by Ava Jae
20 Jol, 800
1:43
Enno, Havan, Mir, Jura
We arrived in Asheron at 16:00, on 19 Jol, as expected. But as soon as we crossed within a quarter league of the city, our transport, communications, glasses, and so on all ceased functioning. For the first segment we tried everything to fix our technology, and it wasn’t until Jura wandered back some ways that his glass began working again. Once he came over to tell us, however, it stopped working again.
We investigated within the city together—though naturally it took us much longer to actually get within the city, as we had to walk. It appears no technology whatsoever is working in the city. The guards at the quarantined city’s entrance told us they had no explanation for what had happened. We couldn’t take any pictures (as our tech wasn’t working), but there were ports and orb guides abandoned on the streets, and many of the stores were closed—though whether that’s because of the loss of technology or the disease quarantine is hard to say.
After decontaminating manually at the quarantine center, we left on foot. We ended up having to push the port through the sand for a good quarter league before we could get it working again, which delayed us quite a bit. We arrived back in Vejla at 1:00 on 20 Jol, exhausted, but unharmed.
“It’s concerning.” I frown. “No technology whatsoever working within the city limits explains the sudden silence, but I haven’t the faintest idea what can cause that.”
“Me neither, but it seems unlikely it’d be accidental. Especially as it’s so localized and continues to affect new tech introduced to the area.”
“Hmm … you’re probably right. Do you think the Remnant is behind this, then?”
“Maybe.” Uljen turns off the glass and sets it on the bedside table. “Either way, it’s not really for us to handle.”
I’d like to argue against it not being for us to handle—because while what happens in Asheron isn’t our responsibility, it does affect us, particularly when the Remnant are probably hiding in Elja. But I let it go for now.
Not long after, when I’ve emerged from the wash room, freshly bathed, Uljen is dressed and frowning at his glass. “Did you see this update on your brother?”
My stomach swoops. Dima? Oh no. Has he been found? Were they arrested? Are they back here already? Oh, Kala, I can’t stomach the thought of watching him die.
“Naï, I haven’t,” I say as carefully and evenly as I can muster. “What is it?”
“Dima and Jarek have received asylum in Invino. We just got the contact from Avra Arik d’Invino.”
It takes every ounce of self-control not to say thank Kala aloud. Dima and Jarek are in Invino. Invino doesn’t believe in the death penalty—they’ve never had it once in their history. Which means, as far as I’m concerned, they couldn’t be in a better territory.
“I see.”
Uljen smirks. “Try to contain your enthusiasm.”
“I thought I was containing it quite well.”
Uljen sighs and shakes his head. “You’ll have to at least attempt to look strict and demand Invino return Dima and Jarek to Elja. If the people think you approve of Dima trying to get around his sentence—”
“I know,” I say. “I know. I have to act angry about this, particularly if Invino refuses.”
“Which they may or may not. It really could go either way.”
I take a shaky breath and nod. Right now, I can only hope Invino will refuse to return them out of their distaste for the death penalty—because then, and only then, they’ll be safe. But if I play my part too well and they agree, it’ll be the end of my brother. And probably the end of Jarek, too.
I know little about Avra Arik d’Invino, but what I do know is he isn’t easily maneuvered. After all, Arik went through possibly the most any ruler has gone through besides Eros to take his place on the throne; he only became Avra after his elder brother killed his father, other brother, and attempted to kill Arik in an attempt to take the throne that led to his own disqualification and exile from Invino.
But even then, they didn’t execute him. Though there are rumors the brother killed himself after his failed coup.
Still, I can’t say I’ve ever had a conversation with Arik, so I’m not entirely sure what to expect as the technical aides set up the guides for me to speak to him—particularly as I publicly support Eros, and Arik has threatened secession. But a part of me hopes he’ll be just as impossible to move on this matter as I’d like to imagine he might be. After all, if he didn’t order the execution of his brother after he murdered his family and attempted to kill him …
Well. It’s clear where he stands.
“Avra Kora, what a pleasure it is to speak with you.” Arik’s voice is warm, but his face is stony on the large glass floating against the wall, which is an odd combination.
“Likewise,” I say. “I’m sure you’re aware why I’ve asked for this meeting.”
“I have a decently good idea, sha.”
I nod. “While I’m glad to hear you’ve found my brother and Jarek, I’m afraid I must insist you return them to Elja. Dima was tried for very serious crimes and has run from his sentence.”
“Sha, a sentence of execution, if I’m not mistaken. Is that correct?”
My stomach twists at the reminder, but I keep my face even. “It is, sha. He was tried before the Eight and that was the sentence they determined was most appropriate, given the severity of his crimes.”
“I see.” Arik’s voice is flat, distant. It’s near impossible to read the man at all—his expression is as still as stone.
I suppose my guess he’d be impossible to move may not be far from reality, after all.
“I imagine you are well aware of Invino’s stance on execution,” Arik says.
I nod. “I am, sha, but this is an Eljan matter, and thus Dima’s sentence is up to Elja’s court, not Invino’s.”
“Hmm.”
That’s it. That’s all he says. Hmm.
I shift in my seat. I have to push. I have to appear as though this isn’t just what I want, but this is what I’m demanding. I have to act the way I would if they were any other criminals, not my brother and his boyfriend. “So when can I expect Invino will return Dima and Jarek to Elja? I imagine it shouldn’t take more than a set.”
Arik shakes his head. “We won’t be returning them to Elja. As Dima and Jarek are running from a sentence Invino considers barbaric, they are refugees here in Invino.”
The news is exactly what I was hoping for, but I still have to play the part. I still have to act outraged. I scowl and raise my voice. “Refugees? With all due respect, they’re far from—”
“I do understand Dima is a criminal, and I understand the severity of his crimes, as well,” Arik says. “Therefore, as a compromise, I’d like to offer Dima carry out the equivalent sentence for such serious infractions—imprisonment for five cycles and rehabilitation through community service for life after that. He will serve his sentence in prison where he will reflect on his wrongs, then spend the rest of his life serving the community and humbling himself.”
I can breathe deeply. Dima isn’t going to die—and he isn’t going to run from his crimes, either. The sentence is fair; he’ll still be imprisoned, and he’ll spend the rest of his life atoning for what he did. But he’ll live.
It’s exactly what I wanted—better than I dared to hope for. But if I agree too quickly, I risk angering the people and appearing weak. I need to convince them this is a fair compromise.
And better—we must get something in return for compromising.
I drum my fingers on my desk. “If we were to agree, then we must receive something in return. My people very firmly believe Dima’s sentencing was just. I can’t agree to these terms without any sort of recompense.”
Arik’s eyes narrow. “Recompense … such as what?”
I smile. “You’ll vow to keep Invino as part of the Union of Territories and swear off any possibility of secession in the future.”
Arik frowns. “That’s no small thing you ask of us.”
“What you ask of Elja, in refusing to return Dima and Jarek, is no small thing either.”
For a long pause, neither of us speaks as Arik mulls over my terms. I force myself not to appear uncomfortable in the waiting, meeting Arik’s gaze as he watches me.
Finally, he sighs and says, “I accept your terms. I’ll make the public announcement regarding our decision not to secede before the end of the set.”
Something like lightness dances over my stomach, but I keep my face passive and nod. “And I will speak to my people before the suns rest as well.”
“So it is done.” Arik nods and the feed dies.
I glance at Uljen, standing against the nearby wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, I must admit that was fairly brilliant. You got what you wanted and secured a victory for Eros,” he says. “Well performed outrage, by the way. I almost believed you.”
I sigh and run my hand through my hair. “I got what I wanted, but I have no idea how to present this to the people in a way that won’t enrage them. We both know the Eljans won’t care about Invino agreeing not to secede. I can’t have them think I’m allowing Arik to overrule my authority or Dima to get away with what he did.”
Uljen lifts a shoulder. “They’re likely going to think that regardless of how you present it. After all, it’s exactly what you’re doing—you just don’t want to see it because you’re biased toward your brother.”
“He’ll still serve a punishment—for the rest of his life, no less. I wouldn’t call that getting away with what he did.”
But Uljen pushes off the wall and shakes his head. “You know full well it’s not the Eljan way. The people will know it as well. If you protect him, they won’t forget it.”
46
Eros
It’s been a set.
Ven left this morning, after Deimos and I got back from our morning run, saying they were thankful I heard them out but they should go back home. I’m not sure if it’s their discomfort with being in the palace or the lack of power or the whole quarantine situation that makes them want to leave, but I can’t exactly blame them for not wanting to hang around. Things are a fucken mess here.
After saying bye to Ven and getting food, Deimos and I checked in with Kosim to see how he’s doing. He’s hung on there way longer than most—twenty-two sets so far, which is a relief—but his eyes are dark and he paces incessantly. Zarana says she’s doing all she can to try to keep his fever down.
She doesn’t know how long he has before he loses himself entirely if it turns out he can’t fight it. But she promises as soon as they get power back, Kosim will be one of the first to get the trial cure they have nearly ready.
After that depressing meeting, we find Kantos to get the status on the whole searching the city thing. We didn’t really receive any new information we couldn’t have read on the map outside my room, though—it’s slow going, and there’s still a ton of the city left to search. Though he did say they were closing in on some possible leads, but not to get our hopes up since most of those end up being false alarms and dead ends.
Which leaves me with nothing much to do because we’re cut off from the rest of the world. I can’t check the feed, or expect any progress from the techies or medics, or monitor any damn thing because nothing works.
Stars, we’re useless without tech.
“Take a walk with me.” Deimos slips his hand in mine and smiles. Something in my chest squeezes a little at that smile, that easy happiness.
“Sure. Is Mal going to hang out with the techies again?”
“Shae.” Deimos laughs a little. “I don’t know why he likes it so much down there. It makes me feel buried.”
“Oh, good, it’s not just me.”
“It’s not just you. But if it keeps him entertained …” Deimos shrugs.
“What are they even doing down there without tech?”
“Kala knows. Playing games? Sleeping?” He smirks. “If we’re being honest, probably preparing something or another for when we get tech back.”
Lejdo and Fejn follow us out of the shade of the palace and under the twin suns. I’m finally used to the otherness of the sand here, and while I still don’t love how gritty and not-soft it is, I have to admit the coolness is nice in the powerful heat. We all get filter masks at the edge of the palace complex and they give us immune boosters—again—but I guess I won’t complain since Kala knows I really don’t want to get sick. Or see Deimos sick—or Lejdo and Fejn, for that matter. Kosim in quarantine is bad enough as it is.
By the time we get into the actual city, I’m already kinduv sweaty and sticky. But so is Deimos, although he somehow manages to look regal even as sweat drips off the end of his nose.
“So,” I say. “Where are we going?”
Deimos lifts a shoulder. “Nowhere in particular. I just thought it’d be good to get out of the complex for a bit. You were clearly in danger of losing your composure to boredom in there.”
I laugh a little. “It’s a little embarrassing how useless we are without tech. Almost reminds me of camp—except we got around fine low-tech.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re useless—you’re still overseeing plenty at the palace. The conversation with Kantos this morning was important.”
“I know, but even then, everyone is already doing what they need to be, so not like they really … need me checking on them.”
“They don’t need you checking on them, but it’s good that you do. It shows you’re invested and you care about the work they’re doing. So it’s still important.” Deimos smiles. “Ruling isn’t always making impossible decisions and trying to take down destructive rebellious initiatives. Sometimes it’s telling the people who work for you that they’re doing a good job and taking a stroll with your boyfriend in the city.”
The smile that bursts on my face is instant. It feels ridiculously good hearing him say that word: boyfriend. My boyfriend. I lightly squeeze his hand and he grins at me—the filter covers his mouth, but his smile goes all the way up to his eyes. “You look absolutely adorable right now. Filter mask and all.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
Deimos laughs. “My apologies. I won’t ruin it. Though I’ll have to figure out other ways to get you to grin like that because I love that joy in your eyes.”
Out of everything that’s happened over the last few terms, this is the part I would’ve found most unbelievable a year ago. That I’d ever have this—with anyone at all, but especially with a guy, and a Sepharon guy, no less.
I’d stopped believing anyone would ever love me like that a long time ago. But Deimos is scrubbing away that disbelief a little more every day.
It takes some effort, but I’ve finally started believing this is real. I’ve started believing I’m not going to wake up one morning and find out it was all some dream. Deimos isn’t going anywhere, and neither am I.
Asheron is quieter without tech and emptier with the quarantine, but when we pass the occasional person, we nod at them—since they can’t exactly see us smile through the filter masks. It’s a little eerie though—there are abandoned ports all over the streets, which combined with the sparseness of people kinduv makes it look like Asheron is abandoned. There isn’t music, or food cooking on street stands, or vendors selling their wares. I’m not sure how long the city can survive like this, but we’ll probably need to start considering some sortuv food distribution system if people can’t get back to work soon. I’ll have to talk to the Council about it when we get back.
We probably look serious as the Void with our security detail and face masks, but then Deimos swings our clasped hands a little between us, and suddenly it’s like we’re two snickering kids having a fun day in the city.
Which, honestly, isn’t that far from the truth.
“What’s your favorite spot in the city?” I ask Deimos.
He doesn’t miss a mo. “Wherever you are.” My face warms and I
nudge him with my elbow even as the smile pricks my lips again. “What, too much?” Deimos laughs. “It’s the truth, though.”
“Well … that doesn’t really answer my question, but thanks.”
“Mmhmm. If you must know, without bringing you into the equation, there’s a restaurant on the riverside that has the most incredible everything I’ve ever had.”
I smirk. “Incredible everything, huh?”
“There isn’t a single item on that menu that isn’t orgasmic.” I groan and Deimos laughs. “It’s true, though! Well, not literally true, that would be strange and unsanitary, but the food is truly incredible. I’ll take you there sometime when we have the tech back.”
“It’s a date, then.”
“It will be, shae.” Deimos’s eyes light up. “Ej, do you think—”
A roar swallows his words a breath before something slams into my back, smashing me into him. The air becomes sand, the darkness rises up, and I fall, and fall, and—
47
Kora
My bones rattle in my chest as I prepare to face the people and tell them Dima and Jarek’s escape to Invino is for the best. Or at least, not retaliating is. As I toe the line between appearing impartial and the truth.
What if they see through me? It’s no secret that I wasn’t elated over Dima’s trial, nor the result. It wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine I might not want Dima to be forced to return—and there’s nothing I can do to hide that reality. But it’s not a lie to say that pushing the issue isn’t in Elja’s best interests—especially considering Invino is one of the nations providing us with food to offset the famine.
I just need the people to see that.
The crowd in Vejla’s center is so large I can’t see the end of it from my place before them. It seems every time I come out here, more people arrive to see my addresses. Which is a positive sign, I imagine, given they aren’t out here screaming. But still, it feels as though the swollen crowd is sitting on my chest, on my back, their pressure threatening to break me.