by Aline Ash
“What’s that?”
“There are obvious differences between our two races,” he continues, stroking my hair, “but there are subtler ones, too. Cultural and preferential differences that can’t be ignored. I’ve been trying to fit you into an Orean shanin mold that simply doesn’t fit, but what I need to do, is adapt to an understanding of how a Palian kren ought to act so that we can find a compromise that works for both of us.
“Of course, I would have loved to begin with our Witnessing Ceremony, but I see now how incompatible a notion that was for you. I promise to try harder and to do better, B’ecky. I want you to feel safe and trusted in this relationship. I want you to feel equal, as you’ve said you need, and I want to be sure that I’m doing whatever it takes to make that so.”
I can’t stop one little tear from rolling out of my eye as I lay there, holding this unendingly surprising man. No one has ever paid such heed to my wants and needs as he just did in that one statement. I guess I didn’t realize how much I needed to feel and hear all that, but it’s like with those few words he was able to chip a big hole in the wall I’ve had around my heart for most of my adult life.
I hold him tight and kiss his chest and simply say, “Thank you,” before we both drift off to sleep.
Chapter 14
S’oraj
Two turins pass and, surprisingly and wonderfully, B’ecky spends more and more nights in my bed throughout. Our relationship begins to blossom in this new and fascinating way that I could never have predicted, and I’m left thinking what a strange race these Palians are. So like us in so many ways, and yet so vastly different in the subtle intricacies.
I haven’t said anything pertaining to it, but I have absolutely also taken note of the fact that B’ecky hasn’t mentioned Pal or her family in taks and taks. It seems that she’s settling into the routine and sentiment that I have as well, and the last thing I want to do is bring attention to that fact and ruin it all.
Despite the shockingly positive changes in the wind with her, the war still weighs heavily on me and consumes my every waking moment. At last, now knowing who these spies are, I pull together my two top commanders and include B’ecky in the meeting. She was the one who finally discovered their identities, after all; and she was the one with both strategic moves that have brought us closer to utilizing our knowledge; her outside eye will be immensely helpful in planning our next move.
“An all-out assault is out of the question,” I remind X’oran’s hologram. V’orin nods his head beside me in agreement as well. “Their base is far too well defended and, besides, attacking the very place where lies the weapon we hope to keep from firing is asking for defeat.”
“Then what do you suggest, Your Highness?” X’oran fires back. “Because I can see no way of infiltrating the base ourselves.”
“He’s right,” V’orin adds. “Infiltration would be futile. Even with the plans in our possession, getting on to Rax and blending in... Even using the holographic projectors we’d be spotted immediately. I cannot imagine that they have any less rigorous of security protocols than we do. Holo-projectors don’t work here, there’s no reason to think that they’d work there.”
“Which means we can’t disguise ourselves and, therefore, can’t get in, Your Majesty.” X’oran keeps using my title with more and more venom in his voice. I know he’s frustrated, but so am I.
“Then we need an alternative,” I snap. “Something none of us have thought of. I just can’t see what it is.”
“Send Fiari.” B’ecky’s voice cuts through the building tension like a laser beam.
“Excuse me?” X’oran demands.
“Send Fiari,” she repeats bluntly. “The Raxians don’t know he’s on our side, right?”
“Well, no...” V’orin begins before she cuts him off again.
“And they don’t even know that he was with – let alone leading – the rebels on Mon Alto, right?”
“Right...” X’oran also tentatively agrees.
“Then what’s to make us think that they wouldn’t see his appearance as a miraculous boon to their efforts. Suddenly Prince Fiari returns out of the blue to help them in the final stages to destroy Orean. The day is saved, Kerx is distracted by the reappearance of his nephew, and all the while, he can work to disable the weapon in some subtle way rather than finishing it.”
The room is silent for some time before X’oran rebuts her plan. “But surely G’rava and K’orx have informed Kerx that Fiari is being kept here. There’s no way they won’t suspect his cooperation.”
“Except they haven’t,” I realize with wonder. “No one outside of this room knows he’s here, remember?”
“How is that possible?” B’ecky wants to know.
“He’s been disguised this whole time. Even the guards looking after his quarters haven’t seen him or been told his true identity. They know that we captured a group of Raxian rebels who have been kept under house arrest. They know the leader of that group is considered valuable for the intelligence he might produce out of fear for his own safety, but they have no idea that he’s actually Prince Fiari.”
That revelation sinks in while the two commanders ponder this new plan. I give them a moment and then continue. “If he were to suddenly reappear, Kerx and the rest of the Raxians would have no reason to believe that he’s been with – or certainly that he’s been working with – us. B’ecky’s right... He’s our best, and maybe our only shot.”
Everyone muses on this new development for some time, and I glance to B’ecky to find her beaming with pride at her suggestion being accepted with as little fuss as it is. V’orin’s concerns haven’t been completely assuaged yet, though.
“I don’t know... If Fiari just appears back on Rax after all this time, it will raise suspicions. There needs to be a viable reason for him to have been away and out of communication for so long. Otherwise the timing is too obvious.”
“I agree,” X’oran says. “It would be better if, somehow, Kerx discovered Fiari’s presence here and intended to rescue him before his alleged escape. But how would we get that intel to Rax without it seeming like it’s obviously been planted as a trap?”
Once again, the following silence is broken by B’ecky’s sure voice. “K’tara,” she says simply. And suddenly, the entire plan falls into place in my mind’s eye.
“My dear B’ecky,” I sigh. “I do believe it’s time that you and your s’andukar have a very casual conversation...”
Chapter 15
Becky
And exactly how is he expecting me to suddenly have a casual conversation with my serving woman with whom I’ve barely spoken for all these weeks, now dropping wild hints about Fiari’s presence in the hopes that she’ll take that intel to her father? I tried getting him to give me more specifics before the meeting ended, and even after, but he only deflected.
“How do you suggest I go about this?” I had demanded.
“I’m sure you’ll figure out precisely the best course of action. I trust you!” And he walked out of the room, off to the low-orbit station for an in-person meeting with X’oran and the troops there. When I told him I needed him to trust me, foisting his entire job on me was not what I had in mind.
But there’s nothing for it now, and I do think I’ve figured out a way.
Having the entirety of our rooms to myself for the night, I help myself to a bottle of that delicious golden wine and kick back. Once I am tipsy enough that it would seem viable that I’d say something out of turn, I call K’tara in and won’t let her leave until she has a glass of wine with me. “Girl bonding! O-M-G, yay!” She’d better fall for this.
I pour her second glass and then lay the trap.
“K’tara... Can I just vent something to you?”
“Um... Of course, shan.” She sounds hesitant, but performatively so. She’s putting on a show of her own. This is working.
“I just... With S’oraj gone tonight and after everything today... I just need someone to
talk to and my friends are too far away and... Is that okay? Can I talk to you? I can tell you things, right? We’re friends?” I’m laying it on a little thick, but she seems like she’s still buying it.
“Of course, shan. We’re friends, too, I like to think.” Of course, you like to think that, you lying traitor.
“Ugh, thank you! Okay, well...” Here goes nothing. “I was with S’oraj today and he brought something up that I just don’t know what to do with. Apparently, he’s had a group of Raxian soldiers just locked up in a dungeon — also, we have dungeons? What the hell? — and now he wants to use one of them as leverage against the enemy king because the guy’s, like, a prince or something?” I watch her reaction out of the corner of my eye, keeping my attention elsewhere to throw her off, but clocking every little movement. As soon as I say “prince,” her back stiffens and she goes board stiff.
You’re a shitty spy, K’tara.
“I just don’t know what to do with this information,” I continue. “I mean, it seems so barbaric! What do you think, though? I really want to know. I really value your opinion, K’tara. What do you think? Is this messed up? Or am I overreacting?”
She sits there visibly calculating what to say, clearly relying on my drunkenness to cloud my perception of her active effort, before she speaks. “Well, shan, I mean no disrespect, and I hope you’ll hear this as a friend, but that is simply the way things are done here.”
“What?” I shriek. Okay, now I’m really playing it up.
“I’m sorry, shan,” she keeps going. “But while I’m sure things are different on your home planet, here, that is the way of things. This war has been devastating to both worlds and the violence has escalated significantly since the eight of you arrived. I understand that it’s distasteful, but that is the way of things. It is war, after all.”
You’re goddamn right it is...
I let her calm me down and then I lean into the drunk act and let her leave and go home for the night. That’s right... Run along home to daddy, you lying, evil, bitch. Tell him everything.
After she’s gone, I cork the wine and have a glass of water, splashing some on my face to sober myself up a bit. Looking around the room, I realize that I am genuinely pretty frustrated, so I take the evening alone to go for a walk through the palace gardens.
They’re beautiful by day, but by night, they’re absolutely magical. Many of the flowers and little nocturnal insects produce bioluminescent light, so even without any help, the garden literally glows. The hedge mazes are lit up with soft pinks and yellows and blues, and the fountains ripple with microscopic critters who put out the loveliest greens I’ve ever seen when the water is disturbed even a little by fish or a finger.
I wander around, letting my mind go where it pleases, and I find that the conflict I’ve been shoving down is desperate to come up for air. So, after these last few weeks of fun, I let it breathe.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” I ask the universe aloud. I am falling in love with S’oraj. It’d be irrational not to at least admit it silently to myself. And God knows the sex has been... otherworldly... But he can be such a prick when he goes into ‘king mode’! That whole scene at the party, for one thing. And then today: just throwing this job at me with no plan or instruction or help? There’s a serious disconnect between what he thinks he’s doing, and how it actually comes off. Can I live with that?
Before I have time to think on it any further, a familiar voice catches my ear. I’d made my way back toward the entrance to the gardens, and around the corner in a small antechamber between the garden and the corridor leading to the throne room, G’rava and K’orx are once again huddled in the shadows conspiring.
I press my back against the wall and lean as closely to the doorway as I can. I can hear them clearly, but I’m completely exposed, and if either they come out, or anyone else comes by, I’ll be caught instantly. This is a bad position to be in, but I can’t just walk away.
“Did they say when it would be ready?”
“They’re working off estimates. If you’d managed to get the plans for the defensive countermeasure as you were supposed to—”
“It’s not that simple!”
“Neither is keeping an open channel to Rax hidden from every intelligence officer on Orean! Yet I’m capable of executing my job.”
“What are you implying, K’orx? Just come out and say it!”
“Stop! We don’t have time to bicker. Because Kerx’s scientists don’t know what they’re working against, it’s all guesswork. Even still, they’re estimating that the weapon should be able to punch through any kind of defense within the turin.”
“Good, then—”
I can’t help it. It must have been my walk through the gardens... All that pollen... I feel the sneeze coming too late. I don’t even have time to get away from the door before it forces its way out of me. I try to muffle it as best as I can, but at the sound, the two spies cut off their conversation and before I have time to react, G’rava is pinning me to the wall, one hand over my mouth, and his tail crushing my arms into my ribcage so hard I’m scared he’s going to break something.
“Well, Palian, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” he growls, his voice filled with hatred and spite.
“What’s happening?” K’orx whispers desperately as he rounds the corner behind us. When he sees me, his eyes narrow and I feel like I’m looking into the face of the grim reaper himself. “We’ll have to silence her. Now.”
“No,” G’rava quietly roars. “There’s no way we could hide her body well enough. She’d be found and we’d be implicated. We have to get her off the planet. I have contacts. I’ll call them from the air.” He leans in so closely I can feel his breath on my eyes. “This is the last time you spy on us, little shanin.”
Before I can resist or even get my footing, he throws me into a headlock that pins my throat closed so tightly I can barely breathe.
“Get out of here,” he commands K’orx. “I can get her to my shuttle myself. Continue the work. Don’t get caught.”
K’orx hesitates for a split second, but then vanishes down the corridor and into the darkness. G’rava yanks me after him and as hard as I struggle against him, his strength is just too much. He’s not the biggest Orean – not by a long shot – but he’s more than a head taller than I am and his strength is overwhelming.
He drags me as I kick and bite at his arm, trying desperately to get air or wring myself free of his grasp, but there’s nothing for it. We move through hallway after hallway and I realize that we’re moving toward the air field. As we approach, several guards see the struggle and come running. As soon as they’re close enough to realize what they’re seeing, they level their weapons, but G’rava doesn’t hesitate like they do. He pulls a blaster from beneath his robes and burns a hole through each of their foreheads, leaving them to twitch and expire on the ground as he wrenches me forward.
I’m floating in and out of consciousness as he hurls me against the wall of his personal shuttle and clasps metal manacles around each of my wrists, clamping them to the framework of the ship itself, pinning my arms out to the sides and leaving me completely unable to get free. I scream with as much might as I have left, but he grabs some piece of fabric and shoves it into my mouth so hard I can’t even move my tongue to push it out. I scream against it, gagging on the wad of cloth, as he fires up the engines and takes off into the night sky.
As we leave the Orean atmosphere, my body begins to ache desperately and my scalp itches intensely. It must be part of the S’ulin Kara bond. It has to be; It’s the only thing that would make sense, and it sounds like some of the symptoms that S’oraj and the healers warned me about. The farther we fly, the worse the pain and itching gets, and I know that I won’t be able to bear this sanely forever.
At least for now, I still have enough presence of mind to remember the coms device that S’oraj insisted I have implanted; the one that we used the night of the party so that he could disco
ver the identities of the spies.
I make sure G’rava is focused on his instruments and flight path, then I make the series of fingertip presses on my right hand to activate the audio-visual recording feature. I’ll just record everything. If it seems like I’m going to be killed, I’ll try to hit send as quickly as I can, but until then, I’ll just keep it recording.
There’s no reason to hail S’oraj directly yet. I’m sure he’s feeling these sensations as well, so opening a line to him will only distract me and cloud his judgment. Better to just keep recording and get as much information as I can. This is bad – like, really bad – but it also might lead me to the inside intel that S’oraj has needed all along.
Chapter 16
S’oraj
As my meeting with X’oran winds to a close, the anxious feeling that’s been growing in the pit of my stomach reaches a boiling-over point and I nearly howl out in panic.
“Your Majesty, what is it?” X’oran asks desperately.
“I don’t know,” I say, nearly panting for breath. “I think something has happened to B’ecky. This feeling I have... It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I can’t describe it, but it’s unbearable.”
Just at that moment, a lower officer scrambles into the conference room throws us a quick salute and a bow, and, at my urging, spits out his report. “Your Majesty — I don’t know how to tell you this — but shan B’ecky has been taken.”
“What?” I roar, charging at him. I would have killed him if X’oran hadn’t thrown himself between us and restrained me personally. “Explain yourself!”
“I only just received word,” the stammering, terrified petty officer rambles. “Several palace guards were found killed and several others wounded. One of the wounded, between bouts of unconsciousness, was able to identify B’ecky in the hands of G’rava. I’ve checked the flight logs, krit... G’rava’s personal shuttle departed from Orean airspace a short while ago. We believe he attacked the guards and abducted B’ecky.”
