Every three days or so Leid would decrease my malay dose just enough for me to suffer. And, no sooner had I gotten used to the adjusted amount, I was forced to suffer again.
Life moved by in a blur, a hazy form of incoherence. Work days came and went as I floated aimlessly through a chemical dream. I was surprised no one had noticed my evident decline.
“What do you think, Commandant?” asked Kanar, and I snapped back to reality. Everyone was staring at me, awaiting an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.
“Uh,” I stalled, looking to Leid with a desperate wince, “I…”
“We discussed it yesterday evening,” she said, swooping in to my rescue. She handed Kanar a sheet of paper. “Here is the list of materials I will need in order to begin building the necessary components of the craft. Dr. Ysam, I want to get you acquainted with our angel detainee, Yahweh Telei, who I’m hoping can come up with a prototype.”
“The Archaean has agreed to help us?” asked Isa.
“Agreed,” I recited, laughing dryly. “As if he has an option.”
They looked at me.
“Please excuse the Commandant,” Leid said, clearing her throat. “He hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, as we’ve been working around the clock to get our project in order.”
More like I hadn’t gotten much sleep lately because I woke up three times a night choking and shaking. When everyone went to bed, Leid slipped into my room and slept in my armchair. She kept me under heavy supervision in case my lungs failed in the middle of the night. That had happened three times.
While she did everything in her power to keep me alive, I thought about murdering her a dozen times a day. In fact, I was doing it right now.
Shev glanced over the materials list. “The angel detainee will tell us how his people built their crafts, and based on what we have here, we’ll replicate them. Is that what you’re saying?”
Leid nodded. “Expect some deviations because we aren’t using the same protocols.”
“Understood.”
“I can’t tell you how delighted I am to see how far we’ve come. Saying it’s a pleasure to have you with us is an understatement, Advisor Koseling,” praised Isa.
Ugh, that bitch was stealing my life.
Leid patted my arm. “Please, I can’t take all of the credit. I’m only doing what the Commandant instructed me to.”
“Your father would be very proud,” said Kanar.
I shot him a look. “You make it sound like he’s dead.”
Leid squeezed my arm, hard enough to hurt. “Thank you all for coming. We’ll be sure to keep the Eye of Akul updated as we proceed.”
When everyone filtered out of the council room, she gave me a venomous look. “Could you please be professional?”
I said nothing, shoving my stuff into my briefcase. She held the door for me as I left.
“You’re almost to half your regular dose, Qaira. It won’t be long until you’re completely rid of malay.”
I paused in the doorway, leaning down until our noses almost touched. “And how long until I’m rid of you?”
Leid tried to shake that off, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. “Hate me if you must. Meet me before dinner so I can give you another dose.”
She walked away, not looking back.
I headed in the opposite direction, off to enforcer training.
* * *
The only upside to quitting malay so far was that my appetite came back. That evening my family watched me plow through seconds, and then thirds of dinner.
But I paid for that a little while later, when I spent the better part of an hour puking all the dinner I’d eaten into the toilet. Leid had injected a dose before I’d sat down at the table, but it was less than that of this morning’s. Her decrease was premature; I hadn’t been given enough time to adjust. It was probably her way of getting back at me for my remark this afternoon. Fucking bitch.
I staggered to my bedroom and collapsed in bed, curling onto my side. I must have passed out then, because when I opened my eyes again there was someone shaking my arm, and the light from my window was gone. The room was pitch-black.
A whisper. “Qaira.”
Leid.
I shook her off, not turning around. “Get out.”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Come to enjoy the show?” I asked, laughing. The laugh turned into a cough a second later. I shivered.
The bed shifted as she sat on the edge of it. Her silhouette crept into my peripherals. “I don’t enjoy seeing you like this. I know you think I’m doing this for some sick form of entertainment, and that really upsets me.”
“Get out!” I shouted. “You’ve practically turned me into a cripple, reduced me to nothing, and now you’re trying to invade the only hour away from you that I have?”
“I won’t get out until you stop moping around and feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I’m not moping! I was sleeping because I spent the evening puking up my insides!”
“Get up.”
“I can’t move.”
“Get up!”
Leid ripped me out of bed and I fell to the floor. Before I could even respond she grabbed my shirt and pulled me up, slamming my back into the wall. My tired, blood-shot eyes were wild with disbelief.
“The pity party is getting old, Commandant. If you’re such a strong man, why don’t you fight this? You’re going to let some drug get the better of you? You’re Qaira Eltruan, the Savior of Sanctum, son of the Regent and the man who can—”
“I know what you’re trying to do, and it isn’t working.”
Even in the darkness, her eyes gleamed violet. “We’re almost there, Qaira. You’re so close to being free of this drug. You think I’ve put a leash on you but you’ve been in chains for decades. You are a slave to malay, and it’s time to take the shackles off.”
“I don’t think I can take it. It feels like I’m dying. You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But if you give up, then you’re going to die. And… I don’t want you to die.”
Slowly, I looked down at her. Leid looked up at me. There was a moment.
“So, how hard was that to say?” I asked, smirking.
She only smiled and looked away, heading for the door. “Come, I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“See for yourself.”
* * *
Leid had spent several days cleaning up the music room. The layers of dust were gone, the instruments shined on display, and my mother’s cello and violin were waiting for us beside two chairs in the center of the room.
Seeing this stirred up a few emotions in me, not all of them good ones. In part I felt like Leid had desecrated the only sacred memories I’d had left of my mother, but at the same time she’d brought life back into a decaying place that everyone else had forgotten.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I asked.
“I’m going to honor your mother and teach you how to play that violin. Every time you feel like life’s about to crush you, I want you to come in here and play.”
Leid took a seat beside the cello and looked at me, but I hadn’t moved. She could sense the wariness in my gaze. As I debated whether or not to follow her in, she tucked the cello between her legs and began to play. The song she played this time was sad.
I watched her, entranced. The world fell away, and I floated in stasis. She was right; it was helping. Her music was ataractic, and for a second I forgot how sick I felt.
After a minute or two she stopped playing. I moved inside and took a seat beside her. Leid’s eyes lowered to the floor; raven threads of hair slid across her shoulders, hiding her face.
“How did you learn to play so well?”
“There are almost identical versions of the cello on numerous planets throughout the multiverse,” she whispered. “I learned to play the strings several centur
ies ago, when something terrible happened to me. Music is a language that needs no words to express how I feel. And like this, my agony is beautiful.”
I looked away, silent. When the silence became too much to bear, I said, “I don’t hate you, you know.”
She turned to me.
“I wanted to. Tried to. But I can’t.”
I picked up the violin, looking over the polished white wood. My eyes lingered on the engraving my mother had designed for it: Q.
When I looked back at Leid, she was smiling. The smile wasn’t one I’d ever seen on her before.
“I’m very happy to hear that, Qaira.”
XI
COMPOSURE
I WAS RELIEVED TO FIND THAT I WAS still on time for our detainee’s morning meal schedule; even after I’d spent half an hour in Eroqam’s private restrooms puking my guts out. That was becoming ritual for me. I didn’t know why I kept trying to eat breakfast.
Tae and Ara had begun making remarks about how sick I looked, telling me they were worried. I’d told them it was because I wasn’t getting much sleep from all the work I had, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t believe me.
Despite all that, I was in a good mood today. Leid gave me an injection this morning and it was the first time that I didn’t think of killing her. Instead we spoke about the weather.
And since I was in such a good mood, it was time to try to persuade the white kid into working for us. Because Leid had (repeatedly) emphasized the fact of not laying a finger on him, I didn’t want to go into his holding room without some level of patience.
I caught one of my guards in the hall. He was carrying Yahweh’s breakfast tray to his room.
“I’ll take over,” I said, snatching the tray. I punched in the code and opened the door, finding the boy sprawled over the bed on his stomach, reading a book. He didn’t even look at me as I walked in.
“This must be a special occasion,” he said as I placed the tray on the desk beside the bed. “Commandant Qaira Eltruan has come to grace me with his presence.”
I smirked at his indignation, taking a seat across his bed. I’d spoken to Yahweh three times before now, but he still made me uncomfortable. A kid his age shouldn’t have been able to anticipate an out-of-routine event just from my appearance, let alone critically analyze it using an impressive vocabulary. I glanced at the book he was reading.
“How are you finding the History and Political Inflections of Sanctum in the Adoria Era?”
Yahweh shrugged. “Not sure. I can’t read it.”
“Just enjoying the pictures?”
“I’m trying to learn Nehelian in written form.”
“And how’s that going for you?”
“Not so well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll get me some paper and writing utensils so I can take notes while I’m trying to learn.”
“Writing utensils are sharp.”
Yahweh looked at me, annoyed. “Must I really promise not to kill myself?”
I laughed quietly.
“So what do you want, Qaira Eltruan?”
“You don’t have to say my last name every time you address me.”
“Being on a first name basis represents a level of intimacy that I don’t care to have with you.”
I made a face. “Intimacy.”
“Again, why are you here?”
I decided to cut the small talk, since the kid wasn’t biting. “We need you to help our science research team replicate your angel crafts.”
Yahweh smiled. “No.”
“That isn’t really an option; sorry if I made it sound like one.”
He leaned into my face, looking me over. “Are you sick? You look terrible.”
“We’ve gathered the materials that we need,” I said, ignoring him, “and would like you to draw us up protocols for a design—”
“I’m not doing it.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t really need me anyway,” he said, pouting at his book. “I’m sure your scholar could do all that for you.”
“You know about Leid?”
“Of course I do. I’ve seen a dozen scholars in my lifetime, not to mention she looks nothing like you. But tell me; do you know what they really are?”
I was sure the kid could tell that I didn’t.
“Eroqam is playing with fire, Commandant. You have no idea of the lines you’re crossing right now.”
I sighed. “So, this can go one of two ways. Either you help us willingly or I’m going to have to make you help us.”
“You can’t hurt me. Your scholar said that, didn’t she?”
I leaned in, narrowing my eyes. “Leid said that I couldn’t lay a finger on you. She never said I couldn’t hurt you, and I am a resourceful man. There are plenty of ways that I could hurt you without touching you, Yahweh Telei. Would you like to see them?”
The defiance melted from the kid’s face. He looked away, at the bed. “No.”
“No as in you still won’t help us, or no as in you don’t want to find out how I can hurt you?”
“What do you want me to do?”
I reclined in my seat, smiling victoriously. “Smart boy.”
“I really wish that wasn’t the case right now.”
Getting out of the chair, I slid his breakfast tray to him. “Eat something. Leid and I will return for you later on with all of the details.”
“Can I please have something that will stimulate me?” he begged. “I’m going insane with boredom in here. And I won’t be much help to you if I have a psychotic breakdown.”
I grinned, heading for the door. “If I were you I’d relish the boredom, because pretty soon you’re going to be very, very busy.”
* * *
Leid waited for me in the flight port hallway, holding my briefcase.
She always had my briefcase, though I had no idea why. At first I was late three days in a row because I turned our house upside down trying to find it, only to discover Leid had taken it to the port. She’d said it was one less thing I had to worry about. I never looked for it anymore.
I nodded at Leid and she held my briefcase out to me. I took it, and we walked to my craft.
Nothing was said for the first half of our trip. Leid couldn’t seem to handle the anticipation anymore and looked at me. “So?”
“So what?” I asked, smirking.
She frowned at my playfulness. “Did Yahweh agree?”
“Yes.”
“Did he agree without you hitting him?”
“Yes.”
With a satisfied smile, she leaned back in her seat. “Good.”
And then we hit traffic. I cursed under my breath, looking at the clock on my dash. At least we still had another twenty minutes.
“You didn’t eat very much this morning,” Leid noted.
“Technically I didn’t eat anything, since it all went into the toilet.”
“You need to try to keep some food down. You’re losing a lot of weight.”
“Well why don’t you try convincing my stomach of that with your stunning logic. I’m sure it will listen.”
“I bet clear liquids would go down easier than pastries and tea. Why don’t you try water and broth?”
“That sounds fucking delicious, Leid.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I said, “Stop mothering me. I’m fine.”
She shrugged and glanced out the window. “Suit yourself.”
It’d been five minutes and we’d only moved ten feet. We were going to be late. I glanced at Leid as she stared out of the passenger side window, recalling what Yahweh said earlier this morning. Curiosity was settling in.
“Tell me about the Court of Enigmus,” I said.
She looked at me, surprised. “What do you want to know?”
“Where are they?”
“Far away; another universe.”
“Another universe? There’s more than one?”
“There are thirteen that
we know of.”
“What’s your definition of a universe? I was always taught to understand that a universe was infinite.”
“A universe is not infinite, though to lesser beings it would seem that way. Universes are actually spherical; it’s like a giant planet, so you’d never reach an end per se.”
“How do you get to another one?”
“A being from one universe cannot enter another universe. The multiverse is a web of universes connected only by their situation. They sit side by side in almost a flower arrangement.”
“You said the Court of Enigmus was from another universe.”
“We’re different. To my knowledge we’re the only beings able to cross universes without succumbing to the effects of their alternate physical laws.”
“Alternate effects?”
She smiled. “In my world, Qaira, I would not be nearly as strong as you. The laws are different in your universe. It changes my strength and speed.”
The traffic cleared and we were able to move again. “How do you travel to different universes?”
Leid arched a brow. “Why are you so curious?”
“I don’t know. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We travel through tears.”
“Tears?”
“Portals, sort of; ripples in the space-time continuum. There are over a hundred across your galaxy alone, and they bridge us to another universe.”
I stared at her, baffled.
Leid sensed my confusion and paused, tapping her chin. “Okay, think of it like this: each universe is connected in a sort of flower/web type order, like a wall connecting two offices together. All matter vibrates, even if you can’t see it. In certain areas, resonance is strong enough that the matter moves aside and we can travel through it.”
“So you can travel through the wall.”
“Yes, precisely.”
“Does your body’s matter get displaced when you go through?”
Leid blinked. “How do you know about that?”
“I almost got a degree in aerophysics.”
She seemed surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I know you thought I was stupid. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 31
