by Erica Rue
Her uncle’s assistant called the next name. “Claudia Lopez.”
Cora recognized the girl to her right who had just been called. She stepped forward and clenched her jaw, as if bracing herself for impact. When her Match was announced, the girl reminded Cora of a tree in a storm. She inhaled sharply and swayed a little bit, but she did her best not to react. Cora could see her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands.
A man climbed onto the stage and took the girl’s hands in his own so that they faced each other. When he turned, Cora examined the bald spot on the crown of his head. He had to be almost forty. He looked pale, and he spoke the words of the ceremony quietly, like he was afraid of them. Cora felt a knot tighten in her stomach.
The couple turned back toward the crowd and smiled before stepping off to one side. When she had been a part of the crowd, exchanges like that had looked so different. The whispered words that joined the couples in marriage had seemed romantic, and she had never looked too closely at the already-paired couples once they stepped out of the audience’s gaze. Sometimes they cried, but her aunt had always told her it was just their nerves. Up close, Cora could tell that it was more than nerves.
Her uncle’s aide spoke her name into the amplifier.
“Cora Bram, please step forward.” The crowd cheered loudly for their next Regnator.
For the first time in this process, Cora felt afraid. It was finally happening, and all her faith in the Farmer was not enough to settle her anxiety. Deep breaths. It’s just nerves.
“The Match for Cora Bram, which will best promote the health and longevity of our people, is… Jai Wilderson.”
The knot in Cora’s stomach disappeared and was replaced with nothing. A hollowness grew inside her, and the only thing she could feel was her heart pounding so hard that her fingers felt numb. Jai, a stranger, her Match, was walking across the stage, and his approach snapped her back to reality. He smiled widely. He had brown skin and dark, wavy hair. When he got close, she realized how tall he was. His brown eyes seemed kind. He couldn’t be more than twenty, and she had to admit, he was extremely handsome.
But he was not Will. Will was still out there somewhere, in the crowd, watching. Jai took her hands, but he did not say the ritual words. They would not be married today onstage like the other couples had been. The crowd broke into thunderous applause. They approved of this Match, like they had all the others, but hers would yield the next generation of Aratian leadership.
She would hold onto the fact that they would not be married today. Her uncle, in his worry, had made a mistake. The aide had read the wrong name. No, those thoughts were wrong. They felt like the other things she had told herself that turned out later to be lies. They might not be married today, but they would be eventually.
Jai led her to the right side of the stage where the other pairs waited. In a low voice he spoke the first words she had heard from him.
“Cora, it is an honor to be your Match. I can see that you are uncertain, but all I ask is that you give me a chance. We have been paired for a reason.”
Cora gave him a small smile that vanished as quickly as dew in the hot morning sun. She did not have the words right now. She looked out into the audience, examining every face in her search for Will, but there were too many people. She couldn’t find him.
Will had known this would happen, even when she had been so certain that it was the Farmer’s will for them to be together. This was the second time that her faith had been misplaced. She had believed that the Farmer chose her to help Lithia. Lithia had had a communicator, and she looked so much like her grandmother Miranda. Cora had believed her. That had gone poorly. Lithia told her that the Farmer was a liar. He was not a god. Now the Farmer had let her down again. Lithia might have been telling the truth about him after all.
Cora had believed that Will would be her Match. Why? Because she wanted it to be true. Her aunt had tried to warn her that morning, but she hadn’t wanted to listen. Her aunt was probably enjoying this, watching her suffer up onstage. That thought was enough to put a fake smile on her face as she waited for the cheering to die down.
She looked around at the other girls. Some looked pleased with their strong, young husbands, while a few sniffed quietly to hold back tears. Did they have sweethearts, too? Or were they just unhappy with their Matches?
One girl, the second to be matched, stood next to a severe-looking man in his early thirties. He had a hand around the girl’s waist, but she was leaning away from him. She tried to step away, but he closed his other hand over her wrist.
“That hurts,” she whispered.
“If you don’t move, I won’t have to do this,” he replied.
The sight sent chills down Cora’s spine. How had she never seen this before? How could she have revered such a custom? Was this this the true face of Aratian honor and duty?
For the first time in her life, Cora questioned the wisdom of the Matching.
27. DIONE
Dione looked at the shuttle’s camera feeds displaying the destroyed Ficaran settlement. She’d been there days ago, but now it was unrecognizable. The buildings were still standing, sure, but the town was marked.
She could see scorch marks and debris, and what could only be bodies. She even saw a bunch of green dots in the streets. Dead Vens.
Benjamin and Moira were silent. Benjamin got up and moved to the front of the Flyer. Dione was alarmed at first, but it became clear that he just wanted to see it with his own eyes.
The First Geneticist looked surprised, like he had expected the camera feeds to be a lie. Dione felt for the Ficarans. She had no idea what it must have been like, trying to escape from this place. She looked at Lithia, whose back was to her. What had happened to her and Brian as they tried to escape?
“There should be more Ven bodies,” Lithia said. She took the Flyer for another pass over the town.
“I wish they were easier to kill, too, but—” Dione began.
“That’s not what I mean. We killed more. I know we did.”
Dione felt a shift in their movement. Lithia was taking them down.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Benjamin said, taking up the communicator in his hand. Moira put her hand on his own, stopping him. She looked curious.
“Lithia, stop it. Take us to the Mountain Base,” Dione said as calmly as she could.
“Just give me a minute,” Lithia muttered. “I want to check something.”
“Now’s not the best time.”
Benjamin looked angry, but Moira looked concerned.
Lithia set them down in the square. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute. Di, give me your machete.”
Now armed, Lithia headed off into the settlement. Dione was worried she would have to stall Benjamin, who looked eager to use his shiny, new communicator, but Lithia was back in just a few minutes. In fact, she was sprinting.
A Ven, moving more slowly than Dione would have expected, was in pursuit. Benjamin and Moira watched, agape.
Dione didn’t wait to hop into the copilot seat. “Stay put,” she said to the two passengers. Twenty seconds later, when Lithia arrived, everything was ready for take off.
“They aren’t really dead, Di,” Lithia said as she leapt aboard. “That one back there was in some sort of stasis, healing itself.”
“That’s… good to know,” Dione said. She glanced back at Benjamin and Moira, who looked alarmed. Maybe this would help the talks?
Once back in the air, Lithia did not linger over the broken town. Soon the mountain was looming ahead of them. Lithia landed, and the professor was right outside the shuttle, waiting for them. He was wearing his own StellAcademy uniform so that he stood out among the Ficarans.
“Where’s Zane?” he asked, furrowing his brow as he peered into the empty shuttle behind them.
“He volunteered to stay behind as a hostage with Colm,” Dione said. “He wanted to see if he could fix any of their equipment with the spare parts he found here.”
/>
“Well, that was very nice of him, wasn’t it?” Professor Oberon said, looking pointedly at the Aratian newcomers. A moment later, he was smiling again, welcoming them.
“This is Benjamin Bram,” Dione said.
“I’m Elian Oberon of the Calypso,” the professor said, motioning to his ship. “And you are?” He addressed the woman who had come with Benjamin.
“Moira,” she said, giving him a terse smile and a nod. She and Benjamin stared at the Calypso.
Dione tried to imagine what they might think of the professor’s ship. It was much larger than the Flyers, and it looked completely different. From their uniforms to his ship, Professor Oberon was trying to show them that he and his students were a third party. They were not on a side, no matter what Benjamin might think. Even so, Dione didn’t think it was working.
“Victoria is in a conference room on one of the upper levels, if you’d like to get started,” Professor Oberon said.
“Please. I’d like to get back as soon as possible,” Benjamin said.
“I heard you have the body of one of these… Vens,” Moira said. “I’d prefer to examine it, if you could point me in the right direction.”
The professor gave Dione and Lithia a look. Should we let her?
Lithia nodded at him. “Moira is a scientist. She was working on replicating the anti-parasitics we used to cure Bel.”
“Before you stole my sample, little thief. I’d like that back as well,” Moira said, though she sounded more amused than angry.
“Bel can help you,” Dione said. “She’s already begun the dissection. She’s the one we saved with the anti-parasitics,” she added, in hopes it would help Moira excuse their crime.
Professor Oberon led them inside, past the armed guard at the entrance. Dione saw Benjamin shift uncomfortably. Inside was the confusion of ongoing triage and the treatment of minor injuries, though it was much more subdued than the night’s chaos, from what she understood. Some were sleeping, but many had been sent down to the apartments in the lower levels.
Benjamin and Moira looked around the atrium, eyes wide, mouths closed. They seemed shocked. Even frightened.
Good. They should be. Maybe seeing so many wounded would make Benjamin approach these negotiations with the gravitas necessary to save this colony. From what Dione had seen so far, Benjamin was not a fighter. Hopefully that meant his ego would not prevent him from coming to an agreement.
“These are the minor injuries that still need monitoring. Down that hallway are the more serious injuries,” the professor said.
While the professor showed the others around the atrium, Dione found Bel asleep in a chair at the entrance to what they had deemed the trauma ward. She reached out to wake her, but hesitated. Bel started awake on her own, like she could feel someone’s eyes watching her. Dione wanted to tell her to get some rest, but now was not the time.
Bel arched her back and rotated her shoulders in a slow stretch. “Hey, you’re back,” she said. “Zane stayed behind, then?”
“You don’t sound surprised,” Dione said.
“No, he said he wanted to. Asked for help finding some supplies to take.”
Dione crossed her arms. “Thanks for the heads-up,” she said.
Bel rolled her eyes. “Like you could have done anything about it. He wants to help, and he has the skills. If you knew Zane a little better, you wouldn’t be surprised either.”
Dione backed down. The more she had gotten to know Zane, the more she had grown to respect him, both his talents and his desire to help others.
At that moment, the professor led the others over and made introductions. “Bel, this is Moira, an Aratian scientist. She would like to see the Ven body,” the professor said.
“I want to understand what makes them tick, what their weaknesses are, and I am, of course, curious in general about what we have always called demons,” Moira said.
Bel sized her up before responding. “I’ll show you what records we have and then let you examine the body we brought back. It’s in the lower levels. They’re sealed to everyone right now, but I can take you there. Come on.”
“You can also give her the anti-parasitics,” Lithia said. “She’s replicating them. Some Aratians are already infected with the parasite, and I imagine a few Ficarans are, as well. We’ll need more than is left in that vial.” Lithia nodded to Moira, whose shoulders relaxed just a little.
“This way,” Bel said, leading their guest toward the lift.
“I met Moira when I was being held prisoner at the Vale Temple,” Lithia said to the professor. “She seems like a good person, like she genuinely wants to help.”
Benjamin scoffed. The professor nodded at Lithia, but didn’t reply. Dione wished her friend wouldn’t antagonize Benjamin, though she had good reason not to trust him. In another few minutes, they reached the conference room where Victoria stood, rather than sat, behind the table.
As soon as she saw Benjamin, she asked, “Where’s Michael?”
There was no diplomacy in her voice, but also no artifice. She would not try to coax compliance with her words, though Dione didn’t doubt she was still capable of manipulation.
“He took the cavalry to address threats to our supply Hubs, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Benjamin said.
“Of course, I would,” she said. “I led the raids myself. Compliments on the dried polla. Well done to retain so much of the flavor.” Benjamin bristled at this, but didn’t rise to the bait. “But what keeps him away now? As you can see, we’re no longer a threat.”
“I won’t underestimate what your people are capable of. Michael picked up the trail of the demons while he was out. He sent back the machi as runners after the first skirmish. He’s still in pursuit.”
Dione didn’t like the sound of that. The Vens were the hunters, not the prey. Something was not right.
“How many?” Professor Oberon asked.
“Nearly forty on maximute, and another two dozen on machi.”
“I mean, how many Vens?”
“A dozen,” Benjamin said.
“Sounds like a large scouting party,” the professor said.
Even the Vens wouldn’t like those odds, but Dione didn’t believe the Vens were just fleeing. Were they leading the defenders away to make the Aratians more vulnerable? Or were they leading them to something?
Victoria took back control of the conversation. “Let’s have a seat and get to business.” She sat and motioned for Benjamin to do the same. Professor Oberon took the seat opposite Victoria, the one which she had indicated for Benjamin. She looked annoyed, but the professor smiled.
“Elian? There’s no need for you to stay,” Victoria told him.
“I’d like to offer myself as a mediator. My years as department chair have unfortunately provided plenty of relevant experience. Though I have to say, these circumstances present a unique set of challenges.” When Victoria opened her mouth to protest again, the professor held up a hand to cut her off. “Besides, one of my students is currently being held hostage on the condition of this man’s safety. I won’t be going anywhere.”
Victoria nodded her reluctant approval.
“And these children?” Benjamin asked, gesturing to Dione and Lithia, who took the seats on the left, leaving the last one for Benjamin. Victoria had clearly wanted Benjamin directly opposite her, but having him to her side, closer, might make this meeting less confrontational.
“They have each spent time in your settlements. They are here to help me understand you both,” the professor said.
“And how do I know you’re not working with the Ficarans?” Benjamin asked.
“I obviously am. My students helped them evacuate and get set up in this base. But I want to work with you, too. You saw my ship outside. The Calypso. You must have noticed it’s nothing like your Flyers. Whether you want to admit it or not, you know that I’m not from around here.”
“But you can’t expect me to believe you’
re a neutral party,” Benjamin said.
The professor jabbed a finger into the table. “I have one goal, to protect my students. That means stopping the Vens, which is what we’re here to discuss. Let’s get started.”
Victoria spoke first. “I asked them to fly you over the Field Temple on your way here because I wanted you to see that all of this is real.”
“And get me killed in the process? The demons are still out there.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow, and Lithia interjected. “I landed there for a few minutes. Some of the Vens are regenerating. I watched one come back to life with my own eyes.”
Oberon shook his head, and Victoria’s frown deepened. “So the rumors among the rescue teams are true,” she said. “It doesn’t change anything. Our home is gone. The Temple stands, but a third of us are lost. One third. I wanted you to meet me here so that you could see what we’re up against. I do not show you the wounds of my people lightly, and I won’t pretend that this meeting magically erases the hatred I have for you and your brother. Do not mistake this for something that it is not, but do not believe that the Ven threat can go unanswered. I put my anger at the Aratians before anything else, and I failed to protect my people. There are innocents among your ranks that I would not see harmed. Do not make my mistake.”
Victoria meant every word, and Benjamin could tell. He sat there in silence for a moment, finding the words he wanted.
“I believe you. I believe that these demons are a great threat. Michael would agree, I’m sure, if he were here. But the question is, what do we do about it? Our people will not work together easily. But if you loaned us, or traded us, some of your weapons, we might—”
“Ficaran guns do not leave Ficaran hands. They are our only insurance against you.”
“I thought that the demons were a threat to us all. Can’t you help us defend ourselves, and by extension, Ficarans? You have the Flyers now. If there is to be peace between Aratians and Ficarans, there must be a balance of power. The Flyers have tipped that balance, you must agree.”
