The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy

by Terra Whiteman

  No answer.

  Shadows played across the room; I could see him on the bed, the contours of his body lumping out beneath the sheets. I found the lamp, and the room was cast into a haze of soft yellow.

  “Dad?”

  Still nothing. I really didn’t want to shake him.

  But as I drew closer I realized that something wasn’t right. There was something wrong with his face. It was too pale, and his chest wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing.

  I touched his cheek. It was ice cold.

  The air left his room, and I collapsed on the seat at his desk. I gazed at him in a blank stupor, too shocked to even wear an expression. My father was dead, and I’d spent our last moment together punching him in the face.

  And now I had no idea what to do. How the fuck was I supposed to tell Tae? A part of me wanted to just walk out of his room and pretend I was never here, but that was cowardly. Then, my eyes settled on the bruise at the bottom of his cheek, and something else occurred to me—;

  What if I had killed him?

  I closed my eyes and held my face, hoping that this was all just a dream and I would wake up any second. Someone touched my shoulder.

  “Qaira, go and get your sister.”

  My hands slid from my face and I opened my eyes. Leid was beside me, gazing at my father with a forlorn look. I had no idea how long I’d been in here, but it must have been a while if she had come looking for me.

  “I… I-I can’t move.”

  “I’m sure your sister would rather hear the news from you.”

  I didn’t respond and she helped me out of the chair, guiding me to the door. “I’ll stay here until you get back, okay?”

  I barely heard her as I wandered into the hall.

  Tae was eating breakfast, reading a magazine. I lingered in the doorway, watching the happiness on my sister’s face. In a few seconds that happiness was going to be gone, and it might never come back. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for that, and stepped away from the dining room. But it was too late; she’d seen me.

  “Good morning! Are you and Leid going into the office late today?”

  I didn’t say anything, looking at the floor.

  “I made sure Epa saved you some tea,” she tried again, wary. And then she noticed that my eyes were wet. “What happened?”

  As my sister stood, I looked at her. My lips moved but my voice was gone.

  Tae walked to me and took my hand, squeezing it. “Qaira, what happened?”

  * * *

  By noon, over a dozen people were in our house. The Health Division took our father’s body away to determine the cause of death, while the Eye of Akul and a few other suits came to pay their respects.

  I didn’t really feel like talking to anyone so I just sat on our living room couch, staring jadedly into the untouched glass of wine in my hands. I kept replaying yesterday morning in my mind, and could have sworn that my father had hit his head on the dining table on his way to the floor. Cerebral contusion? Concussion? How would he have known? How would Tae have known? My father’s brain could have been bleeding all day and they’d merely gone about their business. I’d walked out on them.

  There was a tight feeling in my chest and I closed my eyes, trying not to cry. I couldn’t cry in front of these people; it would ruin my image and I’d lose their respect. Nehelian men weren’t supposed to cry. That was a behavior looked down upon once a boy stepped into manhood. Like any rule, there were a few exceptions, but this wasn’t one of them. Of course they had no idea that I was putting myself on trial over here.

  My sister was a fucking wreck. She floated around the room talking to our guests, her eyes puffy and swollen. Tae hadn’t even gotten dressed, still in her sleep gown. No one blamed her. Every now and then she would burst into tears and everyone would comfort her with generic lines of assurance.

  Leid wasn’t here. She’d agreed to take over my office duties for the day so I could stay with my family. That was a good thing, too, since in my state I probably couldn’t even drive.

  Ara sat next to me, watching our guests. “We’re burning Dad in two days,” he said. “Shev and Kanar want to make speeches during the pyre.”

  I nodded.

  “And I think you should say something as well?”

  “I’ve got nothing to say.”

  “Then think of something.”

  I kept quiet. Ara glared at me.

  “Will you snap out of it? This has nothing to do with yesterday morning.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because Eltruans don’t die from getting punched in the face.”

  “He might have hit his head on the table when he fell.”

  “Might have? Do you know that happened for a fact?”

  “I’m pretty sure it did.”

  Ara sighed. “Dad was old. He died of old age.” When I didn’t respond, he said, “I think you should make a speech, too. Our people will want to hear from the new Regent.”

  In all of the excitement, I’d completely forgotten that I was officially the Regent of Sanctum. I had been playing the part for years, but for some reason it never seemed so paramount.

  “Fine, I’ll think of something.”

  * * *

  The coroner stopped by our estate late that evening to give us an official cause of our father’s death. Heart failure.

  Ara had been right, but the news didn’t make me feel any better. In a way, it all was still my fault.

  Nehel had a strong belief in the karmic system. I’d done a lot of bad shit lately, and my father had paid the price. Karma was the universe’s way of keeping you in line; the only way you could really understand your mistakes. The prices of them.

  Tae had gone to bed an hour ago. Ara was working on a bottle of Cardinal.

  “You shouldn’t be drinking. It’s your shift to guard our supplies in two hours.”

  Ara looked at me like I’d just stomped on his nuts. “You’re actually sending me to work? Our father died this morning.”

  “The world doesn’t stop with his death. We should step up security for that reason.”

  “You didn’t go to work today!”

  “My work consists of budget reviews. Do you think the angels care that our father is dead? Are they sitting in their spaceship saying, ‘Oh, let’s give the Nehelians some time to mourn’?”

  Ara sneered. “Well then why don’t you guard the post with me?”

  “If I stay up with you all night, how am I supposed to go to work tomorrow?” I snatched the bottle from him, screwing on the cap. “You said it yourself; I’m the Regent now. When I give you an order, you’ll do it.”

  “You’re a heartless fuck, you know that?”

  Before I could respond, Ara stormed off. I heard the door slam.

  Sigh.

  Now it was just me and Cardinal.

  * * *

  It was the early morning and I was shitfaced.

  I’d taken about eleven shots, with one more left in the bottle. I had no idea how I was still conscious.

  The dining room spun around as I sat there staring at that lost shot, gathering enough nerve to finish it. My ears pricked to the sound of our front door opening, and my eyes slid to the dining room doorway as Leid appeared in it. She had seen to the craft progress in my absence. She had done a lot for me today and I wanted to thank her, but I was too loaded to string a sentence together.

  Leid could tell how far gone I was just by looking at me. Her face fell and she slipped into a chair across from mine, setting her bags on the table. “Is it working?”

  “Sort of,” I slurred.

  “You should probably go to bed soon if you hope to ever wake up in the morning. I can’t stand in for you tomorrow. You already have a backlog of meetings that I had to cancel today.”

  She’d been home for less than five minutes and I already wanted to scream. “You’re not my mother. If I want to drink on the day my father died, I have every right. And if you’re planning
to sit there and make condescending remarks, you might as well go away.”

  “Your father died yesterday. It’s two in the morning.”

  I glared at her, saying nothing.

  “Fine,” she said, getting up. “Ignore the good advice I’m trying to give you. And you’re welcome for taking care of all your crap today. Good night.”

  Okay, that was it. “Do I not get a free pass just this once?”

  She paused in the doorway, looking back.

  “Am I forever being recorded in your log of disapproval?”

  “You’re drunk and angry,” she said, coolly. “I understand, but you might want to curb your hostility before you regret it.”

  I laughed in spite of her. “Stop acting like you don’t judge me at every turn. All you do is treat me like I’m an incompetent asshole.”

  “That’s not true.”

  I shook my head, downing that last shot.

  “Actually, it is true. Because you are an incompetent asshole.”

  My eyes slid to her.

  “You have an entire world in the palm of your hand, yet you make the most appalling political and military decisions that I have ever seen. You clearly are not ready to take the throne, and me being here feels like a lost cause. You don’t take any advice, and you treat everyone around you like an enemy. So no, I don’t feel sorry for you, Qaira. I feel sorry for me and all the time I’m about to waste in this futile contract. Incompetent assholes don’t deserve free passes.”

  “Go fuck yourself, you pretentious bitch.”

  “You fuck yourself, you cowardly prick.”

  I threw the shot glass at her. It missed her head by an inch, shattering against the doorframe.

  She blurred from view, clearing the length of the dining room in a fraction of a second. Her fist cracked the side of my face and I was thrown with my chair into the kitchen. Before I could get up Leid was atop me with another fist wound.

  “You piece of shit,” she snarled, grabbing the collar of my shirt. “I could kill you in a heartbeat.”

  “Then do it.”

  Leid’s fist trembled. I grinned, showing her my bloodstained teeth.

  “Need more incentive?” I asked, goading. “I killed my mother when I was five hundred years old. She was scolding me for pulling out the flowers from her garden and I made her head explode. I stood there with her blood all over me and didn’t shed a single tear.”

  The anger on Leid’s face melted. Her fist stayed up.

  “The night before you arrived, I strangled a college girl when she tried to steal my malay. I wrapped my hands around her neck,” I explained, miming the action, “and crushed her throat. I looked right into her eyes as she died and I felt nothing. Nothing.”

  Leid’s fist fell. Her eyes trailed over my face, like I was an open window.

  “Two days ago I beat chairman Lev Gia to death with my bare hands. When I was done, I shot him fourteen times and spat on his body.”

  “Qaira, stop—”

  Leid was getting difficult to see. My vision was blurry and there was a tight feeling in my throat.

  “You want to kill me? I think you should. It would do this world a favor.” I winced, feeling hot tears roll down my cheeks. I hadn’t realized my eyes were wet, and I looked away so she couldn’t see me. “Get off.”

  Leid didn’t move. I tried to shove her away.

  “Get off! Stop looking at me!”

  She pulled my hands from my face and pinned them to the floor beside my head.

  I looked up at her, stunned.

  “You’re so beautiful when you cry,” she whispered, heavy-lidded. “So very beautiful.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what she was doing but Leid silenced me, pressing her lips to mine. I jolted in shock as her tongue slid along my teeth. The tightness in my throat was kneaded away as a tingling sensation crept across my stomach and groin. She rocked her hips, dragging herself back and forth over my crotch.

  And then we were rolling across the dining room floor, kissing savagely. I held her underneath me, burying my face into her neck; one hand clutched a fistful of her hair, the other disappeared up her dress, between her legs. Leid groaned, arching her back. She smelled like sex and flowers. My mind was spinning.

  She threw me off and tried to straddle me again, but I wouldn’t have it and picked her up, slamming her onto the dining table. The centerpiece and empty Cardinal crashed at my feet.

  Leid unfastened my belt, looking up at me with those huge violet eyes. I watched her, my breathing heavy with anticipation.

  When she freed me I leaned down, sliding up her dress. Her legs hooked my waist and her hands slid underneath my shirt, fingernails raking across my chest. Leid dragged her teeth along my neck, begging for it.

  The rest was a blur of heat and ragged breaths. I gave Leid everything I had through clenched teeth and she bucked against me with equal fervor, until she tensed up and whimpered into my neck.

  Leid was too warm; she felt too good. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  She sensed my nearness and kicked me off. I collapsed into the chair with a gasp. Before I could do anything she mounted me, burying me deep inside of her. Leid rode me through orgasm as I stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling, lips contorted in a silent scream.

  We sat entwined on the chair long after our breathing had slowed. Neither of us said anything, letting it all sink in. I couldn’t remember every clause in our contract, but I was pretty sure that I wasn’t allowed to fuck the scholar.

  We had been caught up in the moment, but something lingered even as we held each other. A sense of gravity and weightlessness; comfort and calamity.

  “You’re not a monster,” Leid whispered in my ear. “Just a man; nothing more, nothing less.”

  XVI

  THE PROMOTION

  “ARE YOU EVER GOING TO MOVE?”

  “No, this game sucks.”

  “Now, now; don’t be such a sore loser.”

  My eyes lowered to our wooden battlefield, where my two pawns, rook and king were floundering. Yahweh still had his entire court, save for a couple of pawns and a bishop.

  “Is this really what angels do for fun?”

  “Our military uses chess as a way to practice strategy,” he explained, twirling my queen in his fingers. “It builds patience and level-headedness.”

  “And boredom.”

  “Funny, I thought you liked this game.”

  “Yeah, until you beat me thirty-five consecutive times. Throw me a fucking bone over here.”

  The kid smirked. “Maybe you should work on your patience and level-headedness.”

  I left my stool, waving him off. “You win. I’m done.”

  Yahweh looked up, trying not to laugh. “Congratulations, by the way.”

  “For what?”

  “I heard you’re the Regent now.”

  “Oh.”

  “Your ceremony is tomorrow night, isn’t it?”

  “Where are you getting your information?”

  He beamed. “Leid.”

  I rolled my eyes, heading for the door.

  “And I’ll have you know that I find your reason for her being in the lab very insulting. I don’t make mistakes.”

  “Not even while you’re working for your enemy?”

  “I never make mistakes.”

  “Leid stays, kid.”

  Before Yahweh could protest, I shut the door. Punching in the code to the room’s digital lock, I hurried through the Commons and toward the training block. Time for Drill. I was already five minutes late, thanks to that stupid game of chess.

  The fifty Enforcers that I’d assigned tonight were assembling their gear and weapons in the armory. Ara was waiting for me at the arena entrance. I stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking him over.

  He wore the Commandant coat, black with red embroidered seams, tails at his knees. A headset hugged his right ear, a microphone coiling all the way to his mouth. This was a big night for him. It would be the first t
ime that he led Drill, and the last time I would watch it. As the official Regent, the Eye of Akul was forcing me out of the military domain. The Sanctum Enforcers were now entirely in my brother’s hands.

  My only task left was to train Ara to fly, as a prerequisite of being Commandant was to know every field in the Enforcer scope—piloting included. I’d decided to wait until Leid and Yahweh finished constructing our flight simulator.

  The simulator, as Yahweh described using much bigger words, was a computerized game that perfectly mimicked flying our upgraded crafts. Using a simulator meant we wouldn’t have any casualties during the training process.

  The new crafts were one-manned, as opposed to the ten-man one pilot flight cruisers we were familiar with. That said, we needed more pilots. Ara and I had spent several days interviewing recruits from the Sanctum Militia. Everything was slowly coming together, but there were still a few hurdles to jump. That was okay; I was a patient man. Sort of.

  “Keep a close eye on every team,” I said as the soldiers took the field.

  “Sir,” Ara replied, opening the observation room door and letting me in first.

  The Commandant stayed in the observation room during Drill. It was a room of glass above the field that gave you an excellent viewpoint of the arena. The field itself was a simulation of a city block in Sanctum and the scenery changed every several months to keep things fresh, otherwise soldiers would rely on memory instead of tactics.

  Drill was held once a week, and its soldiers were rotated out. There were hundreds of Enforcers in Sanctum but only fifty were assigned to each Drill. Most of them looked forward to it, using it as a way to blow off steam. My men took the exercise very seriously; they knew I was watching each and every one of them, and I made a point to always play favorites. But in this case my idea of favorite coincided with skill. And you didn’t want to make my shit-list, believe me.

  “Teams One and Two, get into position,” Ara ordered into the headset. “Teams Three and Four, wait behind the lines.” While the soldiers did as he instructed, Ara said aside, “So now that I’m the Commandant, am I allowed to give our teams better titles?”