by Rayner Ye
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
He nodded.
“Fuck. What’s wrong with you? You’re insane!”
“She doesn’t want him. I love her. I think she’s the one.”
“Maki should be the only goddamn one! I can’t believe this.”
“I haven’t told him she’s dead. Just don’t know how to put it. He thinks she’s away at work.”
“You have to tell him before the funeral.”
“I’ve always been knotted up with guilt from everything I did to you, and I’m so sorry. No number of excuses or apologies will ever let me off the hook. I accept that. But the point is, Maki needs a stable father figure.”
Tension hardened Akachi’s body, and he leapt to his feet and paced the room. They’d not only cheated on him and kept the truth about him being a father, but treated his son like crap. How could these two people he’d once loved become so heartless?
Lightning flashed. Akachi stopped pacing and rested his hands on the window pane. Thunder boomed, and monsoon rain pelted the crowded street below. Pedestrians scurried for shelter. “I’d like to have a relationship with him.”
“I thought you would. That’s good.”
“Don’t give him up for adoption. I could visit on my days off, and I’ll send you half my salary.”
“That’s not what I want. That’s not why I found you.”
“Wait, Dav, listen. That’s a lot of money. You’d never need to worry about finances again. You could be a full-time parent.”
“To a boy who’s not mine? I want to travel. Start my life again with my girlfriend. Have my own kids.”
Akachi glared at him. He’d love to shoot this fucker. “You haven’t changed, have you? You’re still a selfish piece of shit!”
Dav drained his second beer. “If you don't take him, I’ll give him up for adoption. Do you want strangers raising your son?”
Tears welled in Akachi’s eyes. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I hate people like you. This child is a human being. He put all his trust in you!”
Dav reached behind Maki, grabbed the airSphere remote, and switched it off.
“Hey!” Maki said. “That’s not fair. I almost got ten medals!”
Dav stood and pointed at Maki. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, Daddy. Do we have to?”
Akachi gulped. Didn’t Maki know that Dav wasn’t his real Pops?
Dav shoved a crumpled piece of paper into Akachi’s hand. “Here’s my number. Hopefully, you’ll do the right thing.”
***
Akachi gazed at the lit-up Republican’s Tower slicing through the dark sky, unsure why the locals were so proud of it. (Italicise) Just another slab of concrete in this godforsaken capital.
He filled his lungs with warm air. At least the air pollution was less extreme south of the city—the right place for a run with plenty of green space and roads reserved for street vendors.
A young family out on a walk stopped and pointed at him, whispering to one another. He’d heard the word Heerang more than once tonight. Tanjung might have been another shithole, but at least it was multicultural, and he wasn’t treated differently because of his skin colour.
What did they think of Maki in these parts? Was he considered a Noctar or a Heerang? Could Native-Reds even imagine a Heerang and Noctar conceiving a child?
If only he could retire and take Maki in. If only he could be the father Maki needed. Money wasn’t the issue. Z’Das had already told him how much an early retirement would bring. They could go back to Mayleedia and live the good life, or live with Mom and Pops. He could see the look on Mom’s face now—pure delight.
But if he left the Mayleedian Secret Service, he’d lose access to secret files. He’d have to kiss the search for his long-lost sister goodbye unless Mom and Pops could take care of Maki in Markaz while Akachi searched for her.
If she were still alive, she’d be thirty-seven. He was seven when they snatched her from his hand. She was four. How did they get away with that? Ghani, the capital of Markaz, was as developed as Nerthus in those days. In such a busy place with his parents, other adults, and security all around? How could the Markazean Police have found nothing on them? The memory would forever haunt him.
Perhaps the files from Bamdar’s joint had already downloaded onto the microchip in Akachi’s cerebral cortex. They might hold information about his sister’s whereabouts. Bamdar had human trafficking rings outside of the Firesnake too.
He rubbed his shoulders and neck, plugged his earphones in, and ran.
The next day, he buzzed Dav on his holophone and invited him and Maki over.
“Hey, Akachi!” Maki said. “Can I play that game again?”
“Sure thing. Want some banana juice first?”
Maki jumped up and down, then walked into his Akachi’s kitchen. “Banana juice, banana juice.” He grinned and stuck out his tongue as far as it would reach.
Akachi chuckled and poured the juice.
“No beer for me today, thanks,” Dav said.
“Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee.”
Akachi handed out the drinks and set up the same VR game. “It’s saved where you left off.”
“That’s great.” Maki made himself comfortable on the settee. He looked like he belonged. “I was thinking about that game a lot when Daddy made us leave the other day. Thought I’d lost all the medals.”
Akachi smiled. “Everything’s there for you. I looked up your results. You made it to level four.”
Maki grinned and stuck out his tongue again. Akachi slipped the headphones on him.
Akachi sipped his coffee. “I’ve had an idea. Well, I had the idea when I saw some school kids after my jog. Instead of giving Maki up for adoption, lets put him in a boarding school.” The boy could be at risk even with his parents. Being a spy was dangerous.
Dav frowned. “The boy won’t get much love in a boarding school.”
“Maybe not. But he’ll have a routine, be safe and secure, and make friends. I’ll visit him too. It would be good if you could.” He held out his palms in defence. “No pressure, though.”
“Sure, I’d visit the kid. He might stop calling me Daddy, and call me Uncle instead.”
“You’re an asshole. You know that? Anyway, once I’m ready to take early retirement, I’ll take him out and be the father he deserves.”
“Why don’t you take the early retirement now?”
“Remember my sister, I told you about?” Akachi cringed at the fact he’d been so close to Dav. He’d told him all his deepest secrets.
“Still looking for her?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“You should give up. You’ll never find her or what happened to her.”
“I will if it kills me. The secret service has files on all kinds of human trafficking rings in Plan8. I doubt she got any farther than Nerthus or Kuanja.”
“That’s the total of...” Dav did sums on his fingers. “Fourteen billion people. And with the intelligence you have access to, how would you find her? How many years ago did they take her?”
Tears burned Akachi’s eyes. He looked away. “Thirty-three.”
“You’re chasing a ghost. You have a son now. He needs you more.”
Chapter 4*Somare
Somare walked down the temple steps with his wife, Nahau. Like all the women leaving the temple, she carried on her head a basket of fruit containing offerings from the altar to take home and enjoy.
The rituals had finished, and congregations from all over Kos flocked out of Indite Temples. Women wore sarongs wrapped tightly around their hips and colourful lace shirts with matching bras. They walked with tiny steps accompanied by husbands, boyfriends or family members. Dressed the same as the other men, Somare wore a gold sarong made of silk which hung in pleats to his ankles and a white turban which matched his crisp, white shirt.
Nahau looked as beautiful as the day they had married, twenty-five years ago. The sun blazed against
her green sarong and lace magenta blouse and bra. She looked like a lotus flower floating down Monkey Forest Road with the rest of the Indite followers. He was a happy man.
But he wouldn’t be fully content until Aedre found the key to the pyramid’s time machine. If she still wanted to travel five light-years home, he’d need to raise a lot of money to buy her ticket. Perhaps go into the past, bring back one or more expensive antiques, and sell them.
“What shall I cook for our anniversary dinner?” Nahau asked as they walked down the road. She swayed her hips, balancing the basket of fruit on her head. “Perhaps when we get home, we could drive into town and go to that new supermarket.”
“Why do that? We have plenty of shops in the Kos.”
“I thought you might like seafood. None of the local shops sell it.”
“I have a better idea,” Somare said. “Don’t bother cooking. I’ll take us out to eat.”
Her teeth gleamed as her smile broadened.
“Let’s go to that new seafood restaurant down Monkey King Street.”
“Oh, Somare! That would be lovely.”
Tanks of fish, squid, crabs, and lobsters lined the restaurant’s walls. Nahau looked around and smiled, obviously pleased with Somare’s idea.
They sat at a table by the window, and Somare gazed at the temple members strolling down the road, while Nahau admired the restaurant’s paintings.
He pointed at a nearby tank. “Let’s have lobster.”
“Oh, darling.” She frowned. “You know we can’t afford that.”
“Our anniversary’s a special occasion. You deserve the best.” He looked around for the mosquito drone. Couldn’t see it anywhere.
“I don’t like lobster.” She wrinkled her nose.
“I thought you did.”
“Too messy. I’ll have whitefish with noodles and soup.”
“Come on now. That’s the cheapest thing on the menu.”
“Just because something’s cheap, doesn’t mean it’s not delicious.”
“Okay. Suit yourself. I’ll have the same. I’ll order it at the counter. No use in waiting for the lazy waiter.” He chuckled and walked to the drinks bar. “Can I order here?”
“Sure.”
The staff member looked more interested in the small television behind the counter than doing his job. However, he took out a pad and pen and scribbled down Somare’s order.
Turning away, Somare caught the tail end of a news headline the youngster was watching. “The Mayleedian Interstellar Police are searching the complex now for illegal goods, locked up sex workers, and any information which could lead to other human trafficking rings and money laundering circles.”
“What happened?” Somare asked.
“Raid in Rajka.”
“Huh?”
“The mafia?”
“Mafia?”
“The Yiksaan.”
Somare’s eyes bulged.
“Inarmuzzan police raided their hideout. Mayleedian Interstellar Police took over. A massive fire. Some women they rescued had been hidden away for years.”
“No.”
“Dangerous place—Rajanakki. Glad I’m from Giok.”
He frowned. Was that why the mosquito drone has disappeared? Did the Mayleedians arrest Bamdar? Hopefully.
“Are you alright?” Nahau asked when Somare slipped back into his chair.
He told her about the news. She knew everything about his time travel theories and Aedre. How much of it she believed was another matter.
“Don’t worry yourself with that,” she said. “Let’s enjoy our anniversary.”
Somare’s shoulders relaxed, and he held her hand. “Twenty-five happy years.” His holophone buzzed.
“Oh, Somare. You should’ve powered that thing off.”
“Don’t recognise the number. Wonder who it is.”
“Don’t take it. Probably a sales call.”
“I’ll be quick. Might be an emergency. Perhaps Gus, or someone at the labour camp.” He placed the phone flat on the table and pressed accept. “Hello?”
Two three-inch tall Giokese women stood on top. “Are you Somare?” The taller one asked.
“Speaking.”
“There’s a Noctar down at Haunted River—”
His heart leapt in his throat. “Yes?”
“You know her?”
“Red hair? Name’s Aedre?”
“That’s right.” She changed the view of the phone so that he could see Aedre.
Nahau gasped. “Mother and Father!”
Aedre lay on the same boulder Roobish had shape-shifted from all those years ago when Somare was just a boy. But, this time, Aedre was groaning, and blood seeped from her head and formed a bloody puddle under her matted hair.
“What’s wrong with her?” Nahau asked.
“Says she can’t move. Been here since last night. We wanted to call an ambulance, but she insisted we phone you instead. Can you pick her up?”
“What?! Can’t move?” His stomach turned over, and he stood. “I’m coming now. I know exactly where you are.” He hung up and slid his holophone around his neck.
“So we can’t have our anniversary meal?”
“Sorry, Dear.”
“Well, I’m hungry. I’m eating here.”
“Take mine home for me when you’ve finished. I’ll call you later. Got your holophone?”
“No. Left it at home.”
“What’s the point in having one?”
“I never take my phone to the temple.”
Somare ran down Monkey King road and phoned Gus on the way, asking him to bring the car. How could she have become paralysed? Father and son met the two women by the river.
“Is she the famous Noctar who teaches union?” The shorter woman asked.
Somare nodded.
The women linked arms and walked away, likely gossiping.
Somare and Gus walked over stepping stones in the shallow water and carried Aedre through Monkey Forest, to the carpark.
“Let’s get you to the hospital in Abud,” Gus said.
They put her in the front passenger seat. Somare strapped her in and tried to keep her propped in an upright position. “How did you become paralysed? Did someone attack you?”
“Travelled by river and rain and got injured.”
Heartbeat racing, Somare slammed Aedre’s door and shut himself into the back as Gus slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
“How’d you get injured?”
“Shapeshifter into a mosquito and flew into a UV fly box. Got electrocuted.”
He flinched, then did a double-take. “Did you go see the crow woman?”
“No. I went to the Yiksaan complex, Bamdar’s place, in Rajka, and I freed the slaves.”
“So it was you,” Somare said. “I saw on the news the Mayleedian Interstellar Police were involved.”
Aedre smiled. “That’s good to know. Let’s listen to the radio on the way to the hospital.”
Somare’s mouth went dry, and he balled his fists. “You should’ve visited the crow woman, not gone to the Mafia. You were supposed to get the key for me. No wonder you’re paralysed. How are you ever going to help us find the key in this state?”
Aedre didn’t speak for the rest of the journey as she listened to the news about the Yiksaan raid. When they got to Abud hospital, the porters helped her into a wheelchair.
Pulsating with anger, Somare followed them into the Accident and Emergency Department.
He whispered to Gus. “If she cannot walk or move, will our mission ever be complete? Or will we meet our death when the volcano drowns us in ash?”
“I don’t know, Ba. Perhaps we could take her to Haunted river when it rains.”
“It won’t look good, and it won’t be easy. I can’t return to the labour camp until we know. Had better call the assistant manager to cover.”
***
The next day, while Somare stood facing rice paddies in front of his house and puf
fed a cigarette, his holophone buzzed. Abud hospital. He accepted the call, and a three-inch nurse in a paperwhite tunic stood atop the screen.
“How’s Aedre?” he asked.
“Does she have family close by?”
“No. Her ba lives in Nerthus. Can you tell me how she is?”
“You need to talk to our consultants. Can you make hour twenty-four?”
“Yes.”
“Legal representatives and other care professionals will attend the session.”
Gus accompanied Somare for moral support. The hospital receptionist directed them to an office on the second floor.
When they entered, Somare gaped at the number of people present. Fifteen smartly dressed Native-Reds sat around a large oval table made of pine. All had flat-screen devices, and many appeared too busy to look up.
A tall woman in a shade of red brighter than her skin stood, smiled, and beckoned for Gus and Somare to sit in two of the four empty chairs.
She walked back to her chair, where she remained standing, and cleared her throat.
“Good morning. Everyone is present, so we can begin now.” She waited for everyone to look up and continued. “We’re here to discuss Aedre’s condition and where legal responsibilities lie for her ongoing care. Doctor Mata, could you explain what Aedre’s test results indicate?”
A stocky man stood and clasped his hands in front. “Our patient, Aedre, has quadriplegia. Her condition's often referred to as tetraplegia. For those who don’t work in the medical profession, those terms mean she is paralysed below the neck.”
Somare’s skin tingled in discomfort, and he rapidly blinked as he tried to process the information. “Indefinitely?”
Everyone looked at him, and the doctor cleared his throat. “We don’t know. In some cases, paralysis can be temporary. We don’t know enough about her condition to say for sure.” He looked around as sweat beaded on his brow.
“Please, continue,” the woman said.
“Aedre has suffered a brain haemorrhage to her frontal lobe. We’ve ruled out an ischaemic and haemorrhagic stroke, tumours, and there are no external wounds to suggest impact or any other type of traumatic brain injury. She is on a course of antibiotics, and we won’t know much until most of the swelling has gone down.”
“Is that all?” the woman asked.
