't do that," replied Lord Ruby confidently. "He hates killing, always has done. He'll have found some other way, you can be sure of that."

     "Let's hope so," said Garnet soberly. "We haven't come this far just to lose him like that."

     Lord Ruby gave him a look, then turned and left the imaging chamber without a backward glance.