Penumbra

by Dan Ackerman

  Winslow didn’t hug him back. “You’d do better laying this on Morris if you want sympathy for what you did.”

  Arden’s stomach turned at the thought of being compared to Morris Torre. His arms loosened. “Don’t say that.”

  “It was an ugly thing you did, Arden, something he would do.”

  Arden shook his head. Morris hurt people because he liked it, for his own gain or pleasure. He’d hurt lots of people and Arden had only gotten into a scrap with someone who’d hurt his friend. “It wasn’t like that, Win. It wasn’t. He hurt my friend.”

  Winslow pursed his lips.

  “Don’t say I’m like Morris.”

  His uncle’s face softened a little. “No, I don’t suppose I ever saw Morris look upset at being reprimanded.”

  Arden swallowed.

  Winslow touched his cheek. “Be a good boy, Arden.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Would you like something to eat?”

  Arden wanted to go home, but he said yes anyway because he apparently hated having his uncle upset with him. He hadn’t anticipated it.

  In the morning, before the first meeting of the new Council, he went to lockup to have a look at Bull.

  He had purple bruises around his nose and eyes, and a bandage over the one Arden had poked.

  Gauged, really, if the damage was that bad.

  He jammed the buzzer on the intercom so he could talk to Bull. “Wake up.”

  Without moving from the cot or opening his good eye, Bull answered, “I’m awake. What do you want?”

  “My uncle says I shouldn’t have hurt you. I say you shouldn’t have raped my friend or told people that he wanted it.”

  “He didn’t fight me. You did. You were just jealous I fucked him before you did.”

  “I…” Arden sighed. He wished he had another glass to throw at him; the only thing that stopped him from finding one was thinking of Winslow. “Anyway. Mace isn’t having you charged with anything. So, you can go home.” He tapped in the code to unlock the door. “How’s your eye?”

  Bull bared his teeth and walked away.

  “Bull.”

  The man stopped and turned around.

  “You did put hands on your Autarch. We’ve decided on our own justice.”

  “You’re such a petty little bitch.”

  “You’re going to volunteer at a med center. I messaged you the details.”

  Bull took a step towards Arden.

  Arden flinched.

  The other man laughed at him but didn’t touch him. “Exactly.”

  Arden made his way to the Public Chamber, where Rhys looked visibly relieved at the sight of him.

  “We didn’t know where you were.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Are you ready?”

  Rhys nodded.

  Arden entered the Public Chamber and engaged in the obligatory formalities involved in changing over a Council: a short speech thanking the former members, accompanied by a small commemorative gift for their service, and another speech welcoming the new members. Everyone shook hands and when the former members left, Arden messaged the conspectus to the new Council and went over a few rules and regulations related to being on the Council.

  Shayla Mbye watched Rhys for most of the time Arden spoke.

  When he asked, “Any questions?” with the hope that everyone would have the sense to say no, Shayla raised her hand.

  “I have a question.”

  “Of course.”

  “Eden’s statutes prohibit any other than the Council or the Autarch from entering the Public Chamber. Why has that been ignored?”

  Arden glanced at Rhys. “Because the last subsection of the statutes says that the Autarch, as the owner of the station, can, without Council or prior declaration, change any aforementioned statute at any time for any reason.”

  Shayla folded her hands on the table. “Begging your pardon, Your Eminence, that’s how you’ve ignored the rules. Not why.”

  “Oh.” He looked at Rhys again and could tell Rhys wished he’d stop looking at him. “Uh.” Pulled between a flippant answer and a meaningful one, he finally said, “Rhys has given us good counsel for some years now. It’s easiest for him to do so if he’s well informed.”

  Shayla didn’t exactly look satisfied. “Thank you, Your Eminence.”

  “Any other questions?”

  No one had any.

  “We’ll adjourn for the day. Reconvene the same time tomorrow. You’ll have time to review the conspectus and we can figure out supervisory areas from there.”

  Arden stood first and meant to invite Cole to lunch but didn’t have the chance. Shayla, Istis Frakes, and Xio Benevides approached him as Cole headed out with the rest of the Council.

  “How can I help you?” Arden asked.

  “We thought you might like to join us for lunch,” Xio offered.

  Arden eyed the three women and thought this Council might end up giving him a harder time than he thought. All three of them outclassed Arden by a mile when it came to intellect and ambition. “Of course,” he agreed because he saw no other course. He made himself look at them and not at Rhys. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

  The trio exited the room.

  Arden allowed himself to turn around. “I, uh. That didn’t go so bad?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to come to lunch?”

  “I don’t think I was invited.”

  “Mmm. Well. I’ll see you?”

  “Arden…uh. About what you said.”

  Arden eagerly waited for Rhys to accept the position of Chamberlain. He smiled. “Yeah?”

  “About Giving Day,” he added, shoulders hunched and eyes on Arden’s feet.

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t have anything that I could give you. And, uh, knowing that, if you want to give me something, the only thing I can think to ask for is to clear someone else’s debt.”

  Arden sat on the table. He hadn’t expected that. And it wouldn’t do, not at all. The request entirely missed the point of Giving Day. Maybe it was different for workers. They had less to give and more people to give to. “Someone specific?”

  “I…I have friends, you know. And family.”

  “Okay. I’ll think about it. It’s not for a few months.”

  Rhys nodded.

  Arden didn’t need to think about it, he’d already decided exactly what he wanted to do. He hopped off the table, put a hand on Rhys’s shoulder, and said, “You could come to lunch anyway.”

  “That’s alright. I don’t want to ruffle any feathers.”

  “See you later?”

  “I’ll stop by.”

  Arden patted his shoulder, then went out to catch up with Shayla and the other two. They led him to a restaurant he didn’t care for, but he kept that to himself. He tried his hardest to find something he wanted on the menu but ended up ordering a hodgepodge of items from different dishes.

  He chased his peas around his plate, spearing them one at a time. He said, “Uh, I was really glad to see you got a nomination, Shayla.”

  “Oh, Your Eminence, just Shay, please.”

  “Oh. Shay. Well. I think you’ll be a wonderful member of our Council.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Your Eminence. I’m excited, too.”

  Xio chimed in, “You inspired a lot of us with that speech of yours. A new era.”

  “Hopefully,” he said.

  Istis laughed, a pretty charming little sound that made him smile too.

  As they lunched, Arden started to think he’d been wrong to worry about them. How could having three bright, capable young women on the Council hurt? From what he could tell, they supported his vision for Eden, and he would need that support. The peers had elected several centrists to the Council and though none of them seemed unreasonable, they would need convincing. It would be good to have help.

  After about four Council meetings, a thirteenth chair appeared. Arden didn’t know who’d put it there. No one took cre
dit, or blame, for it, but no one protested when Arden told Rhys, “Well, no use in you standing all the time.”

  Rhys stayed quiet during meetings and didn’t pull his chair up to the table, but he sat readily enough.

  He gave his advice less surreptitiously than he ever had before, although almost never in front of anyone but Cole. He had a soft spot for Cole. Maybe because Cole had won the thrall vote or maybe just because Rhys liked him, but he talked more easily in front of Cole.

  He brought Arden the bottle of rakka he’d agreed to trade and went home with a bottle of expensive cherry wine Arden had received on his twentieth birthday. He stayed over some nights and sometimes even showed up without Arden asking him over.

  Those nights always warmed Arden from head to toe. Such a small thing meant so much.

  Giving Day inched closer and Arden liked to think about all the nice things he could give Rhys. Sometimes while Rhys slept Arden would look at him, idly planning gifts for years to come.

  He wondered if thralls celebrated their birthdays. He’d have to find out, and look up Rhys’s, and get him something nice for his birthday. Rhys had asked for cleared debts, and he would get them, even if he lived to be two hundred, Arden wouldn’t run out of thralls to liberate in Rhys’s name. But he wanted to give him things.

  He kissed Rhys’s shoulder and the other man stirred in his sleep. He rolled over. “Hmm?”

  “Nothing.”

  Rhys nestled back into the pillow.

  Arden stretched and cuddled up next to him. Normally, on a sleepless night like this, he’d have called for a shot, but he liked the quiet peace that existed in these late hours.

  “Are you watching me sleep?” Rhys asked after a few minutes.

  “No.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I am listening to you breathe, though.”

  Rhys rolled over and pulled Arden into his arms. “Go to sleep. We have to be up in the morning.”

  Arden pulled in a slow, deep breath. He pretended to sleep and drifted off eventually.

  In the morning, Rhys accompanied him to visit a few of the engineering offices. They visited the different work crews so often that they’d started to feel like social calls instead of productivity and safety check-ins.

  All the Council members visited different areas on the station so that at least once a week every supervisor had received a visit.

  The thralls had become much less squirrely during these visits. A handful of times, a worker had even spoken directly to Arden without staring at the floor.

  As much as Arden came to like the visits on a social level, they did make him worry. Everyone had the same problem: not enough bodies.

  Productivity did go up, overall, as safety regulations and morale issues came to light and were resolved. It wasn’t enough, though.

  Not yet, Arden reminded himself. It had been a few months since the election. They needed time.

  As they walked toward Engineering Two, Rhys said, “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “The position you offered me.”

  Arden glanced over. They hadn’t spoken about that in a while and Rhys’s answers had grown evasive, so he’d stopped bringing it up. “And?”

  “You didn’t offer it to me because we’re involved.”

  “No.”

  “Arden, promise.”

  “I mean, I might not have thought of it if we weren’t, but I don’t just want your advice because I find you both fun and enjoyable.”

  “That’s not a promise.”

  “Promises always come with fine print on Eden, though, don’t they? You really want me to promise this job isn’t a quid pro quo?”

  “Yes,” Rhys answered.

  Arden shrugged and said, “Fine. I promise. The offer stands, regardless of our involvement. Are you accepting?”

  “I think I have to.”

  Arden made a face. “I super hate when you say things like that.”

  “No, it’s not…It’s not like that. Not like you’re making me. I just have to do it for a lot of reasons.”

  “Okay. Well. Congratulations, Mr. Malek.” He offered his hand for Rhys to shake. “Welcome to the company.”

  Rhys shook it with a funny kind of smile on his face.

  “I’ll send over a contract and everything tomorrow at some point. I think I need to make some changes to the old one.” Arden kept a hold of his hand, though he shifted the way he held it, and continued walking towards Engineering Two.

  “Aren’t we going to negotiate terms?”

  Arden chuckled. “If that’s what you want to do.”

  “I do.”

  “It will be very boring.”

  “I’ll survive.”

  “Maybe you could trust me for once,” Arden suggested.

  Rhys made a sweeping gesture with both hands to indicate the entirety of the space station around them.

  “Alright, but that was like a super long time ago.”

  Rhys raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

  “And I’m not…I’m not like Bex, you know. She actively swindled people.”

  “And you just, what, inherited them?”

  “Well. Yes, but it’s…” Arden huffed. He crossed his arms.

  “Tell me again how many people you own.”

  “Technically, I don’t own people. Just things.”

  “Is there a difference to you?”

  Arden opened his mouth to protest, to explain the difference between indenture and slavery, but he couldn’t. Rhys had been teasing, but the question stung. He closed his mouth.

  Rhys reminded, “You never got picky about the details before. Whether you own our bodies or everything that surrounds them, your family positioned themselves as gods.”

  “Shouldn’t you be a little nicer to me then?” Arden sulked.

  “Why don’t you threaten to jettison me into space?”

  This had started to feel like a fight even though Rhys spoke in a pleasant, almost jovial tone. “No one’s ever actually done that.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  Rhys shrugged.

  “Be nice to me,” Arden wanted to demand. He could demand it and if he did, he’d get it. Rhys would have to be nice to him.

  Somehow, that didn’t make him feel better.

  He stayed quiet.

  He inspected a few things in Engineering Two, tried not to glower at anyone, and left without saying anything while Rhys chatted with the work crew.

  He deliberately went to find Cathie, who had been sort of a wreck since she’d ended things with Bull. She’d really liked him and couldn’t reconcile the man she’d loved and the one who’d hurt her friend.

  Arden felt bad about letting her get in so deep with Bull.

  Once he’d made the mistake of reminding her that he had told her several times that Bull was awful. She’d laid into him, making it clear that his warning had not been serious or sufficient.

  He’d mostly offered platitudes since then.

  Today he found her in better spirits as she bustled around her room, tidying up. She had a large pile of things on her couch, shoes and clothes, trinkets, jewelry, a few books, and a shimmery silver faux-fur coat.

  He ran his fingers over the coat, marveling at the silkiness and shine.

  “Oh, just let yourself in, Ardi,” she scolded when she saw him.

  “I rang. You didn’t answer.”

  She turned down the music. “Sorry. I’m just trying to clean up a few things.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I’m getting rid of everything that doesn’t make me happy.”

  He lifted the coat out of the pile. “This doesn’t make you happy?”

  “Oh, I hate that thing. My brother got it for me. He has awful taste.”

  Arden slung the jacket around his shoulders like a cape. “I don’t know, I think it’s great.”

  “Then take it.”

  He shimme
d his shoulders.

  She shook her head. “It’s hideous on you too, Your Eminence.”

  “I’m still taking it. Tell Mathis I said thank you.”

  “Only if you want him sniffing around you asking for favors.”

  Arden put his arms through the sleeves. “I don’t think Mathis has even spoken to me since school.”

  “Well, you did call him a disgusting worm in front of our parents.”

  “Fuck. Well. Then I guess really say thank you.”

  “Alright,” she said in a tone that made him think she wouldn’t. “You know, if this is another one of your pity visits, you don’t have to stay.”

  “Uh.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “I figured it was pity instead of you trying to get laid like every other guy who’s started talking to me again.”

  “Oh. Well. Neither? Is that an option?”

  “You know I was teasing.”

  He nodded. He sat on the couch next to her pile of discards. “How are your parents?”

  “Fine.”

  “And your sister?”

  “Lane is good!” she answered and launched into a thirty-minute update on her little sister’s life.

  He helped her pack all her unwanted items into boxes and bags, even when she insisted that she would just call for a thrall.

  When he started shoving items into bags, she said, “You know, you’ve gone a little soft on them.”

  Arden shrugged.

  “It’s not a good look, Ardi, letting Rhys talk you into all these changes,” she advised. “People are starting to talk.”

  He paused, then stuffed a few more things into a bag. He hated that. Did he really seem so easily led? Had he acted so awfully towards people that he was considered incapable of concern for others?

  Was he even concerned for others, or did he just dislike feeling guilty over treating people badly now that he thought of them as people?

  Did it make a difference? Did it matter if he cracked down on safety in the workplace because it boosted productivity or because he cared if people got hurt? The result was the same, wasn’t it?

  “I. I’ll see you later. Lunch tomorrow, right?”

  “Of course.”

  He left.

  He found Rhys waiting outside his door. He held out his tablet. “You left this in E-Two.”

  “You could have put it inside.”