by A. J. Ross
At that moment, Kiina’s chest began to turn a warm blue. She recognized him. Her eyes were glued to his face which had been much rounder in her memories. No doubt, this was the same boy who had stood before all Graiis and fought for man’s right to live. She leaned towards Grisian and spoke briefly in their language. His eyes locked onto Lincoln, and his chest began to change to the same blue that was in hers. Now Grisian knew who he was. They both knew.
“When I have made a decision,” Grisian said, “I will inform you. You may go.”
Lincoln bowed his head respectfully before leaving the room.
Once he was out, he began to wonder. Both Grisian and Kiina had recognized him. Was that a good thing? He hadn’t even been asked to present his petition. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up stealing his mother’s clearance to sneak into Kymurii. The Grii were very strict when it came to humans and Griician laws, and Lincoln had just admitted to breaking them. He made his way home feeling not quite rejected, but not quite successful either. All he could do was hope for the best, and prepare himself for the worst . . .
“We really only have one rule,” Raymond said. “What we discuss in this room, beyond ideas for petition submissions, does not leave this room. Sometimes we are privileged to sensitive information concerning Griicio-human relations, and we have to maintain confidentiality. Gentleman, join me in welcoming Mr. Wolfe, our newest official member of the HLEC. Welcome to the council.”
Lincoln smiled as the guys began to cheer and pound the table at Raymond’s announcement. He was glad he had decided to join the council. True, it had only been to obtain citizenship, but now that he was there among his peers it felt right. He looked around the table. Most of the guys he already knew from school, but there were a few he didn’t know. They were chatting, whispering, laughing and joking with each other. Lincoln could see the respect and admiration they had for each other, and even more so towards Mr. Arthur. It was like being back in class. Logan was still the right hand, and Raymond was still the most intelligent man Lincoln had ever encountered. He was home.
“Let’s get down to business,” Raymond continued, “First of all, let’s all thank Shang for joining us today. He has been doing some work in technological development of a leisure carrier on the base, Continent B.”
All the heads at the table nodded. Lincoln hadn’t heard Shang was with military operations. He was impressed but not surprised. Shang had always been the smartest.
“Shang is going to discuss the possible complications associated with going off planet,” Raymond continued. “Please take notes, because many of the things he will draw attention to today will likely be questions Grisian will ask on petition day, and we need to be prepared.”
Lincoln furrowed his brow as Shang began to speak. He hadn’t been brought up to speed on where the council was with this year’s petition, or exactly what it was they were petitioning. Were they trying to convince Grisian to allow them to go off planet? If so, for what? Where would they go? Kayora? Delu? He knew they had not advanced their technology enough to create their own spacecraft.
He made himself focus, listening carefully to the questions of his comrades, and soon became engrossed in the discussion and possibility of going off planet. The council mulled over and discussed obstacles and solutions at length for several hours, and the time flew by.
Lincoln saw two Griician women outside of his house from almost a half a mile away. He knew their tall slender physiques and transparent skin. But why were they at his house? First he started to jog lightly, which didn’t take him where he wanted to go fast enough though, so he began to run. His fast pace down the dirt road caught their attention, and they both turned to watch him. He reached them panting for air.
They examined him, and one of them spoke,
“You are Lincoln Wolfe, yes?”
He nodded, trying to catch his breath. The two women had come in Grisian’s main Chariot. Lincoln recognized it because he had seen Braii exit the city in it many times.
The other woman spoke, “You have been called to a meeting with Lord Grisian. We are to escort you into his company at once.”
Lincoln looked over at his mother. She stood in front of the house with both concern and confusion on her face. He nodded in her direction, “I’ll be fine mom. I promise, I’ll be back soon.”
He climbed into the chariot with the two Griician women, and left for the palace. One of them stood at the front or the car with her eyes focused directly in front of her, while the other looked casually over the side. Lincoln’s stomach was aflutter with a million butterflies. His hopes were sky high as he considered the possibility he might be the one who is chosen as a husband for Braii. He clenched tightly to the rails inside of the chariot. The horses ran at an unbelievably fast pace, and the world was a blur of streaks of color. The gates began to open as the chariot approached. It sailed into the city without ever losing speed.
When they arrived at the palace, he was escorted back to the throne room. This time, Grisian was on his feet and speaking with General Tsamiit. Lincoln stopped in his tracks the moment he saw her. He knew exactly who she was. She was the leader of the Fiie Army. He had seen her at the Sword Nation petition. She had enforced Grisian’s command to execute everyone who had not been born on Graiis.
Her eyes landed on him, focusing directly on his face. He swallowed the lump of fear that had formed in his throat, but did not move. He kept his eyes on her, mostly because he didn’t know where else to look. She was a terrifying sight, yet hauntingly beautiful. Unlike the other Grii, Lincoln could not see the color of the light in her chest. Her skin was as black as night, and her long thick hair was powder white with small traces of orange at the roots. She stood almost seven feet tall, and her body was lean and defined. She didn’t have the same orange color in her eyes that was common for the Grii, instead they were as white as her hair. Her black skin was sprinkled with white symbols that looked to be archaic Agaan, the written language of the Grii, on both her face and body.
She wore the most beautiful black-steel armor, barely visible under her soft flowing gown made of see-through black material. She had the same delicate feminine harness Kiina wore about her upper body, and it seemed to blend right into her sensuous evening-like attire. She had one Fiie holstered at her left shoulder blade, and another at the right.
“Lincoln Wolfe.”
Lincoln jumped at the sound of Grisian’s voice. “Let me introduce you to the Kaziik Tsamiit.”
Lincoln fell to his knee in front of the general as soon as Grisian had introduced her. He kept his eyes on the ground.
She looked at him. When hearing his name, she knew who he was too. She addressed him, “You are the son of John Wolfe, yes? And I am merely a General. Bow only to your King.”
Lincoln stood quickly, but did not lift his face enough to see her. He thought it strange she knew his father’s name, and wondered if she remembered the names of all the men whom she had slain that day in the stadium.
After Grisian excused the General, Lincoln raised his eyes and watched her exit the room with such fluidity to her steps, it was as if her feet never touched the ground.
“Well now,” Grisian said, “Let us address the matter at hand. Will you marry my daughter?”
Lincoln’s eyes grew wide. He looked at Grisian whose chest now glowed a soft pink.
“Yes,” Lincoln replied without hesitation, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Of course.”
“Good,” Grisian continued, “because I have found you may perhaps be the most suitable. Yet, I do have one request.”
“Anything,” Lincoln replied.
“I do know it is a significant part of the human experience to, as you say, fall in Love. I will not deprive my child of any part of that, as she is after all human. You will marry in six weeks’ time, but until then, you are to cause her to fall in Love with you. I will allow you to meet with her as is customary in human courtship rituals, and you must convince her you are suitabl
e. I do not know what these things involve, but I trust you are well aware.”
Lincoln nodded. His cheeks flooded with color as he thought about the many casual encounters he had shared with various girls at school. Of course, this was not what Grisian was referring to, but the very notion of being with Braii in such a way had sent his imagination soaring. Grisian had just asked him to court her and make her fall in love with him.
“Congratulations my son,” Grisian held out his hand to Lincoln, “. . . and Welcome.”
Kiina came into Braii's room and shut the door behind her. “I have news,” she said. “Grisian has found you a husband.”
Braii just nodded. She had been expecting the news. “Who is it?” she asked unenthusiastically.
“A man named Lincoln. When he was a boy, he argued the value of his kind, and impressed Grisian. He would come into the city back then, I suspect, to see you.”
“He’s a child,” she exclaimed.
“Not anymore,” Kiina contested. “He has obtained Griician citizenship, and is now by law a man.”
Braii scoffed.
“Should I tell Grisian you are unhappy with his decision?” she asked.
Braii hung her head. She looked at herself in the mirror and thought about Grisian’s promises to her. Marrying meant her freedom, and a chance to live among the humans. She didn’t know much about people in general, so she decided it didn’t matter who she married.
“No,” she replied firmly. “It’s okay. I’ll marry him.”
She sat in her room in front of the vanity undoing her braids and removing the jewels from her hair. Kiina had informed her she would see Lincoln tomorrow, and he would make her love him before the wedding. She acknowledged having little understanding of human behavior when it came to love due to her Griician upbringing, but Kiina’s words were unsettling. It was true she had agreed to marry Lincoln, but she had never agreed to love him. And did he think he would “make” her love him?
She was fond of him when he was younger, but that was a long time ago. Her fondness had long since been drowned out by the many stories of his disregard for women, his thirst for attention, not to mention his frequent visits to Griician bars. At first, she tried to dismiss them as mere gossip, but the stories kept coming. There were always new ones with similar plots; the thoughtless heartthrob leaving a trail of broken hearts. The one thing each story had in common was its leading man, Lincoln.
She knew she would need to quell her disappointment at Grisian’s choice and accept the situation. As a wife, she was prepared to do with her body what was customary for humans, but she did not consider falling in love a requirement. No one had the power to “make” her do anything, Lincoln least of all.
A huge gap made its way between Lincoln’s fantasies and reality. Courting Braii was nothing like he had expected. When he was finally reunited with her after three long years, she seemed almost disappointed to see him. Disappointed he was the one Grisian had chosen. Sure, she was kind. She never vocalized her displeasure at learning in just six weeks she would belong to him, but he could see it in her eyes. He knew her.
His confidence faltered. When he spoke to her, he found himself stammering and stuttering over his words like he had when he was fourteen. He was embarrassed and felt pathetic. He hadn’t stuttered since the slaughter in the Stadium. That day his emotions had dulled almost into non-existence, and his stuttering had vanished along with them. He had become a different person. At least, until recently.
Braii didn’t speak much, and Lincoln knew it was deliberate. She hid the shine in her eyes and the warmth of her smile deliberately depriving him of them, and he couldn’t understand why. He couldn’t recall anything in his memories that would have made her feel it was necessary to keep such a distance. The past three weeks of getting to know her had been rough, and Lincoln was discouraged. He just didn’t know how to get through to her. Grisian had given him one simple job: Make her fall in Love, but so far, he could barely get her to speak.
Frustrated by the situation, he turned to Logan, “How do I make her fall in Love with me?”
The pair stood in the usual spot, outside of the gym after their workout.
Logan laughed out loud, “How do you make her? That’s a problem right there, Wolfe. You can’t make a woman love you.”
Lincoln sighed, his eyes returning to the low middle distance in front of him. He had figured as much. Still, he had to do something. “She barely speaks to me,” he added.
Logan glanced over at him, his eyes mocking Lincoln's shameless display of sensitivity. “Listen,” he said, “You can’t make her fall in Love with you, but you can give her a reason to. You have to try to understand things from her point of view. It can’t be easy feeling like a prize at a raffle. Property of the highest bidder. And do you speak to her? Did you ask her how she feels? Women are sensitive. Sensitive, but not difficult. They just need to feel loved.”
Lincoln considered Logan’s words. He hadn’t thought about how Braii must have felt, having her life put into the hands of someone who couldn’t comprehend the basics of human emotion; no offense to his soon-to-be father-in-law. On top of that, Lincoln’s nerves had repeatedly thrown him off his usually calm demeanor. He didn’t say much when he was with her, and what he did manage to say probably came off as arrogant, because that was the way he would talk to the girls at school. At school, he was the prize. The girls would clamor over him, and he would choose.
He felt a hint of guilt deep down inside. She hadn’t had the opportunity to choose. What if the man of her dreams was someone completely different? What good was having the woman of your dreams, if she spends her life wishing you were someone else? It had never crossed his mind to ask about how she felt, or what she wanted. Maybe he was no more than a duty to her, one she would fulfill, but grudgingly.
The more he thought about his interactions with her, it became clear he had neglected to show her any real affection. His actions and words had been empty because he was playing it safe. Talking about things that made him seem like more of a man, like being on the council. When he was uncomfortable, he would slip into his default arrogant behavior. He figured If she was going to treat him coldly, he would rather she disregard his facade, instead of the vulnerable part of him that was madly in love with her. No wonder she refused to let him in. They were both hiding. If he wanted her to see him, he couldn’t be afraid to show himself. He had to find a way to touch her, a way to make her see just how much he truly cared for her.
THREE
The One
Lincoln watched Braii. She walked down the hallway with such elegance and poise. Her eyes stayed focused in front of her, and she wore a long flowing yellow dress with several strings of gold beads raining down from the waist. The straps of the dress hung off the shoulders revealing her soft, square neckline. Her hair was done in long individual braids that were coated with a copper-colored paste, and pulled up into a ponytail, bringing the braids together to form one long-hanging spiral.
Lincoln instinctively straightened his posture as she approached him.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” she replied.
Together they walked out into Grisian’s gardens in the center of the palace. They were beautiful. Heavily sprinkled with dark red, and deep purple flowers that gave off their faint, pleasurable fragrances. The flowers were accented by the goldish yellow and brown leaves sprinkled among them. The wind moved softly, just enough to make everything feel alive. There were crawling trees that resembled reaching hands twisting and curling along the stone walls of the inner courtyard.
One of the standing trees had a small bench swing hanging from its sturdy branches. Braii sat down on it, and Lincoln sat next to her.
He sat with his fingers interlocked, and his elbows on his knees. Using his legs, he rocked the swing gently back and forth, back and forth. He glanced at Braii. Her eyes were fixed on something to the far left, or whatever was in the opposite direction
of him. He tried to speak, clearing his throat, but no words came out. Come on Lincoln, he told himself. Try again.
“Are you afraid?” he asked her, although he wasn’t sure why he had asked that particular question. If anyone was afraid, it was him. She gave him a peculiar look which unnerved him even further. “I mean,” he said quickly, “are you af-fraid of living outside the palace?”
“Afraid?” she asked, shooting him a sideways glance. “No. I’m not afraid. Are you afraid of serving on the council?”
Lincoln chuckled, “Terrified. It’s always s-s-scary when you understand how much your actions affect other people.”
“And why would that scare you?” she asked. “If you know of the power your actions hold, you can use them to do good things.”
“It’s not that simple,” he argued, “because when things don’t work out, it all comes down on you. You’re responsible." Emotion bled through his words. "You’re the monster, and the worst part about it is, you really actually try. You try, and you put everything you are into s-something and when it fails, it’s nearly impossible to recover from.”
Braii was silent. She looked at him with a scrunched brow. Obviously he would have grown over the past few years, but now he had a heaviness about him she did not remember. “Are you speaking from experience?” she asked.
Lincoln looked at her. He smirked and shrugged off the intensity he had just introduced to the conversation. He felt like his shrug was enough of a response to her question. Besides, Logan had warned him not to bear all of his feelings at once.
Braii’s mention of past experience drew one up in his mind. He couldn’t help but think about one of the most difficult parts of the petitions' aftermath. He had lost his friend Delphi. After her father was killed, she blamed the Nation for its performance. Later she blamed Lincoln’s father for being involved, accusing him of being the perpetrator of the uprising. Lastly, she blamed Lincoln. She blamed him for drinking the Mürk and getting suspended the week before the competition, and credited his absence from school as the cause of his “disappointing” performance. She blamed everyone, and due to the outcome of the situation, he could not shake within himself the possibility she was right. Maybe if he had been there and gotten more practice, he could have saved everyone.