by Stuart Jaffe
When she stepped back onto the beach, Reon was gone. A tree crashed down, sending up flames and sparks high in the sky. Malja stared at the empty spot in the sand where she had last seen Reon.
“Korstra and Kryssta,” Malja said and kicked at the sand.
With her do-kha, she opened a portal back to the swamps and the do-kha factory.
She stood at the entrance to the main hall. She readjusted her grip on Viper and slowed her breathing. She would have to be vigilant. The Chairman and the supervisors would be upset, and she had failed to bring back the Soul of the Sun. The groyles may have taken back control. There may still be a fight ahead of her.
With her shoulder she nudged the door open and slid in. Fawbry and Tommy stood in the center of the room as groyle business rushed around them. The vines had been removed — possibly by Tommy, possibly the groyle workers — and the disrupted desks had been returned to their proper places.
Malja slid Viper away and approached her friends. They looked as confused as she felt. In front of them, the supervisors worked hard writing and filing, rushing about to get the day’s work done, while the Chairman oversaw the activity. The only evidence that anything unusual had happened — most of the groyles bore scratches on their faces from the assault.
“What are they doing?” Malja asked.
Fawbry put his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “I think they’re pretending we don’t exist. I’ve seen this kind of thing before. People get so rich that they start to think their money will fix all their problems. When faced with real trouble, they get back to work. Work makes them money, and money solves their problems.”
“But that won’t help them here.”
“Doesn’t matter. If they’re anything like us, they’ll stick with what they know.”
“If we don’t stop Harskill, it’ll get worse for all of us. These groyles will be faced with things they can’t ignore.”
“As long as you got us two, we’ll take care of all this.” Fawbry gave Tommy’s shoulder a shake.
“Oh, really?”
“Sure. Tommy will find Harskill, then you and I go in and steal back the Soul of the Sun. We’ve done things a lot harder before.”
Malja watched the Chairman and supervisors toil. In a low voice, she said, “We won’t need to steal the Soul of the Sun. This time, I’m going to kill Harskill.”
Chapter 12
Reon
When Reon slammed into the carpeted floor, she smelled freshly brewed coffee. Lifting her head, she inhaled and enjoyed the promise of warmth and caffeine. She heard dance music coming up through the floorboards and from outside, a barking dog and a crosswalk chime.
“Welcome home,” Lord Harskill said.
Reon straightened. She was on the floor of her apartment. Lord Harskill sat at her desk, sipping from a steaming mug. A car outside squealed as it raced off. The autocars hummed while they returned to their prescribed patterns, no doubt they also reported the illegal joy rider.
Lord Harskill gestured to a second mug perched on a notebook. Reon grabbed the mug and drank too fast. Wincing as the hot coffee burned her tongue, she chuckled. “I didn’t realize how much I missed this place.”
Lord Harskill gazed out the window. “We all miss our homes, no matter how long or short we are away.”
As her shock wore off, she bowed her head to the floor. “My Lord, thank you for giving me this incredible suit and testing me with —”
“You don’t need to grovel.”
“Yes, my Lord,” she said and took a seat on her couch. She lacked the courage to lift her eyes, though. If she dared to look upon him and if his face showed disappointment — she refused to think about such things.
Placing his mug on the desk, Lord Harskill said, “I’m happy you returned. It took you so long; I had begun to think you had failed.”
“I had to deal with your other candidate.”
“Oh?”
“Malja.”
“I see.”
Reon heard concern in the Lord’s voice — maybe even a hint of surprise. She wanted to hide the truth, but a god can see through all. Best to admit everything. “We fought. She’s tough but —”
“But what?”
“I think she has a lot to learn.”
Lord Harskill’s eyebrows rose. Reon couldn’t tell if he was impressed with her assessment of Malja or mocking her for presuming to make such an assessment. “She didn’t kill you, so am I to assume that you won your fight?”
“I’d say it was a draw. Perhaps I got the better of her, but she’s still alive.”
“I see. And did your do-kha serve you well in this fight with Malja?”
“Oh, it’s an incredible thing. I’ve learned to use my do-kha in so many ways in such a short time, I can’t wait to see what it can do once I’ve really had time to work with it. I even created portals, though I think I failed for I don’t know how I ended up here.”
“You did not fail in that. You’ve learned much, even if you don’t understand how, and I can help you with that. Now that you have enough control to form a portal without destroying everything around, the rest is rather simple.”
Reon frowned. “I thought she had lied. Malja told the truth that I could’ve killed us all?”
Lord Harskill sipped his coffee while dismissing Reon’s concerns with a flutter of his hand. “I never said these tests were without risk. I’m looking for a special individual who can be strong enough to fight for all the worlds in all the universes. That task will require great strength and ingenuity. Most of all, it will require somebody who can take a life-threatening risk when required. Am I wrong in thinking you might be such an individual?”
“No, my Lord. I am here to do your bidding.”
“Good. Now, let me continue without such concerns. I dislike questions of doubt. Portals. Right before you created the portal that brought you here, what was the last thought you had?”
“I thought of home.”
“Exactly.”
“All I have to do is think of a place I want to go?”
Lord Harskill nodded. “Controlling a do-kha is all about intent and emotion. If you’re intention is clear — I want to go here or there — then the do-kha understands what to do. The stronger your emotional connection to the request, the better your success. Of course, like any valuable skill, this requires dedication and practice — it’s easy enough to explain, but putting my words into action isn’t easy at all. So, keep practicing, and one day you’ll have a complete mastery of your do-kha.”
Talk of controlling her do-kha reminded Reon of what she had stolen. She pulled out the Soul of the Sun and presented it to Lord Harskill. “For you, my Lord.”
Moving like a dancer and a king, Lord Harskill rose to his feet, stepped toward Reon, and lifted the Soul of the Sun. He held it above his head, inspecting it with a child’s wonder. Reon watched the Lord’s reverence for this object, and her body shivered. She had succeeded in bringing him this tool, and it was far more vital than she had realized. She had thought it was merely a test, but his mesmerized gaze told her otherwise.
“You have done well. Thank you,” Lord Harskill said and walked toward the door.
Reon’s heart dropped into her stomach. “That’s it?” He turned back, and his shocked expression forced her to look away. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I did not mean to be rude.”
“Yet you were. What’s wrong? The appreciation of a god isn’t enough for you? You feel that you deserve greater riches than your own do-kha?”
“No, not at all. I didn’t mean anything like that.” Reon fought the panic growing inside. It threatened to take control of her mouth and babble away about her love for her Lord and how she had spent her life in devotion to him and please don’t leave her to suffer through decades more of this world when she had seen what a greater world exists out there.
“Then what did you mean?”
“You told me this had all been a test. You said enough that I made the mist
ake of assuming you were testing me for some greater purpose.” Reon stopped herself from prostrating on the floor with one simple thought — another test. Of course. This was still part of her test. “But you would be wrong to leave without me. I am a strong and formidable fighter. This other candidate, Malja, she is also a good fighter, but she has no loyalty to you.”
Lord Harskill’s mouth twitched. “She certainly doesn’t.”
“I am the one you want by your side to defend you, to fight for you. I believe in you with all I have. And I will never give up. Never. If I am wrong in being so frank, if I am helping your cause by staying behind, then I will do so. I only want to serve.”
He hefted the Soul of the Sun in front of her. “You already have.”
“But I can offer so much more.”
Lord Harskill moved in close to her. “I’m curious.”
Reon looked up at him. Her body tingled. In all the nights since he had made love with her, she remembered every line, every whisker, every nuance of his face. Yet looking at him so close now, smelling his pleasant breath upon her face, she saw that he had grown even more handsome. The slight graying by his temples, the gentle wrinkles around his eyes, the coarse skin lining his jaw — together, they gave him a wise and desirable look.
Brushing by her, Lord Harskill glanced out the window at the street below. “You were at the do-kha factory. Obviously, since you found the Soul of the Sun. Did you see anything else of interest?”
“You know I did.” Her pulse hammered. More tests?
“Yet you haven’t asked me about these women who look so much like you. Why?”
“You are the Lord. If you want me to know, you’ll let me know.”
“I do want you to know. You look like them because you are one of them — a clone. You were born on that factory floor. Many years back, I broke in and stole you. I brought you here and exchanged you with a newborn at the hospital. I even chose which parents you would have — affluent, stable, a bit too religious. They would give you a strong moral upbringing and give you enough faith that you would accept my presence when I appeared.”
“Why?”
“Access, of course, to the do-kha factory. For Gate, the only way in without setting off all the alarms is through the front, which is well-guarded and fully observable. But workers in the factory have biometric signals so that they may enter and exit to follow the pipeline, make repairs, and such. That access includes the test clones. They are born and raised and used for testing with the do-khas, but they do need access to various buildings in the factory. The groyle made the mistake of assuming that since they control the only factory in the middle of a huge swamp, they had no issue with giving you clones similar access as their other lowly workers.”
“So, you stole me and had me raised so that I could infiltrate this factory whenever you wanted?”
“Exactly. Stealing a clone was easy at the time. Clones were made in a separate facility. That changed after I acquired you.” Lord Harskill stroked her cheek. “And then you went and did something unexpected. You became strong, studied fighting, turned into the remarkable achievement that you are. The Soul of the Sun is proof of your accomplishment. My expectation had been for you to gain access so that you could help me enter and take this vital possession. Yet here you are handing it to me. Incredible.”
Reon wanted time to absorb all of this, to figure out what it meant, but Lord Harskill motioned to leave once more. Her heart jumped. She dropped to the floor.
“Please. Don’t go.” She had no control of the words spewing out. “I am nothing without you, my Lord. You put me here. You created me. You watched me turn into this. And it was all for you. I’ve done this for you. Please don’t return me to my old, mundane life.” She lifted the covers off her bed and let them slide out of her hands like mud. “I don’t need these comforts. My Lord Harskill, you’ve shown me a sliver of this great universe. You’ve given me the gift of this do-kha and have hinted there is much more to be done. Please, let me be your instrument of success.”
The corner of Lord Harskill’s mouth lifted. “After all the effort I have put in to you, do you really think I would just walk away?”
“You’re not leaving?”
“Well, I do have a place to go. But I’ll be back.”
Reon jumped to her feet and wrapped herself around Lord Harskill. “Thank you. I was so worried that this would be it.”
“My dear, this is but the first step.”
Reon lifted her head and saw the warm promise in his eyes. She pushed up on her toes and pressed her mouth against his. Everything in her froze, shocked by her actions, but unwilling to pull back. To her astonishment, Lord Harskill kissed her back. Soft, at first — but his reaction fueled her own, and they spiraled into a tighter embrace.
She could barely breathe. Her heart pushed against his chest as she brought the rest of her body close against him. He pressed her onto the bed and climbed atop. She kissed and touched and drank in every strip of energy he provided.
She had more experience this time, and the results proved more fulfilling. Except for one moment, a passing second while she straddled him and moved in rhythm to his pace, she looked into his eyes and could tell he thought of another. But the moment passed as his urgency grew. Their pleasure heightened, and ultimately, they were satisfied.
An hour later, Reon slipped out of bed and headed down the hall. Her legs ached pleasantly. Her lips tanged with the longing to find Lord Harskill’s mouth once more. She had been drunk before and high once, but neither came close to the bliss her body felt when entered by a god.
She walked to the kitchen, and it all rushed away. Her mother stood at the counter filling a glass with pear whiskey.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
“I’m your mother. I haven’t heard from you in days. You really think I would simply ignore that? It’s insulting.”
“I see. You didn’t care at all about me; you were insulted that I hadn’t called since our last little spat.”
“If you’re going to be rude to me, at least do so with some decency. You look like a whore in that robe.”
Reon reached for a glass from the upper-cabinet, making sure to let her robe fall open. After pouring herself a glass of whiskey, Reon said, “Okay, you were worried about me and ... wait a minute, how did you get in my apartment?”
“Do you really think your father and I would simply let you live anywhere without being protected? We’ll always have access to wherever you are. That way, should anything happen to you, we can take care of you, be there for you.”
Reon leaned against the kitchen door jamb. She glanced down the hall at her bedroom. Part of her wanted to haul her mother by the arm, kick in the door, and introduce her to a real god. But she held back. No way would her mother accept Lord Harskill over Dulmul. Nothing would change.
A strange thought entered Reon’s head — a powerful intuitive leap that rang of truth. “You know, don’t you?”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “What are you on about now?”
“He said I was switched, that you didn’t know, but I think he said that to be kind to me. Because you’ve always treated me as something lesser. You’ve always known, haven’t you? That I’m not your daughter.”
As her mother’s face dropped open, Reon saw the confirmation. No shock at the revelation, but rather fear at being discovered. Her mother shot back the rest of her whiskey and placed the glass on the counter with a loud click.
She looked at Reon with hardened eyes. “Now you listen to me. I am your mother, you are my daughter. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says.”
“But it’s true. You knew that I didn’t belong to you, yet you took me. Why? Why didn’t you take your actual child? What could have been so wrong that ... oh. I see.”
“You see nothing.” Her mother’s chin trembled as her eyes watered. Her voice cracked as she continued, “I was not suited for taking care of a child with so many needs.”
; “You allowed this switch because your actual child was deformed? Or ill?”
“Dulmul knew the challenges I could face and the ones I could not. In his infinite wisdom, he presented this opportunity for me, and he wanted me to take it. I obeyed his command to do so.”
“You saw Dulmul?”
“Don’t be stupid. Of course not. But when you were brought to me instead of a son, the morning light broke through the window and cast a lovely orange color upon your face. A ray of sun on us both. That’s why I named you Reon. It was a sign from above. That was how I knew what Dulmul wanted. I signed the forms and from that moment forward you became my daughter, and that is how it has always been.”
Despite all the anger swirling in Reon’s chest, she felt a bit of pity. She couldn’t yell at this woman no matter how great her desire. All the past — the drinking, the religion, the fighting — it all made more sense through the filter of this new truth. Besides, her mother was right. Reon had been a gift from a god — just not the god her mother thought of.
Reon tied up her robe and hugged her mother. “It’s okay. You taught me that all things happen for a reason, that the world is connected, and I’m starting to see that now.”
“Of course I’m right about that. Why do you think I taught you?”
“Go home, Mom. Get some rest. We can talk about this another time.”
Reon’s mother straightened and jutted her chin out. “I don’t see that there’s anything to talk about. Get yourself together and stop looking so repulsive. I’ll see you for an extra lunch this month. Today.”
Reon stepped out of the kitchen and opened her apartment door. Her mother left without another word.
Walking back to her bedroom, Reon tried to forget — her mother, clones, adoptions, religion — tried to let it all lift off her shoulders and float away. Only Lord Harskill mattered. All the rest was folly.