![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
"Since it did, I think that means our primary mission is to get home alive. And we should keep as quiet as possible, and not show those letters to anyone, but deliver them up to the right authorities when we get home. That's how I see it."
Sister Rose shook her head. "No, that's not right -- well, it's half right, our first task is to survive, but the letters weren't written to the people in the pl-- great temple, they were written to us. Specifically, to me." There was another person in the group that Father Amalric had said should see the contents, but there would be a time and a place for that. "Part of what's in the long one is instructions, in his inimitable style, on what to tell the board of inquiry, if there is one. We're to say he died in the crash of an airship testing a new propulsion system." She laughed humorlessly. "That's true, after all."
She turned to Desiree. "I think you're half right, too. He wanted someone to be able to take back word, all right, rather than going out alone, unloved, forgotten. But he didn't want us to see him die ... and for that matter, we didn't see him die. For all we know, he could have abandoned ship, jumped to safety in time to avoid the big bang, and he's still out there somewhere." A look passed between the two women. "Yes, I know, I don't believe that any more than you do. But he still made sure we wouldn't know. We'd only have our thoughts and our interpretations."
"But one thing I don't get," Therese put in, "is why he had to die at all. If I understand you correctly, that airship just about flew itself. Why would he have to pilot it to its target? Why not take a spot in the escape glider along with the rest of us? He probably built it, or had it built, expecting to use it for his own escape, since he didn't know we were coming."
Now that was an interesting thought, Rose reflected. "I don't know," she finally said. "Being Amalric, I'm sure he had his reasons. Maybe he'd discovered he was terminally ill, like your friend Lady Vatnikov, and didn't want to die a lingering death. Maybe he'd got tired of living. Your Melusine pre-deceased him, and I suspect her mother -- his wife, lover, whatever -- did too. Maybe -- I just don't know. And I don't think we ever will know."
Therese nodded sadly. "One thing I do know," she said, "is that on every high holy day of the Five Great Mothers, I'll pray for his immortal soul."
"Amen," Rose said. "And so will I."
[OOC: New thread going up in the morning, but this one is still open for final thoughts.]