The Rising Gold

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The Rising Gold Page 19

by Ava Jae


  “I think they more meant reorganizing the government but … maybe.” I glance at Deimos. “We have ships?”

  “Well, shae.” Deimos lifts a shoulder. “We don’t use them all that much because we’re a rather … reclusive race, but the technology is there. My father used to tell me about the space program we had once. It was grounded and defunded because we weren’t really interested in interacting with other races, but—”

  “Hold on, hold on. Other races?”

  Deimos smirks. “Well you didn’t think it was just Sepharon and humans in the whole universe, did you?”

  If I were being honest, I’d say sha, mostly because I never really thought about it, but the way Deimos is looking at me kinduv makes me feel dense for ever thinking that. So I just turn to Mal instead. “You said the techies know about this?”

  “Well obviously,” Mal says like I actually am the densest person in the room, which maybe I am. “They’re the ones who told me.”

  “Are they still there?”

  Mal nods. “There’s always people there. The lab never sleeps.”

  “All right.” I stand and stretch my arms over my head, willing this brainblaze to go the fuck away. “Does Varo know you’re okay? He was worried about you earlier.”

  “Shae, he stayed with me when Zarana was checking on me.”

  Deimos nods. “Good. From now on, don’t go anywhere without Varo, shae? He’s our way of knowing you’re safe. And he’s there to protect you.”

  Mal grimaces and sits up, lightly wrapping his arms across his chest. “I know, I … I messed up.” He glances at me. “I just … wanted to hang out with someone like me, you know? Human. And my age.”

  I sigh. “I know. I wish I could give that to you but … you know.”

  Mal just nods.

  “Relatedly …” I tug on Aren’s bracelet around my wrist then force my hands flat on my lap. “Do you want to talk about what happened? Any of it? I know I … I know I lost it a bit back there.”

  Deimoes touches the small of my back, just a bit, to say he’s there. And it helps me breathe deep, steady, as Mal frowns. He’s quiet for a long time—so long I almost open my mouth to say forget it, he doesn’t have to talk about it—but then, finally, Mal says, “I thought you were going to beat him to death.”

  A chill rolls down my back. What happened back there—it’s exactly the kinduv thing that’s made it impossible for me to sleep. The nightmare where I kill Lejv, where I don’t hesitate—except this time it was reality, and it was Shaw, and I don’t—

  I don’t know. I don’t think anyone else would have stopped me, and if Mal hadn’t called out …

  I don’t regret beating the stars out of Shaw after what he did to Mal. But a part of me is glad Mal snapped me out of it because I don’t think I would have stopped if he hadn’t.

  “I think I might’ve if you hadn’t said anything.” I glance at Mal. He isn’t looking at me, but he doesn’t look—I mean, he doesn’t seem scared or disgusted or anything. “I’m glad you stopped me, though. Even if he probably deserves it.”

  Mal shrugs. “I don’t know that anyone actually deserves that. And if they do, I don’t know that it’s really our call to make.” He pauses and faces me. “I’m not, like, judging you or anything—I know you’ve had to make hard choices and everything. I just, I don’t know. I feel like people hurting each other doesn’t usually make anything better.”

  The thing is, I don’t disagree with him. But that doesn’t change that I’ve had to kill. And it doesn’t change that despite wanting to leave that violence behind, buried deeply in my past, I was ready to do it again. And maybe I don’t feel bad about how I reacted to Shaw after he hurt Mal, but maybe I wish Mal hadn’t seen that side of me ready to take someone else’s life. Because no one else did that. I did.

  “I’m sorry I reacted like that in front of you.”

  Mal shrugs. “You were just angry and scared. I get it. I’m not mad.” He stretches his arms over his head. “I’m kinduv done talking about it though, okay? Can we move on and talk to the techies about that old-as-fuck ship?”

  I ruffle his hair and try to force a smile. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  The “old as fuck” human ship is enormous.

  I knew, I guess, in theory that a space ship that carried people from one planet to another would have to be pretty damn big—I mean, people lived in there. But I guess it hadn’t really occurred to me that ships would be so big they couldn’t actually land on the planet.

  “So it’s just been floating out there?” I ask. “All this time? Hanging out in space outside of Safara?”

  “We’ve kept it with our other ships, sha.” Dara says. “As I’m sure you’re aware, our space program was pretty severely defunded several decades ago. It’s basically been cut down to just maintenance and weaponizing research to make sure we don’t fall behind, technologically, just in case we ever need to mobilize our ships in force.”

  I didn’t know until thirty or so mos ago, but she doesn’t need to know that. I just nod like I knew all along. “This is probably an obvious question, but how did the humans get on planet if the ships can’t actually land?”

  “Shuttles,” she says. “Same way we get to our ships to maintain and upgrade them. We still have the ones the humans used if you’d like to see them.”

  “Do they still work?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “They’re slow and clunky, but sha, they work. We can upgrade them relatively easily, as well.”

  “See?” Mal says. “No one has to be stuck here. People could leave if they want to. And I bet a lot will want to. The nomads aren’t the only ones who don’t really have a home here.”

  I frown. He has a point—maybe I should consider extending the shelters we’re setting up for freed enslaved people to others, too. How many people would the shelters be able to take?

  “Do you think it would work?” I look at Dara. “Sending humans back to Earth on that old Earth ship. Would it make the trip?”

  “We’ve maintained the ship and upgraded it over time—it was already pretty severely outdated when we first confiscated it. It’s been a sort of curiosity project for us, to see how we could integrate our technology with theirs. If you could call theirs technology—it was rather rudimentary.”

  “So, that’s a sha.”

  “That’s a sha. But first we need to eradicate this disease—last thing we need is an outbreak on a ship or introducing a deadly virus to another planet. And then we’d require funding for food and supplies. It’s a long trip to Earth—we’ve calculated and with our current technology it’d take four cycles at best. And even before that, you’d need to make contact with the Earthers. I can’t imagine a ship appearing out of the blue full of unannounced redbloods who grew up on another planet would be well-received. I have no idea what their relationship is like with the other races, but if they’re anywhere near as reclusive as we are, a ship just appearing in their orbit would likely be seen as a threat.”

  I hesitate. The thought of speaking to people on another planet—humans on another planet, who have never had to worry about integrating with Sepharon, who probably know very little about us because of the way the Sepharon have shut themselves away from everyone else.

  Honestly, this all feels artificial. Like I can’t completely swallow it because it’s not completely real. Like this is a bizarre dream.

  Although that’s probably the lack of sleep talking.

  “So, if we wanted to contact them … how would we do that?”

  Dara smiles. “Like I said, we still have the shuttles. And we’ve maintained those, as well, so the communications systems are all still intact. It might be a little difficult to establish contact again, but I’m sure I could get a team on it to figure it out, if you wanted.”

  Mal is grinning at me like this is the best thing that’s ever happened, and maybe it is good. Maybe this could be a solution for those who have nothing left. For those who are tired of f
ighting to live, tired of fighting to be equal.

  We know nothing about Earth. For all I know, it could be just as bad there as it is here. But Mal might be on to something. This could be worth looking into, even if just a vague possibility.

  “Go ahead and get a team on restoring communications with the Earth humans,” I say. “And let me know as soon as it’s working. I want to be the first to talk to them.”

  While apparently, if I wanted to, I could just feed myself explaining whatever new laws I wanted to establish and that would be the end of it, Deimos and I agree that talking over all this new information with the Council would be the best first move. Especially since everything is still rolling around sluggishly in my head and it’s getting harder by the mo to process it all.

  It doesn’t take long for the Eight to arrive. They each bow to me as they enter then sit at their appropriate places at the table. Tol is the last to arrive, which makes sense since they’re coming from the lab decently far from the palace, like we just did.

  “Thank you all for joining us so early,” Deimos says with a casual smile. “It’s been quite the set already and the suns have barely risen.”

  “Thank you for calling the meeting,” Tol says. “I was about to contact you both anyway to let you know the techies have tracked down the source of the feed hack and are in the process of coding new defenses to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Wonderful,” Deimos says, and I nod.

  “As you probably guessed, the feed hack and arresting Shaw are a big part of the reason we’re here right now.”

  “But not the only reasons?” Kenna says with an arched eyebrow.

  “Uh, not the only reason, naï,” I answer.

  “How is Kosim?” Rion asks. “And how are you? We heard about the attack and that Kosim fell ill.”

  I grimace. “My shoulder will scar but I’m fine. Kosim … I don’t know. Zarana is doing everything she can to try to save him.”

  All eight Council members lower their heads. I think it’s their way of showing condolences or something.

  “Any news of a cure?” Kenna asks.

  “Humans don’t seem affected, so Zarana took a blood sample from me, but that’s all I know so far. I’ll make sure the eight of you are kept updated.”

  Kenna nods.

  “I imagine you’ve seen the news about Dima’s sentencing and subsequent escape,” Rion says.

  It takes me a mo for those words to sink in. The sentencing I’d heard about briefly, but … “Dima escaped?”

  “Unfortunately.” Rion purses his lips. “He and his boyfriend ran sometime last night and haven’t yet been found. I imagine they’re both halfway out of Elja by now. Kala knows where they plan to run to.”

  I scowl. Really? I just blazing talked to Kora and she didn’t say a fucken thing to me. I can’t imagine she’s torn up by the escaping news after being so adamant that Dima be tried in Elja to give him chance or whatever. As if he deserved an ounce of mercy. As if he didn’t kill innocents.

  Stars, I wouldn’t be surprised if she helped him escape.

  “Great,” I mutter. “I didn’t know that, but I can’t imagine there’s much we can do about it now.”

  “Elja should be punished for their transgression. The refusal to hand over Dima was bad enough, but to botch the process like this makes a mockery of the system, and by extension, a mockery of you, the Sira, who demanded a free and quick trial.”

  The brainblaze pushes harder against the backs of my eyes. I can’t focus on Dima, not now. There’s too much to think about. Too much that needs some kinduv action or attention, but I can’t do it all. I have to focus on one thing at a time, and right now that thing has to be answering the Remnant.

  “I’m going to be honest with you,” I say. “I can’t prioritize punishing Elja right now. We need to talk about the Remnant’s threat last night, and Shaw’s arrest, and what we’re going to do when they inevitably contact us again. And I do have some ideas.” The Council members nod and no one protests the whole skipping-over-Dima thing, so I plow ahead and tell them about the ship, and Mal’s idea, emphasizing the part where it’s optional for humans to leave. “But it’s an option I think a lot will be open to,” I finish. “Especially given everything they’ve suffered here for generations. And if I present it right, I might be able to play it off as a … reorganization, like the Remnant wants, without caving to exactly what they’re demanding.”

  Tol smiles. “That’s brilliant. I think the people will really respond to that.”

  Kenna looks a little less enthusiastic, but she nods nevertheless. “You’ll definitely want to be careful with how you word it—you don’t want to give the impression that humans should leave, which is a message you risk sending not only to the humans and Remnant, but to the Sepharon as well who might take it as an excuse to be even more hostile to humans.”

  My heart sinks a little at that. I hadn’t thought of that—which is ridiculous because I should have thought of that. It’s so obvious. Of course assholes will take it as a way to harass humans even more. Bigots will want humans to leave.

  But if we have the option to give humans a chance to live somewhere the Sepharon won’t follow, wouldn’t it be wrong not to present the possibility just because some people might be assholes about it?

  “That’s a good point,” I say. “I don’t think that should stop us from looking into the possibility of getting humans who want to leave out of here, though.”

  “It shouldn’t, I agree,” Kenna says. “But I do want to caution you to think carefully about the way you present it.”

  “How do you know the Earthers will take them back?” Rion asks. “You don’t want to go through the trouble of sending them there just to have them turned away.”

  “I’ve already talked to the techies about that. They’re in the process of setting up a communications channel so I can talk to … someone there.”

  Rion nods. “And if they say naï?”

  “Then I won’t say anything to the people here, I guess. I’m going to talk to the Earthers first before I make any announcement.”

  “Good. And when will this conversation happen?”

  I open my mouth to answer but Tol beats me to it. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re dealing with another hack this time in the personal communication interface.” They glance at me with tight lips and a lifted shoulder. “It sounds like you were expecting this given Shaw’s arrest, and you were right. The Remnant want to speak to you, el Sira.”

  Unlike every other time so far, this hack isn’t broadcasted on every feed—probably because Rani doesn’t want to admit to the world that they blazed things up and now I have their guy.

  So even though it’s probably bad for diplomacy or whatever, I’m smirking a bit when the techies feed her through to the glass in the Council room.

  “You’re a smug little shit, aren’t you?” Rani’s glare is so sharp her face looks carved. “You think we won’t get Shaw back?”

  “Good morning, Rani,” I answer calmly. “So nice to see your face twice in under twelve segments.”

  “I swear to the stars, Eros, if you hurt Shaw—”

  “Oh, we’re way beyond that.” I laugh. “I beat the sand out of him when I found him. You know why?” I stand and step closer to the glass recording me back to her. “Because he and his friends abducted and beat my thirteen-cycle-old nephew. So do us both a favor and skip the self-righteous shit about how I’ve gone too far, taking your man, when you’ve been fucken terrorizing my people and attacking my family. You started this war, Rani, but I’m not afraid to finish it.”

  “Terrorizing your people.” She laughs—a hollow sound. “You think what we’ve done so far is bad? I swear to the suns, and the stars, and every grain of sand on this stars-forsaken planet, if you don’t release Shaw immediately, I will burn Asheron to the ground if that’s what it takes to get him.”

  “You think I’m thick?” I shoot back. “I’m not going to
just free him without you giving us something in return. That’s not how a fucken negotiation works.”

  “Oh, you think this is a negotiation? That’s cute. Borderline adorable, even.”

  “You seem to be forgetting I have your man.”

  “No, Eros.” She leans forward, her gaze drilling holes into the glass. “You seem to be forgetting I have the means to destroy you. You can’t hold Shaw, not for long, and you know it.”

  “Weird. Almost like you think I’m too thick to realize if you really could get Shaw so easily you wouldn’t ask—you’d just take him, consequences be damned.”

  Rani sits back. Laces her fingers together. “Asking was a courtesy. But you know what? You’re right. I’m not feeling so courteous anymore.”

  And that’s it. The feed blacks out.

  And I may have just really fucked this up.

  30

  Eros

  I’ve barely had time to process the enormity of what just happened with Rani when Tol says they’re sorry about the timing, but the techies have set up contact with the head of an Earther organization called Inter-Nassa. And apparently, they’re eager to talk.

  Which is great because I’m definitely not in the right state of mind to talk to Earthers for the first time about a really fucken important issue that could change thousands of human lives forever, but you know, sure, whatever, let’s do it right now, why not? Can’t possibly go any worse than what went down with Rani.

  The human Earther representative they’ve chosen is a guy who reminds me of Gray. They have the same sharp, dark eyes and shadow-black stick-straight hair. Main difference is this guy is at least four shades paler than Gray and obviously their faces are different, but the resemblance to someone so far away, someone who’s never stepped foot on Safara …

  I mean, it makes sense since humans are all the same species, but it’s still weirdly unsettling.

  The rep’s face is blown up on a glass the size of half the enormous wall in the lab. I’m not sure I really like this set-up—I’m sitting with a guide hovering in front of me while he looks like a giant peering at me through the fucken sky. It makes me feel small. At least with a regular glass-to-glass communication, the glass just kinduv floats in front of me like looking through a small window but this … well. He can’t know what my set-up looks like, so I play it calm. Like I talk to humans from another planet all the blazing time. Like I’ve been ruler of the fucken world forever and I don’t still feel like a kid playing pretend.

 

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