“She has your private wave?”
“Of course. Doesn’t yours?”
“No one is permitted to call me after working hours. I may stay at work late more than a few times per week, but once I leave for the day, that’s it.”
I blinked. “What if there’s an emergency?”
“Define emergency.”
“What if someone needs to reschedule a meeting?”
“Then they can reschedule it during business hours.”
“I’d prefer leaving on time and having my secretary call me than staying late.”
Lucifer smiled. “And I prefer leaving work and not thinking about it at all.”
“… How can you not think about your job at all when you’re the Commander?”
“The angels practice work-life balance. Well, except for Yahweh. But he loves his job, so he doesn’t really count. Likewise, my title doesn’t define me. Letting your job—especially one like ours—consume your life leaves you open for attack.”
“Attack?”
“Stress, anxiety, placing your loved ones second; things like that.”
All I did was stare at him like he was talking nonsense.
Lucifer shrugged. “Agree to disagree, as always.”
“You ready to see Yema?” I asked, looking at my watch. “I suspect the press will be here any moment and I’ve got a two o’clock with Division of Health.”
He nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. For some reason how he’d done that irritated me. Everything about the angels was so… proper. Genteel, to the point that it seemed like a gross exaggeration. Moreover, prestige was always heavy in Raith’s gaze. He thought he was better than me.
The whites still saw us as savages, but now we were savages with shiny toys.
And as cordial as he was, I couldn’t forget that Lucifer was here because he didn’t trust me.
We vacated the restaurant, and Lucifer hugged his arms. This morning was colder than usual; the kind that turned your breath to steam. He’d worn a thick, tulan-fur jacket, but it didn’t look like it was helping him much. My jacket was much thinner and I wasn’t even shivering.
Having angel guests always gave us a good laugh. Even in summer they’d come dressed for an arctic expedition. They need thicker skin, my brother had said.
“I don’t know how you can endure this cold,” Lucifer muttered once we were in my craft.
“And I don’t know how you can endure that heat.”
He frowned, sipping take-away hot leio cider. “Agree to disagree, again.”
O
THE PENDULUM STARTS TO SWING
Leid Koseling—;
TODAY MARKED THE TENTH YEAR ANNIVERSARY that Qaira had set me free.
He never remembered, promising each time to mark it on his calendar, but each time he forgot. That was okay, though, because I could never forget.
And every anniversary I surprised him with lunch, showing up unannounced, and he’d get that guilty look on his face once I told him why I was there. To me, this anniversary was more important than our wedding, or birthdays. I didn’t even celebrate birthdays, as my age had been lost between time and space.
But ten years ago today, my life had been made anew. That was like a birthday, at least.
I released my students twenty minutes early and set out for Parliament, hoping to catch Qaira before lunch. My heart sank at the sight of his closed office door, the shades drawn, and the lights off. He was already gone.
But not all was lost.
His secretary, Dela, was speaking to someone on Aeon. I approached her desk, waiting for her to finish. At the sight of me she severed the call and smiled.
“Leid, good afternoon. I haven’t seen you in so long!”
“Good afternoon to you,” I said, nodding. “Has Qaira left for lunch?”
“No, he’s with Commander Raith.”
I blinked. This was the first I’d heard about Lucifer meeting with Qaira. Usually he grumbled about it for days prior. “Commander Raith is in Sanctum?”
“It’s the funniest thing,” she said, idly twirling a long, black curl. “He showed up unannounced and I overheard them talking about Yema Theater on their way out. Perhaps they’re there?”
“I’ll try there, then. Thank you, Dela.”
I returned to the port, pulling up my hood as the cold winter air bit at my cheeks. The guards at the gate nodded and held open the door, while I murmured thanks in passing. Around here, everyone knew who I was. Privacy was virtually impossible when you were married to the world’s most important man.
Aeroway traffic at midday was like morning rush hour. What should have been a ten minute drive took twenty. By the time I pulled into Yema’s vacant lot, my lunch break was nearly spent. I wouldn’t be able to eat with Qaira, but I could still give him his gift.
It was a fancy watch that had caught his eye at the Agora several weeks ago. He’d muttered something about the price—he never liked spending money, ironically enough—and walked out of the shop. But I knew he’d wanted it.
Qaira’s craft wasn’t here, either.
Someone else’s was, though.
I hopped out of my craft and was about to head toward Yema, but a group of men hurried out, carrying boxes of wires and metal cylinders. I froze, confused.
Among them was Kada Ysam, Director of Science Research. I felt my brows furrow as I tried to understand what he was doing here. Ila told me that they were refurnishing the theater for the upcoming peace ceremony, but…
As multifaceted as Kada was, a furnisher he was not.
I hid behind my craft, watching them load boxes into their own. They returned for more boxes, and I squinted, trying to see inside them. Wires, metal cylinders, keypads—;
My breath caught.
Lucifer had shown up to Sanctum unannounced, and suddenly engineers were hurrying out of Yema with boxes full of dubious content. … Could it be?
No.
No, it can’t.
Qaira was better.
He was feeling better; he’d even said so.
But then I remembered the pain in his eyes that night at Eroqam’s port. I’d thought it was because of Roen, yet another tally of Tae’s tragedy, but it might have been something deeper. Guilt.
I pulled out of the lot before they saw me, flying to Parliament. The return trip felt supersonic. All I could think about was what I’d seen—I didn’t know for certain, but I had an idea, and that idea alone filled my heart with razorblades.
Dela hadn’t moved since I left. I placed the wrapped gift box on the desk, and she looked up from her computer. “He wasn’t there?” she asked.
“No, so I’m going to leave this here. Could you give it to him when he returns?”
“Sure. I’m so sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to send you on a scavenger hunt.”
I smiled, but it was difficult. “No harm.”
Much harm.
My smile ran cold as I turned and headed to the port. Back in my office, I sat at my desk and stared at the Aeon, battling my conscience. Class should have started ten minutes ago, but I couldn’t will myself to move.
Should I pretend I hadn’t seen it? But what would be the consequence of that? Even if my assumption of what was in those boxes was wrong, could I really risk it? Who could I tell, even?
And then I knew.
I reached for a rune, dialing Ara’s office.
XVI
SAFE
YEMA WAS CLEARED FOR VIEWING.
Raith was pleased with the venue, especially its size, and talks of performances ensued. I had no idea what he’d expected to find by ambushing me in the middle of the day, but thankfully his trust was reinstated.
On our way back, Lucifer made me stop at another refreshments stand for more hot leio cider. He’d finally found something here that he could stomach. Rumors of his visit spread far enough that a group of reporters were skirting Sanctum, looking for us. They found as at that shop, and we were bombarded with cameras and questio
ns about the peace ceremony and all that it entailed. I told them I wasn’t answering questions at the moment, and a statement would be made later this week.
The reporters backed off, forced to accept my answer. They knew what happened to people who made me angry. Points for my ability—I never needed guards.
Back at Parliament, my secretary waved me over to her desk, producing a giftbox that she’d concealed inside a drawer. “Your wife was by,” she said. “Asked me to give this to you.”
I took it, puzzled, and then returned to my office. The box held a watch I’d seen at the Agora a few weeks ago, and I smirked at her perceptiveness. The watch was wrapped in a piece of paper, which read, ‘Happy Anniversary. You’ve forgotten again, but I never will.’
“Damnit,” I mumbled, remembering the date. Today was the day that the Court of Enigmus had stormed Eroqam, demanding Leid. I’d forgotten every year.
At least the mystery of the tulan steaks was cracked.
I called my secretary, requesting that she order a bouquet. I had the rest of the afternoon to think of how else to match her gift. Flowers alone wouldn’t cut it.
In the meantime, I marked our anniversary in my digital calendar, making sure I would never forget again.
O
TURBULENCE
Yahweh Telei—;
I MET WITH LUCIFER ON THEOSYNE PORT, eyebrows arched, awaiting his verdict. When he said nothing, only frowned, I pressed. “Well?”
“I’m still not sure,” he said, hushed. We walked through the court garden, passing statues and rows of flowers framed by white-picket. Our culture still called for elegance, albeit with crafts roaring overhead. “And I have a terrible stomach ache.”
“You ate the food, didn’t you? I told you not to eat the food.”
“Qaira offered, and it would have been rude to decline.”
“So what now, you ambush him again? The ceremony is in a week.”
“No, I think I’ve made it evident enough that I don’t trust him. This is delicate all around, and any further harassment might turn his offer sour. Even though I’m not completely sure the peace ceremony isn’t a rouse, there’s no choice now but to proceed.”
I hid my delight, nodding. Although I suspected Qaira wasn’t over his suspicion of us, had Lucifer found anything potentially dangerous at Yema, he would have pulled the plug immediately. Perhaps I’d been wrong, and being wrong never felt so wonderful.
My Aeon chimed, vibrating against my hip. I pulled it from my pocket and inspected the frequency. Namah, again.
“I’m needed back at the Plexus,” I said, cancelling the call. I’d speak to Dr. Ipsin in Moritoria.
“I’ll see you at home, then. I’ve got a busy afternoon ahead of me, what with chasing down our local entertainment to see who wants to volunteer in Sanctum.”
I snorted. “Have fun with that. When will you make the announcement?”
“As soon as Qaira makes his.”
We said our goodbyes and parted ways.
***
The inflammation is strange, I said, studying pictures of the chest irridigram that Nahamh had sent over. The blood tests show nothing?
Nothing, confirmed Namah. No pathogens, and every viral test I’ve performed turned up nothing either. We just received four more patients with early symptoms today. I don’t want to alarm you, but it’s starting to look like an epidemic.
I hesitated, thinking. Maybe the virus is new, or mutated. It could lie undetected in the victim’s blood.
Namah didn’t seem convinced. Still, we would have found something foreign in their blood. Viral substrates, cell wall antigens, something.
… You seem to have a theory of your own, Doctor.
Perhaps.
Let’s hear it.
Allergies.
To what?
Don’t know, but it makes sense. The body is issuing an immune response to something foreign, but if there isn’t a pathogen, it could be an allergen.
We’ve been here ten years, the refugees even longer. Why now?
Can’t say, but I think it’s a good place to start looking.
I hesitated, thinking again, Very well. Refer your sickest patients to the Plexus and I’ll round up my clinicians here. Once the peace ceremony is dealt with, we’ll start preparing for an experimental treatment.
Sounds fine. Talk to you soon.
I removed my finger from the rune and looked jadedly out my office window. Moritoria didn’t provide much scenery—or color—but the bleak, gray world beyond was surprisingly ataractic. As calm as I acted toward Namah, the issue was very alarming.
Lucifer didn’t know yet, as with everything else happening right now the last thing he needed to worry about was an epidemic. I would tell him when the time was right. If Namah and I could figure out the cause and eradicate the threat, maybe I wouldn’t have to tell him at all.
I pulled out my chessboard and set up the pieces, playing against myself. The stress was almost crippling, and I needed a clear head to devise an experimental trial. Keeping part of my brain occupied with a game tended to soothe me.
Sanctum PB news was still on my televised screen. I hadn’t changed it since Qaira’s statement. The Nehelian broadcast station was only accessible to certain places around Heaven—never the commoners—just as Crylle news broadcasts were made available to Eroqam and Parliament. It was our way of practicing the no secrets between us clause of our alliance.
Nothing paramount had happened since his statement. No one had died, or been murdered. Still, I kept the channel running in case the turbulence persisted.
Most of the talk was about the peace ceremony. Apparently the Nehelians were very excited about it, already lining up at Yema Theater to access tickets to the event, even though Qaira had yet to announce it. Their want of peace made me smile.
I wondered what kind of acts Lucifer would bring to Sanctum. Angels reveled in the arts—literature, poetry, plays. Dance was mainly a Nehelian thing. I’d seen a performance of it once, and remembered how mesmerized I was by the way so many bodies moved together; some harmoniously, some completely in synch, stomping their feet to create an aggressive, alluring beat. Qaira had told me it was a war dance, practiced thousands of years ago, before one clan prevailed and formed Sanctum. He said they danced to appease Maghir, and although their beliefs often confused me, I was dazzled by his story.
That memory withered my smile.
I missed our get-togethers. Since Tae’s death, nothing was the same. My only hope was that this peace ceremony would make everything right.
XVII
PIECES
THE WEEK HAD FLOWN BY IN A BLINK, spent with organizing acts, refurnishing the venue, screening potential guests, and of course, wiring demolition.
After carefully examining the blue prints, Kada suggested placing the explosives at vulnerable foundation sites which would potentially pose more damage to the angel audience, and not the Nehelians, seated on ground level. I didn’t share his opinion. The house was coming down on everyone, regardless of where we placed those explosives. Not to mention harming mainly angels would detract all logic from an act of angel terrorism.
I tried my best not to listen to the hum of the anticipating crowd as I sat on stage, concealed by red curtain, testing my mic. Lucifer and Yahweh were already here, somewhere backstage, and Sanctum’s port was teeming with angel bureaucrats, siphoning through the city on craft shuttles to Yema. The media had amassed all over the city, some reporters covering the growing crowd of protesters that had rallied near the port. More than a few people didn’t want the peace ceremony. If only they knew how much that pleased me.
But no matter how hard I tried to clear my mind, guilt clenched at my insides. It made preparations difficult, not to mention the horrifying thought of having to speak to the audience before the carnage. On my way in I’d caught a glimpse of the crowd—families, elderly, children. That sight nearly had me dialing Kada to call the whole thing off.
But t
hen Tae had haunted me in the rehearsal room from a full-length changing mirror. I thought of all the sleepless nights and episodes of panic; all the hopeless attempts at pulling myself together, the fights with Leid and the storming out in the middle of the night to fly aimlessly around the city.
No, this all had to end. It was the only way.
Leid had inked me the night before, the sting of the pen still fresh on my skin. Wet coua dust, the components of the ink itself, lined my eyes like war-paint. Liner was only worn on special occasions, and although the purpose behind it was akin to the battle cry of a thousand years ago, the audience would assume it was worn out of the deepest respect. Time was Tradition’s archenemy.
Sound check was a success, and I slipped out of sight as the curtains drew back for the Sanctum Symphony. My brother was standing in the hallway backstage, watching dismally as crowds of media personnel begged our guards to let them through. When the ceremony began, I would place Ara and his team outside Yema to ‘thwart any threats’.
“This is getting crazy,” he murmured. “Pretty soon we’ll need more guards. Those protestors are trying to knock over the port gate.”
Good, all the more reason for Ara to go outside. “I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting all the hysteria.”
“When do you speak?”
“After the first act.”
He nodded. “Better get ready, then.”
I patted him on the shoulder and headed up the stairs.
***
Lucifer sat on a couch in the rehearsal room, reading over his speech, a frown etched across his face. He seemed as nervous as me. The angel guards stepped away from the door, and Raith’s eyes rose at my entrance. He was dressed in black again, a white mantle draped over his shoulder. His hair was loose and hung down his back, bone straight, ice-blonde.
Yahweh was at the other side of the room, talking to a group of angel coordinators. The Commander had brought his own team to Yema. Safety in numbers.
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 58