The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy

by Terra Whiteman

  “I never thought you were stupid,” she said, frowning. “What degree did you get instead?”

  “Two. Linguistics and Military Philosophy.”

  “I suppose that makes sense. Is education a requirement for military personnel?”

  “No, but it is for people in office.”

  “Ah.”

  “So, you’re pretty much saying that the only way to get to other universes is by taking one of those tears?”

  “Pretty much, yes.”

  “Are you immortal?”

  Leid smiled, amused. “No one is immortal, Qaira. It defies the laws of the multiverse.”

  “How do you find these tears?”

  “We can see them.”

  “Can I see them?”

  “No. Lesser beings aren’t able to detect resonance shifts like we can.”

  “Lesser beings.”

  “I don’t mean that in a quality way. That’s just what we call everyone who isn’t one of us.”

  “Where’s the tear in Sanctum?”

  “A few blocks from Eroqam.”

  I flew into the parking lot of Sanctum Parliament. Pulling my keys from the ignition and snatching my briefcase, I opened the door but Leid grabbed my arm.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing the sudden change in my mood.

  “It’s nothing,” I sighed. “I just…”

  She tilted her head, waiting.

  “This whole time I’ve been amazed by how alike we are. But now I know that we aren’t alike at all.”

  Leid reached over, cupping the side of my face.

  “That isn’t true,” she whispered. “We’re very much alike, you and I.”

  I froze, having not expected her to do that, and my eyes stayed on her lips as she spoke. Despite what she just said, there was something about Leid that was unlike that of any other Nehelian woman I’d ever known. She made me weak.

  She made me weak, and I liked it.

  Leid’s eyes moved to the clock. “Shoot, you’re late.”

  Without another word she slipped out of the craft. After a second of confused silence, I followed her.

  * * *

  Meetings, meetings and more meetings.

  Just when I promised I’d kill myself if I had to stare at another politician’s face, it was lunch time. But I wasn’t hungry, I was craving.

  It happened every so often, usually when I thought about malay. I made myself as busy as I could, but sometimes the thought still managed to sneak in.

  My hands were shaking as I pushed aside the files on my desk. I told my secretary I’d be out of the office for an hour, and then I glanced at Leid. Half her face was hidden behind the ugly plant I was forced to keep because my sister had bought it for my birthday. She was writing something in my schedule, having taken it upon herself to become my personal assistant. Which was fine by me, since I didn’t have to pay her.

  Then again the amount of wine Leid drank in a week could have covered someone’s salary. I didn’t know if I could call her an alcoholic, though, since she never actually got drunk.

  As I moved to the door, she looked up. “Lunch already?”

  “Yeah, are you coming?”

  “I’m not really hungry today.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. I’d gotten used to her joining me for lunch. “Want to come anyway?”

  She smiled. “Will you miss my company?”

  I glanced away, uncomfortable. “No, I just don’t want you alone in my office for an hour. Who knows what you’ll get into?”

  Leid laughed. “Where are we going?”

  * * *

  Ciala was Upper Sanctum’s favorite lunch hour restaurant.

  Usually we ate in Parliament’s cafeteria, but I was feeling pretty cagey and wanted to get out for a while.

  The customer line wasn’t massive since we missed rush hour. Leid and I stood amid other Nehelians decorated with fancy suits, briefcases and portable computers, and I watched the scenery shift from full-scale windows that surrounded the restaurant. Another attractive feature of this place was that it rotated atop a twenty story high-rise. People ate to a pretty view.

  During the day Sanctum didn’t seem so ugly, but I knew that façade better than anyone. Upper Sanctum was a corporate district; only twenty-five percent of the population could actually afford to live here. Lower Sanctum housed seventy-five percent of our residents— prostitutes, junkies, and all the other naturally-unfortunates, packed into a ghetto like old shoes into a moldy storage box.

  We could paint a pretty picture all we like; reality was cold and cruel. Sanctum was falling, and there was nothing I could do about it. Not yet. First, I had to get rid of the angels.

  Leid and I sat across from one another in a booth. I ate my lunch while Leid stared jadedly out at Fadja Memorial Park. I watched her, chewing.

  “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

  “No, but thank you.”

  Leid removed her white coat, laying it on the cushion beside her. She rested her arms on the table, idly running her fingers across her black mesh, elbow-length gloves. Her fashion sense was eccentric, but somehow it worked.

  “Would you like to practice your violin later?”

  “If I have time. I’m running the enforcer drill tonight.”

  “It seems like you need it, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re shaking.”

  Shame on me for thinking she wouldn’t notice. “I’m fine, and I said we’ll see.”

  “So, what did you think about this morning’s education tax-cut conundrum?”

  “Yeah, because I totally want to talk about work while I’m on lunch.”

  “Do you have anything else to talk about?”

  “Eroqam barely taxes education as is. Even the early academia teachers make a decent living. I’m not cutting taxes.”

  Leid arched a brow. “You think thirty-two thousand usos a year is a decent living?”

  “It’s better than what the other half of Sanctum lives on.”

  “The other half of Sanctum is below the poverty line.”

  I put my sandwich down, glaring at her. “Why are you trying to take a stab at me? What have I done now?”

  “I’m just asking you a question. I’m not trying to start an argument. I want you to explain your opinion.”

  “My opinion on tax-cuts is irrelevant. You’re taking little jabs at me because you don’t agree with the way I run this city.”

  “You’re right, I don’t.”

  “Well that’s too bad. You’re here to advise me on the war; not tax-cuts.”

  “Could you live on a thirty-two thousand uso salary?”

  Good-fucking-grief.

  “Eroqam brings in more than four million usos a year,” she went on.

  “Half of which goes to our army and technology,” I said.

  “And the other two million?”

  “Employee salaries, insurance… look at me, Leid. I drive to work every day in a standard craft, I wait in line with commoners at lunch. I don’t live a grandeur life. I might be the richest man in Sanctum, but in reality I’m not that richer than my subjects. You’re the one buying hundred uso bottles of wine in bulk.”

  Leid smiled, shifting her attention to the window. The smile was a taunt, like she was saying I was full of shit. I was starting to wish I’d left her at my office.

  Then I looked out at the city as well, losing myself in the scenery. I thought about absolutely nothing, and it was such a relief. The food had calmed my nerves, and my craving was gone. I was relieved for that, too.

  “Qaira,” I heard Leid call, but at first I couldn’t refocus my gaze. “Qaira.”

  I looked at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. Her stare was directed behind me, at the televised screen above the serving table. I turned, following her eyes. A news report was being broadcasted, one with a headline that read:

  COMMANDANT QAIRA ELTRUAN: SAVIOR OR TYRANT?


  I reread the headline several times, my heart sinking into my stomach.

  A news anchor was speaking to the head chairman of Sanctum’s Department of Social Affairs, Lev Gia. He’d been in office as long as my father, and I could still recall all the parties he’d ever attended in the Regent’s name.

  “The level of authority that our Regent has is obsolete,” he was saying. “His son is running the show behind the scenes, twisting Sanctum in order to carry out his own machinations.”

  “Machinations?” asked the news anchor.

  “Everything that the Commandant is doing refutes his father’s method of ruling. The Sanctum Enforcers and our guards are ignoring the very laws that they created. Qalam Eltruan is infirm, that we all know, but ever since his leave we’ve had a twenty percent spike in poverty and violent crime. Qaira Eltruan has cut programs for malay addicts and aid for low income citizens. He’s placed almost the entirety of Sanctum’s money into its militia, which he uses to slaughter angel refugees and silence peaceful protests for their freedom. His father spent years striving for peace, and in less than a decade we are right back to where we started. Qaira Eltruan’s war on the Archaeans isn’t a Sanctum-supported war. It almost seems like it’s personal. We’ve practically deified him because of his tendency for violence.”

  I looked around the restaurant. Everyone was staring at me.

  “Leid,” I whispered, “get up. We’re leaving.”

  She was out of her seat before I finished my sentence. We escaped Ciala as a recording of the Crylle raid blared on the screen. Ariel Triev’s screams filtered into the reception area, and I heard myself:

  “If I have to say it again then you’re going to end up like that angel bitch!”

  The raid had been a confidential matter. Someone had secretly recorded it and handed the recording to the press. The insurgent was in Eroqam, indubitably.

  The backlash of that report was going to be severe, but all I could think about was how Tae and my father were going to take this. That video was going to destroy me.

  The elevator ride was silent. Leid stared at me with concern, but she didn’t dare speak. She knew me well enough by now to know when I had a certain look in my eyes, it was best to stay quiet.

  By the time we reached the main floor, I’d come up with a plan. Hopefully the report hadn’t been aired all morning, but I doubted it or else someone would have told me at Parliament. It was lunch time, but not every Nehelian was eating lunch right now, and not everyone had access to a television.

  The media wanted to call me a tyrant? Fine, I’d give them a tyrant.

  I reached for my radio as we climbed into my craft. “Ara, come in.”

  “Qaira, have you seen the fucking news?!”

  “Yes. I have a job for you and the others. Head down to Sanctum Public Broadcast and confiscate that recording. Arrest the people involved in that news report. Do it quietly. Make sure you take any copies they may have made.”

  “…Can we do that?”

  “They just publicized confidential government property. That’s technically treason, Lt. Eltruan.”

  “Good enough reason for me. We’re on our way.”

  When I severed the link, Leid was glaring at me.

  I glared back. “Please, say something. I’d love to hear your fucking insight right now.”

  She only looked away, shaking her head.

  Our trip to Parliament was silent.

  When we got back, Leid vacated the craft without a word. I lingered in the driver seat, watching her disappear into the lobby. As the door shut, I grabbed my radio again.

  “Lt. Geiss, come in.”

  “Commandant,” said Garan. We hadn’t spoken since I nearly beat Uless to death. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m about to give you and Lt. Fedaz an opportunity to redeem yourselves.”

  “Go ahead, Commandant.”

  I’d had to face dozens of hard decisions within the short time since I’d risen to office, and this wouldn’t be the worst thing I had ever done. I knew that. But eventually these kinds of things weighed you down; took little bites out of your soul.

  And they were getting harder and harder each time.

  * * *

  Late that evening, I returned home with blood all over my hands.

  It was long past dinner, and I hoped I could sneak to my room and take a shower before anyone saw me. Unfortunately nothing ever seemed to go as I hoped. As soon as I darted past the dining room, I heard:

  “Qaira, is that you?” Tae.

  I covered my hands with my briefcase as she peeked into the hall. She seemed normal enough, which meant she hadn’t seen the broadcast.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Why are you so late?”

  “Drill.”

  “Oh, right.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. I’d cancelled drill, but no one knew that. Including Leid.

  My sister disappeared into the kitchen. “I left a plate in the oven.”

  “I’ll be there in a second. I really need a shower.”

  “Long day?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  The shower felt good, and I closed my eyes as near-scalding water beat against my back. I lowered my head and watched the blood run from my knuckles and down my forearms in thin, pink streams. My hands stung from the water, but the pain felt kind of good.

  I dressed casually and headed back to the dining room, where my plate awaited me at the table next to a glass of wine. I watched my sister scrub a pot through the open doorway, and a smile spread across my lips. In many ways, she reminded me of our mother. At least what I could remember of her.

  “I forgot to tell you,” she said as I ate. “Leid went to check on the military craft progress, whatever that means, and she said she would meet you for practice at nine.”

  “Okay.”

  “What are you two practicing?”

  I hesitated, wiping my mouth. I didn’t want to tell her because she’d make a big deal of it, but I had done enough lying for one day. “She’s teaching me how to play the violin.”

  Tae froze, looking at me in disbelief. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Qaira, that’s wonderful!”

  “… Is it?”

  “I’m sorry; I’m just so happy to hear you found a hobby. Music runs in the family, after all.”

  So did murder. “Leid thinks it’ll take the edge off my job.”

  Tae sat beside me, placing a cup of steaming tea next to my wine. Apparently she was trying to make me piss all night. “Is it working?”

  “I don’t know. We just started.”

  “I’m glad you’re growing fond of her.”

  “Uh, what?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Well if you mean we aren’t at each other’s throats any more, then yes.”

  My sister rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to be so defensive about it. I only meant the two of you seem to be getting along better.”

  I finished eating and Tae stood to grab my plate. I stood as well.

  “Here,” she said, reaching for it. “Let me take—”

  I held it away from her. “No, you’ve done enough. Sit down.”

  She sat, reluctantly. “Where’s Ara? Isn’t drill finished?”

  I rinsed off the plate and placed it into a cabinet over the sink. “He stayed back with Garan and Uless.” To clean up all the blood. “He’ll be here shortly.”

  There was a noise from the living room. Then we heard:

  “Arcia! Arcia! Why didn’t you wake me? I’m going to be late for work!”

  My father had fallen asleep on the couch again.

  “I need to take him to bed,” Tae murmured, rolling her eyes.

  I didn’t say anything, only nodded. Arcia.

  Wrapping the woolen frock around her shoulders, Tae slipped into the living room and I was left staring after her with a hollow feeling in my gut. I drained the wine but left the tea and
reached for my briefcase, but then paused when I realized I wasn’t going to work. Instead I slipped through the door and down the hall, toward the music room.

  I was late; Leid had started without me.

  I watched her play from the doorway. Head down, eyes closed, lips pursed seductively. Her fingers danced along the board and the bow glided across the strings.

  And then I realized that I didn’t deserve to be here, in her presence, surrounded by all of this beauty. I didn’t deserve the happiness I felt. And if only Leid knew who—no, what—I really was, I was sure that she’d feel the same.

  “Qaira.”

  I looked at her, and she smiled.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  XII

  WORTHY OPPONENTS

  LEID SLID THE NEEDLE INTO MY ARM with as much precision as a blind knife thrower. I jerked, and she blew a vein.

  “Fuck!”

  “It would be a lot easier to do this if you’d stop moving.”

  “I’m moving because you’re gouging out my arm!”

  “You’re so dramatic.”

  “I’m going to have a bruise the size of a continent!”

  She got it right on the third try. “There. Sorry.”

  I closed my eyes as euphoria took over. It only lasted a minute. When I was fully-functional again, I headed to my closet and started pulling out some clothes for this morning. Leid watched me in my full-length mirror.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Your ink is fading again.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m going to fill it for you tonight.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I headed to the shower room, leaving her on my bed.

  An hour later we were headed to Parliament. I switched the radio frequency to Sanctum’s Public Broadcast, waiting for the inevitable. When Leid tried to switch it to music, I swatted her hand away. Several minutes later, the report came:

  “Yesterday night, at approximately eleven o’clock, the body of Chairman Lev Gia was found in his aero-craft at an abandoned storage facility in Lower Sanctum.”

  I feigned surprise, turning up the volume.

  “Reports show that he was severely beaten and shot multiple times. The Sanctum authorities have deemed this a drug-related homicide, as two cartridges of malay, along with malay paraphernalia were found on the body.”