by R. Cooper
“So stay with one of them.” Markita finished off a protein drink “Or we let you go when we land. Or, you know, we let Lin kill you.”
Everyone glanced to Trenne, who did not react.
“She was there when they killed Nadir,” Lin said plainly. “She did nothing. She has no honor.”
Mos turned to Lin, ears shockingly flat, before turning to Taji. “Soldiers and foreigners. She is a miner. They do not understand.”
Taji gaped at her. “If you—if anyone—on this planet had bothered to look beyond your damn rings and ask some questions, all of this could have been avoided. They don’t understand? You don’t understand. You think I’d work for IPTC if there were better options for a crippled son of a farmer? You think the others didn’t join for the chance to get away from something, only to wind up stuck in the shit because of the Sha? Lin and Trenne were trapped in your class system. Think of what Imperial Guards they would have made to a decent emperor. But they couldn’t, right? So what else were they supposed to do?”
Mos flinched, but then, strangely, her ears came forward. “The I.P.T.C. will do business with anyone in charge?”
Taji had no clue how she’d gotten that from his words, but she wasn’t wrong. “Yes, but they have limits. They did intervene to stop a war once…but the war was bad for business.”
“The Imperial Guard are trained,” Trenne stepped in. “I doubt Inri Mos could have saved him if Nadir could not save himself. He was not an easy opponent.” The flier went quiet for several moments. Then Trenne looked at Taji again. “And she brought us Taji.”
“That is a debt, if you are from a culture that believes in them,” Tsomyal remarked, while Taji’s skin prickled with the heat of his blush. “However, it might help us more to hand her over to Larin.” Taji made an effort to look at Tsomyal and not stare at Trenne. “Let us all imagine that Larin knows there was no organized coup attempt and simply wants to eliminate anyone he views as a threat. Is it in our interest to appease him? He will most certainly imprison you, Mos, perhaps question and kill you. Would this act have consequences?”
Mos took a small breath, controlled herself. “If it was just…no.”
“But it isn’t.” Taji interpreted the tactful Shavian silence. “So the Inri would stand against him. If he hasn’t rounded up all the Koel in the capital and in the country, the Koel will likely do the same. That is, if he has arrested Eriat unjustly. And I don’t know about the rest of the Olea, but he probably has his sister under watch on some excuse or another.”
“A pickle,” Markita declared, surprising everyone and confusing several of them, Taji included. Taji reminded himself to ask what that meant later.
“B’lyad,” Nev swore.
“We are in varying levels of danger no matter which corner we turn,” Tsomyal summed up with no surprise in their tone. “Sergeant Major?”
Trenne’s expression gave away nothing as he considered—or pretended to consider something he had probably considered already. “I assume our house is monitored. We assumed it was before and it is more possible now. I also prefer to avoid the attention of the Guard for the time it might take Larin to calm himself, if he cannot find sense. The Guard are many, we are six. Five, if I do not count Ledo.” He wasn’t going to risk their only pilot unless he had to. “With two to protect.”
“The I.P.T.C. is large,” Mos objected.
“And very fucking far away,” Taji answered, only to go still when Trenne’s attention came back to him.
“The I.P.T.C. will not get here in time to save our lives, but would certainly decide this was one lost ambassador too many and step in to put someone more biddable in power.” Tsomyal could have been requesting a cup of tea. “It’s a shame Larin won’t see reason on the subject. IPTC would hardly stand in the way of what is essentially a bloody family squabble.”
“Really, the spanner in the works…” Taji paused to wonder how to translate that phrase, then gave up. “The trouble with Larin’s plan was that none of the nobles actually tried to kill him during the hunt.”
“The trouble with his plan was you,” Trenne corrected, tone and posture uncompromising.
A squeak escaped Taji. “I should have shut up! I know!”
“One damaged human who is not a servant but not a noble and has the respect of the I.P.T.C. One human who is also shehzha.” Mos gave Taji a vaguely scolding glance.
“Damaged?” Taji echoed, then blinked. “Respect?”
“Your presence was a test of his honor,” Trenne continued. “Larin meant to provoke the Koel and any others who might feel the same. He was not expecting a shehzha. An offworlder shehzha, but one even the Koel would defend. He wanted a reason to make them angry, but he should not have chosen this one. It made him appear weak.”
“It made them all appear weak when they did not defend you,” Mos added. “And you,” she said to Trenne. “He could hardly be Emperor of the Sha with a hurat in front of him who honored his shehzha so greatly. You were a reminder to everyone of what Sha should mean. Like the Inri.”
“I am not like you,” Trenne replied, then turned away from her.
He didn’t even flick an ear in irritation. Taji’s lips parted in a half-smile and he let out a tiny, hungry breath.
“Fucking politics.” Markita’s voice stopped Taji before Taji could leap out of his seat. Taji stared down at his hands, the forgotten data device about to fall out of his lap, and slowly made himself sit back.
“We have no reason yet to assume our town flier isn’t where we left it,” someone said. Their voice slipped up and down in volume before steadying.
Taji rubbed his warm face and caught Trenne watching him. He frowned, but Trenne only looked away when Ledo called out again.
“Do I land?” Ledo asked in a shout. “These people usually love to remind you of their authority and tell you all about how their ancestors built fliers too. But it’s silent.”
“Where else would we go?” Rodian called back.
“This flier is capable of reaching the other side of the country, or another continent,” Tsomyal mused. “It would put us out of Larin’s reach, but only for a time. The empire may be no more, but it remains the strongest force on this planet. If he truly wanted us, I have no doubt we would be handed over. But…I am not certain he will reach for us at all. The events at Laviias were intended to frighten us and to show his strength. He has accomplished that as much as he can. And if he wishes to kill us—or allow one of his sycophants to do it to please him—then he will. I see no point in running.”
Rodian snorted, then anxiously ran his fingers over the back of his seat.
“A fair point, Private,” Tsomyal told him, apparently recognizing that Rodian and the others were not elderly beings nearing the end of their lives anyway, and also had the job of protecting Tsomyal no matter what came at them.
“You think he’ll keep us alive because he needs an audience?” Nev had an unhappy scowl on her face.
“Some of us.” Tsomyal, picking this moment to be honest, looked at Taji.
A shiver went down Taji’s back. He could feel sweat in his armpits.
“If we wanted to escape to the moon to wait for IPTC or another offworld ship, we would have to come back to the capital. The Sha no longer have the set up for ships capable of space flight except for here, and even then, the ships they use are from IPTC or older models. We would not find anything to get off planet anywhere else.”
Having pronounced their fate, Tsomyal closed their eyes for a long, long moment.
Nev cleared her throat. “They don’t have human meds on this planet, not in large doses. I would prefer my supplies. If we are stuck here anyway.”
“Hey,” Ledo yelled again. “Someone is giving me a speech welcoming me to the capital now!”
“Nothing like being given permission to land when you kind of already had it,” Taji muttered. “Not suspicious at all.”
“It’s a trap or it’s genuine. The situation has not chang
ed,” Lin practically grunted. But then she looked to Trenne, the most important voice, although Tsomyal was probably not wrong.
“Some of us are in no condition for long, difficult travel.” Trenne meant Tsomyal and he might have meant Taji. Taji set his jaw in annoyance, even if it was true. Taji had slowed them down in Laviias and he would only do it again.
“So we stay—if they allow it.” Lin cracked her neck, took a breath, then said, “We land,” in Ledo’s direction. “We will take everything the small flier will carry in one load,” she went on, low and urgent, to Trenne, who tilted his head toward her.
Taji stared at the brilliance of his markings and the warmth of his skin and pulled Trenne’s coat tighter around him. He itched along his ribs and down his back, telling him he needed time to properly clean himself. The last few times he had tried, Trenne had been with him. Trenne was too distracting. How was Taji supposed to get clean and think clearly with Trenne quietly informing the Sha that they did not impress him and then endangering the team he cared for because Taji had a malfunctioning prosthesis?
Trenne should have more bruises, several of them along his throat and his thighs. Not that he would let Taji do that. They didn’t need to pretend now. Trenne had wanted a shehzha but maybe he would change his mind because Taji was too much trouble.
Taji’s stomach swooped and then roiled, probably from the flier’s slow descent. The others were moving around despite the flier still being in motion, going through the bags and cases that had been left here while they had stayed in Laviias. Taji would fall over if he tried to help, which made him frown harder.
Mos, who must have been told to keep out of the way, had sat down. She stayed in that seat once they were on the ground, and while the cargo door opened, and the ramp was extended, and Lin and Rodian stepped out to reconnoiter the area.
Tsomyal was bundled up in Markita’s coat. Markita was also evidently going to carry the ambassador to the smaller flier.
“I can walk,” Taji announced, almost too loud, as though his ears were blocked. He shook his head. “I mean it. And what about Mos?”
“What about her?” Lin asked from somewhere outside. Rodian came up the ramp in front of her. Lin paused to exchange a look and probably some ear signals with Trenne. “We can let her go,” Lin finished after that significant silence. “The Inri can find her own way. The Imperial Guard is not out there unless they are hiding.”
“You know, if Nadir were here, he would ask why Mouth is so quiet,” Nev said suddenly.
Taji looked up, though his gaze immediately fell back to the floor. “Larin is smart. If he is rational, he will wonder if it is wise to offend the Inri as well as IPTC at this time. If that were true, giving a ride to this single Inri would help us. If he thinks us guilty and plans to strike, helping this single Inri will not matter.”
“Okay. Fuck.” Markita turned on Nev. “You had to say something.”
Lin gave Taji the full force of a blank yet displeased stare, then twisted around sharply. She pulled Mos’s knife from her belt and flipped it to hand it over, hilt-first.
Then, to Taji’s fascination, she stood in front of Mos while Mos turned to conceal the knife somewhere on her person. Lin’s ears were down. Mos’s ears were up. Trenne’s expression told him nothing.
Taji, who would be no good lifting or carrying, returned to his data device and the feeds.
“Just a casual reminder to obey the Civil Guard,” he complained to himself. “There’s no need to tell people to do something if they already do it. So, people are disobeying the Civil Guard, which, I thought, led to bad things. Because the Civil Guard shouldn’t even be needed. I mean, they are, what? For when people dare to get out of control? Which can’t be that uncommon or they would not exist. But defiance of the state and getting a little wild are different things—or not, with the Sha? Hmm. Whatever normal was before, things have not been normal since IPTC landed here. So are the people losing control more or are the Civil Guard acting harsher?”
“There’s something oddly comforting about his babbling, even when it’s terrifying,” Ledo remarked as he passed by.
Taji was surprised enough to raise his head. Ledo, covered head to toe in inky blue tats, with all of a pilot’s confidence, was baffling to Shavians, and mostly kept to himself or stayed among the other soldiers. He’d never seemed to even notice Taji puttering around the house.
“Check everything for food,” Trenne gave an unsettling reminder. “We cannot trust anything we left at the house.”
For a second, Taji had almost forgotten the constant terror that was his life.
Trenne’s gaze met his, then he crossed the aisle to hand Taji a crushed nutrient bar. “You are well?”
Taji was fine, all things considered. He had taken care of himself for a long time now, and didn’t need babying. He stared at the bar and only took it when Trenne didn’t lower his arm. Trenne seemed to get exponentially more still. “Taji?”
“Fine.” Taji tore into the bar and broke off a corner. It was dry. He had to chew forever. “Did you eat?” he grunted with a spill of crumbs, and waved what was left of the bar at Trenne.
Trenne slowly reached for it. Taji watched Trenne place a small piece on his tongue before he quickly glanced away. It must have been dry to Trenne, too. Taji heard him swallow a few times and then looked back.
Trenne broke off another piece and held it out. Taji leaned forward and Trenne only paused for a moment before pushing it past Taji’s parted lips.
Taji needed to get a hold of himself. This was like he’d never been laid before. He could only imagine what he would be like when the changes began.
“Are you in great pain?” Trenne asked once several beats had passed. He seemed hesitant. But he offered the nutrient bar again so Taji grabbed it and shoved the last of it into his mouth to crunch loudly and resentfully. “I worry. Your leg should have been repaired a long time ago.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not in my budget,” Taji muttered. Neither was a truly nice model that wouldn’t need constant maintenance.
“Being the spouse of an IPTC soldier has some benefits. Might be worth considering.” There wasn’t the slightest trace of amusement in Nev’s voice despite how thoroughly she was embarrassing Taji.
Taji shot her a look and saw Rodian behind her, eyes wide as they went from Taji to Trenne. Then Rodian focused hard on the bag he was checking.
Taji clenched his teeth.
Trenne, of course, showed no sign of strain or even discomfort. “Nev, he will need something to help him.”
Nev nodded with a frown. “Usual question, Mouth—how bad is it today?”
Taji huddled deeper into Trenne’s coat and flipped through the messages he’d already read on his DD. Nev sighed.
“He should not be in pain,” Mos cut in, disapproving.
“When Taji is ready, he will ask,” Trenne answered her mildly.
“When Taji is ready, he will beckon,” Lin corrected as she swept back in. “He is true shehzha.”
Taji tensed, eyes on Trenne’s body even if he didn’t dare look up.
“He clearly has need,” Mos insisted.
“He will ask.” Trenne was soft. “I hold his honor because he has handed it to me. He can take it back at any time.”
Mos would not let it go. “But the longing.”
“There is no honor without respect. Not for anyone.” Trenne was abruptly less soft. “Your emperor has proved that. The Sha have noticed.”
Taji, about to remind them all that he was in the room with them, exhaled, “Oh shit,” instead. “The whole system is a top-down, lead-by-example oligarchy, with a ruler who is purely symbolic up until they are actually needed to do something. And if they don’t do the thing correctly, the other nobles are supposed to step in to stop them. And how do they know what to do? Follow tradition. But the tradition boils down to honoring the people. A balance between what is best for them and what they want—which isn’t always the same thing. That
is a great leader to the Sha.” He looked at Mos. “To you, that’s Rinnah?”
Mos was motionless. “Olea Rinnah is the strongest candidate to have the support of the other families.”
“If you think that, Larin thinks it, too,” Tsomyal said evenly.
“Do we think she is even alive at this point?” Taji demanded and was answered with the silence, and then a sigh from Tsomyal.
“Mr. Ameyo, Larin’s motivations no longer matter. He has arranged all this chaos in an attempt to strengthen his position. Instead, he has created unlikely allies against him.”
Rodian seemed a little ill. “Are we against him now?”
