Obedience on Fire

by J D Morganne

  “Who you talkin’ to?” Aria said, from behind him.

  Jaxon almost dropped his stick candy when he spun around. Aria stood with blue cotton candy as tall as her hair. Steam spiraled from a plate of fried dough. Its warm sweetness made camp in Jaxon’s nose.

  “My rings,” he said, relieved she wasn’t Beck or Nano. “Still don’t work.”

  “Oh well,” She handed him the plate. “I got you funnel cake. An Old-World delicacy. Beck’s on the ship. She wants’tuh talk to you.”

  Jaxon’s veins ignited. He gaped at his glowing hands. It was happening again, glowing veins all through his hands, his arms, his face. He ran through all the reasons Beck could want to talk to him. After months, was she finally going to tell him about Cayman? He didn’t know what she wanted to tell him but talking to her made him nervous. Could she want to scold him for the tree he’d torched months ago?

  Damn it. The glowing was everywhere! He couldn’t go to her like this. He started to scratch at his skin, knowing this wouldn’t ease anything but that he had to do something.

  Aria took his hands into hers. “Calm down.”

  “Why does this happen? How do I stop it?”

  “It seems like a reaction from high stress levels. You need to relax.”

  “I need koloberry water.”

  “We’re at a fair. Where am I gonna get it? The question is, why does Koloberry pacify it?”

  Jaxon started to pace. He needed to breathe like Nano had taught him. He needed to kick Beck out of his thoughts and occupy his mind with something else. Though he didn’t have an appetite, he took a bite of what Aria had called a funnel cake. He coughed, pushed it back. “That’s a lot of sugar.” One step after another, he started to feel more anchored to the ground. A few more minutes alleviated the slight tightness in his veins, until they stopped glowing.

  “Am I okay?” Jaxon looked himself over and Aria started to rub at powdery sugar on his black sweater.

  “You look”— she paused, eyes narrowed like an epiphany had stricken her, “fine. Nice. Beck’s that way.”

  Jaxon followed where she’d pointed, in the direction of a colossal rocking boat. A small group had formed a circle at the control panel. A mellifluous voice wafted on gentle wind from the center, which made him cock his head in wonder. He checked over his shoulder, but Aria was already gone. It couldn’t be her anyway. He’d heard the ear-bleeding singing that came out of her mouth.

  “No, no, no.” The voice stopped and restarted. “Your kingdom is falling before you, without much surprise.” Her lullaby rolled from her, as if Jaxon could touch it. “I thought you’d be the serpent, but you don’t have your father’s eyes.”

  “Excuse me.” Jaxon pushed his way to the front of the crowd to find Beck singing to three children, sitting crossed-legged on the ground. Before Jaxon heard Beck sing, she had been baggy pants, combat boots and messy hair. Now, he was remembering how she scrubbed her nails clean after working in her gardens and how she loved nail polish and glittery eyeliner.

  “Suun derevnamuii ebefuu. Loving sunrise. Promise to never forget you—ahdi ii goodbye.”

  Her saccharine song found its way to him when her eyes did. She looked like, but couldn’t be Beck. Her straightened hair hung in a ponytail behind her. Instead of her normal baggy cargo pants, a sweater-dress—green, like her eyes—accentuated her waist. Shoes that looked like leaves suctioned to the bottom of her feet, strapped with pieces of bone. But that slow-forming smile belonged one hundred percent to Beck.

  Jaxon swallowed the glob of hot spit pooling under his tongue.

  When she finished entertaining the crowd, she stood up and made her way to Jaxon. “You found me.”

  Jaxon’s tongue was too heavy to pick up. Beck didn’t seem to notice either way. She held her hand out for him to help her into the boat and he did.

  “Shouldn’t this be in the sky?” he asked, shutting the flimsy gate behind them. He sat in the middle row, away from the edges, guarded by the same flimsy material that constructed the gate. He thought Beck would sit across from him, but she took the empty space beside him.

  Close. Extremely close.

  Beck laughed in response to him tensing up. She said nothing, even when the boat started to rock.

  Jaxon tapped his hands on his legs, thumping up the urge to speak, wondering if she would hear him over the cool wind now rushing around them.

  She was the one to break the quiet. “My ma loved the fair.”

  Relief flooded Jaxon. “Yeah?”

  “Zo, too,” Beck said. “I’ve only ever been here a handful of times.”

  Jaxon turned, folding his arms but managing to look into her eyes. “It’s… interesting.” The boat whooshed. Every time gravity pulled the ship close to the ground, Jaxon grabbed at his stomach. Gonna be sick, he thought.

  “But not fun?”

  He shrugged. Why would anyone do this for fun? “It’s noisy, but the food’s good.”

  “I can see that.” She poked the powdered-sugar stain Aria had tried to wipe up. “These playground games aren’t for people like you. You need a challenge.”

  Jaxon couldn’t be sure, but he thought that was blush in her cheeks. “You speak so confidently about what I need.”

  “Well. Am I wrong?”

  The most fun Jaxon had ever had was chasing her through the forest, play-fighting with her. She wasn’t wrong, but Jaxon didn’t want to talk about that. “Who is Zo?”

  Beck shrugged hard. “My half-brother.” She scrunched up her nose, her eyes saying, You should know that. “You’re sleepin’ in his room.”

  “So?” Jaxon knew her mother had died, but he didn’t know anything about Zo. He’d asked Nano before, but Nano had ignored him.

  “Cayman’as him. He likes people he can exploit.”

  Jaxon’s chest ached at the idea of losing the people he cared for, especially his mom. He could only imagine the pain. “I’m sor”—

  “I wanted to talk to you about him.” She turned and her knees bumped his. “He, uh, told me about Obedience.”

  The impending bad news quivered in Jaxon’s legs.

  “Nothing you hadn’t already said. About all the tech you have in you.” She lifted her eyebrows, willing him to respond. When he didn’t, she went on. “So, you do… have a ton of tech in you?”

  “Of course, I do. I’m a soldier.”

  “Wha’does—why? How does that work?”

  Jaxon tilted his head, wondering if she was asking because she was curious or because she wanted to go back and tell Cayman. “It’s like a nasal spray. Doctors shoot nanoscopic celtech… um… bugs up your nose and they plant themselves where they’re programmed to.” It would crawl into her brain like a spider and plant itself in her hippocampus, gaining access to every function of memory.

  “Bugs? You let them violate you like that?”

  Jaxon turned up his nose at the harshness she’d put on the term violate. “It’s standard procedure for newborn males. We’re soldier population.”

  Beck leaned closer, squinting one eye small as she tried to process. “Only men?”

  Jaxon sucked in a deep breath and let it flow from his chest. This conversation was starting to annoy him, like the early morning interrogations Farah used to give. He’d tricked himself into thinking she wanted to get to know him better, but she, like Farah, was only interested in the technical parts of him, the “soldier” parts of him. “Women can’t manipulate,” he said, dryly.

  “Another stupid law?”

  “No. They can’t do it.” In Obedience, Farah was the only female who had the power to manipulate fire. Jaxon didn’t know why and had never had the awareness to care. That’s the way it was and the way it had always been.

  “Why?”

  “Yahid.” Did she think Kamiaka had plucked him from a litter and planted the universe’s secrets in his head? “I don’t know.”

  “It could be because of the standard procedure of shooting babies up with nanites
when they’re born.”

  Jaxon turned away. She was so offensive, he wondered if she even knew. Below, a small boy swung a hammer bigger than him, screaming with the bells and flashing lights of the high striker game. “Celecomb merges with tech in ways we don’t fully understand yet. Treats the brain like a computer.”

  “Our brains are water and fat.”

  “And neurons,” Jaxon added. “Billions of neurons.”

  “Can you remove it?”

  “Why would I wanna do that?” How could Jaxon begin to explain his world to her? He wanted her to know about him—all about his past, his family and where he’d grown up. She hated tech, but it was his life. Jaxon didn’t want her to hate him so he would skip going into detail on the extremities of removing celtechnology from the human body. It was a long, painful process that would turn her against him for good. “Yeah.”

  He shrugged and prayed for Kamiaka to free him from this conversation, but Beck wasn’t ready to end it yet.

  “He also… said somethin’ about you… having fought in wars before.”

  Jaxon raised an eyebrow. She sounded like she was accusing him of something. “Me?”

  “We’re the only two in here.”

  He sat up straight, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “I’m telling you what Cayman told me.”

  “He doesn’t even know me. I would remember a war. Do you remember it?”

  She bit her lip, dazing off in painful reverie. “I do,” she said, finally. “Must’ve been talking about a different Obedient soldier.”

  “There are millions,” Jaxon muttered. Beck said one thing, but she examined him like he was a foreign species, washed up on her shores. Jaxon sat back, crossed his arms and averted his attention to the colorful public below. Their joyous screams and laughter fascinated him. He’d rather be down there with them now. “Was that all?”

  Beck looked off, pretending she was in deep thought. She shook her head. “Yep.”

  “Will this thing stop soon?” So he could come up with a plan to avoid her for several more months.

  “There was… uh… one more thing.” She chipped at the polish on her fingernails. “Aria wanted me to ask… well, I—I uh—turn twenty-four soon.”

  Jaxon turned to her. Did she plan to accuse him of something that couldn’t possibly be true again? Or observe him like a slave she was looking to purchase? He wouldn’t sit through that again.

  “For us, it represents a sort of growth. We do these over-the-top, traditional celebrations. And since I’m Emiir… I'll need an escort.” She waited for him to say something, but Jaxon didn’t understand where she was going with this. When he didn't respond, she went on. “I’m not asking any ol’ stranger. You won't have to do much, besides sit there.”

  “You’re asking me to escort you?”

  “Well… Ria thought”—

  “Aria told you to ask me?”

  Beck paused, and then sat up straight, as if draining the confidence from the world and using it for herself. “I’m asking.”

  At this, Jaxon bit back his urge to smile. He knew she was asking for Aria, but something about how she kept avoiding his eyes suggested that she was anxious. And maybe that was because she reciprocated feelings for Jaxon that neither of them understood yet. “D–do I have to wear something… fancy?”

  “Wear whatever you want. Except jeans! No jeans.”

  “Okay.”

  “You'll do it? I have to eat something called a reaper pepper and dance to complete my next stage of growth. It’s called Ulai. It means ascension, arise, birth, that kind of thing. I’ll have to dance in front of tons of people. I’ll need you there for support.”

  “Like you needed me here?”

  Beck stretched her fingers wide before going to fix her already perfect ponytail. “What?” Her voice was higher than intended. “Pfft. No.” She said it with a sly smile. They stayed quiet after that, both shivering in the chilly air.

  Jaxon was fine with the quiet. When the boat stopped, they sat there for a minute longer. “You wanna get off?”

  “No,” Beck said, but stood up anyway. Jaxon opened the door for her and helped her down.

  “I hope I didn’t anger you,” she said.

  Jaxon locked his hands behind his back. “You always anger me.”

  “Well, then lost cause.” She went to work tugging her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten her wind-whipped ponytail. “I’ll take back that bit of hope, can’t be handing that off to anyone. Oh, before I forget.” She pulled a small, flat box from her bag. On it she’d scribbled Jackson, but had crossed out the c, k and s, and written x over it.

  “Funny.” Jaxon took it.

  “It’s tradition for the woman to present her partner with a gift. A way to say thank you… since it’s a huge commitment.”

  “Am… I… supposed to get you something?”

  “Nah.” She gestured for him to open it.

  He felt strange accepting a gift from her when he had nothing to give in return. He tore the paper with caution, and stared, dumbfounded, at a pair of black gloves. The three crimson lines that went across the left glove matched his tattoo.

  “I wasn’t sure what to get a soldier with a moral compass. I thought about books, but you have enough of those. And they’re not a set because I only wanted one with stripes, but they’re the same black. See? And the fiber’s meta-aramid for flame resistance.”

  Jaxon chuckled. He wondered how something as trivial as gloves could mean so much to him already. “Beck… these’re amazing.” He thought about what it might feel like to hug her, if he’d feel shame for betraying his morals, or relief. Because he wanted to hug her. He wanted to show her that he was thankful for all she’d done for him. “Thank”—

  Before he could finish, Aria whisked him away. When he looked behind him, Beck was already on her way back onto the boat.

  Aria dragged Jaxon from one game to the next. After spending a considerable amount of time at a noisy game that required excessive arm-wiggling, she forced him to play something called basketball. That one was easy. He shot balls into a net and won Aria three stuffed animals and a beaded bracelet.

  They hadn’t crossed Nano’s path for most of the day. Jaxon spotted him chatting with Eshauna and the woman from the fountain.

  “Did Beck gi’you those?” Aria nodded at the giftbox.

  “Can you carry them?” Jaxon was stuffing the box between the pink cushions of Aria’s bears when a siren hummed low. Soon, its piercing wails filled the sky close and miles away. Jaxon looked at the sky, fear etching a volcanic singe up his spine. He tried to pinpoint a trail of black clouds rising from the trees.

  “Com’on,” Nano said, dashing past Jaxon.

  “No, he stays,” Beck said, not stopping to explain herself.

  “What? Why would I do that?” Jaxon chased them all through the panic of onlookers.

  “Because I said.”

  “He gotta come,” Nano urged.

  “Lions don’t see the field well into a year of their training,” she reminded Nano.

  “This is his trainin’,” Nano said, through gritted teeth. “And we ain’t got time for this.” He waved for Aria to hang back before running toward the sirens.

  “Let me come,” Jaxon said, leaning down like he was keeping a secret between the two of them. “I have the training.”

  “No. You don’t have armor.”

  None of them had armor. That tinfoil armor wouldn’t protect him anyway. “I’m coming.”

  Beck sighed and said, “Then, stay outta the way.”

  27

  The weee-ooo of the sirens was five times louder in town.

  Conflagration surged through Tifu, ripped through trees. Thick black smoke corkscrewed from small factories and mills. Lions inspected dead bodies, pigs and debris left from what looked like several explosions. Trees had fallen through buildings. Water showered the blood-puddled cobblestone from broke
n fountains. Smoke smothered the sky.

  Jaxon didn’t need to see Beck’s face. He felt the furious heat wafting off her.

  Torchers and unbison had done this.

  “Where is everyone?” Jaxon whispered.

  Beck and Nano stayed quiet.

  He’d never had war, but he’d always prepared for it. Was this it? He marched behind Nano, searching several minutes for life.

  “Robot.” Beck faced him, all amusement replaced by solemnity. “Go with Nano and check for survivors. By now, Eshauna should have plenty in the tunnels.” She sprinted off before he could call for her to be careful.

  He stepped over a basket of green apples when someone caught his sight. The kid was silent, motionless, the basket at his feet. His pointy hair rested in a puddle of his own blood, one arrow sticking from his head, one from his chest.

  “It’s Naamah,” Jaxon said. It wasn’t fear he felt. It was an infectious rage. His tongue went dry, his face hot. “They killed him?”

  “Looks like it,” Nano said, sullenly. “He was born from earth, and so he returns.” He smoothed his hand over Naamah’s face, closing the kid’s eyes. He yanked both the arrows free, jerking Naamah’s body, and examined each one.

  Jaxon caught the bile in his gut.

  “Definitely Alastan,” Nano said. He turned to find and inform Beck, but she had already run off. He gathered a group of five men to search for unbison still lingering in the area. “Find Beck.” Nano slapped Jaxon’s shoulder. “Remember ya’ trainin’. Be quiet. Unbison”—

  “Blind but hear well.” Jaxon stuck his thumb up. Then he ran in the direction Beck had. For a moment, he thought he’d locked onto her heat, but it was someone similar. Eshauna—her yellow pants stained black from unbison blood. She waved him over from the doorway of a dilapidated shop.

  He followed her through the rubble, into the enclosed yard of an outdoor theater. Jaxon froze in the entrance, his eyes wide with terror and heartache. At least fifty bodies, women and children included, sprawled on winding steps and raised platforms. It was as if something had tossed them from the sky. Blood soaked their tattered clothes and their hands were open wide like they had been begging for mercy.