by White, Gwynn
She stood in his path and said, “We should talk.” She pulled a small memory chip out of her pocket and held it up, so he would know what she wanted to talk about.
It was one of those that Yadikira had left for him, each taped carefully to the back of a priceless painting in her bedroom. Like the subject of Miracle, this was one he’d been unable to face. Like that subject as well, he knew he’d have to sooner or later.
Lila sensed his indecision and reluctance. Of course, she did. That’s what best friends did.
“Girard, it’s time.”
He nodded, but followed her out of the lounge. He felt so heavy, so lead-footed all the sudden. She passed all the business parts of the complex until they reached the Historian sections. Hardly anyone was working at the moment, and the hum of the big machine they used to peer into those destroyed scrolls was absent. In her office—which was as cluttered as ever—she sat him down in the same chair where he first read that section about Thalia and scooted another chair across from him.
Laying the chip in his hand, she said, “I only got about thirty minutes into this first one before I stopped. This is meant for you.”
He raised his eyes from the little blue chip in his hand. “I don’t think I can.”
She smiled sympathetically and closed his fingers over the bit of plastic and metal. “You can, and I think you’ll be happy once you do. Not happy like dancing around, but happy in the way we are when we know we’ve done the right thing.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, not entirely clear on her meaning. Lila sighed, then plucked an envelope from her desk and put it into his hands. The rattle inside told him it was the other memory chips.
“Girard, I’ve known you for a long time, since you came to this continent, but you lived a long life before then and I know you came here to forget that life. Yes, I know you lost your child, but you also lost your mate and that made the second loss all the greater. I can’t even pretend to understand what that feels like. I’m only beginning to feel what it might be like to even want such a thing, but I do understand loss all too well. For you, it nearly broke you. You come off so cool, so competent…that Guardian who needs no one. That’s not who you are and I know it. Your heart was broken.”
He held up a hand to stop her. This, he didn’t need to hear.
She pushed down his hand and continued. “No, listen to me. You felt a strong pull toward Yadikira and who knows, with time that might have become something, but what you felt was the draw to someone who’s heart had been broken as completely as yours. You may genuinely not realize it, but your job here isn’t just law and order. There’s a reason so many of those you help go on to live happy and good lives. It’s because you can’t mend your own broken heart, so you try to help others mend theirs. Yadikira was one of those and you did help her. You helped her by being yourself, by being the one being she felt she could trust with the most precious thing she had left to her; her child. You let her go on to whatever it is that comes next. She knew that. She says as much in this first video.”
Girard shook his head, but it was a weak shake, an unconvincing shake. Some of what Lila said might be true, but that couldn’t be all it was. Couldn’t.
She drew in a deep breath and let his hand go, patting the envelope once before she did, then leaned back in her chair. “Watch them. I stopped, as I told you, but I did count the times on all the videos and it’s well over thirty hours. She must have worked almost non-stop after our visit. What she gave you in those chips is her life. The whole thing. She mentions at the beginning that she hopes you’ll pass them on to me—and yes, that’s a hint—but they’re yours. I think they might help you.”
They sat in silence for a while, each of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. Girard didn’t know if he had it in him. Could he watch these? Could he stand to see her face knowing that only days later he would see the life leave those eyes forever?
A brusque knock sounded on the office door while they sat there, then pushed open before Lila had a chance to reply. It was Delilah, once again without her habit, but this time wearing jeans and a plain blue shirt, her hair pulled back into a messy bun.
She jerked to a stop at the door when she realized she might have interrupted something, then said, “Oh, sorry. Should I come back?”
First glancing at Girard, Lila said, “No, go on. Something wrong with Christina?”
Delilah dug a folded paper from her back pocket and handed it over. “No, nothing wrong, per se. Thalia popped back in for a minute or two and said she’d be willing to talk with you, but then Christina came back and said not until Borona and she got through some game all the way to the last boss fight—whatever that is.”
Girard smiled a little at that, because he knew what the girl meant. Borona told him that they sat, side by side on either side of the glass wall embedded with steel mesh, and played each other on their separate screens. And that obsession was catching on apparently, because Marcus had developed an unseemly love of those games and played them for hours on end. If she was waiting for the final battle to finish the game, then they were talking about days, not hours.
Lila held up the folded paper, which turned out to be two sheets of regular old notebook paper, and asked, “And this?”
Delilah raised her eyebrows and grinned. “Her shopping list.”
Unfolding the papers, Girard saw that each page was entirely filled with text. If that was a shopping list, then it was a long one. Lila’s eyes widened as she scanned the text. “Are you kidding me? Wasn’t she the one who wanted to destroy industry because consumerism was killing the planet?”
Grin still firmly in place, Delilah answered, “Yeah, but she’s also a thirteen year old girl who just realized a shadow vampire government is going to pay for everything.”
That made Lila snort, but she was smiling too.
Delilah sighed a little, grabbing the doorknob as she prepared to leave. “You know, it’s been a long time since we had a child around. I missed it. I rather like her.”
That roused Girard. The wistful way she said it, the lack of caution it implied, couldn’t be let pass. “Delilah, you saw what she was capable of on those videos. Don’t get caught up in it. Remember that she’s an ancient who’s not quite right in the head as well as a young woman.”
The tone took the grin off Delilah’s face and she nodded. “Of course. I’ll remember.” Then she smiled a little and added, “But I still like her.”
Lila said, “She is pretty likable once you get past the whole genocidal murderer thing.”
“Yeah, that.” He shook his head. Thalia and Christina were trouble, just in entirely different ways. The near future was definitely going to be interesting.
Lila abruptly narrowed her eyes and sniffed the air. “Delilah, is there something you want to share?”
Again, Delilah’s eyebrows shot up, but this time there was an amused and knowing look to go with it. “Yeah, I’ll be putting in an application with Girard’s division once we figure out the whole Christina situation.”
Clearly, Girard had missed something. “Why?”
Lila rolled her eyes and said, “You have the worst sense of smell. She’s pregnant, you idiot.”
Baffled, Girard glanced from Delilah’s midsection to her face, then back again.
Delilah smirked and said, “I haven’t told Marcus yet, so mum’s the word.” Before he had a chance to respond, she swept out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Both of them eyed the closed door for a moment, then Lila sighed. “His wife is going to freak out completely.”
“Ex-wife,” Girard said. “Murder nullifies a marriage to the best of my knowledge.”
“I wonder what murdering him twice does?”
Girard shook his head, not at all looking forward the future drama that would very likely unfold in these halls.
“Are you going to watch them,” Lila asked him, all the humor of a moment ago gone.
Slipping the chip in h
is hand into the envelope, he stood and walked toward the door. “Call me if you need me.”
She said nothing more and Girard left, making his way through the silent library and scanning room. He nodded or said hello as required while he made his way through the complex toward the living areas, but he was barely aware of the interactions. The envelope in his hand felt like it weighed as much as a mountain.
In his room, he inserted the chip marked with a firmly scripted ‘#1’ into the computer and slipped into his chair, loosening his tie and tossing it onto the bed behind him.
And there she was.
Yadikira’s face was framed in the picture, the morning light from her bedroom window making her face almost glow. He could see the pillows propped up behind her and hear the whisper of the oxygen machine near the bed, though she wasn’t using the mask. He took a deep breath.
“Girard, please don’t be angry with Josette. She’s only done as I asked and if you’re seeing this, then I’ve already passed. I don’t want you to think of it as death, only passing. Like everything on this earth—everything that lives—we must pass on. And it’s more than time for me. I’m not afraid, only tired.”
She paused and looked up at someone, probably Josette. Had any of them had any notion that it would be Josette who died first? Perhaps by only hours, but first nonetheless.
“I suppose you’ve met my daughter, Miracle, by now. I have this feeling, this notion, that you two are meant to know each other. There’s something important there, but I can’t put my finger on it. Whatever it is, take care of her. As you’ve no-doubt already learned from Josette, she’s very special, unique almost. That also makes her valuable. If humans find out about her or the sister inside her, they would do anything to possess them. For them, it would mean discovering the secret to an incredibly long life, but without one of us owning the body. So, keep her safe for me.
“Now, I’m going to give you a gift. I’m going to give you the story of my life. Only my husband knew it all, and since Josette is here with me, she’ll know it too, but this is for you. You can give it to Lila afterwards if you like. The decision is yours. I know you’re feeling sad, feeling loss, but in you I sense something else too; a hunger for life. You’ve put it on hold for a long time, but it’s there inside you. I’m going to give you mine. I hope it will set that hunger alight in you, stoke the fire so that you’re ready for all that you might experience if you’d only let yourself. Believe it or not, you’re very young and there is much for you to do in this world.” She paused again, her eyes crinkling as she smiled.
“Are you ready?”
THE END
* * *
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About Ann Christy
First, thank you for reading! Girard wasn’t meant to be published until I had more of that world created, but Dominion Rising was really the perfect vessel to take it out into the world. It began because I spent my first career as a military officer and scientist…which means I like to create things that could be real. After creating a world in which medical nanites cause the apocalypse (Between Life and Death), a reader on Facebook jokingly challenged me to figure out a way to make vampires real too.
Challenge accepted.
It took several months of study to figure out a path in which something like vampires could be biologically possible, but a whole lot longer to create a world that I would like to read as a reader. I hope you enjoyed it too.
If you’d like to see more of my work, I’ve got a load of it out there. You can peruse it all, plus read sneak peeks, at my website: http://www.annchristy.com. I’ve painted several of the characters from this book and you can see photos of my finished paintings there. The Thalia Rising one is particularly creepy.
Until next time, happy reading!
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Ember in Space Book One
Rebecca Rode
Getting sold to the Empire was never part of the plan.
Ember lives two very different lives. By day she’s a mysterious Roma future-teller, and by night she struggles to care for her sick father. All she wants is the power to control her own life—no arranged marriage, no more poverty. Her future-reading talent is what will get her there.
But when the Empire discovers her gift, Ember’s life changes forever.
Ember soon finds her innocent talent is far more dangerous than she believed. The Empire wants to turn her into a deadly weapon. But Ember has plans of her own, and they don’t include living under the Empire’s control.
Because even the best weapons can backfire.
1
Ember ran her fingers absently along the faded purple tablecloth and brushed away a stray crumb. She hadn’t had time for laundry this morning, and it desperately needed scrubbing. Today’s customers would just have to deal with it.
She didn’t have time for laundry in general these days. Tourist season meant sitting at her market stall during daylight hours, smiling at visitors as they glared back, and offering to read their futures as they made their way down to the beach. And worrying about her sleeping father at home, of course. She’d planted a kiss on her Dai’s feverish forehead and had come early today, hoping to catch the first wave of tourists before the other sellers arrived and scared them off.
The smuggler would be here with Dai’s medicine any day now, and she was well short of his price. She couldn’t afford to miss a single customer.
Today’s visiting shuttle was docked in the distance, small and unfamiliar—a CVL-2078, passenger limit eighty-two. Its passengers had begun to stream in a few minutes ago, but they barely shot her a glance as they pranced excitedly toward the warm sand, their trim bodies carefully sculpted as if they had nothing useful to do wherever it was they’d come from.
These tourists would be great-grandchildren of the original exodus. Most of them had never been back to Earth their entire life. Earth was a dead thing now, a historical monument to the beginning of the human race. Only the Roma remained, making a living from the scraps everyone else had left behind. For nearly a century, their only visitors had been scientists and historians—until a celebrity declared their beach the best in three galaxies. Now they had plenty of business.
As long as the tourists kept returning with their chips full of credits, Ember wasn’t going to complain.
She eyed the sky, which was only a slightly lighter shade of brown than the last time she checked. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty, and she’d go home and make sure Dai ate. She swallowed back the guilt, knowing he’d be lying awake in bed by now, hungry and missing his daughter. She should have forced him to eat before she left. But his nights of sound and painless sleep were few and far between these days.
She smoothed her scowl into a more pleasant expression as another group of tourists approached. This group ignored the sellers’ calls completely, seeming intensely interested in the packed dirt road at their feet.
“Shoes,” the shoemaker called out two stalls down. “Half price for you.” His accent was atrocious. The man spoke just enough Common to sell the occasional pair of plastic shoes he’d marked up three times their worth. Ember had once offered to teach him more of the language, but he’d scoffed at the offer. Not that she cared. If he wanted to sound ridiculous at the market, it was his business.
“Love, prosperity,” Ember said to a blonde woman whose rolls bulged beneath her thin swimsuit. “Give me five minutes, and I will reveal what awaits you.”
The lady’s eyes grew wide as she took in Ember’s traditional blouse and long skirt. Then she shook her head so violently Ember worried the woman would fall right over.
“He said there would be gypsies,” her companion muttered to her, and they shared a knowing look. Then they strode down the walk arm in arm, ignoring the other sellers’ offers.
Ember sighed. Their pilot must have issued a warning to his passeng
ers. There wouldn’t be any business today.
She carefully gathered her mother’s cards. They were soft from use, the back sides hand-painted by another Roma future-teller long ago, although she’d never asked her mother who. She’d waited too long to ask, and now she’d never know.
She slipped them into her hidden skirt pocket and began to fold her tablecloth. She’d come back later, as the tourists returned to their shuttle. Maybe they’d be less uptight then. And if not, she’d have to be more aggressive with her price. The smuggler wouldn’t give her Dai’s medicine without full payment. That she knew from experience.
Movement in the sky caught her attention, and she paused. A streak of light descended from the sky toward the landing field. Another shuttle. Ember could barely remember the last time their small coastal town had hosted so many tourists at once. Usually several days passed between groups.
She threw a quick glance in the direction of her village. Surely Dai could wait a few more minutes. If she left now, she’d miss the next group completely. Besides, their supper would consist of yesterday’s leftover bread and an old tomato. One customer, maybe two, and she could afford to pay the smuggler and buy some meat for dinner.
Ember spread the tablecloth once again and retrieved her cards, seating herself on the edge of her chair. The other sellers had noticed the incoming shuttle as well and hurriedly straightened their wares, even though it wasn’t needed. The one exception was the seed woman directly across the aisle from Ember. She sat in her usual hunched position, patiently holding her open bag of sunflower seeds. Her face was barely visible beneath the handkerchief covering the braid that indicated she was a married woman. The woman had been dozing practically since Ember’s childhood.