Some dared tell women to smile, but Cole preferred an authentic countenance of pleasure that he put there himself. No woman should have to fake anything for his sake.
"Hesper,” he whispered, “are you able to hurt anything?”
She smiled, confused, shaking her head. "I suppose so.”
Fingers tangled in her hair, he closed his eyes and said, "Set the broken bone. Kiss me like you have to hurt me to heal me, like the aurora borealis and its sweet heart-breaking. Show me your spirit, woman.”
Mere poetry. Stupid talk.
But in a moment, she proved that an idea can be both stupid and inspired.
She’d be okay. Somehow, she’d be okay.
* * *
He wanted her to hurt him to heal him? He was more frightened for her than for himself.
His face, the energy in his stance, the hopeful anticipation in the firm tangle of his fingers in her hair, all expressed sincerity and longing. He ached for something contrary to her nature.
What was her nature?
She was more than her nature, was she not? Life required more of her.
* * *
David made his way through the low-lit, dank hall of the jail. The officer on guard stood in reverence as David entered.
"At ease, Officer Atwood.”
The jail’s sole occupant sat on the cold, stone floor, knees up and arms resting on them. Eyebrows furrowed with rows of troubled thoughts, he paid no attention to David.
When one of David’s teachers explained that he had a "naturally hypnotic presence,” he built on it with training and expected to counsel and help others, not realizing that it would take him into the jail regularly. Still, he rather enjoyed watching stormy seas calm under a soothing touch or the power of gentle words, and to hear the truth sing out rapid legato without the violent techniques they learned in school. He rarely required any other tactic from his skill set.
However, he didn’t visit the jail to calm or draw from a prisoner tonight. He needed to soothe himself and quell his conscience with kindness.
"May I get you something to eat?” he asked.
Jesurun turned his face toward him, absentminded, as though following the flight of a passing fly. He pursed his lips together and lowered his eyebrows. "They’re here, aren’t they?”
"Who?”
"People like me—whatever I am. I feel them.”
Jesurun stared at the wall, though David wished he’d look at him.
"You know about them, don’t you?”
Cole had explained Jesurun’s situation on the trip back to the base, but David never mentioned the charred bones to Cole or Jesurun.
"Not sure what you mean.”
"When I walked in, I felt like I walked into myself. I dunno what I mean, but I knew more of us existed, and they were here somehow.”
David came close to the cold bars and whispered, "Are you really what they say you are?” He wanted to ask where he was from, who his mother was . . . But why? It wasn’t worth it.
It wasn’t!
Jesurun took a deep breath and nodded with a resigned air. "I’m somethin’. I dunno about all this Book stuff. Not really.”
"How can you prove it?”
After a few moments, Jes strode over, took off his glove, and reached for David’s forehead.
David jerked away.
"It’s okay. I’m proving it.”
Eyeing Jes, David allowed a touch. A normal, human touch pressed against his forehead, but soon it burned with a scorching heat that quickly cooled. Watching with his good eye, the coolness flowed under the surface of Jesurun’s skin like a current of ocean water. He touched David’s eye, his lip, and lastly, knelt to touch his toes through his boots.
David swiped his fingers over smooth skin where the gash had been. Split, dry lips transformed into a mouth that was kissier and softer than a grown man’s ought to be. The eyelid that had been swollen, opened, and the hot pain in his injured feet faded.
With a sharp puff of breath, he stared at Jesurun, then at Jesurun’s hands. A miracle?
Jesurun met David’s stare and cracked him open and flipped through his soul like pages in a novel. Strange feelings sprang up in his chest. Flappy-flyers. Oh, my God. It was like being with Hesper.
David didn’t swing that way, so what was the matter with him?
He had to get Anise out of that room. A man had needs, after all, and now might be the time since he had the lips of a baby. She’d be impressed.
"What can I do to help Hesper, Reverenced One?” Jesurun asked.
David tipped his head. "Why? You like her?”
"I promised I’d do what I can to help her have the baby. I don’t have a thing for her, it’s just that I messed up. I shouldn’t have let Cole turn us in. I should’ve run with her.”
I know the feeling, kid. "Don’t let that eat you, Jesurun. You couldn’t do anything about this. Cole made a prudent decision, considering the circumstance. Trust me on that. I’m the one who forced him into it.”
Jesurun leaned his forehead against the bars. "Yeah. I’ll try. Haven’t trusted a military guy before.” He snorted a laugh. "One of the last things my mom told me was that I shouldn’t trust anybody with golden buttons and black boots, ‘cept for my dad. Never found my dad to trust him. I guess you’ll do since I’ll probably be dead soon, right? Check ‘trusting a military man’ off my list of life goals.”
"I wish I deserved it, Jesurun.” David bounced on the balls of his feet. This sucked. "Well, if you need anything, let me know.”
David strode through the hall to the guard’s desk. "Officer Atwood, this man isn’t going to have a trial.” With a glance in Jesurun’s direction, he scowled and pulled a wallet from his pocket. The meras whispered against each other as he counted out a thousand. Going over the Glorious Ones’ heads required significant remuneration. This was just the start. "I’ll get the papers you need from Vincent.”
Officer Atwood shook his head. “No, sir. Not worth my life.”
“Ten thousand are coming your way if we survive it.”
Officer Atwood took the money.
Thirty-Eight | Post-Conquest: 232
Winter’s first snow fell in the night, and the house carried its special tranquil silence. Hesper and Cole picked at bowls of hot buckwheat in the dining room as they suffocated in a somber fog. David scuffled in, dressed in his most flamboyant harem pants and garish orange and silver bathrobe from the East. The robe hung open, exposing David’s chest. Cole had forgotten about that café au lait mark. David needed to know about that.
David’s eyes flitted between Cole and Hesper. He took a long breath, staring at the floor, then he looked to Cole, grim.
"How is Jesurun being treated?” Cole asked.
"He was treated well.”
"Was?” Cole straightened up.
David waved his hands in front of him. "Is, is! I talked to him last night.” He smiled. “Just a slip of the tongue. I didn’t sleep well.”
Cole considered David’s forehead. "Your face is better. What happened?” Those things don’t go away overnight. Jesurun had done something for him. No question.
"I’ll see you later,” David said. "I have business to attend to.”
"Dave, this might seem stupid to mention, but Jes has the same café au lait mark on his chest.”
David froze. He turned his head a little, his mouth opened, but he said nothing and walked on.
He’d make his own decisions. Cole wouldn’t bring it up again. In a few hours, he wouldn’t be able to.
* * *
Little Thomas stayed home with the flu. At least, that is what David claimed. Family was required to attend trials, but sickness served as a valid excuse. No one wanted a child to witness an execution.
Dark smoke billowed into a winter-gray sky like color from a bag of herbs in hot water. Fresh snow squeaked and crunched beneath the slow-moving weight of the vehicle. Hesper’s feelings seeped from her without passion or even a name. Like t
hat smoke.
In the Bastion, law enforcement wardens escorted them into the Judgment Room. This time, the procession of the Kyrios included David. He would have to make the accusation, agree with their verdict, and stand against his kin. It did not look right. How could he be the person who made Hesper feel fireflies inside? Who had become her friend and would have become her husband under different circumstances? How could anyone separate themselves from their loyalties for the sake of religion or work? It did not bother her so much yesterday, but today? She could not grasp it.
Cole took her hand and squeezed. With a resolute jaw and dry eyes, his mind stood tall in another place. That was his way in troubling times. It protected him while hurting everyone else. It is how he became the educated man he was, how he got things done and survived in this harsh culture. She would let him be there if it gave him courage.
Cole rubbed at his sternum.
"What’s wrong?” Hesper whispered.
He sucked at the air and gave her a quick glance. "Heartburn.”
Where was Jesurun? A sick, dark feeling twisted her thoughts. She reached behind her and touched the tip of her braid, wrapping it around her finger.
Vincent noticed the same thing, apparently, because he scanned the room, frowned, and whispered to Ariana, who shook her head.
"We’re missing someone?” he asked, aloud. "Send the officers from the jail, please.”
The officers arrived without Jesurun. Vincent thrust his head forward. "Our prisoner. Where is he? Officer Atwood?”
"We took care of him, sir. We received orders for a quick execution.”
They killed him? Vincent had him killed without a trial.
Snake!
Vincent glared at the officer, blinking rapidly. Disgusted, he slowly closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. "You did what?” His eyes snapped open. "Who told you to do this?”
"An official letter signed by you, Glorious One.” The officer eyed David, but Vincent did not seem to notice.
Such a silence fell. The only noise came muted through the doors from the foyer of the Bastion as Vincent’s gaze swept over the Kyrios, none of whom dared to look at him.
The moments he spent composing himself gave Hesper pause. Maybe he was truly surprised. Cole had said Vincent never wrote his own letters. It would not be hard to fake an inconsistent signature. If that was true, he had set himself up for this.
"Well,” Vincent’s voice crackled, "Who has forged my signature is a question for later. The matter at hand is that we permitted a grave error. One that speaks poorly of our integrity. I’m truly sorry, Cole.” Turning to the guards, he asked, "What have you done with his things, Officer Atwood?”
"We burned them with his body.”
The smoke in the sky! Hope reduced to ash in that fire, and in her ignorance, Hesper barely considered it. David had said Jesurun was treated well, and Cole had called him on it. David backed out of his slip-up, and they had trusted him to be honest, but now: the truth. She watched David, hoping to read his face, to see an apology hidden there, or something determined and traitorous, but David did not look at her and offered no telling expressions.
"Very well. Nothing can be done now. Moving on.” Vincent waved his hand. "What are the charges and against whom are they directed?”
"The charge is treachery, Glorious One,” David announced. "Directed against Successor Cole Chandler.”
Vincent laughed. "Treachery? Who would have ever expected it, Cole? Certainly not me!”
Cole nodded.
"Speaking of treachery, this morning, I ordered the purging of the community you based yourself in during the years you used to cultivate your Gentle sentiments.”
Hesper’s heart throbbed. Perhaps she misunderstood.
Cole’s lips trembled. "Why?”
"It produces too much trouble, and we have solid evidence pointing to that community as the culprit in the attack on your nephew, Tom. It was time to stop that Earth People factory once and for all.” Vincent regarded Hesper. "I see we have a Gentle broken heart.”
Hesper sneered to overcome grief. Anger worked and looked better. Her situation tied her hands and emotions, rendering her powerless over anything and everything. What was the use of grief? It would not be the last of her losses.
"I no longer have a heart, Glorious One. It was broken long ago, and what remains is not worth your consideration.”
Vincent considered her in a manner she’d never seen. A sincere, apologetic, pitying frown. "My mockery was in poor taste. I’m sure this grieves you more deeply than you will show. You are a woman of great self-control, and I perceive by your quivering fists, you demonstrate restraint. I vow to make some restitution for your loss, Mrs. Chandler.”
She stilled her hands. Vincent was not a cold person, he was a burning one that left scars with his warmth.
He cleared his throat and redirected his attention to Cole. "You’re in trouble, Cole. What do you have to say in your defense?”
Cole coughed and rubbed at his sternum. He cleared his throat. "I appeal to the Book of Light.”
Vincent’s groan evolved into a laugh. "Oh, sweet mother of pearl, you have to be kidding.”
"I insist.” Cole closed his eyes and moved his lips in an almost imperceptible way. Hesper had seen him do this before. A whispered prayer.
"I half-hoped you were the Book.” Vincent shook his head in mock disappointment. "That group of chest-burning conspiracy theorists draws them. We’ve monitored those people for years. They have cells all over the place. Most of the time we got to the Books before they ever reached a ‘chest-burner.’
"You’ve been such a nuisance and your father had peculiar traits that required extra attention, so I thought sending you to one of their groups might awaken something. I tried to hurry things up a bit.” He shrugged. "But what excellent timing! You got the truth you wanted, and you’ve tasted the thrill! At least you’ll die happy, right?”
* * *
That Reverenced One, David, told Jes he was free to go, but Jes’ loyalty to Hesper got in the way. A few days ago, he would’ve taken him up on it, but a chunk of Hesper was stuck in his brain. She dug around to see his grief and left herself there. That’s how it felt anyway.
He wouldn’t change it, though. She lit up his world. Not just in his mind, but through his actual eyes. Almost as if he had been wearing sunglasses and Hesper took them off for him.
David had been leery of Jes’ suggestion that he hide behind the curtain in the Judgment Room instead of escape. Jes had to get a little tough. Convinced that David had a thing for Hesper, Jes used her potential fate and all its possibilities to convince David to agree to the idea.
David offered Jes a gun, but he didn’t want one. Why insult God like that? If It wanted this to work, it’d work, if It didn’t, it wouldn’t. He’d learned a thing or two about biting the hands that fed him, and he wasn’t diggin’ the idea of biting a god’s hand.
Stuck in this dark room for hours, Jes listened to Vincent’s pompous crap as he mocked Hesper, insulting powerless people living the last hours of their lives just to make it sting.
Friggin’ jerk. I’d love to break his neck.
He grabbed the curtain.
God, if you’re real, now’s not the time to ditch me, okay? ’Cause this is all I got. Me. Light me up and do what you want. I’m dead if I do, I’m dead if I don’t, but goin’ this way might make a difference for that girl out there. Give the kid a good chance, hey?
The next step? Dying.
In his experience, he stood a better chance if he acted like he’d never lost a fight. He smiled. Showtime.
Cole saw him first, and the wide-eyed, tight-jawed terror on his face made Jes giddy. The Kyrios twisted in their seats to see him. Red and orange blazed through his arm and chest, and his legs buzzed with energy.
"Hey, I got some wisdom from your god. It says you suck and you’re due for a hefty whoopin’.”
The Kyrios leaped from their seats a
s if bitten by their chairs. Reverenced One Minh toppled over. Ariana tore a knife from beneath her tunic and yanked David to herself. Pressing the knife against his throat, she screamed, "Someone grab the Book! Do you really have to be told?”
* * *
David submitted to the petite arm wrapped around his lower rib-cage—she couldn’t reach any higher. Her small size tempted people to underestimate her, but her knife, now scratching his skin, wasn’t to be trifled with. One intentional twitch of her hand would do him in.
Honestly, without him in the way, held as a hostage to keep the marionette strings dictating their actions, Jesurun and Cole would be free to act without reservations. Even if they didn’t take out the Kyrios, they would at least stand a chance.
What did he have to live for? Perhaps he should go out with a bang—or a slice, as it were—and give Hesper a chance to live and have a baby.
Otherwise, after a wedding night with Vincent, she’d set his bed on fire and he’d execute Immediate Justice. Someone ought to warn Vincent about Hesper and old Kali beforehand perhaps. The woman was pretty and reserved, but she’d give an untrustworthy crap like Vincent the fight of a rabid wolf. He’d win the fight, but she’d leave scars. Scars on his memory more than his body, most likely, but still . . . scars.
Reverenced One Minh pulled a gun on Jesurun.
Vincent shouted, "Put the gun down. If we can keep him alive, we should. It will simplify the process.”
Simplify what process?
At a standstill, everyone waited for Jesurun to surrender to save David. That settled it. Death might actually be a relief. Nepenthe, at last? All the mistakes, all the things he’d seen and wanted to stop, but didn’t, or couldn’t. All the pain he turned to pleasure to hide from and forget never became nepenthe. This would be, though. Even if he preferred to find it in life, this would have to do.
“Jesurun, surrender,” Ariana said. David took that moment of distraction to move his fingers enough to unsnap his gun holster. Cole’s eyes, shining and angry, screamed a warning. He wouldn’t understand right now, but if Ariana didn’t panic and cut David’s throat, Cole might be able to thank him later.
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