“Yes, you are. They specifically requested you do it.”
“Why not Atlas? He’s the boss,” Romy said, cheeks heating.
Tina ignored her, asking Elara, “How long’ve we got?”
“Take your seat.” Elara’s voice crackled through the mic. “I’ll be starting the descent soon.”
Romy looked back to find Tina had disappeared into the back. How convenient. But seriously, Romy wasn’t shaking hands with a Mandate member. She could barely manage a poker game without losing her temper.
The craft landed with a jolt, and Tina made herself unusually busy to avoid Romy. Then she opted to ride in a different vehicle to the city.
Clearing the Dublin gates and security took another hour. The Renegades hadn’t attacked any Irish cities yet, but clearly the Mandate expected it. It was a strange feeling to drive through these heavily armed gates that not so long ago, Knot 27 snuck through with ease . . . the night she shot Mandate Saavin.
“Keep your guns down.” Tina’s voice crackled through the walkie on Thrym’s shoulder. “But do not drop your guard. Our priority is protection of Knot 27. They’re our public VIPs. The objective is to get them in, put on a show, and get them out.”
“Roger that,” Thrym said, holding down the side of the device.
“Did you guys ever think we’d be VIPs when we crash-landed?” Elara asked.
Deimos grinned. “Public VIPs.”
“Do you think that comes with foot massages?”
He shook his head. “I think that comes with an ‘I’m going to smile so much today my face will hurt’.”
As they drove between the sky-rises of white bubble houses into the centre of the city, Romy caught glimpses of many of their squads on the ground, often in mixed groups with the Mandate’s forces. She hadn’t known what to expect. City dwellers peered into the cars as they continued farther into the sparkling white heart of the city. The levitating rail system criss-crossed overhead, transporting the people here to their various leisurely pursuits and social engagements.
“What do you think?” Thrym asked.
With the Mandate by their side, the Amach might be able to win this war. From there, they would need to unify Earth’s people, who, at this point, were massively divided. To Romy, Tina’s plan to ‘break the ice’ with these city dwellers seemed like something the Amach should worry about after they’d won—if they won. Romy didn’t understand how it would be possible to undo prejudice by walking around in someone else’s city, and by shaking hands with someone everyone knew you hated. Romy blew a breath out. “I think that I have no idea if this will work or not, and whether we’re wasting our time.”
The cars pulled to a halt in the blinding white centre of New Dublin, the place they’d once watched Mandate Saavin make her speech about how the Amach were an evil rebellion.
“Smiles on,” Tina crackled again.
They filed out of the huge bulletproof vehicles and walked toward the small greeting party. Romy was relieved to see none of the Mandate members were there waiting for them. Four were white-clad soldiers. High up, judging by the assortment of silver medals pinned to their chests. The rest she recognised as their people. Two were commanders from their Amach sent to Dublin a week ago to make sure the city was secure.
“Welcome,” the most decorated Mandate soldier said. “I am General Kristoph.”
They went through the introductions and Romy was uncomfortably aware of the glares from the enemy soldiers. They’d definitely seen the recordings from Cairo. The one of her killing a lot of them. She straightened and gave them a wide, disarming smile.
“I didn’t bring you to antagonise,” Tina hissed for her ears alone.
“You told me to smile.”
“Not like a maniac. Do your normal ‘marry me and I’ll cook for you’ smile.”
“I don’t know how to cook.”
The general gave them a surreptitious glance. “Mandate Tony Debranc is flying in at 1500 hours for a public address. Until this time, we plan to show you around the city as per your commander-general’s . . . request.” He said the word like it was rotten.
Mandate Tony. The man who’d nearly pressed the button that would’ve killed thousands of space soldiers? He was the Mandate Tina wanted her to shake hands with? Over Romy’s dead body.
“Yes,” Tina said, stepping forward. “That sounds great. I believe your civilians spend a great deal of the day in leisurely pursuits—”
“They do. However, I thought a rundown of—”
“I look forward to seeing the everyday life of a city dweller.” Tina overrode him, a hint of venom entering her tone. “I’m sure it’s vastly different to that of the Amach. It will be a solid step forward in ensuring a peaceful alliance between us. Understanding each other is key, wouldn’t you say?”
The general’s face turned faintly purple. “Of course, Tina.”
“Commander Tina,” she corrected. The red-haired woman glanced around. “Lead on, general. We aren’t getting any younger.”
* * *
Mandate Tony.
Shaking his hand was all Romy could think about as they were paraded through a variety of classes. Pasta class, yoga, meditation—which Elara fell asleep in.
On a surface level, Romy could understand why the Amach had to give the alliance with the Mandate their full attention. An alliance was the only chance to beat Houston. The problem was, Romy hated the Mandate and what they represented, what they’d done to the space soldiers.
At least the request for Romy to be the one sealing their alliance now made sense. Tony had a personal vendetta against her. The Mandate member had one less finger after meeting with Feral Romy in Cairo. She’d literally shot a remote out of his hands, and everyone had seen it. Was Romy and everyone else supposed to forget that happened? Was the entire world supposed to believe things were okay because she shook hands with the guy?
None of the Dublin city dwellers had forgotten. They approached everyone else—aside from Deimos, whom they recognised as someone usually found by Houston’s side. But the others. . . . The Dublin residents shared their carbonara with most of the Amach team, including the rest of Knot 27. Romy hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but she hadn’t expected a five-metre radius of fear. She found her smile coming out regularly over the day as she tried to put the people at ease, but what point was there, really, when they’d seen her slaughter all those people?
“They just need to see you’re a person,” Tina said for the twentieth time.
Mmmhmm, yep. “Sure.” Romy smiled at a woman whose face went blank instantly. “This is why Thrym should shake hands with Tony.”
“People know how much you hate the Mandate. They’ve seen evidence of it. You shaking Tony’s hand means more. We need this alliance to work, Romy.”
Romy rubbed at her temples. “I know.”
Deimos slid next to her. Tina had kept them separated for most of the day so their sheer unified presence didn’t overwhelm anyone. “What I want to know is, are you going to shake his hand with four fingers, or five.”
“I shot his left hand.”
“Lucky. An awkward situation has been averted.” His eyes cut to the simmering Tina. “How important is this handshake?”
“Don’t be an ass, Deimos. If we don’t seal this deal, Houston is going to steamroll us. It is crucial—”
“Making pasta?” he interjected.
“Yes, making pasta. Don’t you understand how spending even one hour with someone of a different culture can alter your perception?”
“Honestly, no,” he said, and Romy had to agree.
“Stupid space soldiers.” Tina walked over to Thrym, who could clearly be trusted.
Deimos tossed an apple in the air. “That was rude.”
“She is good at what she does. She’s probably right about pasta being important,” Romy said, tapping her lip. “How are you doing?”
He glanced around the packed kitchen. “No one’s given me carbonara yet.
”
“Me neither.”
A few beats passed. “How did we become the rebels of our group?” she asked, leaning on the stainless steel bench.
“Ro, honey, I was always a rebel. You, on the other hand, I can’t explain.”
She cleared her throat. “You know who doesn’t mind your rebellious tendencies?”
“Doesn’t mind as in respects them, or doesn’t mind as in finds them sexy?”
Yuck. Romy scrunched her nose. “The second one.”
“Do tell.”
“Charlee.”
He backed up next to her, gripping the apple tight. “Really? I thought she’d be well and truly pissed at me for running. She hasn’t spoken to me since I’ve been back.”
The fact he’d noticed was surprising. It told her he might return some of the doctor’s feelings, which she hadn’t expected. “Well, she wanted me to tell you . . . I’m not exactly sure, but I think the underlying message was she wouldn’t be averse to sleeping with you again.”
He gave her a speculative look. “Charlee’s not like other girls I’ve met.”
“She’s smart,’ Romy said with fondness. “Sometimes she’s crazy and Irish.”
“Oh, I’ve met her crazy side.” His green gaze grew heated.
Romy shuddered and peered over to Tina, who was herding everyone to the door. “Deimos, I can’t do this. Too much rides on it. What if I lose my cool, and ruin things by shooting him and then Houston wins?”
Deimos quirked a brow. “Don’t take a gun.”
“I’m serious.”
They trailed after the main group.
“Ro, you’ve done a lot of big things in a short time, and you’ve never failed to do what you had to do. This handshake is nothing in comparison, and, I suppose, much more in some ways. There’s no heat to this moment, no adrenaline; you’ve had time to think beforehand. Believe me, you’re not the only one who’d like to put an end to that guy. I’ve dreamed of doing it myself for a long, long time, but Romy, there’s something bigger at play here. We have to put aside our anger to achieve what we really want. That’s what I’m trying to remember. If you really can’t do it, I guess we’ll deal with that,” Deimos said. “We’ve dealt with far worse, after all. Just . . . don’t forget you were a soldier before you were anything else. One who has always preferred to run and read—but a soldier still.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Tina, I’m serious,” Romy said. “I’m not doing it. It’s hypocritical. He is the epitome of everything I hate in the world.”
The commander threw her hands in the air, cursing. “Talk some sense into her,” she snarled at Thrym before stomping off.
Romy gave Thrym a flat look. They were in the wings of the stage, waiting for Mandate Tony to wrap up his speech—no doubt a meticulously put-together piece of propaganda.
“I’m not doing it,” she repeated. “You do it.”
“Let’s discuss the pros and cons,” Thrym offered.
Elara smirked. “He’s going to try and talk her around.”
Phobos shrugged. “I can see her point. She’s had more direct interaction with that guy. I can see why she’d hate the thought of putting on a show that’s nothing but lies. But, Romy, think of what happens if you don’t.”
“Thrym does it, and we go home,” Romy said, crossing her arms.
“The people see someone who isn’t the person they’ve seen on the screens shaking Tony’s hand. They then think about the woman in black they’ve seen walking around all day, and wonder why she wasn’t the one to do it. . . . And if you do shake hands with him?”
“I stab him in the heart,” Romy said viciously, cheeks flushing.
Her knot stared at her.
“Deep breaths, Ro,’ Elara said. “That temper is just peeking out.”
“Just?” Deimos muttered. Elara stood on his foot.
Romy took deep breaths.
“Maybe she’s right,” Thrym said shrewdly. “Maybe she can’t handle it.”
What? “That’s not why I’m not doing it.”
He turned away from her to address the rest of their knot. “We can’t trust her temper after everything that’s happened.” He sighed. “It’s a shame because this really was a crucial step in the eventual merging of Earth’s civilians, but it has to be done right. We can’t risk any . . .” He glanced back. “. . . tantrums onscreen.”
Romy’s mouth dropped open.
“Deimos,” Tina called. “You’re up.”
With a tight nod, Deimos strode to the curtain and disappeared through it. The others watched him go.
“Did you guys know he was speaking?” Phobos asked.
Everyone shook their head in reply, and drew closer to the stage curtain.
Romy blanched at the thousands of people in attendance. All the usual city dwellers, plus a chunk of the Amach force. Romy tracked Deimos’s progress to centre stage.
“Greeting to the people of New Dublin,” Deimos said, voice booming out through the speakers in the audience. “I asked to speak to you today because I know my presence with the Amach must have you confused. When you last saw me, I was by someone else’s side, the leader of the group who call themselves the Renegades.” He stood tall, encased in his blue coveralls, handsome and sure. Though Romy knew the other members of Knot 27 could sense his nerves, as she could.
“I want you to know why I was there,” he said, peering into the crowd. “I was a soldier aboard Orbito One. A year and a half ago, my knot crash-landed here after a battle with the Critamal. We survived, just. But I speak on behalf of all space soldiers when I say that learning humankind still existed and we’d been enslaved up there. . . . It broke me into pieces for a good, long time.”
“What is he saying?” General Kristoph hissed.
Tina glared at Deimos. “Nothing I told him to say, I assure you. He will be disciplined.”
Romy bit back a smile. Liar.
“I got angry, people of New Dublin, so very angry at the thought of what was happening to my friends. I sought to extract revenge by fighting fire with fire, and that was when I realised doing so wasn’t helping my fellow space soldiers at all. I was simply thrusting them into even more danger than they’d been in before.”
The general quieted beside Tina.
“I was wrong to side with Houston. The Renegades leader had been conducting cruel medical tests on my comrades,” he admitted to a horrified collective gasp from the crowd. “So I escaped with the space soldiers in tow, and Commander-general Atlas allowed me to join the Amach ranks once more. On this point, there is one thing I want to make clear. My knotmate, Rosemary, was never with the Renegades.” The crowd hushed to listen.
“Houston tested on her for weeks before he left to form the Renegades.” He nodded sadly at the audience, green eyes operating at full tilt. “The person you saw in Cairo was the person he’d made her to be, not who she is.” Deimos glanced toward Romy, with a wry smile. “People of Dublin, there is so much uncertainty right now, but of one thing I am absolutely certain: If we let the Renegades and Critamal win, no one will be safe. Not the space soldiers, not you, nor your leaders. That is why I wholeheartedly support our alliance with your people today.”
“He didn’t even choke on the words,” Elara mused in Romy’s ear.
To Romy it sounded as if Deimos believed every single thing he said.
“Tina must’ve threatened him with something,” Phobos said.
“All right, Romy, get ready,” Tina said, approaching her and fussing with her outfit.
Thrym wound through their group from the back. “I’ll be doing it.”
“No, you won’t,” Romy said, pushing in front of him. “I am.” She sniffed. “Don’t think I’m not aware of your reverse psychology tricks back there.”
If Deimos was strong enough to speak just now, she could shake Mandate Tony’s damn hand. As long as, at the end of this, he ended up getting what he deserved.
Mandate Tony took the stage
again and Romy lifted her chin to peruse him. He was the same as ever. Brown hair and unyielding brown eyes. Mandate Tony was one of the six remaining Mandate members, but time spent in his company had informed her he was the mastermind within the Mandate. He pulled the majority of the strings. His was the face the people knew and adored.
She hated him.
He’d nearly killed her knot. He’d promised to torture her for the remainder of her life. He’d been one push of a button away from killing thousands.
Blood rushed to her cheeks and she took deep breaths, trying to get a hold on her temper as the Mandate spoke.
“We are two very different peoples,” Tony said, stressing the word ‘different’, “but we unite now under a common goal. We will take down the Renegades and Critamal together,” he called.
The people roared.
“He’s good,” Tina said. “I’ll give him that, but his hair sucks.”
“I hope you will join me in welcoming our new allies to Dublin city.” The crowd burst into wild applause, and he smiled at them indulgently, saying, “With a final handshake, I would like to make the alliance official on behalf of the other Mandate members, and planet Earth.”
Tina shoved her forward and Romy trotted obediently onto the stage, dressed head to toe in black.
There was a weird few seconds where she remembered reading her nano on her cramped cot aboard Orbito One. That memory seemed like so long ago. . . . Equating this moment with that memory was impossible. She was about to seal an alliance that might prove crucial in winning this war. How was this happening to her?
Blood pounded in Romy’s ears as she crossed the stage. Mandate Tony’s amused face as she approached him didn’t help any. They couldn’t trust this man. He’d turn on them as soon as the job was done. In her eyes, the Mandate were just as bad as Houston—they just didn’t have control over the cannons.
Whoever had control of the cannons, controlled the world, Romy realised in a blink of clarity.
As soon as the Renegades were out of the picture, if they were ever out of the picture, the Mandate and the Amach would be left scrambling to seize the cannons.
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