The Gender End

by Bella Forrest

  She rolled her eyes, and I smiled. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “This too shall pass,” she said, leaning into her pillows. “Seriously though, I don’t have a lot of time before these painkillers kick in, so I want you to listen. An inquiry was led by Edi and Alyssa into the entire thing. Evidence was logged, testimony was given—not by you, of course, because Alyssa was speaking as your advocate—and the investigation has been ruled upon, signed by me, and sealed. Elena was found guilty of war crimes, despite being dead. Our government is willing to give reparations to Patrus, to help stabilize them. Everyone—you, Viggo, Amber, Owen… everyone has been given a blanket pardon, and you are all considered state heroes, free to come and go as you please.”

  I blinked, momentarily speechless. “That’s a lot to take in,” I breathed.

  Morgan grimaced. “Don’t get excited yet—that was the good news. There’s more.”

  “Bad?” asked Viggo. Morgan gave a small twitch in her shoulders.

  “Just listen. There are two things you aren’t going to like. The first one is regarding the egg. It was on the heloship, and survived unharmed—those things are damn near indestructible. The council met and decided they weren’t going to destroy the egg.”

  “But you’re the queen,” I said. “That egg is the result of cruel genetic testing done on the boys!”

  Morgan gave a self-depreciating laugh and shook her head at me.

  “They added another law in the charter,” she said. “The council can, with a unanimous vote, overrule a queen’s orders or commands. They don’t want to risk another Elena ever again. But… they want to study the egg.”

  “No, they can’t! It’s—”

  Viggo placed a hand on my shoulder and looked at Morgan.

  “We won’t argue,” he announced, and I blinked up at him in surprise, wondering what he was planning. “But I think we should stipulate that the Matrians have to share any and all discoveries made, experiments done, and research, with Patrus. And access to any medicine developed as a result.”

  Morgan smiled at him for a long moment.

  “You might just be the man to make that request,” she announced finally, and he blinked.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “She means you’re in charge of Patrus,” announced a masculine voice from behind us, and I turned and saw Henrik stepping in. He looked… weathered, tired, and as if the world had just ground him down using the heel of its massive boot.

  I immediately turned and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, my heart breaking for Ms. Dale all over again.

  He didn’t say anything as I hugged him, and as I pulled back, I saw him wiping his already red eyes with a knuckle.

  “I can’t talk about it,” he said hoarsely. “I just… I can’t. But… I want you to know she loved you both… very dearly. She wasn’t so good at showing it, but… she did.”

  I sniffled, tears beginning to fall from my eyes again, and Viggo pulled me into his side, sheltering me from the pain.

  “Thank you, Henrik,” he replied softly. “How did you get here?”

  “I got a call from Ms. Carmichael asking me to testify. I wanted to know what happened to you, so I came. They wouldn’t let me see you—not until the trial was finished—but…”

  “They never even questioned us,” Viggo cut in, and Henrik sighed.

  “They didn’t need to. Now, can you let me get out what I came here to say? I’m… I’m tired. And there’s a lot to do over in Patrus.”

  “I’m sorry. What did you come here to say?”

  “We finally got a provisional government in place. It was quite a little event, but since I know you’re dying to know, I think first we should start with the boys. They were pressing in, and we were about to give the orders to fire, when they just… stopped. Almost as if someone had flipped a switch. We followed them back when they started to leave and tracked them to the place they’d obviously been kept. We then collected their handlers. The boys are safe, and Dr. Tierney is working to get them off the Benuxupane, although we are having to keep the older boys on it for now—they are too unstable.

  “Now, onto the other bit of news, and why I’m really here. Mags, Drew, one or two of the old Patrian politicians who have come out of hiding, and I have created positions, and a scaffolding of rules and laws to hold them in place. But the people demanded a leader, and you’re it until a proper election. I hope you don’t mind, but we took the liberty of changing the official title to ‘Chancellor.’”

  For a moment, I got to experience the strange sensation of watching my husband freeze in complete and utter shock.

  “That’s… That’s crazy,” Viggo said after he’d found his voice, but Henrik shook his head.

  “It was delightfully simple,” he replied. “Your legend has grown, young man. People have noticed your bravery and willingness to save people. We even held a second election to make it more democratic, and we handled it as simply as possible: one leader collected the votes with guards to make sure there was no tampering. There were many other candidates, but Jeff, Mags, and a couple of Drew’s men campaigned hard for you. So you’re it, provisionally. That is, until new elections in the spring, which was when we’ll hopefully have ideas about term limits and elected positions.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed softly. “I have a heloship on the roof, ready to take you back to Patrus—but we’ve been invited to stay the night in the palace before going home. I would take them up on it. There isn’t much luxury on the other side of the river, unfortunately.”

  He moved toward the door.

  “Thank you for coming, Henrik,” Morgan said softly from her bed, and Henrik slowed, but didn’t stop.

  “Yes, thank you,” added Sierra formally. “My sister and I will be in touch in a few days to help figure out what your people will need, but we already decided to load your heloship with food, water, medicine, blankets, and fuel.”

  “Thank you,” Henrik replied, pulling the door closed. We fell silent, and then I turned to Morgan.

  “Morgan, you said there were two things I wasn’t going to like. What’s the second?”

  Morgan sighed and shifted.

  “Ms. Dale has been found guilty of matricide. She won’t be recognized as a hero due to her actions. She… The only way to keep it from looking like an assassination plot was to censure her to spare you.”

  “What?” I breathed, my stomach dropping out from under me and the world suddenly lurching off the tracks. “How could you…” I paused, unable to find the words, staring at Morgan. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the disbelief and anger from showing plainly on my face. “You signed off on that?”

  “I had to,” Morgan snapped, her shoulders hunching guiltily, then a wince of pain going across her face. “The only way to keep you guys from getting caught up in Elena’s murder was to tell them Ms. Dale acted of her own accord. Which is true, I might add. I… I didn’t like it, but I thought of Ms. Dale, and what she would’ve done, and I knew she wouldn’t care if she were called a villain if it meant keeping you safe.”

  Her words, no matter how true, felt like someone was dragging a rake across my heart. It wasn’t fair—Ms. Dale had been with Viggo and me almost since the beginning. She’d fought this fight as hard as anyone, harder than most, and she’d given her life to keep all of us safe from a psychotic despot.

  Viggo grabbed me and pulled me hard against his chest, and I realized I was shaking so hard the tears spilling from my eyes were jolting on my cheeks.

  “This isn’t right, Morgan,” he growled. “Elena was psychotic and killed a lot of people. It was self-defense.”

  “I know that, Viggo. Believe me, I don’t like it either, but in the eyes of the public, their queen was murdered. Before she was legally convicted. They weren’t just going to let that go. I really hate it. But I did what I had to do—and what Ms. Dale would’ve done—and you both know that. Just
know too… she will always be a hero in my mind. Always.”

  Her voice wavered, and I looked over to see Sierra handing Morgan a tissue. The new queen immediately swiped it across the corners of her eyes, inelegantly wiping her nose on it afterward. I knew, could see in her eyes, that this did hurt her. And somehow, that made me feel slightly better about the situation. Slightly.

  It would take a while, I decided, but I could let this go too. Because Morgan was right… This was what Ms. Dale would have wanted. For now, I’d allow myself to feel the anger and resentment that came with it. I just wouldn’t direct it at her.

  “This is… too much to take in,” I said softly, after taking a moment to collect myself. “Half of it feels like a dream. The other half feels like a nightmare.”

  “I’m in too much pain for it to be a dream or a nightmare,” Morgan replied tiredly. “But I understand what you mean. You should go and get some rest in a comfortable bed for a while. Process things. Edi will take you to your rooms. These drugs are kicking in, so I’m going to go to…” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Her voice got slower and slower, and she trailed off, her eyes drifting closed.

  “She drops in and out,” Sierra explained softly. “You should go. We’ll reach out in a few days.”

  “Okay,” Viggo whispered. “Thank you, Sierra.”

  The little girl smiled up at him, a dimple forming in one cheek, and then turned back to her sister. Viggo and I left the room and followed Edi, who had waited for us in the hall. She led us to the rooms.

  “I trust you won’t mind if I post guards outside your door?” she asked primly, giving us an expectant look. “It’s protocol whenever we have visiting dignitaries—for both our protection, of course.”

  “Of course,” Viggo said. “I trust we’ll be able to move around freely?”

  Edi’s smile was nothing short of bemused. “Of course. With an escort, mind you.”

  “Why’d you convict her?” I asked suddenly, the words spilling out of me. I looked at her, realized I was tearing up again, and fought it back, forcing the words through my constricted throat. “Why’d you do it?”

  The bemused expression left Edi’s face as she looked up at me.

  “Melissa Dale was a dedicated spy and recruiter,” she said softly. “I knew her. Her loyalty was unwavering, until she took up with you. Do you know what that tells me?”

  “What?” I snapped, still angry enough not to care that I was showing open hostility to an ally. Viggo certainly didn’t stop me. If anything, he stood behind me, an unwavering pillar of support. He wanted to know as well.

  “That you were the cause she thought was worth dying for,” Edi replied simply, her tone calm and knowing. “She didn’t deserve what we did to her, but if she was willing to sacrifice her life to keep you safe, then I would honor her death by doing the same. Even at the expense of her memory. Rest assured, many will question it as the stories persist, as they will, and Ms. Dale’s legacy will not be forgotten by anyone. Including me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you alone—I know you must want to fill your friends in on everything. I’ll have dinner sent to your room.”

  The conversation with Morgan had been hard; telling everyone turned out to be harder. I knew Tim was sleeping, so we began with Owen. His surprise, awe, and pain at the proceedings mirrored mine; I could see the relief plain on his face when we told him about Morgan’s new status and all our exonerations. But when I got to the part about Ms. Dale, I found I could barely get the words out. Viggo had to take over for me, and seeing Owen’s reaction to the news only made me feel worse.

  At the end of the story, I made to go find Amber, but Owen shook his head at me.

  “Do you want me to tell the rest of them?” he asked. “I know… I know this is hard for you. Let me share that load a little.”

  I looked up at Viggo, who was nodding.

  “That’s really generous of you, Owen,” he said, and the two men shared a look of understanding and companionship that warmed me to see. “Thank you. Violet, he’s right. You should rest.”

  After that we were finally able to make it back to our room. When Viggo closed the door and pushed me gently toward the bed, I just lay down without speaking, and he pressed himself behind me, holding me close.

  Only then did I break down fully, sobbing uncontrollably at the injustice of it all, and the bitter truth of their words. The loss of Ms. Dale was too fresh for this as well, but there was nothing I could do to change it. Still, I let myself wallow in my grief, using Viggo as my anchor and spinning out into the void. Missing her voice, her confidence, her wry wit. There was a permanent hole in my heart, an absence of her, and I felt every millimeter of the wound, feeling it bleed out.

  Viggo kept it from festering—he mourned with me, but not as deeply, knowing that now, more than ever, I needed him to be strong for me. He held me tightly, whispering to me reassuringly, long until the sun had drifted low into the horizon. He made me eat the stew they brought down for dinner, making me focus on something practical and ordinary. I was glad the fare was simple—I didn’t think I could hold much else down. Later, he helped me bathe.

  He took such gentle and tender care of me throughout it all, never complaining or growing angry at me. Viggo let me grieve, and it made everything, even in this dark, horrible place of loss, so much more okay. By midnight I slept, and for once, I did not have nightmares.

  By morning, I felt better. Tired, but better. I woke, rolled over, and saw Viggo looking at me, exhaustion evident on his face.

  “Did you stay up all night?” I asked softly, my voice still rough from crying the night before.

  He nodded and reached up to touch my face. “Of course I did. I was worried.”

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed, looking down. “I just…”

  “I know,” he replied. “It isn’t right. I hate it too, but it’s too late to do anything now. We’ll… We’ll just have to move past it.”

  “What do you think the others think?” I asked.

  “We should ask them. The guard who delivered dinner said breakfast would be communally served down the hall. Feel up to going down there to see who’s there and getting their input?”

  I nodded and drew my tired body up, slipping from the bed. Viggo got up as well, and within a few minutes, we were dressed. I held his hand as we left the room, following the guards as they led us to the dining room.

  I was surprised to see that almost everyone in our group was inside. Then again, there hadn’t been very many of us on the mission in the first place… and there were fewer of us now. I felt like I was never going to forget that fact. Of the survivors, the only one not at breakfast was Tim, but that didn’t surprise me. He was still at the stage of wanting to sleep the day away. And, in my opinion, he’d earned that right.

  “Hey,” Owen said from the buffet-style table, smiling gently at me, a heaping pile of toast on his plate. I saw it and my mouth watered—but then I thought about the people in Patrus, and how they were probably dining on protein rations, and my appetite deserted me. I helped myself to a small bowl of cereal and some tea, sitting down at one of the four small circular tables where Amber and Logan were already sitting. Owen finished loading his plate up, while Viggo got a cup of black coffee and sat down next to me.

  “So,” I said, breaking the strained silence. Amber looked up from where she picked at her own food, her eyes blank and empty.

  “Ms. Dale?” she asked, and I nodded.

  “It sucks,” she declared, pushing her fork away and crossing her arms. “They didn’t even take our statements!”

  “Alyssa acted as our advocate,” Viggo replied. “Morgan backed her up in that she told the truth—it wasn’t our intention to kill Elena, but Ms. Dale went against the plan and killed her.”

  “I would have done it if she hadn’t,” I said numbly. “Do you think they would’ve executed me?”

  Viggo reached out and took my hand.

  “Over my dead bo
dy,” he said evenly, squeezing my hand.

  “Ms. Dale would’ve wanted it this way,” Owen said after a pause. “Put yourself in her shoes. You’re saying you wouldn’t have done the same thing for all of us? Even if it came at the price of a tainted memory?”

  I stared at him blearily, trying to decide whether I should feel angry. It took me the length of that stare to process what was going on in my heart, but eventually I sighed and placed my hands in my lap.

  “I already thought of that,” I admitted. “And you’re right. It wouldn’t matter to me, and if it could keep all of you safe, I don’t think I’d care.”

  “Exactly. Besides, that makes Ms. Dale a hero twice over: not only did she stop Elena, but she spared us from getting executed for regicide.”

  I exhaled slowly. “It still hurts,” I said numbly.

  “That’s because Ms. Dale was a hell of a woman,” Logan said softly, and I looked at him. He gave a sad smile. “I know it’s not really my place to say it—I didn’t know her as long as you all did—but I could pick up on it the moment I met her. She was just… calculating and fierce, y’know? I haven’t met many people like that in my life, man or woman, and… I kind of admired her.”

  “Me too,” said Amber, her lips quirking. “Not just ‘kind of.’ Hell, I want to be her. She was so pragmatic, but underneath that hard spy exterior, she had a heart. A living, feeling heart.”

  “She was courageous,” Viggo added with a nod, and I smiled. “When she found out the truth, when she learned what was really going on? She decided to do something, even if it meant going down as a traitor. That made her brave, and that made me respect her.”

  “She never let us down,” I whispered. “Not once, not ever. I’m going to miss her guidance.”

  “We all are,” replied Viggo. “But we’ll remember her like this. Not how they tell everyone else to remember her, but how she was. And we’ll tell our children the truth about her.”