The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy

by Terra Whiteman

  Namah shook the report at Leid. “How is this possible?”

  “Qaira’s blood is composed of the same percentage of formed elements, plasma and serum,” she explained, not needing a recap of the events in her absence. “The only difference between them is their antibodies. Nehelians don’t have any.”

  He blinked. “No antibodies? How do they fight disease?”

  “They have antibodies, but their conformation is alien. Nehelian antibodies aren’t as specific, either. Their self-recognition is determined by factors other than cell wall antigens.”

  I had completely zoned out, allowing them to have their hardcore scientific discussion in private.

  Namah glanced at the report again, brows furrowing. “Well, it did something to Yahweh’s blood.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yahweh’s antibody concentration doubled after I mixed their blood.”

  “No immune response?”

  “No, just more antibodies. None of them attacked.”

  Leid tapped a finger against her chin. “May I see your report?”

  He gave it to her. After reading it over, Leid shook her head. “I don’t know why that happened. Nonetheless it might help Yahweh, so let’s proceed.”

  Namah retreated to his medical supply bag, retrieving a syringe and two large canisters. “Please roll up your sleeve, Regent. I’ll need at least two liters.”

  Two liters. I should have eaten something.

  The angel doctor hesitated as he saw my track marks. “How long has it been since you used?”

  My lip curled. “What business is that of yours?”

  “Your blood is going into Yahweh. Mixing surgical anesthesia with malay could be deadly.”

  “I’ve been sober for two months.”

  “Congratulations,” Namah muttered, slipping the needle into my arm.

  ***

  Leid drove me to Parliament because I could barely see straight after donating all that blood. She kept asking if I was sure that I wanted to go to work, but I had too many meetings to stay home. There was only one Regent now.

  Then she’d offered to take over my duties for the day, but I wanted her to stay at the medical facility in case something happened.

  Walking in a zig-zag to my office, I was expecting half a dozen voicemails, piles of past-due paperwork, and perhaps several disapproving glances from my secretaries who were waiting on me. But those expectations faded when I saw my brother standing right outside my door, arms crossed.

  I froze halfway in the hall. He glared at me.

  “You kill three of our men?” demanded Ara.

  I sighed, pushing by him to unlock the door. “They almost killed my hostage.”

  “We kill angels all the time. You chose an angel over three of your own?”

  “Ara, enough. I’m not feeling well.”

  “I don’t fucking care. Do you have any idea how this looks?”

  “Close the door.”

  He stepped inside, doing as I instructed.

  “How does it look?” I said. “That kid is vital for our project and your men risked everything for a little revenge.”

  “But did you really have to kill them?”

  No, I didn’t really have to kill them, but seeing Yahweh on the floor like that had sparked something in me that I wasn’t able to describe. Ara wouldn’t understand. “They acted against my orders. I didn’t have a choice. I’ve killed many, many people who have gotten in my way; this isn’t any different, Ara.”

  “This is different, Qaira,” Ara said with narrowed eyes, leaning over my desk. “That attack at the ceremony has gotten everyone riled. When word gets out that you killed three enforcers to save a little angel boy, it will cause an outrage. You could lose all credibility!”

  “You’re the Commandant now. Cover it up.”

  “The soldiers already know. I can’t cover that up; you left their bodies in the Commons for everyone to see!”

  I looked away, too tired to talk anymore. “Whatever. I have to get to work.”

  He ignored my want of silence. “All three of those men lost their families in the attack. The soldier whose head you exploded all over the Commons lost is wife and son.”

  “And you lost Ceram,” I said. “But you weren’t there with them, beating a helpless kid to death in some pointless form of absolution. We will have our revenge, but not like this. If Yahweh dies, we have no chance of exterminating the angels.”

  Ara’s face changed. “I’ve heard rumors of you visiting that kid every day for hours. That true?”

  “What I do is none of your business.”

  “So it is true. You like that white kid. You killed our men out of sentiment.”

  I slammed my fist on the desk, snarling. “Get out of my office, Ara, before I throw you out!”

  Surprisingly, Ara didn’t even flinch. Instead he smiled. “You really think you can?”

  His challenge might have been amusing, had I not donated nearly half my blood supply an hour ago. But it was then when I noticed the state of decline Ara was in; his pale skin, blood shot eyes framed by dark bags, and when he got close enough I caught the faint aroma of stale booze and body odor. Ceram’s death had destroyed him.

  “You look like shit,” I said. “Cool it with the drinking. You’re acting insane.”

  “I’m acting like you.”

  “I don’t waste my money on cheap whores and liquor every night. What would Ceram think if she saw you now?”

  And that had done it. My brother lunged across the desk and punched me in the face. It came as a surprise, even more so as my chair flew backward with me in it, and I slammed my head on the window sill.

  “Don’t try to change the subject, you fucking white sympathizer!” he screamed.

  I stumbled to my feet, throwing the chair aside. Blood trickled down the corner of my mouth and I wiped it away. “You fucking—”

  Ara grabbed my desk lamp and swung it at me. I ducked, kicking the desk outward and it slammed him in the groin. He fell forward and I grabbed his collar, tossing him sideways. He slid across my desk and hit the floor next to Leid’s armchair.

  We became entwined like a ball, rolling along the floor exchanging punches. I snuck my knee in between us and heaved him over me. Ara was sent head first into the wall. He stayed down.

  I sat up with a wince, finding my brother crumpled in the corner. He lay on his side holding his face, sobbing.

  My anger faded. “Ara?”

  “She’s gone!” he cried. “But I still see her everywhere! I can’t sleep because I relive that night in my dreams! I… I don’t know if I can live without her!”

  I glanced at the door. A group of personnel had gathered around the window, watching us with looks of terrified awe. They dispersed the moment I spotted them.

  “Ara, stop crying.”

  He didn’t, curling tighter in the corner.

  I leaned against the armchair, watching my brother fall apart. It took me back to the night of my father’s death. “It’s supposed to feel like this,” I said. “It gets better.”

  “How would you know?” he exclaimed. “You’ve never lost someone who—” His mouth stopped abruptly, revelation filling up his eyes. Ara looked at the ground, ashamed. “Oh.”

  Even though that had hurt, it stopped his crying.

  Silence. We just sat there.

  “I don’t even remember our mother,” Ara whispered, wiping his eyes.

  I didn’t respond.

  “Do you?” he asked.

  “A little,” I mumbled. “Bits and pieces.”

  “.. Do you remember doing it?”

  I shook my head, but that was a lie. It was still as clear as yesterday. “You need to stop drinking and get back to your routine. It’s the only path to recovery.”

  Ara looked at the ground again. “I didn’t mean to call you a white sympathizer.”

  “I know.”

  My office was trashed. Files scattered everywhere, a tipped
cabinet, and my desk chair was upside down with a wheel spinning. Both of our noses were bleeding and I grabbed a box of tissues that had fallen off my desk. I handed one to him.

  As we wiped our noses, we began to laugh. This wasn’t the first time that we’d scrapped. Probably wasn’t the last, either. “Remember when I held you down in the yard at school and shoved dirt in your mouth?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I came home and threw a door handle at your head.”

  “How did you get that door handle?”

  “You locked me out of my room and I pulled it off trying to break in.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I missed you and made a hole in the wall. Dad was pissed.”

  “That was the first time he swore at us.”

  “He called us shit birds.”

  We laughed again.

  I glanced at my watch. “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “The Board of Commerce will be here in fifteen minutes. Help me clean up, and fast.”

  XXII

  CLARITY

  THE SURGERY WAS A SUCCESS.

  Namah, Leid, along with a team of six Nehelian surgeons managed to stop the internal bleeding, and Yahweh was announced stable after an eight hour procedure. He was moved out of the critical care ward and to the recovery ward, and although he was still unconscious, I was told that he would recover very quickly. Without me, Yahweh would have died from blood loss during the surgery.

  I had saved the life of an Archaean by giving him half of my blood. Never saw that one coming.

  I never saw any of this coming, actually. What would my year-ago self think if someone told him that his first serious relationship would be with an alien librarian who could beat him in an arm wrestle, and a favorite past time would become playing chess with an endearing angel kid?

  Leid had fallen asleep on me half an hour ago. She had been sitting on my lap explaining everything that had happened while I was at work, but she—like me—hadn’t gotten any sleep in over twenty-four hours. It wasn’t long before she’d cozied up on my chest and dozed off. My arm was going numb, but I let her sleep. One of us had to, at least.

  I waited for Namah to return with an update, Leid’s shallow breaths grazing my ear.

  After several minutes the angel physician returned, glancing over Yahweh’s chart. He noticed us sitting there and gave me an awkward look. “Still stable. His pulse is getting stronger and I predict he’ll wake up sometime tomorrow. You might as well go home.”

  “In a little while,” I said.

  Nodding, Namah sat in the chair on the other side of Yahweh’s bed. He looked tired, too. There was a moment of silence as he watched Leid sleep, before he said, “She seems to like you.”

  “Yeah,” I said, resisting a shrug.

  “Yahweh seems to like you as well. I’m still trying to understand the appeal.”

  I gave him an unamused look, but Namah was smiling.

  “You called Leid something earlier today,” I began, and he tilted his head. “Something other than a scholar.”

  “Vel’Haru?”

  “Yeah. What is that?”

  “That’s the name of their race. They call themselves scholars to try to cover up their stained reputation. Scholar is just a title.”

  “Stained reputation?” I whispered, fearing she might hear us.

  “We aren’t supposed to talk about it. Let’s just say that their previous endeavors weren’t quite as diplomatic.”

  “What’s their purpose? Leid said it was to learn of the Multiverse.”

  “That’s kind of true, but that’s more of an umbrella reasoning. They stake claim in worlds that could benefit their own. They offer their services in exchange for things they need.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Food, drink, a lot of chemical substances—depending on the world and how skilled its inhabitants are at making them—literature, fossil resources, stuff like that. What did your scholar ask for?”

  “I don’t know. Her deal was with the Eye of Akul, and they’re dead.”

  “Well I’d be careful, considering she’s taken a fancy to you.”

  My stare hardened. “Meaning?”

  “You might be the bargaining chip.”

  I didn’t reply, confused.

  “Yahweh’s brother isn’t with us anymore because he was taken by one of them five hundred years ago, just a little while before Felor collapsed. The scholar who was contracted to help our leaders negotiated for the general’s oldest son.”

  “What did he do with him?”

  “Turned him, made him into a slave.”

  “Turned?”

  Namah smiled. “The Vel’Haru have their nobles and then they have their slaves, which they call guardians. The nobles are true Vel’Haru, but they have the power to assimilate other races into their own. They become a weaker version of the nobles, sworn to protect and serve them until the day they die.”

  “What is his brother’s name?”

  “Ixiah Telei. His noble is Calenus Karim.”

  My confusion melted away. Now everything made sense. Leid didn’t want me to hurt Yahweh because he was related to another scholar. I could only imagine how much trouble she’d get into if Ixiah found out she had imprisoned his little brother. “Is Leid a noble?”

  “No.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because they have a certain look, and she doesn’t.”

  “So she has a noble, too?”

  “She does, yes. But if what Ixiah told me is true, her noble is dead.”

  Leid stirred, and our conversation ended. She didn’t wake up, but that had been a reminder that talking about these things in the presence of a scholar could prove dangerous.

  ***

  We made it home a little while later, passing on dinner because we were too tired to eat. All either of us wanted to do was sleep forever.

  Once in bed, we got a second wind and had sex, but it was clumsy and rushed. Leid fell asleep on my shoulder soon after and even though I was exhausted, I just laid there and stared at the ceiling. My conversation with Namah came to mind.

  He’d implied that her kind weren’t what she said they were, not entirely. I didn’t know how much I could trust his word, considering he was an enemy and might be trying to plant a seed of doubt. And even if they were barbaric monsters who used people’s lives as bargaining chips, she wasn’t like that. She couldn’t be. I didn’t know the whole picture so I wouldn’t cast any judgment. Not like I was the shining paradigm of kindness anyway.

  Leid slept in my room more often than not these days. We no longer tried to hide our relationship from my family and at times even slipped in public without giving it much thought. We were getting serious. I’d never been in a serious relationship until now, and I liked it. I liked being with her. More than liked. I’d never told her I loved her—I just wasn’t that kind of guy—but I was starting to think that I did.

  And that was a problem, because Leid wasn’t here to stay. We had nine years and four months left together—maybe less than that if we won the war, and then she would leave. I would never see her again.

  Kill Lucifer Raith or keep Leid Koseling.

  I never thought I’d be at this crossroad.

  XXIII

  INFLUENCE

  IT WAS ONE O’CLOCK AND I WAS SITTING WITH two representatives from the Sanctum Education Division. They were looking at me like I was the biggest asshole ever because I just told them they weren’t allowed to hold their annual fundraiser. That was how most of my days were spent; people looking at me like I was an asshole. All part of the job.

  “With all due respect, Regent,” the one on the right began, “we’ve held this fundraiser every year.”

  “It’s not a fundraiser. It’s public disturbances and absolute mayhem.”

  Every year the universities across Sanctum held fundraising festivals, where students entertained the public with terrible theatre acts and musical performances.
The problems lay with the fact that they sold alcohol at these fundraisers, which resulted in drunken fights fueled by school rivalries. Sanctum police were called down every time they were held.

  Not to mention we had to shut down five blocks on Main Street, causing horrendous traffic and equally angry drivers who wanted to go home for the weekend. And the trash that was left all over the streets after these events made Upper Sanctum look post-apocalyptic.

  “What do you want us to do?” the one on the left asked. “Our schools need money, and since you refused our tax cuts—”

  “Instead of holding all your fundraisers in the same few days, why don’t you arrange for an entire month of fundraising, held each weekend at Fadja Memorial Park?”

  The representatives blinked at me.

  “If we don’t do it all at once, the event loses its momentum. People will stop coming by the second week,” argued the one on the right.

  “I’m not letting you do it all at once. It’s a disaster every time.”

  “It’s not a disaster! We raised three hundred thousand usos last year!”

  “And we probably spent that much cleaning up the mess you left!”

  They fell silent, knowing that when I raised my voice it was best to keep their mouths shut. My eyes wandered to the door. Where was Leid? She was better at handling this kind of shit than I was. “Four weeks of fundraising at the Memorial Park. Bring your best acts and you’ll pull in a crowd. That’s my only offer.”

  Thankfully, my phone rang before they could protest. “I need to take this,” I lied. “I’ll have the Engagements Committee contact you first thing tomorrow.”

  They shuffled out, crestfallen and muttering. I picked up the receiver.

  “Yes?”

  “Is this Regent Qaira Eltruan?”

  “Well, you called his private office number so I’d hope so.”

  “This is Dr. Sterin Razh from Eroqam Medical Facility. I was told to call this number if there were any changes in Yahweh Telei’s condition.”

  “Correct.”

  “Yahweh Telei is awake and has been asking for you.”

  I was already reaching for my briefcase. Luckily I didn’t have any other appointments this afternoon. “Thank you. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”