The Rising Gold

by Ava Jae

  I take a deep breath and rub the mark that starts at my wrist. “I’m Sira now, so I make law, right?”

  Deimos hesitates and nods. “You do, sha. And you have advisors to help you do that, who you’ll meet at the Council meeting later this set.”

  “Okay.” I take another steadying breath, ignoring the vibrating hum gathering in my chest. “I know the first thing I want to do.” I glance at Deimos, who’s just looking at me expectantly. So. I guess I’ll just say it then. “I want to abolish slavery in all territories. No one should be owned like a … like a thing. And it shouldn’t be illegal to be free, like it is for humans now.”

  “Hm,” Deimos says. “That’s true.”

  I run my hand through my hair. “I’m thinking enslaved people should be given the option to either continue their work for a living wage, or otherwise we should set up assistance shelters to house them and help place them in new homes and find jobs.”

  “You’ve thought this through.” Deimos smiles softly.

  I nod. “I want it done.”

  “Well, I’m glad you have some direction,” Deimos says. “Slavery has actually already been completely abolished in Invino, Daïvi, Kel’al, and Ona for a generation or so—the servants in the palace here are all paid a living wage. It’s also partially outlawed in A’Sharo, and I can tell you it wouldn’t be difficult to convince my brother to go all the way and completely abolish the practice, both for moral reasons and because it’d better ingratiate A’Sharo with the other territories. I imagine it won’t be difficult to convince Kora of the same. But you’re still left with Sekka’l, who, judging by their refusal to attend your coronation, aren’t especially fond of you.”

  I hesitate. “So making a global law against it would really only affect A’Sharo, Elja, and Sekka’l.”

  “Right, and I suspect only Sekka’l would care about it, as slavery creates a much more significant portion of their economy, so they’d have the largest financial ramifications. That was the excuse they’d used a generation ago when the first wave of anti-slavery sentiment began, and I don’t have any reason to believe that’s changed. But as they already seem to dislike you to begin with …” Deimos shrugs. “If I’m being honest, I don’t see you ever having a particularly positive relationship with Sekka’l. If this is important to you—and I believe it is—I wouldn’t compromise just to appease them.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  “Good.” Deimos pauses. He runs his thumb over the stubble on his chin. “You will anger some with this decision, particularly the wealthy—there are always ripple effects—but enslaved people are exclusively used as personal assistants these sets, except in Sekka’l. Not that it makes it any better—enslavement is enslavement regardless of the type of work they’re forced to do, and I don’t want to excuse that, but I don’t think it should be overly difficult to implement and I believe overall it will be received positively. We can talk about this with the Council.”

  I nod. “So what’s the process for making a new law after talking it over with the Council?”

  “Nothing complicated. You make the announcement and, as ken Sira’s word is law, it becomes law.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

  Deimos snickers. “That’s it. As for now, I’m guessing you won’t be sleeping for the rest of the night, so how does some ljnte and a review of the duties you’ll be expected to perform as Sira sound?”

  “The ljnte sounded good until the review part.” Deimos laughs and I smile and shrug. “But I guess it won’t be so bad since you’re sure to make it entertaining.”

  Deimos’s eyes sparkle with unspoken mischief. “Always.”

  Unlike the Emergency Council with one representative for each territory that still has a living former Avra plus the former Sira, the regular Council has eight members. Deimos says most Councils across Safara just have four, but the number is doubled for the Sira since the job is so big, and also eight is a sacred number or something. Unlike humans, they have eight sets a week and eight terms a cycle, so I probably should’ve guessed that.

  Ordinarily I’d be skeptical of a room full of Sepharon who are supposed to give me the benefit of the doubt and treat me like any other new Sira, but Deimos picked these people himself, so maybe it won’t be so bad.

  Maybe.

  The meeting room where the Council gathers is small compared the monstrous size of the other palace rooms, but it’s still large enough to fit, like, fifty tents easy with space between them. The white sandstone walls are scattered with black and gold mosaics. There’s a long crescent table in the center, and the Council members all stand as I enter, lined up on the closer side of the table, leaving an entire table side for Deimos and me. Or maybe just me. I’m not really sure where Deimos is supposed to sit.

  The Council members bow as I walk to the far side of the table, in the center, at the top of the curve, and face them.

  They’re not what I expected. I’m not sure what I expected. A room full of old men, I guess. But this … is not that.

  The Council is half women, to start with, and one person whose gender isn’t obvious. Of the remaining three guys, one is older, one is middle-aged, and the other doesn’t look more than ten cycles older than Deimos and me. He’s the youngest Council member save for maybe the androgynous person—the women are all middle-aged or older.

  I honestly hadn’t expected this much diversity in the room. It’s kinduv nice.

  “Um, welcome,” I say. “I’m honored you’ve all chosen to join me s—thank you.”

  “It’s an honor to serve you,” the ungendered Council member says lightly. The others nod.

  They’re still standing. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to sit first, or if I’m allowed to sit first. Deimos didn’t mention this detail. I’m pretty sure I’m overthinking it, but what if I’m not? If I’ve learned anything in my time in Asheron it’s that every tiny thing means something.

  I glance at Deimos. He looks back at me, then looks at the cushion I’m supposed to kneel on, then back to me, his eyebrows slightly lifted.

  Okay, I guess I’m supposed to sit first. So I do, and the others follow suit.

  Everyone is looking at me. They each have Sephari letters projected over the table in front of them—I’m assuming their names, but I’m still trying to learn how to read Sephari. I know it reads right to left instead of left to right, like English. And the big, swoopy letters are the vowels. But a person’s name isn’t just the vowels, so even though I recognize a couple Es and Os—which I’ve learned from my own name—that doesn’t really help.

  Do they know I can’t read?

  Has there ever been a Sira who couldn’t read? I’m guessing no.

  “Why don’t we start with introductions?” Deimos says. “Just to get everyone acquainted, and so Eros can understand your unique perspectives.”

  They go through their names and where they come from and their experiences. There’s too much information for me to remember it all—I’m sure Deimos has it all memorized anyway, so I’m not too worried.

  One of the middle-aged guys—the one who sits directly across from me, Rion—was Asha’s personal advisor, like Deimos is for me. He smiles a lot more than I’d ordinarily expect from a middle-aged Sepharon guy, and he’s got the general Ona look—slightly lighter skin than Eljans, but the same short dark hair and multi-toned eyes. He has a trim beard, though. That’s a little different.

  He’s also the first to speak. “I understand Deimos has been teaching you the expectations and role of Sira to the best of his ability.”

  I nod. “Deimos has been a huge help.”

  “I’m certain that’s true. There are, however, important differences between the way one raises an Avra and the way a Sira is prepared.” He looks at Deimos. “Not to offend, of course, I’m sure your guidance has been more than adequate for Eros thus far.”

  “Naï, it’s fine.” Deimos waves his hand. “I’m aware I’m not fully equipped to teach Er
os the ins and outs of being a Sira. That’s why I felt it was important to appoint someone who has worked with a Sira before.”

  “I’m glad.” Rion smiles. “And I’d be honored to help you prepare, alongside Deimos, Eros. Just to supplement what Deimos doesn’t know to teach you.”

  “That’s fine,” I say. “Thank you.”

  Rion bows his head.

  “Now onto more pressing matters,” Kenna says. “I’m sure you know we have a lot of immediate issues to tackle, el Sira.”

  I nod. “I know the nanites are a top priority. What can we do to get that fixed as soon as possible?”

  “Ah, that’s my area of expertise,” the Council person says. Their name was Tol. I think. I’m pretty sure. “I’m your Scientific Advisor. I’ll be working with the technological team and updating you with their progress and ideas.”

  “Tol is very skilled at their work,” Deimos says. “They worked with Serek to help write the code that allowed nanites to create physical objects—like Serek’s sand bike. It was groundbreaking work.”

  Tol grins. “It was fascinating work. I look forward to returning to it, once the nanites are fully restored.”

  “How long do you think that’ll take?” I ask. “I’m aware the lack of nanites is a pretty serious problem.”

  “I can’t say for sure,” Tol says. “But if you establish it as a priority—”

  “I’m making it a priority,” I say. “I don’t think anyone will object to that.” I pause and glance around the room, but no one does. “Good. It’s a priority.”

  Tol nods. “Then I’ll direct all of our scientific resources to that aim. But even then, I imagine it’ll take many terms at best to restore even our most basic functions planet-wide. And likely a cycle or more to move on from basic functions to secondary luxuries the nanites provided us. Assuming the blackout didn’t heavily damage the machine that creates the nanites, of course.”

  I frown. “Is that likely?”

  “It’s not unlikely.”

  Great. I sigh. “Just make it a top priority.”

  Tol nods.

  “I was thinking,” Deimos says. “It might be a good idea for el Sira to meet the scientists and see the research facility. Just to become better acquainted with the way things run and meet the people who will be in charge of such a monumental task.”

  It feels weird for Deimos to refer to me not by my name, but as his Sira. The Sira part still feels like a coat too big for me to wear, but the part before it—el, my—I don’t mind that part.

  Even though everyone else says it, too, I kinduv like that part coming from him.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Tol says. “I’m certain the team will be honored to meet you, el Sira.”

  “Sure,” I say. “That’s fine with me.”

  “Good,” Kenna says. “With that settled, we need to talk about Elja.”

  I frown. “What about Elja?”

  “I’m sure you’re aware it was Dima who pushed Roma to order the nanite attack that killed so many redbloods,” she says. “He lied to manipulate the former Sira so that Roma would lash out. Such an act can’t be left unpunished.”

  I hesitate. Dima did play a part in the attack, they’re right. But it kinduv sounds like they’re trying to pin the whole thing on him, which is giving him way too much credit.

  “I don’t disagree,” I say. “But Dima didn’t come up with the plan himself, as far as we know. Roma was already looking for an excuse to lash out at the humans. Dima’s lie gave him the excuse he wanted, but even if he hadn’t, I’m sure Roma would’ve come up with some other excuse anyway. He was determined to kill off the human population.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Kenna says.

  I shrug. “Maybe not, but while I think Dima should be punished, I won’t blame him entirely for the nanite attack. He didn’t force Roma to send out the order. Roma made that decision on his own.”

  “That’s true,” Rion says. “But Roma isn’t here to suffer the consequences of his actions, and the people need to see some retribution. We must try him here in Asheron, in front of Safara’s highest court.”

  “I’m not convinced punishing Dima is the answer,” the oldest Council member, Menos, says. Everyone looks at him skeptically, but he seems undeterred. “Roma isn’t dead—he could be woken from his comatose state and put on trial himself. And to make a statement about Elja’s unacceptable role in inciting a war crime, Elja as a nation should be punished.”

  My stomach twists. Punish a whole nation because Dima is a murderous asshole? “Naï,” I say firmly. “We’re not punishing all of Elja for one man’s actions.”

  “He wasn’t just a man.” Menos shakes his head. “He was their Avra. He represents their nation.”

  “But what he does isn’t dictated by the people,” I answer. “The Eljans had nothing to do with Dima’s decisions. They don’t deserve that.” The first part of what he said sinks in, too. “Wait, waking Roma up? Absolutely not.”

  “Shae, I don’t think that’s a good idea either.” Deimos frowns. “Not to mention it seems disrespectful, given Serek’s final act was to put the former Sira into a comatose state, rather than using the nanites to save his own life. Waking him up would make Serek’s sacrifice pointless.”

  “I agree,” Rion says. “I don’t believe we should wake Roma. His punishment is wasting the rest of his life away in a heavily armed cell, unable to experience anything. It’s a terrible punishment I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

  I nod, though I don’t say what I’m thinking. That even if most of the Council members wanted to wake Roma up, there isn’t a chance in the blazing Void I’d agree, not because it’d be a waste of Serek’s last act—though it would—but because I sure as the suns wouldn’t trust them not to try something with another legitimate Sira alive.

  Fuck that. I didn’t spend the last fourteen sets fighting for my life just to bring that asshole back to life and jeopardize everything all over again.

  “We’ll try Dima here,” I say. “I won’t punish all of Elja for his actions, but trying Dima here in Asheron will send the message that we aren’t going to just let go what he did, either.”

  “I agree,” Deimos says. “I think that’s the most effective way to move forward. Let Roma continue his punishment in silence, out of the view of the people. He’d hate that, if he were conscious enough to acknowledge it.”

  The rest of the Council nods. And just like that I guess I’ve made my first decisions as Sira.

  Even though it’s not the kinduv decision I wish I had to make, it kinduv feels good. I’m doing this.

  At least I’m not falling apart on my first set.

  “There’s one more thing.” I glance at Deimos, and he nods. I face the Council again. “The Remnant are fighting for human rights, and we may not agree on methods, but I want to fight for humans, too. I want to abolish slavery throughout all of the territories as soon as possible. The sooner the better.”

  Menos arches an eyebrow, but Rion is the first to speak. “You know, your father was speaking of doing the same before he was killed.”

  A lightness scatters over my skin. “I didn’t know that.”

  Rion smiles. “I suspect the two of you have a direction much more similar than you might think.”

  Before I can answer, the doors whoosh open across the room and four guards enter, dragging someone in—I can’t see who, though, because the Council members and the table are in the way. I’m pretty sure people aren’t supposed to just stroll into these meetings, but I’m not sure if guards have some kinduv clearance the rest of the staff doesn’t, which would make this okay.

  I glance at Deimos, trying to ask without asking. Deimos scowls and stands, so I guess the answer is no, this isn’t okay.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Deimos asks. “How dare you interrupt a Council meeting unsolicited?”

  “My deepest apologies,” says one of the guards. “We debated waiting until the meeting was
over, but el Sira must be notified immediately of this breach.”

  Breach? Breach of what? I stand and the two Council members across the table from me move aside so I can face the guards and their—

  Oh, fuck.

  “Hey there, nephew.” Shaw grins up at me from his kneeled position on the floor. “Or should I say King of the Stars-Damned Universe?”

  4

  Eros

  “Everyone out.”

  I can’t believe Shaw had the balls to just walk in here like nothing. I haven’t even been Sira for a full fucking set yet. The Remnant can’t possibly have expected me to have already started making moves for them, can they?

  The Council members bow and file out without hesitation, except for Deimos, who glances at Shaw, then glances at me with a furrowed brow. “Do you want me to …?”

  “Naï, you stay,” I say. I look at the guards. “You four can wait outside. He isn’t a danger to me.”

  The guards nod and follow the Council members out. The door hisses shut behind them.

  “What are you blazing doing here?” I ask. “Couldn’t wait for me to have a full set as Sira before walking in like you own the place?”

  Shaw snorts. “I was dragged over the mo I stepped through that security perimeter at the front of the complex. That’s hardly walking in like I own the place.” He stands and brushes sand off his legs. “Scraped my knees up pretty good, too.”

  “What do you want, Shaw?”

  “What? No, how are you, Uncle Shaw? No how’s mom been doing? Nothing?”

  I keep my face flat. “I’m not calling you my uncle, and you’re not here for small talk. Spit it out.”

  Shaw sighs dramatically and looks at Deimos. “Tough crowd, this kid, huh?”

  Deimos just stares at him with his decidedly unimpressed face; he doesn’t speak English, so I doubt he understood anyway.

  “Fine, fine.” Shaw stretches his arms over his head. “Obviously I’m here with a message, namely to remind you that you made us a promise. The Remnant expects you to advocate for—and establish—human rights and representation in the government. That means freeing enslaved people, throwing out this outdated monarchy for an equal system with humans in high places—you know what we want. If you break your promise, we’ll have to make good on our end of the deal, consequences, blah, blah, blah, you know how it goes. Should I be translating for your boyfriend?”