"Lyss?" Vel said, poking his head in. "Are you okay? I heard screaming."
"Fine," she said, unable to look at him.
"You look white as a sheet." He smirked. "You didn't dream about another cliff, did ya?"
"No," she whispered, heading straight into the bathroom to splash water on her face. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, you missed breakfast," Vel said, proffering a napkin. "Brought you a biscuit."
"Why was breakfast so damned early?"
"Duh," Vel said, looking at her through the mirror. To Lyssa's stumped reaction, he replied, "We have Temple this morning."
"Oh," Lyssa said, shades of her dream coming back to her. "Enjoy."
"Thought you might like to go."
"Why?" Lyssa grunted, wiping her face.
"Because it seems to me you could use some time to reflect," Vel said, as she took the biscuit from him.
"I don't need to reflect on anything," Lyssa said, brushing past him. "I've been to a Helmsley sermon before. All he does is take whatever's pissed Mother off that week and turn it into an hour-long diatribe."
"That's not true at all." Vel sighed. "He has very insightful and thoughtful presentations about how we can look at ourselves and make sure we're doing what is required to ascend to heaven—"
"Oh, well," Lyssa said, pulling on a clean shirt. "Maybe it's just when I attend that he spends the whole time not-so-subtly hinting about how terrible I am."
"Or maybe, his words ring so close to home that you can't help but feel like he's talking about you."
"No, I actually think Mother tells him to target me."
"Come with me. I'm going to prove you wrong."
"Fine," Lyssa said, slipping her mini-computer into her pocket. If anything, she could do some bounty hunting while she was stuck in there.
The sun was already hot, as evidenced by the waving fans blowing air into the faces of women in at least ten different layers of dress, between petticoats, slips, and the intricate outer dress. Each one gave her a disapproving (perhaps jealous) look as she waltzed by in her wrinkled pants and wrinkled shirt.
The Temple at the Manor was the very first building constructed on the planet. The spot was chosen because Leveman's Vortex was visible through the giant open window during the entire sermon, providing real incentive for the attendees to pay attention. The Vortex caught Lyssa's eye as she walked into the chapel, the rows of pews already filled with people milling about. Vel pulled her into the center of an empty pew near the front.
"No, I'd rather not be so close," Lyssa said.
"Nonsense, this is the best spot to see the Vortex."
"I've seen it enough," she muttered, helplessly looking around.
Her gaze danced across the murals painted on the walls, depictions of ancient travelers to the Vortex who'd tried to use trickery to get around the soul weighing. Mercurious stood behind his younger, more pious brother during the treacherous journey through Lethe, until his brother passed beyond the arch. Rongo used magic to transform himself into a child, but his soul was weighed just the same. Others that Lyssa couldn't remember lined the rest of the wall, each making it far enough to the soul weighing.
All of them had the same fate—falling into Plegethon, the terrible river of fire.
Just like her.
Lyssa's attention was drawn from the murals as Priest Helmsley came to the podium, shuffling about papers. Right next to him came Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate, dressed in her very best temple outfit, exquisite green silk and a giant hat. She sat in her ordinate chair next to Priest Helmsley and darted her small eyes out across the audience.
Lyssa watched with dread as they landed squarely on her and a smug smile grew on her face. She tutted to Helmsley, who leaned over to her. His gaze rose until it met hers, and he reshuffled his papers, nodding.
"Good morning, all," he said, his voice echoing in the suddenly quiet temple.
"Good morning," a chorus of voices responded back.
"Blessed be our matriarch on this anniversary of the day her soul left the Great Vortex," he said, looking out in the crowd. "Blessings to the beautiful family she has created in her years since, a family that has dedicated themselves to the Great Creator and serving piously in His vision."
"Here we go," Lyssa muttered.
"Oh stop," Vel said, nudging her. "Not everything is about you."
"But some among us," he said, "some among us have strayed from the teachings of the scriptures. Some of us are living lives of falsehoods, of evil purpose. And no evil is more vile than that of perpetrating lies—especially to those who love us most of all."
Lyssa turned and gave Vel a pointed look. He intentionally ignored her, a forced happy look on his face.
"There is no shortcut to eternal bliss," Helmsley said, his eyes continuing to sweep over in Lyssa's general area. "Mercurious found this to be true. We recall how he followed behind his brother—his pious, good brother, who lived a life we could all envy—through the white fields of Lethe to Eron's Arch."
Lyssa nudged Vel. "Oh, is that supposed to be a dig at you? You haven't been living a very pious life lately—"
"Shut up. I love this story."
"You know how it ends," Lyssa said, looking at the man falling to his death in a fiery river.
"You know, you could at least try to be a little bit respectful."
"The both of you had better quiet down or I will make you be quiet!" Sera snapped from in front of them.
Lyssa responded by sticking her tongue out.
"You are such a child," Sera muttered before turning around.
"Mercurious," Helmsley continued, "thought he'd outsmarted the Great Creator, as he'd crossed the white fields of Lethe, and could even see the Arch of Eron—touch it almost. The moment his brother's soul passed beyond…"
"He fell to his doom into Plegethon," Lyssa muttered, as Helmsley boomed across the audience.
Her mini-computer buzzed. Looking around, she quietly pulled it out, looking at the missed video call she'd received from Sage. Knowing he would continue to bug her, she sent him a message:
Can't talk. What do you want?
After a few moments, he responded: Where ya been?
She looked around to see if anyone was watching her—they were all paying rapt attention to Helmsley's detailed story about how this Moronious or whatever-his-name-was burned for all eternity.
She turned back to her mini-computer and responded: Got dragged to Manor. Why?
She waited for a moment then received another message from him.
The Manor-Manor? As in your Mother's house? As in the place you swore you would never go to again?
She pursed her lips, annoyed. Yes, the Manor. What do you want?
You turned in the top bounty then disappeared from radar. Thought you'd strut around, seeing as your bounty just went up another 5M.
She switched applications to look at her bounty profile:
A smile grew on her face. This was it! This was the kind of thing she was looking for. Turn in a bounty, see an immediate increase in hers. Finally, people were—
"Quit looking at that thing in Temple," Vel said.
Lyssa made a face at him and turned back to her messages:
Dissident was sooo happy Journot was captured.
Lyssa frowned, typing back: He told me I'd embarrassed the web, said he regretted taking me off probation.
Bullshit. I've never seen him so happy. But you know him—he's too stubborn to admit when he's wrong.
Lyssa bit her lip and replied: Meaning what?
She waited with bated breath for his response:
Meaning he knows you're a damned good bounty hunter.
"Yes!" she hissed, louder than she'd meant to.
Helmsley, in the middle of describing the horrible pain that comes with burning in an eternal hellfire, stared at her with his mouth open. Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate looked about ready to slaughter her.
Vel, on the other hand, simply plucked the
mini-computer out of her hand and tucked it under his arm, smiling back at the two of them, as if the problem were now solved.
Lyssa sat back with her arms folded across her chest, but couldn't bring herself to be upset.
Dissident thought Razia was a good bounty hunter. And it was only a matter of time before she proved it to the rest of them.
***
She scrolled through the different bounty profiles of the top ten—eager to take her pick of any of them. After rescuing her mini-computer from the clutches of Vel, who would only relent once Helmsley had completed his long-winded sermon, she'd trotted out into the intricately designed gardens of the Manor. She'd found herself a shady tree far away from the screaming spawn of her siblings, near one of the many artificial ponds dotting the landscape. She'd been there for what seemed like hours, enjoying the nice breeze and the occasional bird that landed on the lake.
"Here you are!" Vel said behind her. He plopped down next to her, wearing his running clothes and shoes, and sucked down his water. "I've been looking for you all afternoon."
"Why didn't you get me if you were going for a run?" Lyssa pouted.
"'Cause you disappeared after Temple," Vel said, his breath labored. "I've been running all over the place looking for you. Tried your ship, tried Father's lab—"
"It was unlocked?" Lyssa said, eyebrows raised, remembering her dream again. She couldn't figure out why it kept popping into the forefront of her mind, but it was starting to get old.
"No," Vel said, shaking his head. "But I knocked on the door for a few minutes before I realized you weren't in there."
"Nobody knows the code," Lyssa mumbled.
Vel sighed, sitting back against the tree and resting. "Beautiful day," he panted.
"Yup," Lyssa said, looking out into the pond. "So apparently Dissident was actually happy that I had captured Journot."
"What?" Vel said, looking over at her. "Really?"
"That's what Sage said," Lyssa said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"That's awesome," Vel said, gently nudging her.
"It's a relief, to be honest," Lyssa said, looking down at her mini-computer. "I was starting to question myself there…"
"Well," Vel said, looking at her curiously. "You can't actually think that the Great Creator wants you to be a bounty hunter, can you?"
Lyssa looked up sharply, but not because she was angry at Vel. Yet again, she was reminded of her dream, and what Sostas had said to her right before she woke up.
"I know you don't believe in the Great Creator, but—" Vel started.
"I believe in Him."
"You—you do?"
"I've been inside, Vel," she said, looking out over the pond. "Inside-inside. As in through the white fields of Lethe to the Arch of Eron."
Vel was silent, his eyes wide as he mouthed words he couldn't form.
"Sostas was doing experiments there," Lyssa continued, staring firmly ahead. "Trying to figure out what it all meant, where it all came from."
"Hang on. Hang. On. You've been inside Leveman's Vortex?"
She nodded solemnly.
"How?"
"Sostas figured out a mathematical equation for entry," Lyssa said. "And, obviously, exit. It's this complex thing—weight of the ship, proximity to other celestial bodies, all that junk. There’s a very specific calculation that—"
"I'm sorry," Vel said, looking at her as if she had three heads. "You have been inside Leveman's Vortex?"
"About once a month since I was four years old. Until Sostas left, of course…"
"So…it's all real?" Vel whispered.
"Look at you, Mr. Non-believer," Lyssa chided him gently.
"I mean, it's one thing to go on pure faith." Vel swallowed, sitting back against the tree with a shocked look still on his face. "But quite another…you're sure you've been there?"
She nodded, unable to wipe the image of the world crumbling from her mind.
"What's it like?"
"It's weird," Lyssa said, eager to talk about anything other than what she was imagining. "There's a fluctuating magnetic field that scrambles your brain a bit, if I remember correctly. But it's this big white place that you just wander around for a while until you come across the arch."
"The Arch of Eron is real?"
She nodded. "Sostas would make me sit in front of it while he puttered on his experiments."
"That's... It seems kind of wrong to be experimenting there." Vel shook his head. "That place is holy—"
"It was damned boring is what it was."
"Do you think...do you think that's where he is?"
"Why in Leveman's Vortex do you want to meet him so badly?" Lyssa asked, rather than answering his question. "Why do all this? Why this internship? Why work with Pymus, of all people?"
"Lyssa, I'm sixteen years old, and I've never met my father."
"Why is it so important to meet him?"
"He's my father." Vel shrugged, now looking out into the pond as Lyssa had done before. "I mean, sure, I had older brothers. But none of them are my actual father. He's always been a ghost in this house—never seen, but still there. Everyone always talked about how he doted on you—so I thought, well…maybe if he was still alive…" he trailed off.
"And what if he was alive?"
"Maybe we could've had the relationship I've always dreamed about?" Vel said hopefully. "Maybe he'd pat me on the shoulder and say, 'Atta boy, Vel, you're doing great.' Maybe he'd…I don't know." He blushed.
Lyssa stared at him for a minute. It had never occurred to her in the absence of knowing the real man, Vel might've fabricated this romantic notion of Sostas. She knew in her heart that, given the chance, Sostas wouldn't give Vel the time of day. Sostas couldn't even make time for his eldest son, no matter how hard he tried or how much he did to impress him.
But as she watched Vel, so young and innocent, she found herself feeling the need to lie to him.
"I think he would've really liked you," she said.
***
"So, how long do I have to stay here?" Lyssa grumbled, angrily crossing her hands over her chest.
"I really wish you'd worn a dress," Vel said, adjusting his white tie and long black suit coat. "You look like a heathen."
"I don't wear dresses," Lyssa said, smoothing out the wrinkles on her nicest DSE-appropriate pants. "You didn't answer my question—how long do I have to stay here?"
"You have to have one conversation with Mother," Vel said, looping his arm through hers. "Lasting at least five minutes. And it has to be civil."
"Define civil."
"You know what I mean," Vel said, leading her out into the ballroom—now filled with people. Ladies wearing full dresses of silk and lace, curled hair and painted faces. Men wore long black waistcoats and high socks—some even sporting white wigs, although it was considered woefully out of fashion. They were swirling about the floor much like Lyssa remembered them to be when she used to sit in the corner with Sostas.
"Let's get this over with," Lyssa muttered, spotting the guest of honor. Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate was dressed in her most beautiful green silk dress, complete with a petticoat nearly large enough to offset her already large frame. She was surrounded by her sisters, each as rotund as her, and Sera, who looked much like a twig next to them. It was obvious that the three elder women had been drinking, but Sera was watching Lyssa with sober precision.
"Well, look who we have here!" Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate said, her glass filled with her signature drink—brandy.
"Be nice," Vel hissed before turning to smile. "Mother, you look beautiful."
"Yes, son," she said dismissively, turning to look Lyssa up and down. "Great Creator in Leveman's Vortex, do you even own a dress, or are you perfectly fine with walking around looking like you were raised by wolves?"
"Mother, please be nice," Vel said.
"Well, I supposed she practically was," said one of the sisters, wearing a rather odd shade of pink for a dress, swirled her brandy.
"After all, Eleonora, you barely had a hand in her rearing."
One of the other sisters giggled like a woman half her age. "Tell me, dear Lyssandra, how is your father?"
"Mother," Vel interrupted, feeling Lyssa stiffen next to him. "May we have a private chat?"
"Lyssandra continues to maintain that she has no idea where her father has run off to." Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate laughed, ignoring Vel completely.
Her sisters twittered amusedly as they daintily sipped their drinks.
"Lyssandra, you honestly expect us to believe Sostas would leave behind his darling little ragamuffin assistant? Why, he doted on you so!" one of the women cooed poisonously. "Ignored all his other children just to spend time with you."
"Don't bother," Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate said. "Lyssandra doesn't care for her siblings—didn't even lift a finger when her own intern was kidnapped by a pirate underneath her very nose."
"Oh, my!"
"Oh, my goodness!"
"Mother, I was fine," Vel said, looking between Lyssa and Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate. "Lyssa—"
"Well, Mother, I guess I learned from the best, didn't I?"
The twittering stopped, and Vel turned to look to Lyssa sharply.
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate said, her glass refilled with brandy by a passing servant.
"Please don't," Vel whispered. "Just let it go. We can get out of here—deal is done."
"Yes, Mother, why don't you tell everyone what happened when I was kidnapped?" Lyssa seethed, angrily tearing her arm from Vel's and facing her mother full on. "And what you said when I had a gun to my head?"
"I'm sure I don't remember what you're talking about." She laughed, but Lyssa could see the nerves behind her jovial eyes.
"Then let me help you remember, you stupid bitch," Lyssa said, blood pulsing in her ears. Everyone and everything in the room suddenly stopped—or maybe it was all in her head.
"Lyssa," Vel said, placing his hand on her arm again.
She angrily tossed it away. "You said, 'Why don't you call your father, Lyssandra.'"
"I'm sure that—" Mrs. Dr. Sostas Peate laughed nervously.
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