by Chele Cooke
“Stay with your grandpa, buddy,” he said, following her out and into the tunnel.
She didn’t slow down, whipping the coat around her shoulders and shoving in her arms. Dhiren’s footsteps were heavy and fast behind her, and despite her quick strides, he caught her easily in the gloom.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her around. “Is this about that plan of yours? Whatever you’ve been doing.”
She yanked her arm free. “It’s nothing to worry about, Dhiren.”
“Tell me. And let me decide whether I should worry.”
“I can’t.”
Dhiren rounded her like a predator stalking prey; even in the slim tunnel, he was able to move around her with silent ease. There was that look in his eye: the sense that he could get whatever he wanted if he applied enough force.
He managed to slip between her and the exit. “We’re all in this. You can’t just run off and leave us locked down here.”
“I’m not Edtroka! I’d never lock you away.”
He cocked his head to the side, inspecting her. “No. But yourself?”
“What?”
“I’ve known you long enough, little bird, and I know when you’re planning something bad, even for yourself.”
“That’s not—”
“So, while I believe you when you say you won’t lock us away, I don’t believe you won’t put yourself in a cage in some silly attempt to save us.”
He was hitting too close to home, and Georgianna tried to twist away from his accusation. She knew how guilty it would make her look, and yet she couldn’t face him. “Silly? No, I’m not—”
“E’Troke got that look,” he said. “Right after he heard his father wanted him to hand himself over, and right before he went looking for you and Zanetti.”
“I already told you, I’m not Edtroka.”
“Then tell me where you’re going.”
Georgianna sighed. “I can’t.”
He stepped back and glanced down the tunnel towards their little camp. “Your family are back there, George. Don’t make them regret whatever you’re planning.”
Without waiting for a reply, or another lie, Dhiren returned to their camp, to her family, and left her standing alone.
She stood in the tunnel for a long time, trying to convince herself to go back, to put the tsentyl away and forget about this whole business. She wanted to listen to him. It would be safer that way, but for how long? How long would it be before the Cahlven hunted them down, or the Adveni decided to spit fire through the tunnels to chase them out. They wouldn’t survive the freeze without help, and they wouldn’t be able to help Beck or any of the other Veniche under the shield. This was her only choice.
Georgianna fastened up her coat and headed out of the tunnels, up into the frozen world.
As she hurried down the street, every breath came with a cloud: a clear giveaway, even without the long trail of footsteps through the snow. For the moment, at least, the snow had stopped falling, and there was nothing new to cover her tracks. But then a trail was exactly what she was after: just not her footprints. She needed to be trackable, and she had to make sure that it didn’t lead back to the tunnels.
Georgianna walked and walked, her feet numb and her body shivering with the unmoving cold that had settled in under the clear skies. There wasn’t a cloud above, nor a rustle of wind, and yet she couldn’t see the sun through the gaps in the buildings. It was only when she stopped that she realised where her walking had brought her. She stood on the rim of the Mykahnol crater, right where she had been when they had first seen the damage they had done.
It seemed appropriate, somehow.
She dug the tsentyl from her pocket and swiped it open, then took out the scrap of paper and propped it behind the device. She removed her glove and typed; her fingers trembled so hard that it took three attempts to get the code right. The tsentyl trembled in her fingers until a voice emanated out around her. The ghosts of all those Adveni killed in the blast, of the Veniche they had lost over the years, even of Jeshrom, the Cahlven pilot who died in the ship, all rose up to meet her.
“ Who is this?”
“Volsonnar?” Georgianna said, her voice wavering. “This is Georgianna Lennox. I have a deal for you.”
Javeknell Square was deserted and silent, covered in a thick blanket of snow: flat, smooth, and perfectly white. At the far end of the square, a mound had piled on top of the podium.
Georgianna wrapped her arms around her stomach and gazed across the white field, wondering what was hidden beneath. The last time she’d been here, it had been littered with bodies, a battle raging. She wondered who had cleared away the bodies, for there were no heaps of snow curved over shoulders and hips, no piles of dead barely masked by the elements. Had it been the Adveni who’d cleared them away, or the Cahlven? Were there still stains of blood across the cobblestones? If she stepped on that pure white carpet, would her footsteps be scarlet and ruby?
Were Edtroka’s cries for his father’s mercy still muffled down there?
Georgianna paced around the edge of the square until she could deny it no longer. Maarqyn had been specific about their meeting place, and she knew there was a chance he wouldn’t appear until she was in position. She took a deep breath, strode across the square and stood before the podium. Even the snow hadn’t completely masked the blue electric rope that had once bound her and Keiran to the post that spired up before her.
It didn’t take him long to arrive. He came with a group of soldiers and, upon seeing Georgianna, he stopped and took a long look around the rooftops.
“I’m here alone!” she shouted across the gap. “Just as I promised.”
Maarqyn signalled with his hand. Three members from each side of the group peeled off and disappeared around the sides of the buildings. Another signal, and the rest of the soldiers remained stationary while Maarqyn strode into the square.
He took little of the care Georgianna had shown while crossing the space. This confirmed that the Adveni had been involved in clearing the square after the battle. He wasn’t worried about bodies or blood. Or perhaps he just didn’t care how much blood he got on his boots; they’d probably already seen more than enough.
“Don’t be offended that I don’t trust your promises, my dear,” he said as way of greeting. “It would be a good ruse, would it not? To offer me a deal and then kill me?”
“Nobody’s going to try to kill you, Volsonne.”
“No? Is Alec not crouching on one of those rooftops with a rifle stolen from Adveni?”
“Alec doesn’t know I’m here. Nobody does.”
He frowned. “Well, that was probably rather silly of you, wasn’t it?”
“Probably.”
Maarqyn gazed down at her for a moment. “What would stop me from whisking you away right now? Ridding myself of a pesky little problem?”
Georgianna had to remember the way Edtroka had spoken to Maarqyn. She knew her owner had once feared the Commander, how he had been scared that Maarqyn knew of his traitorous actions. But even when he was at his most anxious, he had held his head up high and demanded respect. She thought that Maarqyn maybe admired him for it.
She adjusted her stance, stood up straight, and held her head high. “Nothing. There is nothing to stop you from killing me here and now, except that you’d never know about my offer.”
“You have nothing to offer me.”
Georgianna laughed, even as her chilled breath burned in her lungs. “Then why would I come?”
His eyes narrowed. He leaned forwards a fraction and gave her a cold smile. “I admit, I was curious to receive your call. I was intrigued, wondering how you’d attempt to kill me.”
“I already told you, nobody is here to kill you. We both know that another Adveni will take your place. It solves nothing.”
“And I am deserving of no more hatred than any other Adveni? I’m offended you see me as so casual an enemy, Miss Lennox.”
Georgianna shook her head and s
tared past his shoulder at a row of icicled windows. They glimmered and warped in the light, like the side of the Cahlven shield. “Do you want to hear my offer or not?”
“Please continue.”
She stepped back and balled her hands into fists inside her sleeves. Her fingers tingled with cold and her toes burned with the pain of it. Despite the urge to pace, or to fidget, she stood still and met his gaze. “We know what the Cahlven did to your last outpost. How they wiped out the natives.”
“What of it?”
“They plan to do the same here.”
Maarqyn met her gaze with a small smile. “And?”
“And I would have thought you’d like to prevent that. Or am I wrong about your intention to further the Adveni race? The Cahlven have already started testing. Some Veniche are getting sick, and we have no method of treatment.”
“And you, the medic…” He laughed.
“Yes, I appreciate the amusement this must give you.”
“Oh, my little bird, you have no idea.”
Georgianna stepped up to him. “I won’t let all those people be used as pawns for some grudge between two races who shouldn’t even be here.”
Maarqyn rubbed his hands together and raised an eyebrow. “What do you intend to do about it?”
Her teeth chattered, even as she tried to remain strong and sturdy in front of him. The way he looked at her caused all his past threats to flood into her memory. Every word, every leering look. He made her skin crawl, and yet he was her only hope. “I want you to do to them what they’re doing to us. I want the Adveni to create a sickness that would wipe out the Cahlven should they come in contact with it.”
“What makes you think that we haven’t tried?”
“I think you’ve been trying to get that virus into a Cahlven, maybe soldiers you took captive. They probably died too quickly, with not enough time for the virus to spread, or their sickness was discovered too fast and they were isolated. The virus was dead before it could reach other hosts.”
For the first time, she thought Maarqyn looked shocked, or perhaps confused. Maybe even both; he clearly didn’t believe what he was hearing. “And you’re suggesting…”
Georgianna smiled. “I’m suggesting you put the virus in me.” He blinked and stared at her like she’d sprouted a second head. “I am sure the Cahlven are testing viruses that only affect Veniche, and should they administer that virus to another Cahlven, it would do nothing to harm them. This was how they wiped out the last outpost you settled, correct? I am merely suggesting we reverse the roles. You want the Cahlven gone, and a virus that harms nobody but them? That’s sure to be a good deterrent. You could manipulate it to every one of your outposts. Protect them before the Cahlven even arrive.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
“We get the Cahlven to leave Os-Veruh and stop this war. We would require the Adveni’s help in protecting Veniche casualties, and so we will allow the Adveni to stay here, with certain limitations, of course. No more dreta, no more compounds. We will work with you, not beneath you. No more fighting. And in return, I will be your vessel for a virus targeted to those with Cahlven genetics.”
“You are not enough, Miss Lennox. The Cahlven could kill you and be done with it. It would need to be a widespread virus.”
She nodded. “And it will be.”
“Then why would I need you? I could take any rats off the street until it’s stable.”
“And how long would that take you, Volsonne? Even once the virus is ready. You’d need to take Ven here and there and administer it? Not to mention all the people you won’t have access to because they are held by the Cahlven. I will be your test subject. Once we are sure it is stable, and can be passed from generation to generation, I will administer doses to every Veniche.”
Maarqyn licked his thin bottom lip. “Why should I trust you?”
Georgianna shrugged and removed her glove. She held out her hand. “What do you have to lose? Either this works, and you get rid of the Cahlven from Os-Veruh for good. Or I die in the testing, and you’ve rid yourself of a pesky little problem.”
He glanced around the buildings, and when Georgianna followed his gaze, she found Adveni soldiers on rooftops all around them, having found nobody spying on them, or readying to shoot. Maarqyn nodded once and removed a thick, black glove.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed so tight that her knuckles shifted and ground together. “Miss Lennox, I believe we have a deal.”
Maarqyn had been surprisingly open to her suggestions when it came to organising the testing. They had no idea if or where the Cahlven were surveilling, and it would only be considered suspicious if Georgianna were seen to be making regular trips out to the Dwelling Quarter. She’d also informed him that she would be leaving the tsentyl in a location far from where she was staying. She would check on it every morning, but there would be no point in trying to track her down that way. She saw the annoyance on his face as he realised she’d already thought of ways to protect herself, and that she would not be caught off guard.
He had, in turn, informed her that it would take time to find the scientists capable of such a task, not to mention getting them set up in the city. He would contact her personally when the time came for her testing to begin.
Georgianna made her way from the square, passing through the Rion District. Aside from skirting the edge on her way to other parts of the city, and their visit for the meeting between Maarqyn and the Colvohan, she realised she hadn’t been into the district for a long time, since Edtroka’s death, in fact. A memory came to her: an image of him sitting at the bar in Crisco, listening in on her conversations with Laliyah.
She left the tsentyl under the bar, right at the end, opposite where Edtroka had been that night. She also rooted around for abandoned bottles of liquor; she wasn’t going to let an opportunity like this pass her by. Having found a decent stash, she left it on the shelf next to the tsentyl to be collected and taken back to the tunnels the next morning. For now, she had somewhere to be.
Despite leaving the tunnels early that morning, an inky blackness was spreading across the sky by the time she reached the Cahlven shield. She didn’t approach the main guard station this time, but returned to the house she’d passed through many times before. She stepped through the shield, taking longer than she usually would, and even walked up and down with her arm sticking through the shield for a few passes, just to be sure.
Three soldiers—all Cahlven this time—met her at the door to the house, guns raised.
Georgianna lifted her hands above her head and crossed her wrists, showing her hands open and empty.
“What you doing here?” one of the soldiers said.
“I’m here to see the Colvohan.”
They exchanged confused looks, but didn’t drop the weapons for a moment. “You are not allowed.”
Georgianna beamed. “Oh, I know. In fact, why don’t you use that little device thing to tell him that Georgianna Lennox has been caught coming through the shield.”
“He arrest you,” another of the soldiers said.
Georgianna nodded. “That is likely, yes, but I need to talk to him. So whether I do that here, or at the ship, it doesn’t matter to me.”
Her amusement and willingness to be arrested seemed to confuse the soldiers, and they talked in their own language for a few minutes before two came to her sides, took a grasp of her coat, and led her towards the ship.
“Can I drop my hands?”
“Yes,” one said.
“No!” the other said.
Her arms were quickly tiring, and so Georgianna dropped them. The soldier who’d denied her looked furious, but he just adjusted his grasp to her elbow.
Inside the ship, they escorted Georgianna up to a small box lift that travelled up through the levels. When the doors opened, the lead guard walked straight out and marched down the corridor, blindly believing that his fellow soldiers were behind him. They were, but Georgianna found his fait
h in their obedience interesting.
She was led to a door with a large plaque covered in symbols she recognised but didn’t understand. The lead soldier placed his hand against a panel and spoke into a screen that flashed to life. The door opened by itself.
She was deposited in what looked like a living room, and the soldiers walked away down the corridor as the door closed behind them. Georgianna looked around in surprise.
“Miss Lennox.”
The First Colvohan, Naltahn, appeared through an open doorway and stopped, some distance away, leaving a table and chairs between them.
“Colvohan.” She nodded. “I admit, I thought I was being taken to a prison cell.”
“A possibility for afterwards.” He waved towards the table and took a seat. “But I was informed you wished to speak to me and I try to limit my visits to the incarceration levels.”
Georgianna joined him at the table and pulled out a chair. She took a cautious seat, half expecting a series of bindings to fly out from the arm rests and legs, fixing her in place.
“A drink? Food? I cannot imagine you are eating well in those tunnels.”
Georgianna nodded. “A drink would be nice. But I assure you, we eat fine. Hunting is in our blood.”
He nodded and brought a set of projected symbols up from the table. He typed something and pressed a button, causing the symbols to vanish.
“Yes, as I have come to discover. After all, you hunted and caught my Emissary. You even hunted within our ship and went away with your catch. Though not your whole catch, if I am correct?”
There was no point in lying. Not now. “You are correct. It was our intention to free all the Veniche held here.”
“As I have already informed you, we do not hold the Veniche here against their will.”
“I came here to make you a deal,” she said, leaning forwards and resting her arms on the table. “I did not come here to be lied to.” Naltahn rested his elbow on the table and stroked his chin, but did not answer. He waved for her to continue. “We know what the Cahlven did to the last Adveni outpost you fought over. You killed every native as a way to limit the Adveni expanding their numbers. Targeted disease. That’s right, isn’t it?”