by R F Hurteau
“Never mind, never mind,” said Nelson, exasperated. “I’ll get it myself.”
“I’ll wait here,” Terrance suggested, but Nelson shook his head.
“No, you most certainly will not. I’m keeping my eye on you. Just because Edwin treats the security of this city as an afterthought doesn’t mean that I trust you. You’re coming with me to Pods.”
Terrance sighed. “Well, no use standing around here, then. Let’s get it over with.”
They made the trek down to Pods in silence, except for Terrance’s single exclamation of, “Oh! This is the way we came in.”
Killian was in Ben’s office, surrounded by boxes and looking more than a little overwhelmed.
“Killian,” Nelson greeted him, somewhat harsher than necessary. “Where is the master list? I need it.”
“What? Oh.” Killian looked around, his eyes coming to rest on a stack of papers in the corner. “There it is. I was just about to start cross-referencing, though...”
“Never mind that, now. Priorities, man! We need some of these parts for the weapon controls. And I don’t know which ones, yet, either,” he snapped, before Killian could ask, “so just do us all a favor and don’t touch any of it.”
Killian looked heartbroken. “But we need some of these things! We’re trying to network the pods. Ben had a brilliant idea, and we were just about to start testing.”
“Pods?” Terrance interjected curiously. “Is that what all those funny machines are out there? Sure are a lot of them. What are they for?”
Killian looked at Terrance as if noticing him for the first time.
“Yeah, there are a lot.” He squinted. “They’re for, ah...I’m sorry...but you are...?”
Terrance stuck a hand out, which Killian took automatically.
“The name’s Terrance Wallace. I’m—”
“He’s from another department,” Nelson cut in with a start.
He had just realized that they hadn’t discussed who should know about the Culeians, or when. This was all Edwin’s fault! His incompetent handling of the situation had gotten Nelson so worked up that he was too flustered to think things through.
“Come off it,” Killian said, recognition dawning in his eyes. “I saw you come through here! Yeah, with Security, there were four of you, weren’t there?”
Then his face drained of color and his eyes went wide as the full realization of what that meant hit him. “Criminey. You’re from the outside, aren’t you?”
“Took you long enough, friend! We’ve been in your fair city for almost a day, now.”
“I guess I just...I don’t know. Thought maybe they were doing a project outside or something. But you were dressed funny, I just didn’t think...criminey.”
Killian whistled, and Nelson cringed.
Nelson whirled on Terrance in disbelief. “Are you telling me that idiot Denton didn’t even have the brains to bring you in discreetly?”
“If I’d known it was a big secret, I’d have told him myself.” His shrug suggested he was unconcerned with such matters.
“How many people saw you arrive?” Desperation was creeping back up from the pit of Nelson’s stomach.
“I dunno. Loads, I guess.”
Nelson clapped a hand to his forehead. “Unbelievable.” He tapped his comm frantically. “Edwin?”
“Edwin here. What’s up, Nelson? Good news?”
“No, this is the exact opposite of good news, Edwin. Are you aware that that complete dolt, Denton, paraded the drill crew through half of Sigil, right in front of the workers?”
There were a few moments of stunned silence. Then, in a weak, half-hearted voice Edwin suggested, “Maybe no one noticed?”
“Of course they noticed! For crying out loud, Terrance is practically on a first name basis with most of Pods!” cried Nelson. “Forget about keeping your precious secrets about the outside world under wraps, Edwin. I’m sure the rumors are flying across half the city by now.”
He snapped his fingers rapidly at Killian’s face, startling him. “Are the rumors flying?”
“Huh? No. I mean, I don’t know. I didn’t even think twice about it until you came in. But I’ve been distracted with this networking business. No one said anything to me about the...the rumors.”
Nelson, heart racing, stormed out of the office. Grabbing the first employee he saw, an older man in a Maintenance uniform who looked taken aback by the sudden assault, he said, “You, there! Have you heard any strange rumors today?”
The man eyed him with concern. “You mean about the outsiders?”
Nelson let out a defeated groan, tapping his comm again. “Yes,” he said resignedly. “They know, all right.”
“We’re going to have to get out ahead of this thing, Nelson. Do whatever you need to do. Fix this.”
“Me?” Nelson complained in a shrill voice, “Sylvia’s the one with a background in public relations, not me. Why should I fix it? Denton is your Head of Security. I didn’t appoint him!”
“Fine. Find Sylvia, then. She’s still in the building. Tell her to organize a city-wide meeting in the square for as soon as humanly possible. Give her whatever support she needs. Got it?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“I said, fine!”
Nelson switched his comm, waving off Terrance, who had come out of the office to find him and was now spinning in one of the chairs at a vacant station. The Culeian opened his mouth to speak, but Nelson scowled at him.
“Not now, Terrance. Go play with Killian. Sylvia? It’s Nelson. Listen, we have a big problem.”
Twelve
Old Friends
FELIX slept fitfully, his nightmares coming in waves, mixing together and breaking against his mind’s eye like a storm surge.
He saw Ripley, covered in ugly red burns, glaring at him from across a great chasm with accusation in his darkened eyes.
His friend tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was blood-tinged foam. It oozed down his chin, causing Felix to recoil in alarm.
“You did this, Felix.”
The sorrowful voice came from behind him. It was Bohai. “You did this to us all.”
Felix turned and was confronted not by Ambassador Bohai, but Thoris Wilks.
His dapper waistcoat was soaked in black, sticky blood, oozing from the hole in his stomach. He held his green bowler cap to the wound and it began to fill, looking frighteningly like squid ink wine.
“Try some,” urged Wilks, his deadened eyes unseeing as he held it out toward Felix. “Your friend seemed to like it.”
Felix turned again and saw Ripley on the ground, an empty goblet clutched in his tremoring hand.
“No.” His voice came out in a choked whisper, terror freezing him in place. Onyx was standing over Ripley’s prone form, looking down with unwavering resolve.
“You did what had to be done,” she said in an eerie monotone. “It had to be done, Felix.”
“No!”
Felix shot up, soaked in a cold sweat. He was breathing hard, and around him his friends had sat up at his sudden cry. Penelope and Tobias looked groggy, but Onyx was alert, eyes flashing even in the darkness.
“Where are Gavin and Ambrose?” he asked, his gut churning as he noticed their absence.
“They’re outside with Laevus,” replied Onyx, calm despite the jarring awakening. “Felix, what—”
Felix untangled himself from the blanket and stood, ignoring her as he tried to shake off the horrible feelings that the dream had stirred up inside him.
“Everyone out.”
He didn’t wait for them but instead marched into the early morning light. Ambrose and Gavin had a fire going and a pot suspended above it, a thick pottage bubbling merrily away. Felix felt his stomach jerk in protest, reminded again of his dream.
“I’m going back,” he announced, once everyone was gathered around the fire. “I’m going to get Bohai out of whatever hole Nero is holding him in, and then we
’re going to get the hell out of this wretched place.”
They all started speaking at once.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Tobias inquired.
“I haven’t fixed the ship yet; we haven’t even got a way to get back,” came Ambrose’s protest.
“There’s a light on the HUD that won’t light on one side,” Laevus offered vaguely in a sing-song voice.
Penelope was wringing her hands. “What if they figure out you’re not Laevus and capture you? How many times can we fool them with the same trick?”
“You won’t get him out.” Onyx’s voice rose above the rest as she surveyed him with sad eyes. “And you shouldn’t feel like you have to. He was planning to ally himself with the Therans. He isn’t worth saving, Felix. Consider his loss a necessary casualty of war.”
Felix regarded her coolly. “I wasn’t asking for your opinion. I am telling you the plan. You don’t get to decide which of us are worth saving.”
Ambrose stood up, brushing the dirt from his knees.
“If you free the Ambassador—which I’m not saying is the wrong thing to do, mind you—the gig is up. They might not know who you are, but they’ll come looking for us, that’s for certain. Pluto’s a good ship, but she’s not magic. And neither am I, much as I hate to admit it. I’m not trying to be a hero, here, Felix. I don’t have any way to get us out of here anytime soon. Even with Tobias and Penelope, I’m not hopeful. We can’t make what we need out of thin air.”
“You don’t have a way to get us out of here yet,” corrected Felix, sounding more reassuring than he felt. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve got to, Ambrose. We’re all counting on you.”
Ambrose didn’t appear confident, but he nodded all the same. It felt wrong to put that weight on the poor old pilot, but Felix was left with very little choice. Without a ship, they’d never make it out of Antarctica.
He’d never see Willow or his children again.
That was unacceptable.
Felix looked around the group, at Gavin’s solemn face, and Penelope’s frightened one. She was probably having the same thoughts about seeing Sebastian again. He knew that, more than anything, that would motivate her to find a way to get them home.
He looked past them all to Laevus. “We’re going to have to take him back to Pravacordia with us. I imagine there’s a lot he can tell us. The Ministry will be thrilled to offer him some of their wonderful hospitality.”
Gavin gave a derisive snort. “He won’t tell you or your Ministry anything. He’ll run you all in circles until you lose your minds trying to wring a straight answer out of him.”
“Well, we can’t just let him go,” reasoned Felix, “and we can’t kill him. So, there’s nothing for it. He’s coming with us.”
“Hurray!” declared Laevus, “I do so adore seeing new places.”
“Then I’m coming, too.” Onyx looked scared for the first time since Felix had arrived. With a start, he realized that she was frightened of how he might respond. “There’s nothing left for me here.”
Felix sighed. “You’re in no position to make demands.”
“Felix...” Tears welled in her eyes. “Felix, please. I’m sorry I left you. You’ll never know how sorry I am that I left you. And I’m sorry I tricked you. I should have just told you the truth.”
“You’re right.” His voice cut through the cool morning air like a dagger. “You should have just told me the truth. But you didn’t.”
She was shaking her head, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You can’t understand. I’ve been tormented for so long, afraid for so long. I forgot what it was like, to trust someone. I forgot what it was like to be loved. I never meant to hurt you. And I swear, on my life, that I will never do it again.”
Felix stared at her, long and hard.
He wanted to believe her. Every fiber of his being longed to believe her.
“How can I trust you, after what you did?” He was desperate for an answer that he could understand. Something that would fix this.
“You can’t,” Ambrose interrupted. His voice was soft, but firm. “She’s broken your trust, Felix. She’s done terrible things. She put all of us in danger for her own selfish goals. And you may never be able to trust her again.”
Onyx looked down, ashamed but offering no protest to Ambrose’s harsh truths.
But Ambrose wasn’t finished. “But, as twisted as her motives may have been, everything she did, she did out of love. A love for her sons. And a hatred for those who tore your family apart. She’s been living inside a nightmare for twenty years, Felix. I think that, even if you can’t trust her, even if it can never be earned back, you ought to be able to show her a little grace. I think she deserves that much, at least.”
Felix didn’t speak for a long while. He thought about his own nightmares, of all the guilt and rage he’d been battling since all of this began. How he’d let Ripley sacrifice himself, how he’d failed Thoris Wilks, how alone the world had made him feel. How everything kept piling up, threatening to engulf him.
For a moment he felt that, even if he could never condone his mother’s actions, he could at least understand what had driven her to do what she’d done.
Slowly, he found himself agreeing. “Yeah. I think I could use a little grace, too.”
Onyx gave a sobbing exhale and ran to him, throwing her arms around him. Once again he found himself returning his mother’s tear-filled embrace, though this time with more hesitance than before. The innocence of their reunion was lost. It felt strained.
Tainted.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried into his shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know.”
It was the best he could offer.
A part of him wanted to comfort her further, to promise forgiveness, to shower her with a lifetime of stored-up love.
But the rest of him was still too upset over yesterday’s events. It will take time, he told himself. He just needed a little more time. Perhaps more than a little.
Felix pulled away and locked eyes with Gavin. “I’m going to need your help.”
Gavin nodded.
***
If not for the whole messed-up situation they were in, the trip might have been quite relaxing. It was a beautiful day, and since Felix was in no mood for conversation he found himself grateful for Gavin’s predisposition toward silence.
He leaned his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes and letting the warm air wash over him, wishing it could just carry all of his worries away.
“Look alive,” commanded Gavin.
“What, are we there already?” asked Felix as he opened his eyes, thinking perhaps he had drifted off.
The Floater was slowing down, and Imradia loomed ahead of them. Beside the city gates, in stark contrast to the gleaming white marble, leaned a hooded figure. Felix wasn’t able to make out much more than that. The cloak was not the fine material nor the proper color for an Envictus, but rather a faded, threadbare green. Felix stared as they went past, and although he could not see any eyes, the hood followed them, which made Felix feel certain that the figure was staring back.
“What do you make of that?”
Gavin’s eyes did not waver from his path. “Beggar.”
“Beggars? You mean you have poverty on Thera?” Felix asked, craning his head to stare back at the shrinking figure. “But I thought that all life was precious to your people.”
“Life, perhaps. They don’t kill each other, sure. But so what?” Gavin scoffed and his mouth twitched irritably. “There are worse things, you know.”
Felix did not reply.
They entered the Council building not long thereafter, and Gavin stepped to the side of the door, standing at attention and leaving Felix to fumble through this charade on his own.
Nero was sitting at the head of the large table, alone. The lights were not lit, the scene cast in ominous shadow. The new head of the Theran government
didn’t glance up, or offer an acknowledgement, but Felix knew he was aware of his presence.
He pulled up a chair, trying to appear confident, which was difficult as he was feeling anything but. He could not think of a single person, across either world, who hated him more than Nero did, and they had never been forced to sit alone in a room together.
But if he had any chance of saving Ambassador Bohai, he required certain key information.
Such as where to find him, for starters.
Neither of them spoke for several painful minutes. Felix was pretty good at reading people, and he could tell that anything he might say was enough to throw Nero over the edge. He decided to wait him out.
At last, Nero broke his silence. “I spent one hundred and twenty-five years on that filthy excuse for a planet,” he said in a low growl. “One hundred and twenty-five years. Of all the Councilmembers in Sanctuary, I was the only one to retain my seat upon our return. The only one who proved my worth through unerring service. I come home, and I am offered a Lordship, something I worked over a century to achieve, and then what do I discover?”
He turned to Felix, his gaze icy. “That Laevus, half-blood son to a traitor, not even twenty, was offered a Lordship, too.” He cocked his head, staring at Felix with a look of utter disgust. “Do you have any idea how dirty that made me feel? To find you in a seat of power to which you had no right?”
Felix was grateful when Nero went on without waiting for an answer.
“And, to add insult to injury, you had to go and look exactly like that...that...” he couldn’t even finish the sentence. “He stole my daughter!” He rose swiftly and grasped the chair nearest him, sending it toppling to the ground.
“They were the ones who made me work so hard for this. And they gave it to you without a second thought. But they’re all dead, now. They’re dead, and here we are. Just us two.”
Felix was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.
But the moment of introspection had passed. Nero drew himself up to his full height and turned to glare at Felix again.
