by Ava Jae
I start our totally normal, everyday conversation with, “Do you speak English?”
The guy arches an eyebrow and his eyes widen—then he laughs. I’m not sure what was funny about asking if he speaks English. I glance at Deimos, standing beside me out of the guide’s view. Deimos obviously doesn’t speak English—no one in this room does except for me—but he lifts a shoulder at the guy’s laughter with an expression like who knows?
“Yes, I’m sorry,” the man says, drawing my attention back to him. “I didn’t mean to laugh—I just—we just spent a good forty minutes trying to figure out which translation software would be best and seeing if we had any information on the Sepharon language—which, turns out we don’t—and there you are, speaking English.”
His English is weird. Fast, and kinduv hard to parse with the way his words come out all chopped up like a knife rapidly hitting a cutting board. But though it takes me an extra half-mo to process, and I’m not really sure how long a minute is, we do understand each other, which is a good start.
“Let me start over and introduce myself,” the guys says. “My name is Koji Issen. I’m head of communications at the Earth branch of the Interplanetary Alliance. You’ve probably heard of us.”
I hadn’t heard of them, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Sure. I’m Eros …” Do I introduce myself the Sepharon way? The human way? He used a first and last name like the Kits. Would it be better to show him I’m somewhat like him? Does he know I’m part human? “Eros Kit d’Elja,” I finally say, combining the two. It feels the most fitting, seeing how I am both. “I’m Sira.” I pause. He probably doesn’t know what that means—after all, it’s not like the Sepharon share information with people off-planet. “Uh … world monarch, I guess.”
“World monarch you guess, huh?” He grins, and I kinduv get the sense he might be making fun of me. “Well, that’s a pretty impressive title, ruler of the world. I feel more important just talking to you.”
I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say to that, but I guess we should just move on. “Right, so, I’m sure you’re aware we have a lot of humans here on Safara.”
“We weren’t aware of that, actually,” Koji says. “We never really knew what happened to the OC that went over there forever ago. It was considered a failed mission and we assumed everyone was dead.”
“OC?”
“Sorry—original crew. The group of humans that tried to settle there back in 2150.”
I nod. “The way I understand it, many were killed but there were a lot of survivors. And now generations later, they live all over Safara. I’m not sure exactly how many there are, but it’s got to be more than the … the OC.”
“Makes sense.” Koji crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat. “So tell me, Eros, Ruler of the Free World: why are you contacting us out of the blue five hundred years later? You guys made it pretty damn clear we weren’t to contact your people ever again if we wanted to stay at peace.”
“Things haven’t been great for humans here,” I say. “There’s a lot of discrimination and persecution just for being human. But it was recently brought to my attention we have the ship that brought the humans here to begin with, and we’ve got other ships, too, and I think some humans would be open to the idea of going back.”
Koji tilts his head slightly. “Going back?”
“To Earth. Where they’ll never be attacked for being human again.”
Koji’s face softens as he glances at someone out of the frame. He nods and looks back at me. “That’s a real interesting proposal, and if you’re serious, I can definitely bring it to my higher-ups who’ll talk it over with others and seriously consider it. But I think you should know coming here won’t mean they won’t ever face discrimination again. We’ve got a host of our own problems here on good ol’ Earth.”
I frown. “I thought Earth was all humans.”
“We are—well, mostly, there are some other friendly species here, too, but for the most part, yeah. But everyone being human doesn’t stop prejudice and discrimination. Humans will always find reasons to hold some higher than others—I imagine, in the case of your sending humans over, they’d face a new kind of anger from people who won’t consider them really human because they were born over on Safara instead of Earth. We’ve already got that kind of nastiness from ship-born and base-born people. So they won’t be discriminated for being human, per say, but there will always be something.” He shrugs. “I just don’t want to give you the impression everything will be perfect here. We’re no paradise, either.”
I nod slowly. “I guess that makes sense. But do you think it’d be possible to send some humans over there?”
“Maybe.” Koji pauses and looks away from the camera again before he nods and addresses me. “Let me talk to my people and we’ll get back to you. This isn’t going to be a slam-bam process, but I’ll get the ball rolling and see where it goes, feel?”
I frown. “Feel what?”
Koji is laughing again when the camera blinks off. And I guess … that was that.
We talked to some Earth humans. One Earth human. And I represented Sepharon and humans here on Safara and I think it actually went somewhat okay.
I take a deep breath and smile. I did it.
And now we wait.
The next couple sets are a lot of back and forth. I tell Koji on our second chat that we have a deadline—though I don’t tell him the deadline is because the Remnant is getting ready to unleash sunsfire on us for not moving fast enough, and also for taking Shaw. I consider making the freedom announcement separately just to placate them, but I don’t want to do two major announcements like that back to back. Better to blend them into one announcement to help buffer the reaction.
Plus as long as we have Shaw, I’m pretty sure nothing short of letting him go will satisfy Rani. So we wait.
On the third set, the set we have to get back to the Remnant before they fuck everything up even worse, assuming Rani hasn’t changed her mind about that whole timeline anyway, I’ve all but given up on Koji getting back to us to us on time when I get another call to come back to the lab for another meeting.
“This better be it,” I mutter to Deimos as they set up the guide. “We can’t keep waiting along for them to make up their damn minds like this.”
“Kala willing, this will be it,” Deimos answers.
I don’t mention I doubt Kala gives a fucken blink whether the Earthers cooperate with us, assuming there is a Kala at all. Deimos steps aside and the guide whirls in the air, stabilizes, beeps twice, then a green ring lights up around the lens. I’m live.
“Eros!” Koji smiles at me from the giant screen he’s projected on. “Good to see you. Thanks for your patience, I know time is of the essence over there. I can just imagine what a delicate situation it must be, with humans waiting to hear whether or not they can return home.”
I never specifically said the humans knew of this potential plan—that’s just an assumption I guess he’s making. But he doesn’t need to know it isn’t true.
“Do you have an answer for me?” My voice comes out calm. In control.
“I do, yes. We’ve spoken to several leaders from all around the world, and our leading countries are each willing to take a limited number of Safaran refugees. Canada, Germany, and France are willing to take up to 2,000 refugees each. The United Kingdom, Australia, and the Philippines are willing to take 1,000 refugees each. China, India, Japan, Mexico, Egypt, and the United States are willing to take 500 each—which altogether brings us to 12,000 refugees total. How does that sound?”
Twelve thousand spots spread out over twelve territories. I honestly don’t know if that’s going to be more than we need or less—I haven’t a clue how to begin estimating who is going to want to go and who is going to want to stay.
“If all goes well, we may be able to arrange for more to come in the future,” Koji says. “I can’t make any promises, obviously, but it’s a start, don’t you
think?”
“Sure,” I finally say. “It’s a start.”
“Good, good.” Koji smiles. “So when do you think they’ll arrive?”
I glance at Deimos and murmur the question in Sephari. He widens his eyes and lifts his shoulders as his lips tighten. He has no idea and neither do I, so I turn back to the glass. “I’ll get back to you with an estimate. Thanks for your cooperation. I’m sure a lot of people are going to be happy to hear about it.”
“I’m glad I could help negotiate,” Koji says. “Now what do you plan to give us in return?”
I blink. Narrow my eyes. “Descendants of Earthers and your ship.”
Koji laughs, then I guess he realizes I’m not joking because he abruptly stops laughing and his smile drops. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, you’re serious. I didn’t realize.” I don’t smile. Koji shifts in his seat and runs a hand through his hair. “I see. Well, surely you must realize we’re doing you a pretty huge solid by taking these people. It’s not a simple thing to coordinate resettling refugees all around the globe. It’s only reasonable, I think, to expect some sort of tradeoff in return.”
I’m not sure what he means by “doing me a solid”—a solid what?—but I let that slide. “I’ve opened up communications for the first time since your people came here,” I say. “I’m sending back your ship and you’ll get thousands of descendants of your … OC. I’m not sure what more you’re expecting.”
“Not expecting, but it would be nice to offer some sort of recompense for our cooperation.”
Of course they want something. People always want something. I force myself not to scowl, but I can’t imagine I’m hiding my irritation that well, especially given the way his smile takes a pained twist, like he knows he’s walking a very thin wire. “Get it over with,” I say. “What do you want?”
Koji’s smile shifts into something smooth. It kinduv reminds me of Deimos’s smile when he’s putting on his look how charming I am thing that you’d think would lose its effect over time but definitely doesn’t. It might have even worked with Koji if I wasn’t so done with this conversation. “We’d like to set up an Alliance embassy on Safara. Or if that’s too much to ask, one stationed just outside the planet. For us to further our diplomatic relations.”
“No.” I don’t even have to consult with Deimos and the rest of the Council on that one. There’s not a chance in the Void bringing more humans here will go well with everyone. And definitely not a whole building dedicated to humans—at least, not right now. “I don’t know what our relations will be like in five to ten cycles,” I say. “Maybe that’s something we could talk about in the future. But right now there’s no way that’s going to happen.” Koji frowns, but I press forward. “Look, opening up communications like this isn’t a small thing. I can agree to keep the lines of communication open—both to you and to … to your alliance. It’s a big step forward for Safara after we’ve cut ourselves off for so long, and it’s all I can promise you right now.”
Koji hesitates, then nods. “If you can promise to consider an embassy in the future—let’s say we revisit the topic in seven years—then I think we can accept that.”
“Fine. We’ll talk about it again in seven years. But I’m not promising you a yes then, either.”
“That’s fine.” Koji smiles. “So you let us know when you’ll have the humans over here, okay? We’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
“I will.”
And with that, I’ve actually done it. I’ve negotiated a place for 12,000 humans on Earth. I was too afraid to hope but this—this might actually work. This could be a really good thing. And it’s all thanks to Mal.
The guide turns off and I stand, letting a smile slip over my lips as I turn to Deimos.
“You’re doing so great.” He grins. “You were perfect talking to him, you know that? Completely regal and professional—I fully believed you were an experienced leader and I’m sure it’s what he believes as well. Really well done, Eros. You’re adjusting well to your new role.”
I smile. “Thanks to you.”
“Sha, I suppose I did have something to do with that.” He nudges my side with a smirk and I laugh.
“El Sira.” Lijdo steps forward with that frown I’m pretty sure is permanently embedded to his face. My heart sinks at the address. So far the only times my guards have ever made a point to address me was to give me bad news, and somehow I don’t think this is going to be any different.
Can’t even enjoy a victory for five fucken mos.
“Sha,” I say with a sigh. “What’s wrong?”
He almost looks apologetic as he speaks. “I’m sure you’ll see this on a glass momentarily, but I’ve just been informed there’s been a joint announcement from Inara, Kel’al, Invino, and Sekka’l.”
He hasn’t even said what this joint announcement is, but if Sekka’l is involved, I can’t imagine it’s going to be anything good. And I have a sinking feeling I know what it is.
Lijdo grimaces. “I’m afraid they’ve announced they’re going to secede.”
Sometimes I hate being right.
31
Kora
For four sets, Uljen barely talks to me—and when he does, it’s official business only. Updates on the search for Dima and Jarek, or the planning stages for an infrastructure project to clean up the city, or our depleting stores of food as we become increasingly dependent on Daïvi, Ona, and Kel’al to send us food.
I’ve done something irreversible in aiding Dima and Jarek’s escape—and lying to Uljen about it even when I knew it was pointless to deny I’d been involved. But admitting the truth to him would be trusting him with something that could ruin me.
I can’t trust anyone with that. I can’t give someone a weapon to destroy me with. Because even if I want to believe they wouldn’t use it, even if I want to believe my closest allies would never betray me—how can I?
My own twin brother tried to kill me. My father tried to sabotage me. If I couldn’t trust my own family, how could I possibly begin to trust a man I’ve known for less than a term? A man who introduced himself by threatening my reign, by proposing he be Avra in my stead, by calming an almost irrevocably angered people just to show me he could.
Uljen is here for the people, but I know what power does to people. I know what it did to me, to my brother, to my father.
With Dima and Jarek gone and Uljen not speaking to me, the morning meals are painfully quiet. It’s been four sets but I still glance at the places where my brother and his boyfriend used to sit. Where they will never sit again. And yet, I keep expecting to see them there when I look across the table, stealing secret smiles and sharing quiet laughs over jokes only they know.
Instead, Uljen sits still as a stone beside me as Lira loads up her plate with food across from me. “I swear, the food is better every set—and it was already amazing to start with.”
I force a smile. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Don’t you? Actually, you’re probably used to the food since you’ve always had it. Uljen, then, don’t you agree?”
Uljen looks up quickly, as if startled someone is speaking to him. He was reading something on his glass, though it’s on his other side so I can’t see what he was looking at. I suppose I should probably be catching up on the morning news, as well, assuming that’s what he’s doing.
“Ah … sha, the food is good.” He turns to me. “Have you read the reports this morning yet?”
I glance at him. “You mean from the Council and new head of the guard? Naï, not yet.”
“You should.”
I pause. “Okay. Or you could tell me what it is that you think is so important I know. That’s also an option.”
He purses his lips and, for a moment, I think he might just turn back to his glass and continue ignoring me, as he’s been doing as much as possible for the last four sets, but instead he nods—albeit clearly reluctantly. “They’re saying Eljans want to join the secession with Inara, Kel’al, Invino,
and Sekka’l.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “The people want—what?”
“I’m not entirely surprised,” Uljen says. “You know the Eljans are overall a rather conservative people, and having a half-blood as a Sira, well …”
“We’re not seceding.”
“I didn’t think we were. But you’ll need to talk to the people and justify staying if you don’t want them to feel ignored.”
I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. Of course the people want to secede. Uljen’s right, this shouldn’t surprise me—Eljans are traditional and upheld the anti-half-blood laws stringently for generations. They still do. And as much as I hate to admit it, it wasn’t so long ago that I agreed with them. So of course they want to leave now that we’ve actually had some progress in Eros taking the throne.
“Well,” Lira says lightly. “At least it’ll distract from the whole Dima situation.”
Uljen grimaces and shakes his head. He doesn’t speak to me again for the rest of the meal.
The silence is a thick, heavy thing by the time we return back to my rooms to strategize what to say to the people about this secession nonsense. I suspect even Lira can feel it—she fidgets with the hem of her skirts, with her hair, and passes me uneasy smiles every couple breaths.
As soon as the doors close behind us, I turn to Uljen. “Just get it over with.”
Uljen arches an eyebrow. “Get what over with?”
“You’ve been holding back for sets. I’m not a child, I know you want to say something, so say it.”