Ixiah nodded, seeming to anticipate his next question.
“He sent one of his to aid our enemies?”
Evidently Lucifer was hurt by that. The angels were allied with Calenus. He’d worked on Felor more times than I could count, and his recruitment of my brother was supposed to be a fortification of that alliance.
Ixiah held Lucifer’s gaze, stony. “We are neutral, Commander Raith. Your race isn’t the only one that we aid.”
“Your race, you mean,” Lucifer said, coolly.
Ixiah’s façade broke then. He reclined in his seat, sighing. “Calenus sent Leid to a losing side. The odds were impossible. The Nehel weren’t supposed to win. I’m surprised that I’m sitting here, really.”
“Why would he send her to a losing side?”
“A passive form of punishment,” said my brother, slightly amused. “She’s caused some tumult in Exo’daius lately. Leid was cagey, and Calenus saw fit to have her sent away for a while. Despite her unruly behavior, she’s a formidable war tactician and hasn’t lost a single contract. A loss would have humbled her, or so my noble thought.”
How cruel.
There was a lengthy moment of silence. I stood and headed for the coffee station near the door. I needed a cup.
“What will you do now?” asked Lucifer.
“That depends entirely on you. I was told that Leid and the Nehelian Regent are MIA.”
Five days ago, my father shot Qaira in the stomach and he fell off the Ark. Leid jumped overboard with him. Although their plummet wasn’t survivable, our search teams couldn’t find them. We’d spent a day and a half skirting the tundra to no avail. Somehow they’d made it back to Sanctum.
“We haven’t found them, no,” Lucifer verified. “The only possibility is that they’re in Sanctum.”
“Then I will go there.”
“Right now?”
“No. Right now I will return to the Court of Enigmus and discuss the matter with the others. I’ll gather a team to recover Leid. You’ll just have to wait a little while longer, Commander.”
“That’s fine.”
Ixiah’s eyes lowered to Lucifer’s bandaged arm. “I’m very sorry that this happened to you. On behalf of the Court of Enigmus, I would like to formally apologize for the unprofessionalism that Leid Koseling has shown, and would also like to assure you that this isn’t custom.”
As I poured coffee, I wondered what would happen to Leid. I liked her, and Qaira, and the entire situation was almost too numbing to think about. I’d hidden most of how I felt from Lucifer and Ixiah—there was no arguing for Qaira’s life anymore, not after what he’d done.
If only this story had begun differently, ended differently.
Lucifer nodded solemnly and Ixiah stood, cuing that their conversation was over.
“We’ll be in touch, Lucifer.”
Lucifer. He’d called him Lucifer, and then he’d smiled. Not a true smile, but the goodbye had been much warmer than the greeting.
“Do you need to be shown to the port?” my father asked, beginning to rise.
“No need. I’ll find my way.”
And then Ixiah was gone.
I stood at the coffee station, sipping from my cup.
My brother’s appearance seemed to have invigorated Lucifer, as he’d finally begun to tend to that stack of paperwork. After a minute of silence, I too headed for the door, but just as I crossed the threshold, my father said, “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
I froze.
His tone hadn’t been angry, but a soft question. I suspected he knew the answer already.
I turned, trying to think of a response that didn’t sound treacherous. “I didn’t want this to happen.”
Lucifer only looked at me. It was hard to explain to him that after spending nearly half a year with Qaira and Leid, I had grown to know them, to like them. He wasn’t questioning my allegiance—I’d already proven my loyalty by betraying Qaira five days ago. But…
“This must be very hard for you,” he said.
I looked away, ashamed. He said nothing else and I retreated to the bridge.
My pager buzzed. I was needed at the medical ward. Namah had taken my place as Crylle physician, and I’d taken his as head doctor on the Ark. He wasn’t pleased to hear that they weren’t bringing him back in the foreseeable future. Lucifer didn’t want me out of his sight. Crylle was not a safe place to be, especially now.
I moved down the bridge with my eyes on my feet, hoping that some suturing and amputations could away my thoughts. The war was essentially won, but the price of our victory had cost us much.
And I felt that burden more than anyone.
I
FRACTURED
TULAN STEAK, MARINATED POI AND BLACKENED SAAR.
Tae had made all three of my favorite things for dinner tonight, and all I did was push the plate aside. My sister hung her head and cried. But it wasn’t her fault.
I couldn’t eat. My stomach felt as heavy as iron, laced with a searing hot pain that no medication could touch. The doctors had told me I was lucky to be alive, but I didn’t share their opinion.
I had failed; in more ways than one.
Leid had dragged me miles across the tundra, all the way back to Sanctum, and Ara’s men had found us at the borderlands. I’d woken up two days ago at Eroqam Medical Facility—what was left of it, anyway—with a hole in my stomach, a subdural hematoma and a crushed leg. Leid had suffered no injuries.
They’d stopped the bleeding and stitched me up, performed surgery on my leg and gave me medication for the migraine that raged full-throttle all day every day, but there was nothing they could do for my spirit. It was gone, annihilated along with my city.
“Qaira.”
I looked at Leid, who looked back at me with stern eyes.
“You need to eat something. You haven’t eaten since you’ve been home.”
My gaze drifted back to my plate. I wanted to eat—I really did. She didn’t understand the pain. “I can’t.”
“You can. Put the food in your mouth and chew. You’re going to die if you don’t.”
“Maybe that’s what I want,” I snapped, and her expression softened. “Have you ever thought about that?”
Tae cried even harder. My brother shook his head, muttered something under his breath, and left the table.
The softness in Leid’s expression faded. “Self-pity doesn’t suit you.”
Neither did the cast, or these bandages, or failure.
“Will you at least drink some water?”
I reached for my crutches. Without another word I hobbled out of the dining room. I needed silence; Leid was making my migraine even worse.
In ten seconds flat, she caught up to me, carrying my abandoned dinner plate. “You’re going to eat, even if I have to force this down your throat.”
“Leave me alone.”
“I won’t. Not until you get some food in you. The doctor said you have to keep eating or else your stomach acid will disrupt the healing process.”
I sighed, giving up.
In my room, Leid helped me into bed and I leaned against the headboard. She set the plate on my lap and took a seat in the armchair, watching. I grabbed the fork with a grimace and stabbed a piece of steak, lifting it to my lips. It tasted so good that I almost melted, but as soon as I swallowed the burning in my gut intensified. I laid there, unable to do anything except ride the worst pain I’d ever felt. It was so paralyzing that I couldn’t even scream.
Leid noticed the look on my face and winced. “Just a few more bites, please.”
Instead, I threw the plate at the wall. Dinner and porcelain scattered across the floor.
Leid hung her head.
“How did this happen?” I stammered. “How could this have happened?”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to be laying near-dead in this bed, with half of Sanctum in ruins beyond my window. We should have been celebrating the angels’ defeat
. I should have been giving my victory speech.
My vision blurred as tears glazed my eyes, but I choked them back. I was pathetic enough already.
“I didn’t drag you back here so you could give up,” Leid said. “Your people need you. They need to know what to do next.”
“I don’t know what to do next!” I shouted. “Why don’t you tell me what to do, Advisor Koseling?”
Leid looked away, wiping her eyes. “Surrender.”
I blanched. “What?”
“There’s nothing else we can do. You have to surrender.”
Those words had a stronger paralyzing effect than the pain. For a second I couldn’t even feel my stomach. “Never.”
“Your army is gone, half your city is in ruins, and over a hundred thousand of your people are dead. Do you want to lose everything? Kill everyone?”
I’d already lost everything, and the truth hurt worse than any wound. “You could do it.”
“… Do what?”
“Destroy the Ark. You told Raith that you could do it.”
She looked at me as if I’d just slapped her. “I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
“Both. I only did that to save you. I’m not going to kill an entire race for winning fair and square.”
“If you don’t, they’ll kill me.”
“They won’t kill you if you surrender.”
“I’m not surrendering.”
Leid clenched her jaw, saying nothing.
“And I didn’t ask you to save me,” I said through my teeth. “I would rather die than face defeat. That has always been the Nehel way. In hindsight I have no idea why I ever put my faith in you. We lost, even with you here.”
Anger had taken control of my mind. I’d regretted saying that the moment it left my mouth, but the damage was already done. Leid stared at me like I’d ripped out her heart and stomped it into red mush. Blood tears trickled down her cheeks, and she left my room with her face in her hands.
“No, wait—” I reached for her, but she was already gone. “Leid, wait! I’m sorry!”
Silence.
I cursed under my breath as the searing in my gut resumed. It placated me, and soon I fell into restless sleep, dreaming of Maghir’s Ocean.
***
Our craft swept over the wreckage of Upper Sanctum, a sea of rubble and high-rise carcasses. Streets were buried by debris and covered in smoke from still-burning fires deep below the ruins. The sky was the color of ashen coal, still and somber. Everything seemed dead.
Everything was dead.
Ara and I watched the scenery pass with solemnity. We hadn’t spoken at all since our departure from Eroqam, and the tension was getting thicker by the second.
We were on our way to the pyres, where a hundred thousand bodies lay waiting to be burned. Usually pyres were individual ceremonies, but the body count was too high. We would burn our dead in bulk.
In bulk. What an ugly phrase.
This would be my first appearance since the battle, and the thought of facing my people made me tremble. I would have to give a speech, on crutches, assuring them that everything would be alright. I’d have to preach hope and other worthless crap that I didn’t believe. And they would look on at me in anger and disappointment, wishing I had died in battle.
The migraine moved to my forehead, its pressure like stout fingers pushing out my eyes. I wanted to slam my head through the windshield so everything would end.
As we descended through the pyre fields, my brother glanced around the cabin. “Where’s Leid?”
“I don’t know.”
He stared, waiting for an explanation.
“We had a fight. She took off this morning and I haven’t seen her since.”
“What did you fight about?” he asked, looking out the window.
I hesitated. “She wants me to surrender.”
“You should.”
Ara, too?
“Sanctum can’t take another hit like this. We’re done, Qaira. We gave it our best fight, but we’re done.”
The pyres were being prepped by our incinerators, and clouds of smoke billowed into the sky like black torpors. It covered our craft, and neither of us could see. When we landed, Ara exited first and offered his hand as I steadied my crutches.
“It should have been you,” I said quietly.
“What?”
“You should have been Regent.”
He stared at me, abashed. I limped away, disappearing through the smoke.
***
Corpses covered in white sheets, laid across planks, were carried up the ramp to the pyres by groups of Yetans—priests of Maghir—while the audience sang Moritorian hymns. Their voices rose with the smoke, entrenching a cadence of sorrow. The stench of burning flesh made my stomach churn as I stood stone-faced with a row of officials behind the ramp.
The smoke cleared and I saw Lakash’s wife and daughter in the front row, their faces tired and tear-stained. Neither of them looked at me.
And then I looked at other people’s faces. Their pain screamed at me, and I thought about everything I’d done—every order I’d given, every decision I had made without any consideration as to whom it would affect. For a decade I had led them, but I had never seen them.
I’d struggled with a speech for the pyre all morning, but now I knew exactly what to say.
The hymns died, giving way to the dozen speeches that followed. I was last, so I had to sit through another forty minutes of transparent promises of rebuilding and becoming stronger than before. Hope and transcendence and blah blah blah. At one point I scoffed and some of the officials turned to look at me.
Their promises meant nothing, and it angered me how they spewed lies to our people. I was the one that had to fulfill these promises, and I couldn’t. There were no repercussions of their false comfort. They would look like heroes and I would be the asshole that couldn’t meet their goals.
They even spoke for me. The Regent this; the Regent that—the Regent was a fucking idiot who’d just destroyed his own city. I’d promised to crush the angels and all I’d ended up crushing was our world. And my leg.
And then it was my turn.
I hobbled to the ramp as the audience watched me silently, keeping my gaze down in fear of seeing the pity in their eyes. No one needed to tell me I looked like shit.
The grass was easy to get across, but the gravel posed a challenge. One of my crutches got stuck between loose rocks and I almost fell, but a guard rushed to steady me. I shoved him away, snarling. “I’m fine.”
He backed away at my rejection.
It took me almost ten minutes to get up the ramp because I refused any help. Once there, I looked over the eighty thousand Nehelians who had gathered at the pyre fields, a sea of faces almost stretching to the Aeroway.
I inhaled, and began.
“I have failed you, Sanctum, in more ways than you know. I am not the man you think I am. I’ve never been that man, and I have ruled without empathy or regard for causality.”
Confusion emanated from the crowd. People looked at each other, questioningly.
Ara stood, narrowing his eyes. I had to hurry.
“If my father could see me now, he would cry. He would cry because the son he’d always believed in has destroyed the only thing he’d left behind. He trusted me with Sanctum, but he may as well have given Sanctum to a child.”
My brother said something to his soldiers, pointing at me. They headed for the ramp, and the crowd began to murmur.
“I could have killed Commander Raith! I had him at my feet, but I chose a minute more of his suffering over the lives of my men! Sanctum, we are doomed! We are doomed because I am your leader!”
“He’s lost it! Get him off the stage—!”
A guard approached me, gingerly, and asked if I could hand him the microphone and step off the ramp. I told him to fuck off.
Cameras flashed as another group of guards tackled me, ripping the mic from my hand. It took
five of them to apprehend me and drag me from the stage, all the while I screamed and thrashed, drowned out by the thunder of hysteria. Over and over I shouted the same thing with eyes raised to the bruised sky, like a prayer for a deaf, frigid god:
“SANCTUM, PLEASE FORGIVE ME!”
II
PREDATION
FOR THE REST OF THE DAY, I’D LOCKED myself in my room. The phone rang off the hook and I heard my sister telling Sanctum PB to leave us alone, her pleas shriller and shriller each time.
Ara was forced to spend the afternoon at Eroqam dealing with the fallout from my episode of post-traumatic stress, or so he’d deemed it.
I was waiting for the officials to motion for my impeachment, but that motion never came. Instead I was glorified for my freak-out. Idolized. The crowd had been moved by my confession, and the media quickly swooped in to fuel the flames. According to them, my melt-down was the product of my guilt; I was heartbroken that I couldn’t protect my city and its people. Moreover, the Yetans preached that Maghir had brought me back from the dead, as I’d returned from the Ark alive, despite impossible odds and fatal injuries.
I’d gone to the pyres looking for reparation, to be made a pariah. Instead I was deified even more. What the fuck was wrong with everyone?
My sister had forced me to drink some kind of herbal tea that had smelled like moss and tasted like swamp water, and it was burning the shit out of my stomach. I lay in bed and watched the light change across my bedroom wall, panting and wishing for death.
I fell asleep before dinner, and awoke at sunset to someone’s hand sliding across my chest. Leid sat at my bedside, looking me over with concern. The dying sun bled through my window and cast an orange haze over us, making the moment surreal. The violet of her eyes was muted by the light, and now they glittered like gold.
“I thought you were gone,” I said, nearly whispering.
“I almost was,” she said, lowering her gaze. “But I couldn’t leave you. I heard about what happened. I saw your speech on the news. Qaira, I’m sorry. I should have been there.”
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 47
