by Fonda Lee
Some unnameable, bittersweet emotion jogged through Donovan. It was like that tearing sensation he’d felt in the hotel room months ago—the undeniable connection and yet the impossible distance—but this time it didn’t cause him pain or distress. It was what it was. A lingering echo of his old longing and desire stirred, subdued behind a wall of urgent pragmatism. He needed to speak to Anya—alone, and soon.
At last she seemed to not be occupied in some immediate task, and he went to her and whispered, “Can we talk? There’s something else I have to tell you.” Anya didn’t get a chance to reply because at that moment Julian grumbled loudly to the two newcomers, “Ridiculous, I say. We shouldn’t be expected to sleep under the same roof as a shroom pet.”
Anya turned and raised her voice. “I agree. You shouldn’t have to put up with that. You can take your things and clear out because you’d obviously be more comfortable elsewhere.”
Julian’s bristly eyebrows shot into his mop of gray hair. “Young lady, you’d turn Chloe and me out onto the street with the way things are out there? You wouldn’t do that.” The old man sounded incensed, but there was a tremor of uncertainty in his voice.
“No, Chloe can stay,” Anya said, “but if you feel strongly enough to turn down a safe place to sleep, or you have a problem with Minh and me being the SRP keepers, you can leave knowing we’ll take care of her.” At this, Chloe began to whimper, and Julian, alarmed, began to mutter a recantation and busily fix her blankets.
Donovan put a hand on Anya’s arm. “It’s okay.” He spoke loudly enough for everyone else to hear. “I’m not staying the night. I’ll be gone as soon as I can.”
Anya’s eyebrows rose as she turned to him. Then her back stiffened. “You’re right. No reason for you to sleep in this dump. You’ve got a house and a bed in the Round waiting for you.”
There it was again, the inescapable friction between them: Anya always pointing out their differences, reading arrogance and privilege into everything he said. “I’m not going back to the Round,” he said, keeping his voice level and lowered. “That’s what I need to talk to you about.”
The coolness of Anya’s glare betrayed more than a few unkind thoughts toward him, but she said, “Minh, can you finish helping everyone get settled?” The older woman gave Donovan yet another distrustful glower before nodding and taking the remaining stack of blankets.
“Come on.” Anya didn’t sound any less annoyed, but she took Donovan by the hand and walked him across the floor to a fire escape door, which she pushed open onto a dark stairwell. She flicked a wall switch and a buzzing fluorescent light shone greenish on the bare concrete stairs. Together, they climbed the two flights of steps and emerged through another door onto the roof of the building. Anya propped the door open with a piece of wood, walked a few feet away, and turned to face Donovan, hugging her bare arms, her face in shadow, backlit by the streetlights of the Ring Belt and the distant otherworldly glow of the Towers.
Donovan walked toward her, strangely grateful that she seemed as awkward facing him as he did facing her. He stopped in front of her. “I’m sorry. For the way things ended last time. I was expecting something from you that I shouldn’t have.” Tentatively, he reached out and placed a hand under her elbow. “I was trying to change your mind about the Round, about the zhree, and about exos, even just a little bit, because …” He hesitated, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Because meeting you last year changed my mind about some things. I guess I hoped that maybe … maybe you’d see more of who I am, where I live, and what I do … and still like me anyway.” Donovan dropped his hand back to his side. “I know it was too much to ask. We both have our reasons for believing what we do. But I got hurt and angry, and I didn’t listen to what you were saying that night.”
Anya’s eyes rose briefly to his, then dropped to a spot somewhere between his feet. “Well. It’s not like I’ve been very nice to you either.” She hunched her shoulders and her voice fell. “Whenever you try to get closer, I put up a wall. I say mean things to keep you away. I don’t know why. Maybe because of Kevin; he always told me not to trust anyone, especially outside of Sapience. He used to say trust is a weapon, and when you give it to someone, they might turn around and shoot you.”
Anya sighed and walked a few paces away. She sat down cross-legged but still spoke to Donovan as she gazed out over the rooftops. “But maybe it’s because I’m afraid,” she admitted quietly. “I joined the cause to fight against what’s wrong in the world and try to make things better.” She looked over at him with a faintly aching resentment. “You made me start thinking of exos and shrooms as people and … maybe I didn’t really want that. Because that would just make things harder. It’s hard enough, sometimes, to be okay with the things we do for the cause.”
Donovan sat down next to her. From up here, the Ring Belt seemed almost peaceful—except that parts of it were lit with electricity and other sections were dark, the faint stench of smoke hung in the air, and every few minutes they heard the nearby wail of sirens or the crack and boom of gunfire. Donovan remained silent; Anya had never spoken about her decision to join Sapience nor expressed doubt in the cause before. “It’ll only get worse, won’t it?” she whispered after a spell. “And there’s not much we can do about it.”
Donovan wasn’t sure if she was talking about their relationship or the disintegrating state of the world in general. “Probably. But apparently we’re both too dumb to stop trying.”
A wry smile lifted the corner of Anya’s mouth and Donovan felt a little better. He figured it was safe to ask a question. “When you were talking to those two women, you mentioned them heading west to join one of the armies. What did you mean? What armies?”
Anya leaned back on straight arms. “The Sapience cells around the world are combining to create regional defense forces. There’re a few different ones that have already gathered and are putting out the call for people to join. There’ll be more that get off the ground soon.” When Donovan tilted his head questioningly, she shrugged and smiled. “Being Saul’s main communications person is a good way to keep up with what’s going on.”
“So, Sapience is building an army?” Donovan found the idea more than a little disturbing.
“It’s not one army exactly because there’s not one person in charge. Some of the groups call themselves Sapience, but others don’t. Some answer to Saul, but some do their own thing. And there are some that’ve declared they’re True Sapience only.”
“How’re they organizing so quickly?” Donovan wondered. “It’s only been a few days since the attack.”
Anya looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “You called this the start of the next War Era, didn’t you? Sapience has been planning for the next War Era ever since the last one ended.”
Anya was right. Sapience and its more extreme offshoot, True Sapience, existed to oppose anything they saw as alien. Their military forces might be comprised of autonomous guerrilla squads who weren’t able to understand a word of Mur or tell two zhree apart to save their lives, but they were eager and prepared to fight.
They wouldn’t win, though, not in the long run, not against a raiding civilization with far more advanced technology and the eventual goal of scouring the planet of life.
“Anya,” he said, “I’m going to ask you to do something for me that I didn’t do for you.”
She leaned slightly away from him. “What’s that?”
“To listen carefully to everything I say. And to trust me.” He took out the padded envelope with Dr. Ghosh’s research files. “I need to deliver this to Dr. Eugene Nakada.”
Donovan told her everything. He explained that the Mur colonists were being ordered by their homeworld to relinquish Earth, and that they planned to evacuate a small population of exos to preserve the human species in the face of the planet’s likely eventual destruction. He told her about the exocel inhibition reflex, the research his father had commissioned, and the awful casualties the exos had suffered when t
he Hunters had attacked. With difficulty, he even told her about Vic, about the twin brother she’d lost in Hardening and why she’d betrayed her erze to help Nakada, and how she’d died needlessly because they weren’t able to get back into the Towers.
Anya did as he asked. She listened, with that watchful, childlike stare he knew so well, the one that betrayed her unselfconscious fascination with the alien world she so opposed.
“There’ll be a lot of exos left on Earth,” Donovan said at the end. “Including an awful lot of soldiers-in-erze with weapons and training, but who can’t use their armor against zhree. I told you before that I’m not special, and it’s true. There are hundreds of thousands of stripes like me who would fight the Rii if we could, with Sapience if we had to.” He opened the envelope and shook the memory discs into his hand. “No one on the inside of the Round will use this research to give exos that freedom. But there’s one person here on the outside who knows a lot more about exocels than most humans.”
Anya took the small discs and turned them over in her hand. Donovan tried to read her expression, but her face was hidden by the darkness and the curtain of her hair. She did not speak. Softly, Donovan said, “I know you have plenty of reasons not to like me—or my kind, as you call us. But have I ever lied to you, Anya?”
Slowly, Anya shook her head.
“Then, please … will you tell me where to find Dr. Nakada?”
“No.” Anya stood up. “But I’ll take you to him.”
Minh disapproved vehemently of the idea of Anya leaving the Secure Refuge Point with Donovan, late at night no less. “You’re supposed to stay here,” she insisted, dragging Anya aside. “What’re people going to think if one of the keepers leaves?”
“That’s why there are always two keepers, right? If I’m not back in three days, then follow the rules and appoint a new co-keeper.”
Minh’s wrinkled face contracted like the skin of a prune.
“This is important,” Anya told her. “It’ll help the cause.”
“Wait until morning, at least. It’s dangerous out there.”
“I can’t wait,” Donovan said. “Someone is bound to notice I’m missing soon. When they discover I’m not in the Round, they might come looking. You don’t want more stripes showing up here, do you?”
The look Minh gave him could’ve frozen salt water.
Anya hugged the older woman. “I’ll be fine.”
Leon’s electricycle was where Donovan had left it. He hadn’t been worried about it being stolen—it wouldn’t start for anyone without an approved exocellular body signature—but vandals had already attacked it with heavy implements and there were scratches on the paint and dents on the surface that would’ve made Leon unhappy. Guiltily, Donovan swung a leg over the seat and gripped the handlebars.
Anya remained standing on the sidewalk. “We can’t take that.”
Donovan felt stupid. She was right. No unmarked squishy would own a vehicle like this. They wouldn’t get anywhere near a Sapience hideout without being shot at. “How’re we going to get there, then?”
They moved the e-cycle to the alley behind the building where it would attract less attention. After disabling the tracking system, Donovan parked the vehicle out of sight behind a dumpster. Anya jangled a set of car keys and led him down the street to an ancient brown pickup truck.
It was exactly the sort of cheap petroleum burner Kevin always seemed to have on hand. Anya climbed into the driver’s seat. Donovan opened the rusty passenger-side door and got in. “Where’re we going?”
“Laramie.” The truck coughed and started on the third try.
“That’s where Nakada is?”
“That’s where he checked in from a couple of days ago.” Anya turned on the headlights and pulled the grumbling vehicle into the street. “After something happens, like a major operation or a SecPac raid, people get on the Sapience network to let others know that they’re okay. That’s what happened after the bombs started falling. As long as Eugene hasn’t moved, that’s where we’ll find him. Sapience has a lot of folks around there and there’s an old university with medical lab space.”
In a skimmercar, the drive to Laramie might take an hour. An hour and a half, tops. In this old thing, it would take twice as long. It would be past midnight by the time they arrived. Donovan glanced at Anya nervously. The truck seemed too big for her. None of these stripped-down petroleum burners had computer navigation, automatic collision safeguards, or shielding. Death traps for squishies, when he thought about it. He knew Anya would be annoyed or scornful if she knew of his concerns, or worse, if he offered to drive. Donovan bit his tongue. Anya was a Sapience operative; driving a truck at night was the least dangerous of her activities.
Instead, he stared intently out the window, falling into the SecPac officer’s habit of scanning every street, building, and vehicle they passed. His armor came down and he breathed a little easier once they were out of the Ring Belt and the countryside began expanding in front of them as a flat indigo vista. “You could sleep,” Anya suggested.
“I’ll stay up.” He hadn’t had a proper night’s rest in days but was determined not to drift off right now. “I’d rather keep you company.”
Anya turned toward him, a smile curving her lips in the dark. She faced forward again and rolled down the windows. The summer night’s air whistled into the cab of the truck, drowning out the steady hum of the highway. Donovan wished he could make himself temporarily forget the circumstances of why they were out here, because the open prairie at night was beautiful. He leaned out slightly to better see the brilliantly clear sky, vast and dusted with stars. From this unimaginable distance, the stars all looked the same to the naked eye. But some of them, he knew, belonged to other systems in the Mur Erzen Commonwealth. Some warmed planets that were home to zhree or other species. But not humans. Humans were nowhere else.
His comm unit flashed a priority message. Donovan pulled it up on the display and felt his brief moment of contemplative peace vanish. All able-bodied exo soldiers-in-erze slated for first-round evacuation were ordered to report to Soldier Werth at SecPac Central Command at zero eight hundred hours for inspection and instructions. The military withdrawal had already begun; ships full of Soldiers were already leaving Earth. The first wave of human evacuation would occur within the week. In about ten hours, Donovan’s absence would be apparent.
Anya rolled the windows back up. “Are they looking for you?”
“Not yet.” Donovan silenced his comm unit’s alerts and stowed the device.
Anya’s mouth turned down. “I thought exos were compulsive about being with their own kind and following orders. What you’re doing could get you into a lot of trouble, couldn’t it?”
“You mean smuggling secrets about zhree biotechnology to a Sapience scientist? Yeah, I’d say so.” He hadn’t stopped to think too much about the possible personal consequences of his actions and decided he didn’t want to do so now. At least he hadn’t dragged Jet into this. Remembering the look on Jet’s face as he’d closed the door, imagining him now grieving alone in his room—the pang it brought to Donovan’s chest made him grimace.
He changed the subject. “Is Saul really meeting with the Prime Liaison? Even after the disastrous way the transition talks ended?”
Anya hunched forward over the wheel as they passed a road sign indicating Laramie was ninety miles away. “A lot has happened since then. Wanting change and wanting the shrooms gone was something everyone in Sapience used to be able to agree on. But with everything happening so quickly, and now with the bombings and fighting … People are scared out of their minds. They don’t know what to think and they’re losing faith in the cause.” Anya’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Saul will find a way to keep the cause together. He always has.”
Donovan remembered what Commander Tate had said in the briefing several weeks ago, about the dilemma facing the Human Action Party: Support the government they’ve opposed or join True Sapience. Was
that what Saul was deciding right now? “I hope something comes out of the meeting this time,” Donovan said. “We all deserve a second chance, I think.”
Anya put one hand on the seat between them. “Personally, I just hope we don’t all die.”
A seemingly incongruous statement coming from a girl committed to an illegal terrorist organization, but then Donovan remembered that the Rii attack had killed more people outside the Round than inside it. He’d been so consumed by the losses close to him that it was easy to forget that cities containing millions of people had also been bombarded in the attack. How many people had died as “distraction” so that the Hunters could take the Rounds?
Donovan reached over and placed his hand on top of Anya’s. She turned her palm up and laced her fingers into his, and they sat silently with hands joined as the rumbling pickup ate mile after mile of dark highway. Not long ago, he would’ve wanted and hoped for more, but now, holding Anya’s hand didn’t overwhelm him with lustful yearning. Instead, he felt comforted and resolute. For the first time, they were going somewhere together of their own free will. As allies.
“Can I ask you a question?” Donovan asked.
“You just did,” she pointed out.
“Can I ask you another question?”
Anya snorted softly. “Is it some sort of deep meaning-of-life question?”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “What color is your hair, really?”
Anya gave a short, incredulous laugh. “That’s what you want to know?” When he kept looking at her expectantly, she shook her head and said, in a more melancholy tone than he’d anticipated, “I don’t really know, to be honest. I’ve changed it so many times, I’ve kind of lost track.”
