This Work Is Part Of A Series (The Messenger Archive Book 2)

by DC Bastien

  "You were stealing?"

  "It only counts as stealing if you actually manage to deprive them of their goods. It was attempted theft, Sai. I was with a bad crowd, and I was poor, and I... slipped up. I made the mistake of going after too rich of a mark, and they caught me. Made me spend a night in their out-building. I was terrified that I'd be handed over to the authorities, and even more terrified that I wouldn't be."

  "What happened?"

  "Thankfully, the old man took pity on me. He'd seen I was young and stupid, and he'd thrown me in there overnight to let me stew in my own juices. He came down in the morning and told me if he ever saw me on his property again, he'd shoot me in the kneecaps, and then call the Ur."

  "Holy shit."

  "Yes. I... at the time, I was terrified, relieved, and angry all at once. My shame led me to hate him, and I ran out of there as fast as I could."

  "Who was he?"

  "I never found out. He was Sianar. I should count myself lucky he didn't press charges, really. I ran, and ran, and found the first honest work I could. There was a Captain in the dock. He had a run down, but promising, craft. He was full of himself, but he seemed honest enough. Told me the work might not pay well to start off with, but he'd always make sure I was fed and safe. Asked me to give him a chance... so I did."

  "...which is why you never wanted to tell me about when you signed up," she said, realisation dawning. "You were ashamed of yourself."

  "It's not a day I care to remember, often. It's a me I wish I hadn't been, but if I hadn't... I might never have met the Captain, nor you, your sister, Kre, the Judge..."

  "If you hadn't met him, we might not have joined up," Saidhe said, blurting it out a little too fast. "I was dubious, you know. Interested, but... scared. We'd never really travelled before. And Humans sometimes have a bad rep..."

  Loap laughed. "For being sex tourists?"

  "Hey, it's true! They like Hleen women. And men, too."

  "Do you not swing that way?"

  "I... honestly? I don't know." She'd asked herself this a lot. "I guess I'm waiting for the right guy. I don't know what my 'type' is. I just know I'd rather wait than settle. And I'd rather enjoy my life as it is, than hate it for being 'incomplete' while I'm alone."

  "A wise choice. Not everything is about finding a mate."

  "I mean: are there times I feel a little sad? Yes. I knew from a young age it would be difficult for me to marry. Even if I elected for surgery, or wore contacts, or entered into some contract or other... but do I want someone who only wants me if I change to meet their standards?"

  "Saidhe, and I mean this in the nicest possible way: screw them. If they don't love you for who you are, then they don't love you."

  "Damn straight! It's not like this is the age of the kor-beast!"

  "I'm guessing that means the dark and distant past?"

  "Yes! Back when people used to pick out their family lines and trade children like credit bricks!"

  "My people still do that, to an extent."

  "They... do?"

  "Oh yes. You saw how desperate Greach and Faria were. I didn't actually agree to my cousin producing children with them on her behalf - no one ever does - but a recommendation from a friend or relative is seriously considered."

  "And you don't... find it a bit creepy?"

  "Yes and no. It's not as if it's actually mandatory. No one is ever forced into a union they don't want. All parties always have the ability to reject, but they would be receptive to listening to an offer, if it came under suggestion. Yes, there will be times when the less well off are coerced into saying yes, but... do you honestly think that's never the case amongst Humans? Sianar?"

  "I... suppose so."

  "I at least have enough reason to reject offers. And when I explain my reasoning, my kind never push. When you make a sensible case for your decisions, they are almost always respected."

  "Can... can I ask a bit of a personal question?"

  "Tho-Saidhe, I just told you my darkest secret. I think you can ask me anything you want."

  "Oh." She blushed a little at that. "Thanks. Uhm... you know how you said there's like three genders?"

  "Slightly more complicated than that: there's six."

  "Yes, but there's only really words for two?"

  "Yes."

  "And you don't have to do the same role in a... uh. Consummation."

  "That's correct. We can play any role in procreation. Are you... asking me my preference?"

  "Well - er. Maybe? I don't know. But also... gender?"

  "Oh. Pronouns. I see. Well... as the common binary tongue does not really work for us, we simply pick whichever we prefer."

  "And you picked male because...?"

  "I flipped a coin."

  "What?"

  Loap laughed, then. He didn't do it often, so it was a breath of fresh air in the dank of the dungeon. "It's an old joke. No, I picked male because it was what the other Hale zeniths traditionally used. It would have felt like too much of a break with tradition to be otherwise. And as for preference... I have none. We can scent the makeup of others of our kind, but I do not find any scents preferable to others."

  "Oh."

  "We find it amusing, you know. Hleen and Human taboos about sexualised behaviour and the continuation of the species."

  "Well, it's... cultural! Like yours is."

  "Indeed."

  "And the Sianar?" she asked.

  "Well, they have known my people longest. They did not really seem bothered by our sexual identities or practices. They do not fetishise it in the same way that your people do."

  "We do not fetishise it!" she said, scandalised.

  "You are very easy to aggravate. It's taken your mind off the room, hasn't it?"

  "I hate you."

  "I know you do."

  "Let's play: 'I spy'."

  "...this is that game the Captain always threatens to play when the engine stops, isn't it?" Loap asked. "Do you even know how to play it?"

  "No, but we could make up something. I'm sure..."

  ***

  [Ashroe: Too. Cute. I think I'm going to throw up from cute.]

  [Sianor: And you wonder why you were single for so long?]

  [Ashroe: So throwing up on people when they buy you flowers is not a traditional courtship thing? The internet lied to me!]

  [Sianor: The internet regularly lies to you. Don't trust it. Even with citations.]

  [Ashroe: By Nikola Tesla's non-existent beard!]

  [Sianor: I'm sorry. Also you shouldn't trust things that are written inIMPACTfont.]

  [Ashroe: But that's how I know it's true!]

  [Sianor: You're new to scientific rigour, aren't you?]

  [Ashroe: No! I make hoverboards out of buttered, lightly toasted cats.]

  [Sianor: And... yep. Tesla just cried.]

  [Ashroe: The guy built a death ray and liked pigeons.]

  [Sianor: What's that got to do with anything?]

  [Ashroe: He probably enjoyed toasting cats, too.]

  [Sianor: I find myself strangely incapable of refuting that.]

  ***

  "I still think I should be contacting my family," Kre said, frowning.

  They'd taken her normal fake ruff from her, and were holding up various replacements against her hide as Nessin grew increasingly annoyed by the suggestions. Kre wasn't sure why her own wouldn't work. After all, Nessin wanted her to rip it off in the middle of the recording, anyway, to reveal her natural mane. She'd insisted that they'd be able to do things to the fur so that she could just shake it back sleek and 'poof-y' when the ruff was removed. Quite what 'poof-y' was, and why it was preferable, was beyond her comprehension.

  "I told you: if you reveal your hand, you lose the advantage."

  "What advantage? You said that Eru or my father have my friends!"

  "Yes, and if you reveal that you know that, and where you are, then what little power is still yours would be ground into a fine paste."

  "I
just want my friends back. I want my friends, and my ship, and I want to pretend I was never born Ail's daughter, and I want to never even see Raboros again."

  "Kre... if it's truly what you want, then that's what you have to say. You can control this. You can give Eru the throne. Ail wouldn't give it to you if you publicly humiliated him by disowning yourself."

  "I just... I would like to discuss this with Biann."

  "Why?"

  "Because... because she is my friend. And it is her sister as well as my friends who are in trouble. It concerns her."

  "It does, but do you really think she could advise you? Kre: she seems like a sweet thing, but she doesn't have any... understanding of the wider implications of things, shall we say?"

  "That's not--"

  "Nice? No. It isn't nice. It's fair. It's true."

  "What if I don't want... true. What if I want to live in a world of nice?"

  Nessin laughed, and Kre's hair stood up at the sound of it. "You know you can't just use your privilege and run, don't you? You have a responsibility to the world, even if your last action is to surrender. You enjoyed the benefits of your father's position - would you have been one of Maister Waith's brightest, without it? - and now it's time to pay the balance. Just one broadcast, and you can retire, forever."

  Kre wasn't so sure 'retirement' meant what she'd once thought, now.

  "Alright. But I want to talk to the Maister. He... he and I have... history. I would like to ask his advice one last time."

  "Alright. I'll make sure it happens. But remember: the interview starts in an hour. And it's live, so you'll need to be ready."

  "I will. I promise. I will."

  ***

  "Nessin told me that you wanted to speak to me?"

  "Maister Waith, yes." They were alone in the strange dressing room, now, and the new ruff on her shoulders felt uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as whatever they'd worked into her fur to make it 'pop'. Or 'explode'. Or something equally dramatic.

  "I assume you want me to counsel you on what to say."

  "No."

  "No?"

  "I already know what I should say. I know that if I don't say the things I've been asked to, that I will make a lot of enemies. But the truth is, I will make enemies no matter what I decide."

  "True. You cannot remain everyone's friend. Whatever you do for one will inconvenience another, somewhere down the line."

  "It's a matter of balancing out the good with the bad, and working out what serves your vision of 'right' best, isn't it?"

  "I believe you were particularly interested in the ethics sections of our lessons, Kre. You don't need me to approve your decisions, to ratify them."

  "I know. I want you to help me escape."

  "...oh, do you?"

  "This place... is not serving my best interests. It's serving Nessin's. She wants me only for what I can do for her."

  "Which is not evil, as you know."

  "I didn't say it was. But it is her primary motivation. She doesn't care so much for collateral damage, or for the goals of others. Her sight is too... restricted to realise that she would gain more influence if she was flexible."

  "You're still the Kre I always knew, then," the old Hleen said, his face ripping into a broad smile. "Nessin considers herself a major player, but she's still very immature at this. She's been surrounded by people who say 'yes' because of her deep pockets. It's about time someone said 'no'. But are you sure you cannot use her facilities to aid you, before you go?"

  "I do not wish to shame my father, or insult my sister. If they have taken my friends, then I will speak to them as an equal. I will not broadcast our internal, personal difficulties for the masses as a way to leverage my wishes."

  "Kre, I thought you'd never ask."

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Mission: Delumination

  "Tell me this was part of the plan, too?"

  "I'd say that even if it wasn't."

  "I might be able to tell if you were lying."

  "You wouldn't."

  Avery smiled at the row of guns pointing at them. The security officers weren't wearing riot gear, which was kind of insulting. Sure, the jackets were likely bullet-proof and knife-proof, but they didn't have helmets and shields. The assault rifles were a step up from the handguns most places equipped their early-responders with.

  "Gentlemen... oh, and ladies. I do beg your pardon."

  "Put your hands above your heads and kneel," one of them barked.

  "Easy now, we're unarmed," Vadim said. "Look."

  "Hands above your heads and kneel," the man repeated, louder, with a wave of the gun-barrel.

  "I think they don't like us," Avery said, turning to peer over his shoulder.

  Which was when all the lights went out.

  "FIRE!" someone yelled.

  ***

  Kre looked up at the ceiling, where the light had been coming from until only recently. "What...?"

  "Biann thought you'd work out that Nessin was using you. She's a very smart young woman. We arranged for her to interfere with the building's electronics at a suitable interval into my meeting with you."

  "She... I could kiss you both!" Kre exclaimed. "I do not deserve either of you!"

  "You can save your thanks for when we escape here safely. Although you are not technically a prisoner, I think that your departure would be strongly discouraged. Please, follow me. I am wearing night-vision lenses in preparation."

  "Lead the way."

  Outside, in the hallway, Kre could hear the panicked people running about. They'd managed to activate their various data devices, throwing small, blue lights around. There was no organisation, just chaos.

  "We're going to use the stairs," Waith said.

  "No. They will use those. If there is no power, there will be no alternative."

  "You said as much yourself: there is no alternative."

  "Not for a Hleen. But for a Sianar? If you are willing to let me carry you..."

  "Now who is the smart one?" Waith asked, chuckling. "I'm afraid I usually revert to logic and tool use. I forget that you can use your strength as easily as your mind."

  "Where are we going?"

  "We thought we would attempt to sneak out through the delivery routes. She would expect us to steal one of her vessels, but not one of the supply trucks."

  "Below us?"

  "Indeed."

  "Please... climb on. You will not hurt me. And tell me where we can find Biann-Tho."

  "We arranged to meet in the basement."

  "Then that's where we'll go."

  ***

  [Sianor: I love how we had the whole thing planned and the boys were going to save the day and then Biann just turns around and ruins everything.]

  [Ashroe: It's not ruined!]

  [Sianor: Quite! She's saving the day. But it's ruining the boys' plan. They're going to get a complex about trying to save people and finding them already gone.]

  [Ashroe: Too right. They need to suck at planning less. And B won't sit around waiting for Prince Charming to come rescue her. She'll be half way down the tower and whistling for the dragon to act as her mount before the Prince has finished finding his left greave.]

  [Sianor: She's badass. I also love it when they spring things on you, even if it causes more heartache. It means they're... alive.]

  [Ashroe: It stops things getting dull. I do try working out some things in advance, like the over-arching stuff, but half of the time if I do that, they rebel and go off the rails.]

  [Sianor: And it's a case of 'oh crap look there's another bad situation let's work out how to fix it' and you're just as in the dark as they are.]

  [Ashroe: I swear, half the time, I'm as in the dark as a reader would be. They just... come out with things.]

  [Sianor: Well, it's better than them refusing to talk.]

  [Ashroe: Oh, god, yes. I've had enough days dry and blank, hitting F5 on websites just to prove nothing's happened as they refuse to say more than
a few words. Or... worse. The days when you feel like you've written everything. You get that?]

  [Sianor: Written everything?]

  [Ashroe: Like... okay. There's canon. You can do things that don't contradict it, but the longer you go on, the harder it is to not contradict the show or book's source material. Or you can completely AU it. But how many AUs are there?]

  [Sianor: In...fin...ite?]

  [Ashroe: Well, sort of. But say... say you have a good guy and a bad guy. Or... protagonist and antagonist. Cop and criminal. Angel and demon. For example.]