by Lucia Ashta
He obeyed immediately and put me back in the exact same spot I’d occupied for hours. I melted into the settee surface, whatever it was made of that I’d never seen on Earth. Or Planet Sand. Or whatever. I couldn’t think. Anxiety began to mount.
The confident woman I normally was didn’t want any part in this episode. I turned onto my side and curled my legs into myself, trying to become as small as possible, to better shut out what had become too much.
“Maybe you should sleep. Then you’ll feel better.”
“Hmm,” was all I could manage, and it wasn’t enough to relieve the concern etched across his face, every one of his burdens on display.
He said something more, but I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t take in any more. I sought out the relief of sleep, within which I didn’t have to think. Perhaps it was this sleep within sleep that would finally wake me from this terrible dream, even if I feared already that it wasn’t one.
NINE
I WOKE SLOWLY and long before I opened my eyes and gave myself away. I had no idea how long I’d slept, only that it had been enough time for another person to join us.
“I can’t believe you were going to try to go to Planet Sand without me there to help you,” the new voice was saying, in a loud whisper, likely intended to not disturb me.
“The risk was too great, and I didn’t know if there was anything you could do to help me anyway.” Tanus’ voice was tight.
“I could have at least had your back.”
“Really? Because I can still feel the blade you stuck in it years ago. You’ve been stabbing me in the back all the time that you… and she… kept secrets from me.”
There was a loud huff. “Tanus. I told you already. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to keep secrets from you.”
“But you did hurt me, Dolpheus.” Tanus enunciated each syllable of the second man’s name with too much precision. “And you did keep secrets from me.” Tanus paused, and when he continued, there was a hint of barely disguised apprehension in his voice, now soft with foreboding and regret. “Are there any more secrets you’re keeping from me? Is there more that I don’t know?”
“No. There isn’t.”
“Because if there is, now’s the time to tell me. I won’t forgive you for it if you continue to keep secrets from me when I’ve given you this chance to come clean.”
“No, Tan. There’s nothing else. I swear it.”
Tanus didn’t say anything for a long while, but I heard him pacing around the room, his footsteps soft and padding.
Finally, Dolpheus’ voice came again, this time pleading. “Come on, Tan. After all we’ve been through together, don’t you know me? Don’t you know I’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose?”
“You knew that keeping the little fact that you’d had sex with Ilara from me would hurt me. There was no way that you didn’t know that.”
Dolpheus let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “I know, man. I know what I did was terrible. But I didn’t do it to try to keep something from you. I didn’t do it to hurt you. I kept it from you precisely because I didn’t want you to hurt over something that didn’t mean anything to me or to her, and that happened before I realized something more meaningful was developing between the two of you.”
“Was she having sex with you at the same time she was having sex with me?”
“I don’t know, Tan.” Another pregnant sigh, another lament for a situation that couldn’t be replayed. “You weren’t telling me about being with her then. Just as I wasn’t telling you. Just as I don’t tell you about most women I’m with. We don’t talk about those things much.”
“What’s your best guess then? Was she doing you when she was doing me?”
“Do you really want to do this, Tan? Because I don’t. Do you really want to guess and hypothesize and relive things to cause yourself more pain?”
“No. But I can’t just let it go. You’re my best friend. She’s the woman I love. And you both lied to me. You hid being together from me. You knew about this the whole time I was with her. You two made me a fool.”
“Look, Tan. All I can tell you with certainty is that when I had sex with Ilara, I had no idea if she was also having sex with you at the same time, or intending to having sex with you soon thereafter. I didn’t know that you’d grow to love her, or she you. I had no way of knowing that she was the woman you would bind your love to. I connect with all sorts of women, and lots of them, you know that. She didn’t mean any more to me than any of the others.”
“That almost makes it worse.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’d be worse if she’d been special to me, or if I’d been special to her. Because then you’d feel as if that somehow tainted the specialness that you two share.”
“How can you know that she didn’t feel something for you?”
“Because I know, Tan. I can identify the moment a woman starts having thoughts about whatever physical intimacy we’re sharing becoming something more. I have a radar that goes off in my head. You know me. I’m not into relationships. So trust me, I know that Ilara didn’t love me. Just as I didn’t love her.”
I couldn’t hear Tanus’ response, but he must have nodded or something, because Dolpheus continued, encouraged. “I didn’t think much of bedding Ilara.”
“Even though she’s the Princess?”
“Even though she’s the Princess. I’ve bedded plenty of the courtiers from the royal palace, you know that. She might be a royal, but I didn’t think of it as all that different then. Once I realized that things were evolving between you and her, and that my bedding her was therefore pertinent, I worried that you’d feel betrayed by our sharing of pleasure of the body only. I didn’t want to hurt you, and the more time that passed, the more I worried that you’d feel more hurt by my not telling you. In the end, I decided to spare you from the knowledge.”
“You lied to me.”
“Did I? If you’d asked me if I’d ever bedded Ilara, I’d have answered truthfully. You never asked that specifically, or anything else that could lead to this one fact. So I just let it be. I never lied to you. Not once. And I never will.”
“I see.”
“Come on. Tan, we’ve been through so much together. You know me. I mean, you really know me, better than any woman I’ve ever had sex with. Better than my father ever did, even. You know the type of person I am. And you must know that I only kept this from you because I believed it was best for you. You must know that I’d never hurt you intentionally.”
Silence.
“You do know that, Tan, don’t you?” The imploring tone had returned to Dolpheus’ voice. “You’re my closest friend in the entire universe. Actually, you’re my only friend. You’re the only person on all of O that I trust. I thought that you felt the same way about me.”
I heard Dolpheus plunk down into a chair with all the weight of disappointment. Then Tanus’ footsteps halted. “You are my closest, and only, friend, Olph. You always have been.”
“Then will you please forgive me and understand that my actions were a failure in judgment, but not a betrayal, never a betrayal?”
I held my breath from the settee, waiting for Tanus’ response. Even though I didn’t know Dolpheus, his emotion was evident, and I couldn’t help but feel for him.
Tanus pulled in a loud breath; it was even louder on the way out. “Yes. I forgive you.”
“Excellent. Most excellent.” Dolpheus sounded as happy as birds celebrating the sun coming out after a rainstorm. “Thanks, man. It’ll be good to have my friend back. I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah. I’ve missed you too.”
“Are you going to forgive her?” Dolpheus was serious again.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do with her. She doesn’t seem to remember anything about her life on O. It’s hard to be angry at someone for betraying you when she doesn’t even remember doing it. Or me for that matter. She doesn’t even remember me.”
Dolp
heus whistled. “That’s harsh, man. After all this time of searching for her and putting your life at risk for her, and now she doesn’t even remember you?”
“Tell me about it. It was definitely an unpleasant surprise.”
“So how on O did you get her here? How did you do it without using a transport machine? I thought that was impossible.”
“You know how things that are ‘impossible’ turn out for us…”
“Yeah. I do. They reveal themselves as possible. But how the hell did you do this?”
“Well, that’s a long story.”
“Perfect. I’m gonna get comfortable.”
A door opened and a woman’s voice whisked in. “I was giving you guys space to sort out your little drama and emotional bull-honkey, as if we have nothing better to do with our time, but I don’t want to miss this. I need to know how you did this, Tanus. I’ve never heard of something like this being done.”
“Lila,” Tanus said to the woman. “What’s she doing here?” he asked Dolpheus.
“It’s Lila. What else was I supposed to do with her?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the woman asked.
The men ignored her. “So then, where’s Kai?” Tanus asked.
“I’m here,” a third man’s voice said, as footsteps ushered him into the room. “Sorry, Tanus. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Wasn’t exactly sure what to do with myself.”
“That’s all right, man. Come on in.”
“Oh, so he gets a warm welcome, but I don’t?”
I hadn’t even looked at the woman, and already she annoyed me.
“Weren’t you the one complaining about drama just a minute ago?” Dolpheus said.
“I’m not causing drama. I’m protesting injustice.”
Again, the men moved on without addressing her. “So how’d you do it, Tan?” Dolpheus asked.
“I’ll tell you. But let’s go to another room. I don’t want to wake her.”
I took that as my cue to wake audibly, for the benefit of the four other people in the room. There was no way I was going to miss whatever they were going to say about my situation. I needed all the information I could get to attempt to fit the ill-shaped pieces together.
TEN
THE WOMAN NAMED Lila stared at me like I was a specimen. “Well, the Princess definitely doesn’t look dead,” she said, leaning forward in her chair to peer at me, forearms on her thighs. I stared back at her without expression. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of showing her how uncomfortable her scrutiny made me.
I was used to being the odd one out. I’d always been a bit of a loner, the person who did her own thing, who moved to her own rhythm, and I liked it that way. What I didn’t like was feeling like everyone else around me was in on some private joke that I didn’t get. Everyone here, including this Lila woman, knew more about me than I did.
“She’s obviously the Princess,” Lila was saying. “So what’s the problem?”
“There’s no ‘problem,’ Lila.” Tanus said with patience it was clear he didn’t feel. “Everything will work itself out with time. Ilara just doesn’t remember being the Princess right now.”
“Well, that’s a pretty big deal. How’s the King going to like that? His daughter’s back, but she doesn’t know who she is?”
“I’m not worried about the King,” Tanus said.
“Maybe you should be. King Oderon is fierce. He might blame you for the Princess losing her memory since you’re the one who brought her back.”
“For fuck’s sake, Lila. Can’t you back off, for once? Do you have to be such a ball breaker all the time?” Dolpheus said. “The Princess only just arrived. She’s probably disoriented, nothing more. She transported across light years. No one’s ever done that before, and Planet Sand’s fucking far away. So give it a rest already.”
“Jeesh. Someone’s got an attitude. Has Mr. All-Women-Love-Me not been getting any lately?”
“That’s enough, Lila,” Tanus said, and she quieted.
A few moments later, the shy-looking guy, who seemed like he was in his early twenties, spoke. “The memory loss could be a temporary side effect of transporting across such a great distance, couldn’t it? I mean, since no one’s ever done it before, traveled from one planet to another, light years away, without using a transporter, we don’t know what the effects of it are. It could wear off on its own, right?”
“That’s my hope, Kai,” Tanus said, while he cast a sad glance at me. Maybe he was thinking the same thing I was: that I hadn’t remembered him even before he pulled me into the lake. I hadn’t known his name then, before I transported or whatever it was that I did. Even if I didn’t know him, a part of me felt as if I did, and I felt sorry for him. He loved me, that was obvious. And he’d believed that I also loved him. Yet whatever relationship we’d shared had disappeared from existence, all because I no longer shared the memories of our togetherness.
Dolpheus walked over to Tanus and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “What do you want to do now?”
“I don’t know.” Tanus turned to give his friend a sad smile, then moved away to resume his pacing. His hand raked through brown curls, making them spring in multiple directions at once. “Obviously, Ilara needs time to rest before anything else.”
“And now there’s no hurry for her to rest. There’s no need to do the King’s bidding anymore,” Dolpheus said. “After all, you were only going to break into your father’s—I mean, Lord Brachius’—splicing facility to give the King information so he could lead you to Ilara. You only agreed to help the King to find out what planet she was on.”
“That’s all true. But if you recall, the King didn’t ask me to break into Lord Brachius’ facility. He ordered me too. There’s a big difference. And you know what that means.”
“It means that we don’t have a choice. We have to do the King’s bidding, whether we like it or not.”
“Yep.”
“Fuck, man! We get out of one tight situation only to get into another.”
Where Dolpheus seemed frustrated, his comment had the opposite effect on Tanus. His face split into a grin. Suddenly, he looked quite handsome, with sparkling eyes. He chuckled. “When’s it ever been any different for us?”
Dolpheus paused, then laughed too. “We’ve been getting into trouble together since we were wee boys.”
I noticed that Kai followed their conversation with something akin to admiration, as if he wished to become the third wheel of their friendship. But Lila was less impressed. “Now that you two have kissed and made up, can we focus? You have to go to the splicing facility. You know it. You have to do what the King ordered, or he’ll have you killed. Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, you promised me that you’d return to the splicing facility and put a stop to what Lord Brachius is doing once you got the Princess back. Here she is. So it’s time to make good on your promise.”
“We did not promise you anything, Lila, and you damn well know it,” Dolpheus said.
“Maybe you didn’t promise. But you should do it anyway. You owe me.”
“And why, exactly, do we owe you?” Tanus asked.
“Because of the teensy weensy fact of my kidnapping. Or have you forgotten that already?”
“We didn’t want to kidnap you, and we didn’t hurt you,” Dolpheus ground out. “It was a necessity of the circumstances. We’ve already done what we could to right that.”
“Still. You could do a good deed and do me a favor all at the same time. Put out two suns with one stone, as they say. You could put a stop to a great evil and make up for holding me hostage.”
“So you’ve said,” Dolpheus said.
No one asked me what I thought. I remained quiet, watching and listening, doing my best not to freak out. I could handle this. No big deal. I was on a different planet, where I was purportedly a princess come back to life, survivor of an assassination attempt. The King, my supposed father, sounded like a tyrant, and my presumed lover, a kidnapper. And
that was just what they’d admitted to in the short time since I’d arrived.
I looked at the redheaded Kai. At least he looked nice, even if he apparently idolized Tanus and Dolpheus.
“There’s also the matter of having Ilara make an appearance for the preservation of the monarchy, if we still care about that.” Dolpheus’ comment was directed only at Tanus.
“Yeah. There’s also that. Is the King still not woken?”
“Far as I know. So this is a consideration independent of the King’s wishes. This is a question of whether the Princess is necessary to peace on Planet O.”
“If the King doesn’t wake up soon, there could be a revolution,” Kai added. “Unless Oers know the Princess is alive and well.”
“Even if she doesn’t remember that she’s the Princess?” Tanus asked.
“Even then,” Kai said.
Tanus began to pace again, hands nervous, moving through his hair. Finally, he stopped padding across the floor and drew next to me. He looked at me, as if seeking permission before sitting down on the settee. I didn’t give the permission, but neither did I withhold it. After a few beats passed, he sat anyway.
He hesitated, then reached for my hand. When he held it between his, there was a spark of recognition that I couldn’t quantify or understand. I still didn’t recognize him as he thought I should. Still, there was a sense of familiarity between us that didn’t originate just with him. “What do you want to do, Ilara?”
I laughed, but my laugh was entirely devoid of mirth. “I don’t know who I am, or where I am, or even how I got here. How can I possibly know what I want to do? I’m wholly unfamiliar with the workings of this world, even if you all think I should be.”
Sorrow haunted Tanus’ face; I knew I’d caused it, even if there was nothing false in what I said. In that part of me that experienced an inexplicable familiarity with him, I wanted to soothe him. I wanted to take his pain away, especially pain that I’d caused. “What do you want me to say, Tanus?” I said softly. “I want to remember. I want to remember you. I can’t help it that I don’t.”
He met my eyes, my cosmic eyes that everyone else I’d ever known had recoiled from. “I know you can’t. I’m just relieved you’re back. The rest will come with time. I can be patient.”