by Loren Walker
Ozias turned away. “I'll be in touch. Settle your affairs. Because I'm going to need you very soon."
* * *
When the parcel was placed in Phaira's arms, she felt the hard ridges within.
"What is this?" she asked Emir, who bore the package.
"Your Calises," Anandi said from her bed. Her bandages had been freshly changed, and there was more life in her eyes and voice. "And your Ikani Mala passport."
Phaira jerked her chin back. "You've had them all this time?"
"You asked me to keep them safe in Liera. I just never had a chance to give them back to you."
Then Anandi frowned. "Well? Aren't you going to open your present?"
Phaira stared at the buddle. "I - I don't know. If I want them back."
Anandi frowned. "I thought you loved these things. You wanted to go back to my grandmother's house for them in Honorwell."
That made Phaira think of Theron. She neatly sidestepped the memory. "I do. I did. But they're - not right."
Anandi's face screwed up; she clearly didn't understand. Phaira opened her mouth to try and explain herself, but then pressed her lips together. She didn't want to get into the fact that the Calises not only reminded her of life in the military, but of all the mistakes she'd made. The pistols were exclusive, and complicated, and an ego boost to wield, but they weren’t practical, not for the line of work that Phaira was going into.
"I'll keep them," she told Anandi. "Thank you."
Unsaid, she made a vow: I'll keep them to remember who I was, and what I no longer am.
"You'll be safe, right?" Phaira couldn’t help but ask. “Without me here?”
"You sure can make a girl blush, Phaira," Anandi said with a tired smile. "Paranoid and protective as always. But I don't have much of a choice.
Then her smile faded. "How can you trust CaLarca to not hurt Sydel? I mean - after everything she's done? What if she - ?"
"We have a common goal," Phaira interrupted gently. "I believe her, and her intentions. For the first time, I really do."
Anandi gave a big huff of annoyance. "I really don't understand you people. And I think I'm going to stop trying."
"Ani," Emir chided gently.
Then he turned to Phaira. "I’ll watch the process," Emir confirmed. "Ensure that Sydel arrives safely in the South, and alert you if there's any hint of trouble or deception. In the meantime, Anandi will teach me to create security provisions around the property, ensure a no-fly zone is instilled, and that it stays off any maps. It will be invisible for as long as you want it to be, Phaira, we promise. She'll be safe."
Emir's voice grew tight. "I hope Sabik can help her. I'll be praying that he does, every day. And if I can help, somehow..."
Impulsively, Phaira reached out and hugged Emir tight around the shoulders. From the tiny squawk he let out, the man wasn't expecting the physicality, and Phaira felt awkward immediately, but she held on anyways.
"Oh sure, he gets a hug," she heard Anandi complain.
Phaira smiled against Emir's shoulder, and again when she felt the light pat on her back, a comforting pat, followed by a light rub.
* * *
Phaira dreamt of the bridge. She felt the whistle of air, and the hard smack of water. She struggled to keep her mouth at the water’s surface, even as it poured down her throat, and her lungs threatened to explode, and water came out of her eyes and mouth and ears.
When she woke in her cabin, the transfer process had begun. Thanks to Anandi and Emir, Phaira was able to follow Sydel's position remotely from the Arazura, and then from her Lissome, as she and Renzo arrived in the Cyan Mountains, and the town of Toomba. The grandmother, Vyoma, was waiting for them, straight and stocky, unmoving as the mountains. She instructed her militia to remove Cohen's body, housed in a cold storage compartment, from the Arazura hanger, and bring it into her house. Renzo and Phaira were glad to stand aside and let the woman take over with her gruff instructions.
Per tradition, Cohen's body was cremated in a deep hole in the mountains. The smoke made Phaira retch and Renzo nearly passed out in her arms.
And when darkness fell, Vyoma bundled straw together, binding it with rope to create limbs, and laying the straw body on a pyre. Cohen's ashes were shaken into the straw, and Vyoma set fire to it, while the residents of Toomba watched.
Smoke bloomed up into the night sky, and Phaira knew that it was over.
At the back of the crowd, one of the militia offered Phaira a grey twisted cigarette: to ease the mind, he told her.
She shook her head, and watched the fire.
Afterwards, Renzo and Phaira had flown into the south territory, to the outskirts of the town where camp had been set up, and construction had already begun on CaLarca's property. Phaira asked to be dropped down from a distance, so she could hike in and observe the security measures. Renzo agreed.
They didn't hug, nor say much other than farewell. Truthfully, it was hard for Phaira to look Renzo in the eye.
Then the Arazura glimmered blue in the morning light, rose over her head, and barreled away.
One day, Phaira thought as she watched it disappear. One day we'll talk about it. We'll figure it out.
As promised, Anandi and Emir had set up an impressive amount of security perimeters; as soon as Phaira stepped foot onto the property, an alarm was tripped. Drones swiveled overhead, and she heard the hum of electric fences an inch from her skin.
Soon, Ganasan came running, full of apologizes, but Phaira waved him off, pleased at the progress. No one would take a step onto the property without being noticed. Just as she wanted.
True to her word, Ozias had forwarded enough rana to get Sabik and his team on their way to the South. And Ozias had already provided the first assignment: reports of domestic violence with a couple in the Mac; strange, unexplainable behavior from the wife of the pairing, seizures, and prophecies that made her husband beat her more. Phaira was to investigate, observe, and depending on circumstances, either neutralize the situation or take the potential NINE into custody.
If this woman was NINE, Ozias warned in her notes, she needed help, and not just from her household. Perhaps there had to be some kind of resource for NINE in Osha. Maybe Phaira could be the first connection, could help to set up some kind of safe haven.
Phaira chose not to respond in that moment to that inquiry.
Instead, alone in the tent with Sydel, Phaira put the tip of her finger against Sydel's abdomen, wondering if there was a trace of a swell there, or if she was just seeing things. The girl's skin seemed flusher. She took deeper breaths, like her eyes were about to burst open. Maybe the child was keeping her alive. Maybe it would jumpstart her brain.
She pressed her finger into Sydel's abdomen, feeling the hard lump.
A child, in there. Cohen's child.
Phaira bent over Sydel's body, focusing on where her finger pressed.
I’ll be back, she whispered in her head. I’ll always come back.
THE END
Phaira Lore will return in Mobius Loop.
about the author
Originally from Ontario, Canada, Loren Walker works and lives in Rhode Island.
Her debut fiction novel, EKO, won the Library Journal Indie E-book Award for Science Fiction, was awarded a BRAG Medallion, shortlisted for the Half the World Global Literari Award, and selected as a Shelf Unbound 2016 Notable Indie.
Loren is also a Pushcart Prize 2017 nominee; her poems have appeared in QU Journal, the West Texas Literary Review, and River River, as well as the anthologies Routes and Frequency Writers City and Sea. Her first collection of poems + illustrations, Dislocation, was released in 2017.
thank you:
to my family and friends, my eternal cheerleaders.
to my beta reader Jill Corley, whose excitement to read my first draft make me smile every time.
to my editor Lindsay Galloway, and to Deranged Doctor Design, for making NYX look good.
and to you, for buying this bo
ok, and finishing this series with me.
