《Warped》


 Prologue

    The islands were lush and spread out. Palm trees swayed in a calm breeze, rustling the fronds, gently shifting the shade below. We, the Nari¡¯e, lived underneath them, in harmony with the other islands formed by the sacred volcanoes.


    We are innovative, overcoming the obstacles presented by the sea and the sand, aided by the strength of the islands and the ingenuity of its people. Though the cities are spread out, across the islands like freckles on the face of the blue ocean, we are all Nari¡¯e. The islands, the trees, the sand, the animals, they all know it.


    The sun shines down on us, and we smile. Our children will inherit this paradise and grow upon it, like generations before us.


    Some of those children run in circles around a fire, the white smoke idling up into the air, mixing with the salty breeze. The waves push, up and down the beach, as they always do; incessant, reliable, and powerful. Their call is neverending, a promise of adventure, strength, and natural balance. The children laugh, their giggles blending into the soothing rhythm of the waves.


    I look up into the sky, the sun blinding as much as it illuminates. I squint. The volcanoes are tall, their points piercing the clouds. Though they have been dormant for years, the last island they birthed occurred in the days of my grandfather¡¯s great-grandfather, we still always watch. Everything could change in a single moment.


    I looked down at my work in my hands, the net I was mending a tedious, yet important task. There were many jobs for us at the island, and mine was no small one. There is no small job when your community must work together to survive. Of course, I was no leader, the prized inventor, but I knew what we all did was important. My fingers, thick though deft, twisted the rope, knotting it.


    A boom sounded, louder than anything my ears had ever experienced. What could that have been? The volcano? The sky darkened, that sun no longer the source of light it was a moment ago. I looked up to see what had changed, and I did not even need to squint.


    The clouds were gray, thick, nearly black. It seemed to originate on the highest tip of the sacred volcano, as I had suspected, the one who had blessed us with the island we lived upon. Was it active once more?


    ¡°T¨±t¨± Ka¡¯iulani!¡± I shouted, yelling for our leader. She was the inventor, the one we counted on to help guide us through life¡¯s challenges. ¡°The mountain!¡±


    I saw her head perk up from across the way. She had been speaking to a child next to her cottage, a simple structure, covered with palm fronds and supported with creative assistance from the trees and surrounding rocks. Her eyes met mine, then flicked up to the black, growing clouds. Those sharp eyes narrowed.


    ¡°Shelter!¡± she shouted back, herding in the children that had been running around the fire pit. ¡°The caves!¡±


    The caves were a place of last resort, a hollow near the beach, formed by an air pocket within the lava eons ago, when the island was first formed. It was a safe place, hopefully, and whatever was happening now, we prayed it would be enough.


    Another boom sounded, farther away, the aftershock echoing around on the surrounding peaks, the other islands that were within sight. Our people ran, grabbing their families, scooping up children, supporting the elderly, and rushing as fast as we could to the caves. There was no time to save anything else until the worst was over.


    When before only the clouds had become dark, now the air in front of us was nothing more than dust. It choked us, the clogging lungs, coating the insides of mouths and noses, freezing our bodies with the pain.


    But the caves were a refuge. We waited it out, heard the incessant booms, what felt like explosions, though it had to be the volcano¡¯s sudden pressure letting loose. There was no other explanation that the danger that lived among us, the one we were constantly aware of. The children cowered next to their parents, who soothed them. The parents looked to Ka¡¯iulani, the voice of reason and direction. Her face was fierce and determined, and showed not an ounce of fear. I envied her confidence, but not her responsibility. I was just a net maker and mender, nobody looked to me for solutions like they did from her.


    ¡°We wait until the smoke clears,¡± she said in a dignified, hushed voice. ¡°Then we check the damage. Whatever we have to rebuild, we can. We will overcome, as we always have.¡±


    I nodded solemnly, energized by her optimistic words. Her reassurance was more than just a hope, it was a promise. Like the rest of us, I believed in our inventor to lead us out of this crisis. We would persevere, as the Nari¡¯e are known to do.


    It could have been hours, or days, or years. Time was meaningless in the cave, our stomachs too fearful to feel hunger. Though after a while, the inability to sleep from the incessant booming, the fear of feeling trapped in the cave like a cage, and the lack of food or water took its toll. Our numbers began to dwindle, the starvation and dehydration trimming away our weakest of peoples.


    I didn¡¯t know how long we had been in the caves before the booming stopped, but it was long enough for our number to be reduced to nearly half. All of the eldery we had reduced from the initial barrage were gone, mourned by their survivors. The children that had played around the fire pit had lost their cheer long ago, their hollowed cheeks and weak whimpers their badge of strength that they¡¯d survived.


    But the booms had stopped. The silence was almost deafening; we had become so used to the sounds, that it was suspicious when they no longer occurred. Was it safe to check? To see if our islands had survived? What would we be returning to - was there anything at all?


    Ka¡¯iulani stood, every our fearless leader. ¡°I will go and see,¡± she said. ¡°Kawika, Keoki, you¡¯re with me.¡±


    I blinked. My name is Kawika. Why had T¨±t¨± Ka¡¯iulani chosen me? I looked around, curious why a simple net mender was her first choice to venture out into the unknown. My ribs were showing, my cheeks as hollow and gaunt as the next person. As much as I felt honored, I was terrified. I wanted to know what was out there, but it was safe in the cave. Would I meet my end out there, in the unknown?


    ¡°Come,¡± she bid.


    I stood, my legs shaky. I would do as she asked, though I felt fear. For the Nari¡¯e, or what was left of us, I would do whatever it took.


    The light was blinding when we exited the cave. The water was strewn with debris, remnants of our houses and villages floated in the surf, smoking. The filtering shade of the palm trees were no more, the fronds burnt off. I examined the wreckage of our livelihood with squinted eyes. The volcano still smoked, but it had begun to recede, though the sky was still choked with dark clouds, the sun filtered through as best it could. Occasionally a ray would poke through and pierce my eyes.


    Ka¡¯iulani looked grim. ¡°Let¡¯s see if any of the livestock survived.¡±


    We kept a small pen of chickens and pigs, though they mainly were left to roam free. If there were any left in the pen, I would be ecstatic. We walked through what was left of the village, which wasn¡¯t much. It was completely decimated.


    But when we approached the pen, I was in more shock than I¡¯d been since that started - and that was something I¡¯d thought impossible. A single boar stood there, its back to us, amidst a pile of corpses of other pigs. The chickens were a bloody mess as well, either trampled by the boars, or ruined from the debris and explosions. It was hard to tell. But how had this single boar survived?


    Ka¡¯iulani clucked for it, calling its attention. The fence was strong when we had built it, and though it somehow stood, its strength was waned. I was surprised it could hold up its own weight. The boar turned around and screamed, its tusks a bloody mess, a partial snout of another boar stuck at the end, dripping. The boar¡¯s eyes were wild, a deep, vicious red. I¡¯d never seen an animal''s eyes look like that.


    It charged, leaping over the pile of its compatriots and jumping headfirst through the meager fence.


    It went through and bored into Ka¡¯iulani.


    I could hear her screams even now as I ran. Keoki and I turned tail as the boar was busy with Ka¡¯iulani, tears of desperation washing the dust from my face.


    ¡°We have to get to the boats!¡± I shouted to Keoki, my voice and throat hoarse. ¡°The animals have become poisoned!¡±


    ¡°Some of the boats in storage might have survived,¡± Keoki shouted back, his breath heavy from the thick air and the exertion. ¡°I¡¯ll check the boats, you collect any food you can find. Rendezvous at the cave!¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    We split up, Keoki heading for the reserve boats stashed in another nearby cave, while I headed for the gardens. I didn¡¯t have much hope for them, given the state of the livestock, but it was worth a look.


    I arrived at what used to be the gardens. It was nothing more than charred sand, once filled with a variety of fruits, vegetables, and whatever we could grow in the harsh tropical environment. I bent down to inspect what was left of a special plant we used for tea, called Kinipopo. It had hope to survive, as it was a peculiar plant that burrows underneath the sand, protected by the layers of dirt. We used the root to make a medicinal tea, more for pleasure than anything of sustenance.


    I dug one up; it was intact. I scanned the other bushes; everything else was above ground, and it was all dust. I pocketed as many Kinipopo as I could fit into my satchel, and continued on running. I didn¡¯t know if that boar was following me, or if any of the other animals had been similarly affected. If they had, there were much more dangerous creatures out there than the tame boars we had kept. I shuddered to think if the mysterious poison had retreated into the waters.


    I returned to the cave, eager to return to a familiar safe place, though I knew I carried the worst news of all. I steeled myself before entering; praying that Keoki had arrived first.


    I crawled inside, seeing only terrified faces. ¡°Where¡¯s Keoki?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± said a worried mother. ¡°He should be with you!¡±


    ¡°Worse!¡± said a middle aged man. ¡°Where¡¯s T¨±t¨± Ka¡¯iulani?¡±


    I blanched. ¡°She¡­ didn¡¯t make it. The boar¡­ the wildlife have been affected¡­ poisoned¡­ the gardens, burnt¡­¡± I wiped away the sweat on my brow. ¡°Keoki might still be readying the boats. We have to leave this place!¡±


    The people exchanged glances among themselves, flitting their eyes between me, my bulging pockets of Kinipopo, and the exit of the cave.


    ¡°We are ready,¡± said the middle aged man who had asked where Ka¡¯iulani was. ¡°We will follow, Kawika. Show the way.¡±


    I gulped. ¡°I¡¯m no inventor,¡± I pleaded. ¡°I am no leader.¡± I licked my lips. ¡°But I will do my best for our people. Come.¡±


    I turned around and headed back out in the deathly light. The caves where we stored our boats were similar to the one we had hidden in, though much bigger. Hopefully, it had been shrouded enough from the craziness of the disaster. For it was nothing less than that, a disaster of catastrophic proportions.


    I extended a hand to help each person out, making sure the last of us had cleared the cave. I was nearing exhaustion, the effect of no water and no food weighing on us all, the exertion nearly depleting what little energy I had left. I glanced at the Kinipopo in my pocket. It would have to do, and we all needed some strength. I grabbed one, chewed a bitter chunk from it, and swallowed. It was worse than I thought; the effect of brewing the root in tea takes out much of the bitterness that I now experienced. But it would do.


    ¡°To the boats!¡± I shouted, nearly coughing on the sudden exhalation. I carefully made my way around the island, keeping an eye out for Keoki. ¡°The cave isn¡¯t far, now.¡±


    They followed, hope in their eyes. It surprised me. I was but a net mender, nothing special. They had no reason to follow me - except that I was the only one left. I glanced back up athte volcano, the clouds still obscuring its tip, though they were beginning to thin. Or, perhaps that was my wishful thinking. This place would never be the same.


    A few minutes later, the entrance to the cave was in sight.


    So was Keoki.


    He lay in a tide pool, his eyes open and bloody, a creature feasting on his insides. It was a humongous vulture, its eyes red and beady, just like the boar¡¯s before. Keoki had almost made it. Tears welled up in my eyes again. How many would we lose before we were safe?


    We would have to do something about this vulture. It blocked the way to the boats, our only salvation now. I scanned the ground for something, anything. What would an inventor do? What would Ka¡¯iulani have done?


    There was nothing except rocks and debris. The vulture hadn¡¯t spotted us yet, somehow all involved within its feast of Keoki¡¯s bones. If I could distract it¡­ it might be enough for us to get through to the boats and escape.


    ¡°Be ready to run,¡± I whispered.


    The group behind me nodded, eyes never leaving the vulture. My hands lit upon a smoldering piece of wood. It burned, but it would do. If I could throw it far enough¡­My hands and arms were strong from my work. It would have to be enough.


    I tossed the red-hot, charred wood towards the smoking trees, the opposite direction of the caves. The vulture perked its head up, distracted by the sound. Slowly, it looked around, curious. I had its attention, but it returned to its meal, though its eyes were on the trees. I needed something more.


    I spied another piece of debris; this one a remnant stone from our construction. I picked it up, slowly, readying to throw.


    I tossed it again in the same direction. This time, the vulture straightened up completely. It stared at the trees again, intently, determined to see whatever was making the sound.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I said. It had to take the bait. All we had to do was make a short run for it. The boats were probably still stocked with a few rations and maybe a couple bows if we were lucky. We just had to get there.


    The vulture shook its feathers, ruffling them up to look larger. Good, it was preparing to advance. It took a few steps away from Keoki, turning towards the trees. One step, then another. And another.


    I didn¡¯t know how much longer it would be distracted.


    ¡°Now!¡± I whispered.


    I leapt forward, knowing that any motion would alert the vulture, but also counting on the boats as our escape plan. There was no other way! We couldn¡¯t danger the surf; it was a dangerous tide to begin with, and we had no idea if the poison had seeped into the water.


    We ran across the beach, footsteps throwing up sand particles like a dust storm.


    The vulture turned back around, but we were nearly there. I pushed myself harder than I¡¯d ever in my life, begging for more and more speed from my limbs. I pumped my arms, willing my momentum to increase.


    The vulture gave chase, its swift legs quickly gaining on us.


    But the boats were so close now.


    The vulture screeched a horrible sound, a call, a death threat, a promise. It stepped over Keoki, already abandoning its previous feast.


    But the boat cave was nearly within reach. I could see the hulls, a glint of hope. We just had to seize it.


    A scream came from the back of the group. The vulture had caught up to the slowest of us, one of the older adults who had survived so far. He screamed, the vulture piercing his shoulder with its massive claws, its red eyes shining.


    I couldn¡¯t turn back, I couldn¡¯t stop, I couldn¡¯t save this man. But here we were at the boats. I rushed to the first one, and was met with a bow. A quiver of arrows tossed next to it. I threw the quiver over my back, pulled out an arrow, and readied the bow. I nodded my head to the others who rushed over to the boats, readying the positions, some tying off, others prepping the sails.


    I walked back out to the beach. We needed time. The vulture had made quick work of the man, but it was a threat as long as it could fly. I was but a simple net mender, but I had to be able to make this work. I notched the arrow, aimed for the bird¡¯s shoulder, where the wing met the body, and let loose.


    It screeched again, one of shock and sur[rise. I notched another arrow and let loose. It met its mark, a fact I knew when the vulture screamed again. It dropped the man, eyes focused on me. Blood dripped from its injured shoulder.


    I notched another arrow.


    This one missed.


    Hands shaking, I walked backwards, making eye contact with the wretched bird. I notched another arrow, nearly dropping it. I aimed for the other wing, hoping it¡¯d be enough.


    I missed again.


    But this time, instead of hitting the sand behind the sickened bird, the arrow dug itself deep into the vulture¡¯s breast plumage. The bird sputtered, blood spurting from its mouth as it screeched a final death wail.


    ¡°Go!¡± I shouted, running back to the boat and hopping inside. ¡°There¡¯s sure to be more!¡±


    The boats began to push against the surf, a few people using the last of their energy to free them from their restraints. The oars shoved us out beyond the first wave, and the next. The boats crested over the raging ocean, using the pull of the sea to our advantage. We were past the reef.


    Enough space had come between us and the island, our little fleet of boats and survivors minuscule against the spanse of the ocean and the islands. I looked back to survey the damage. Each volcano of all of the visible islands was smoking, burning. All of the trees I could see were charred and black, or gone entirely. The entire landscape was a hellscape, of red fire and flames, smoking remnants of civilization. it was nothing like it had once been. From here, I could hear the screams of more vultures, see specks of creatures fighting on the beach. The animals had gone wild, savage, mad. this was no longer our refuge, our oasis, our home.


    ¡°T¨±t¨± Kawika¡­¡± said a child next to me. She tugged at my shirt. ¡°Where do we go now?¡±


    I blinked. I didn¡¯t know what to do.


    ¡°Um, you can call me Kawika. I¡¯m no T¨±t¨±.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°Closest land.¡±


    ¡°Aruga?¡± asked the child.


    I looked down on her, seeing her hungry eyes and frightened face. She looked up at me with a hope and a trust, one that I didn¡¯t know what to do with. I rustled in my pocket for a Kinipopo, and handed it to her. ¡°Eat,¡± I said. ¡°We will find a new home.¡±


    I glanced back at the islands, bid goodbye to the home we had once known. I closed my eyes, prayed forgiveness to the sea and the sky for leaving behind Ka¡¯iulani and Keoki both. For some reason, I was all that they had left.


    A glint caught my attention from the bottom of the boat. It was a dagger, left over from the rationed weapons that had been stored in the boats. I bent over to retrieve it, turning it over in my hands.


    I pulled my hair on my temple and the left side of my head tight, away from my scalp. pressing the knife as close to the skin without damaging it, I sliced, severing the hair. It fell loose in my hand. That was for Keoki.


    I did the same on the right side, pulling the hair straight out from my head. Again, I sliced, the strands fluttering down. And that was for Ka¡¯iulani. It wasn¡¯t the ceremonial process, but in light of things, it would do for now. It would have to be enough to honor them and their sacrifices; a burden I now carried.


    I grit my teeth, staring at the horizon, the smoking, destroyed islands behind me. Whatever happened, it was unlike any volcano eruption that had ever been recorded. I could only hope we can find refuge in Aruga, our neighbors to the north.

 One

    My feet tapped on the pavement in autopilot, taking me home through the few blocks I had to cross to get from the University to the penthouse where my family and I lived. Not paying attention to much else, I scrolled through the feed on my WaComm attached to my wrist, headlines from recent events flashing in front of my eyes. Bright letters exclaimed yet another death of an esteemed cabinet member chilled my blood. The cabinet, publicly elected officials to advise and make laws with the Prime Minister, were being picked off one by one by some mystery murderer. My father was a cabinet member ¨C was he in danger too? As his son, was I? This was the fourth one, a pattern; it was no longer random, senseless violence. I scrolled past the headline, ignoring the panic and fear it brought me, instead settling on news of a new vid coming out.


    I didn¡¯t even see the shining metal screech to a halt in front of me.


    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, asshole!¡± shouted the driver, a middle aged balding man who stuck his head out of his car¡¯s window to scream at me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll sue your fuckin¡¯ ass!¡± I yelled back without hesitation. Of course, the car was never going to hit me. They zoomed by on autodrive, piloted through a mesh of communications with major traffic intelligence, automatically detecting interferences with their paths and correcting. The worst I¡¯d really done was slow this man¡¯s commute by a few seconds. He could fuck off.


    The man smoothed his thinning hair, grumbling, and sat back in his car. He rolled up the window. I smoothed my specially tailored uniform, specific to the graduate school of Aruga State University, and continued on my way. The nerve of people around here. In light of my near death experience, I decided to forgo my typical routine of zoning out while walking, and instead took in the sights.


    They were familiar sights. The lights, already on, even though it wasn¡¯t quite sunset yet, flooded the streets with a harsh glow, barely leaving room for shadows. The cars zoomed past on auto, their passengers reclining back and allowing their expensive gleaming metal vehicles to hurtle them through to their destination. My father had bought me a car when I was old enough to drive, and I used it often; however, today was a different case. I¡¯d been feeling rather pent up, having sat down all day during lectures - I relished the exercise. My father would never have made that decision, if he were in my shoes, though. He insisted it was important how we were seen, and that it was both unwise and unsafe to go anywhere not in a car or with an entourage.


    The buildings, familiar as I saw them every single day, loomed over me, their sheer height of floor to wall windows reflecting the sun about to set directly in my eyes. I squinted looking up at them. They were pretty, I supposed, in an imposing manner. They all looked eerily similar; while they varied widely in shape and design, they were all sleek, shiny, and covered in glass. The streetlights dotted uniformly on the wide open streets, all lined with chrome and gleaming to perfection.


    Finally, I entered the front door of our building, barely registering the glass door I pushed open, the hello of the door man in his impeccable suit, the elevator¡¯s ding as I selected the eighth floor. I had the fifth, the first four related to the building¡¯s maintenance, maids, and kitchens, while my stepmother claimed the sixth, and my father the seventh and eighth. I didn¡¯t like that I lived with my father, but there were definitely worse conditions to be in. I recognized that at twenty five, most of my other peers were probably in their own apartment, paying their own rent. A few of my classmates were in that very situation. But most of my classmates didn¡¯t have access to a living space this extensive and of high quality, complete with room service and daily maid service. My floor had just enough distance from my family, and that was how I liked it.


    I entered my pin number onto the door¡¯s seemingly invisible keypad, the sensors in it feeling my distinct fingerprints and detecting my identity. The lock clicked, and I swung the door open to reveal my home. I took in a deep breath of relief; it smelled fresh and clean, as if the maid service had just been by. A hint of lemon scented cleaning products lingered behind, the citrus smell crisp and energizing.


    I tossed my designer school bag onto the floor, the books in it clanking as they toppled to the ground. I looked forward to sitting down and thinking of nothing.


    But, my WaComm pinged, gentle and soft, notifying me of an incoming message. I swiped to view, reading the message quickly, each word bringing me down. I was looking forward to relaxing in my apartment, and I¡¯d just gotten home. Didn¡¯t I deserve at least a little bit of a break?


    I sighed, leaving my bag on the floor and turned to exit my apartment space. I bid goodbye to the shining, clean surfaces, the large media screen beckoning me, the fully stocked fridge with groceries I never had to retrieve personally. I left the apartment and re-entered the elevator, but this time, pressing the button for the eighth floor of our building where my father awaited me. I gulped.


    The quiet ding of the elevator announced my arrival and I passed through the hallway to my father¡¯s personal office. I tapped on the door ¨C no personal pin for this door, at least, not for me ¨C and one of my father¡¯s secretaries opened it. She was a slim, dainty, and very short Nari¡¯e woman, with medium brown skin and hair only a shade darker. It was perfectly straightened and coiffed, twisted into a severe bun. She refused to meet my eyes but gestured that I pass through the waiting room and into one of my father¡¯s main offices. He had several, for different purposes.


    ¡°This way, Mr. Torven. He¡¯s waiting for you,¡± she said in a light, sweet voice.


    ¡°Thanks, Ms. Wela.¡±


    I passed through the waiting room that played faint, traditional classical Arugan instrumental music in the background, the elegance of each velvety chair and tastefully calm decorations the complete opposite of the chaos occurring in my stomach. I wished I could sit down on the couch and sip at a coffee from the little coffee bar setup for guests and precisely that purpose, but there was business to attend to.


    I approached the door to my father¡¯s office, a large, dulled glass window with a handle. He perked up as a I got close, my fingers gripping the thick metal handle to pull the door open.


    ¡°Good, you¡¯re here,¡± my father said gruffly, making large, violent swipes on his media screen to exit from whatever program he was working on.


    ¡°Evening, sir,¡± I said, the polite words coming out easily with the years of practice. ¡°You called for me?¡±


    ¡°Obviously. I thought I¡¯d remind you in person,¡± my father said, his voice grumbling and gravelly. ¡°As a Montgomery, you have more responsibilities than the average citizen of Aruga. You have a reputation to uphold.¡±


    ¡°I know that father, I haven¡¯t done ¨C¡°


    ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt me.¡± He stared with steely blue eyes directly into my soul. ¡°This is but a reminder, not a lecture. Cerise and I have an event to attend this evening. I don¡¯t much want to go, but it¡¯s a matter of political importance. I¡¯ve allowed you the space to continue your education, but you¡¯re almost graduated. As soon as you do, I¡¯ll expect you to take up the mantle, follow in my footsteps. As a Montgomery, with the connections we have, it¡¯s your duty to pursue a career in our government.¡± He sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair, the leather squeaking in protest. ¡°You¡¯ll begin as soon as you graduate.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows. This wasn¡¯t unexpected; I¡¯d always known I was supposed to continue the family legacy of being continually influential in the cabinet, maybe even Prime Minister one day. But for some reason, I hadn¡¯t expected it to be so soon.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want me to have some job experience first?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I mean. When you graduate, you¡¯ll apprentice with me.¡±


    ¡°I understand, sir,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡± I nodded gravely at him, the seriousness of the moment fully hitting me. He was officially accepting me as his successor, placing on my shoulders the continuation of the legacy he began years ago, the same one his father placed on his. ¡°May I ask one question though, sir?¡±


    ¡°That was one. You may ask another,¡± he said, the barest hint of a smile twisting the corners of his lips.


    ¡°Why is this event tonight so important?¡± Curiosity had gotten the better of me; I simply had to know.


    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s all for you, my son. You¡¯ll need support, allies. I¡¯m going to start collecting some for you.¡±


    I tilted my head forward, accepting his help silently. ¡°Thank you, father.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Any son of Ralen Montgomery will not be a failure. Remember that.¡±


    ¡°I will, sir. Is there anything else?¡±


    ¡°Dismissed.¡± He waved me off, going back to his media screen.


    ~


    I sat in my opulent apartment, alone. The couch, perfectly white and stiff, felt almost like a prison of comfort. I itched to get out, to do something, to celebrate. I¡¯d known my father would someday recognize me like he had, giving me the responsibilities I¡¯d rightfully inherit from him, but the knowledge that it was real invigorated me still. I felt like an adult, a proper adult, even though I¡¯d known this day was coming. It was as if I¡¯d been recognized as a true man, one with expectations and duties and a career ahead of him. Growing up this way, I always knew it would be like this to a degree, but I¡¯d never expected that I¡¯d feel so¡­ energized by it. I always thought I¡¯d feel a little weighed down, at the very least. Instead, I wanted nothing more than to go out and have a little fun, let loose, and enjoy the evening to celebrate.


    I whipped out my WaComm and typed up a message to my childhood friend, Sheen.


    You busy? Wanna get trashed with me tonight?


    The message pinged, letting me know it¡¯d been sent and delivered. I leaned back against my couch, the cloth covered cushion so stiff it barely dented when I put pressure on it. As soon as I reclined, my WaComm pinged, letting me know Sheen had replied.


    Dude it¡¯s Wednesday I have to work early in the morning. Drink one for me


    I typed back furiously.


    Fine be a bitch


    I sighed. Sheen was always busy with work. But I supposed I couldn¡¯t blame him too much. We¡¯d grown up together as kids, and would always be friends, but his insistence on pursuing an engineering degree and then another one after that, on top of his new job with the defense department really made it hard to see him. He was always working or studying. Even though I was almost done with my master¡¯s degree, it was a different kind of workload than his. Mine was mostly research papers, which I was able to spit out with ease, while his was mostly problem solving and math. I knew for a fact if we¡¯d switched roles, I would cry as soon as I saw the unfamiliar variables and he would whine about typing a single letter. To each their own, I supposed, even though knowing that didn¡¯t make me miss spending time with him any less. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The urge to go out and party still burned within me. I guess I could call up some of my classmates, or some people I knew who were also involved in the government like I was. My peers, my father would say, and allies. Maybe he would be proud of me for building relationships with them. It was this thought that made me select their profiles and send a group message to three of them I knew the best, which unfortunately, still wasn¡¯t well.


    Who wants to go out and get fuckin lit????


    Immediately, they all responded positively, their enthusiasm obvious through the text. I couldn¡¯t help the smile that grew on my face. Even if these weren¡¯t my close friends, they seemed like they knew how to party. This should be a fun night. I wasn¡¯t planning on telling them that I was celebrating, to them, this would just be another wild night of fun.


    ~


    I walked into the bar they suggested, a shitty dive only a short drive away from my apartment. I decided to drive because it would look weird if I didn¡¯t, and as my father had recently reminded me, image was everything. Plus, it would be safer to drive if we were going to get really intoxicated, as I was planning on doing. The auto-drive feature was really a godsend in those cases. Much safer than centuries and centuries ago, where I¡¯m told some people drove even though they were drunk. The audacity to endanger yourself and others that way always astounded me. History was strange.


    I¡¯d not been to this bar before, but I suppose the venue of choice really was irrelevant as long as there would be alcohol. As soon as I entered, I spied my friends already at the bar, taking shots. They stood out, despite their efforts to blend in, the scent of old money impossible to scrub off. Everyone else around us eyed us suspiciously; perhaps it was the perfect sheen of our expensive haircuts, or the clean glimmer of our shoes, even though the effort was made to wear something not obviously designer brand. I knew I was guilty of it too, the way even my grungiest and lowest end clothes were still too haughty for this place.


    They slammed their shot glasses back on the table, the smell of alcohol wafting to my nose as droplets splattered out of the glass. It smelled like something strong, something indescribably Nari¡¯e. They used some kind of plant only found in those islands to make their famous alcohol, ¡®Ona, and it was even more rare and expensive now since the islands had gone inhabitable. It was probably the most expensive liquor this bar had.


    ¡°Torven, mate, good to see you,¡± drawled Malley, who was closest to me. He clapped a hand on my back, the sting of his fingers making me flinch. ¡°We ordered you a shot, too.¡±


    A peek down at the table deemed him right. There was a lone shot glass, identical to the others that had just been slammed, filled with the mysteriously glimmer liquid. A bit had spilled out from the side and had pooled around the bottom; most likely from when the shots were smacked on the table only moments ago.


    ¡°Thanks, man,¡± I said, swiftly lifting the shot to my lips. I took a deep inhale, noting the earthy and herbal tones of the liquid before tossing it down. It burned my throat, but instantly after, soothed and cooled it, almost a numbing sensation. It tasted fantastic. The Nari¡¯e sure knew what they were doing when it came to booze.


    ¡°Montgomery! You made it!¡± said the others, Joh and Lip, nearly in unison. They were identical twin brothers, with eerily identical features and mannerisms. They each sported a similar outfit, as well, with clean pressed blue jeans and faded green tees.


    ¡°More shots?¡± I prompted, pointing to the bar. ¡°This round is on me.¡±


    ¡°More ¡®Ona!¡± shouted Joh.


    I¡¯d already begun pressing through the crowd towards the bar. I would just get a bottle of the stuff; at this rate, I didn¡¯t want to have to carry this many shots through all of these people to begin with. The shot I¡¯d just taken had already started to blur my thoughts, the fuzz of alcohol dampening my senses. I¡¯d forgotten how fast this stuff worked.


    Two hours later, the bottle was almost empty.


    ¡°Where are you goin?¡± Joh slurred.


    I looked down and realized I¡¯d stood up from our table. ¡°Um, dunno?¡± I licked my lips, my cheeks hot and flushed. I slapped them with both hands, only vaguely registering the touch and sound. ¡°Let¡¯s¡­. go. I¡¯m bored? I wanna go¡­.somewhere else.¡±


    Joh and Lip exchanged mischievous looks.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, buddy,¡± Joh said, standing up and grabbing my arm. ¡°I¡¯ll help you walk. Lip knows a good place, right?¡±


    ¡°Fuck yes, bro,¡± Lip answered, getting up from our table as well. He looked as if he handled his liquor just about as well as I did, his movement slow and jerky. ¡°You comin, Malley?¡±


    Malley burped in response, grabbed the nearly empty bottle of ¡®Ona, and stood too hastily. As a result, he tripped over the edge of the table, earning what was sure to be a nasty bruise in the morning. But he just laughed it off, checking the bottle to make sure he hadn¡¯t broken it accidentally, and kept moving with us.


    The brisk air sobered me slightly, but not enough to do much more than make me blink rapidly at the sudden change of atmosphere. Shouts and giggles from my friends ¨C colleagues, really ¨C brought me back to my senses. They were walking ahead of me, jumping and skipping and making too much noise for my inebriated brain to comprehend. I followed them blindly. I caught up with them, doing the best I could to keep up the pace they set. I let them get ahead of me again, not worrying about trying to stay next to them anymore. It was too much effort.


    A man sat at the edge of the street, his feet dangling over the curb. His hair was knotted and matted, unlike the usual clean and proud Nari¡¯e hairstyles I typically saw. His clothes weren¡¯t in much better shape. Clearly, he was homeless, and judging by the rag that might once have been described as a hat, laying upside down in his lap, he was begging. I averted my gaze quickly, unwilling to make eye contact.


    ¡°Hey man, here¡¯s some cash,¡± Malley said, tossing a large crumpled bill into the man¡¯s open hat.


    ¡°Clear skies and swift water, stranger,¡± the man said, his pale white eyes roaming.


    I hadn¡¯t noticed before, but he was clearly blind. There was no harm in making eye contact, I supposed, but I still found it hard to look at the poor man. I felt as if I should apologize, but I didn¡¯t know why. I wasn¡¯t the one who put him there. And, Joh and Malley had just given him some money. So why did I feel so strange right now?


    Malley laughed and slowed up his pace. Joh and Lip were behind him, and with one swift movement, Lip kicked the man¡¯s cash hat right out of his hands. The hat flew in the air, the coins toppling out and the large bill floating majestically, flipping in the updraft. Joh caught the cash mid-swipe, surprisingly deft with his action.


    They all cackled with glee; I managed a guilty chuckle, the cries of the Nari¡¯e man growing quieter and quieter as we got farther and farther away. Joh, holding the cash he had recently come into possession with, picked up the pace, forcing us to follow, until we could no longer hear the man. I forced my eyes ahead, not allowing myself a glance backwards. What would be the point? All I would see was my cowardice in the form of a homeless man that they ¨C we ¨C had just robbed, for no reason.


    ¡°Bro, lighten up,¡± Lip said, noticing my silence.


    ¡°I¡¯m cool, I¡¯m cool,¡± I said, my voice uncharacteristically monotone. Maybe it registered to them that I wasn¡¯t exactly okay with this, or maybe it was enough to be going on, they left me alone and we all walked together in silence. Whatever this destination was, it had better be worth it. That whole experience had stolen my buzz, re-sharpened the edges I had worked so hard to drink smooth.


    We kept walking, the three of us standing shoulder to shoulder, taking up the entire walkway. The lights became less frequent, though there were fixtures for them, less of them were functional. Some flickered, others simply emitted no brightness at all. The ones that did work, cast the street in a yellow light, washing over everything a golden hue. Though sobering up from the walk and the cold night air, I still couldn¡¯t read the signs well enough to pay attention to them, but there were more neon lights and flashing signs. These businesses were entertainment, bars, that sort of thing. I¡¯d never been here before, but Joh, Lip, and Malley still looked comfortable, like they knew exactly where they were going. I hoped they did; I certainly didn¡¯t.


    This part of town definitely wasn¡¯t the upscale apartments and businesses placed atop skyscrapers I was used to; we were quickly wandering into the Nari¡¯e quarter, a much more dangerous part of town - particularly for three young men of noble class. I didn¡¯t let myself think about the murderer on the loose, I wouldn¡¯t. We were safe, right?


    We stopped; I didn¡¯t notice in time and crashed into Lip in front of me. He just brushed me off, completely entranced by the building in front of us. There were windows of displays, something moving that I couldn¡¯t quite make out. The lights were flashing behind like strobes, and it gave me a headache to look at. I favored staring at my shoes instead, still annoyingly clean and perfect.


    Malley grabbed my arm and brought me inside. The next thing I knew we were sitting at a table, those strobe lights still flashing, but less intrusive now that we were inside. A shot glass suddenly appeared in front of me, making me jump. I took it anyway.


    I closed my eyes in relief; it was more Nari¡¯e swill, the best liquor I¡¯d ever had. I wondered if we could figure out how to make it ourselves. If so, it¡¯d be worth the effort. I¡¯d drink this every day if I could. The liquid coated my tongue, then I swallowed, burning its way down my throat. I set down the glass and opened my eyes once more, finally able to focus on where I was.


    In front of me was a fully nude woman twisting seductively on the stage, her eyes right on us. She was dancing closer and closer, strategically moving her body to only allow just enough of a glimpse. Her hair was wild and free, a deep brown like a river stone, her skin tone only a shade or two lighter. The look in her eyes was that of a predator, and we her prey. I shivered, largely uncomfortable. This wasn¡¯t really my thing.


    Joh, Lip, and Malley counted out their newfound cash, on the table, the coins glinting in the flashing lights. Lip tossed a wad of bills at the woman coming our way; she picked it up graciously and stuffed it in a string tied around her thigh. She directed her full attention onto the three of us; hurriedly, I gestured to a passing waitress for another drink. Only seconds later, another shot glass was in my hand, and a bottle of ¡®Ona on the table.


    On second thought, I didn¡¯t think I could ever drink this stuff again. I was going to puke.


    I stood up unceremoniously, tossing aside a chair and clumsily removing myself from the table. My friends didn¡¯t even notice, so entranced they were with the women. I hustled out of the building, eager not to puke inside and certainly not in front of everyone. I shoved through people, bumping shoulders with middle aged men who looked like they should invest more in personal hygiene, until I finally found the front door. I booked it to the alley, heaving and emptying the entire contents of my stomach.


    The bile burned my throat again, making me cough. Finally, it was over. I leaned against the wall, the smell of what I¡¯d just done permeating through my nose. I wondered if they were worried about me, wondering where I went.


    I took a few steps down the alley back towards the front to go back inside when I heard a door open. I turned around, only to see Malley, Joh, and Lip exiting into the alley, the stripper in tow. I heard mumbles, whispers of promises, saw the exchange of a stack of bills as they walked further back into the alley.


    Guess they weren¡¯t too worried about me after all. I checked my WaComm, noting the time was late. I was too drunk for this bullshit. I dialed my location in to call my car to pick me up, and made my way up to the front to wait for it. Just because I could ping my location and have auto drive pick me and take me home, didn¡¯t mean it was instant. My car had to come all the way from where I¡¯d left it, back at the first bar. It would be a few minutes.


    I could take this time to relax and catch a breather. That sounded nice. I hadn¡¯t left the alley yet, instead deciding to lean up against that wall once more. I really didn¡¯t feel like puking in my own car tonight.


    Through my own drunken stupor, I barely noticed the slight, childlike frame that bumped into me.


    ¡°Sorry sir!¡± piped up a small voice. A child.


    ¡°Um, it¡¯s¡­ okay.¡± What was a kid doing out here late at night? ¡°Are you lost?¡±


    The kid looked up at me with big, brown eyes and tightly braided hair. ¡°Just trying to get home, sir. But I don¡¯t have money for the bus fare, sir, so I¡¯s gotta walk.¡±


    I blinked at her. It occurred to me that this poor kid shouldn¡¯t be where she was. And ¨C I had enough money for a bus fare, I was sure of it. Maybe this small act of kindness would help me feel better about that stunt my friends ¨C my acquaintances ¨C pulled on that homeless man. I reached into my back pocket for my wallet; her shrewd eyes watched carefully.


    ¡°You¡¯re too kind, sir,¡± she said, still staring at my hands.


    I opened my wallet, rustling for a couple of bills that I thought might be enough. Before I could react, she whipped it out of my numb fingers and ran off, her short legs carrying her faster than I would have imagined.


    I blinked dumbly. ¡°Hey, come back here!¡± I shouted.

 Two

    My feet carried me swiftly down the alley, the alcohol numbing the sensations of impact against the pavement, maddeningly slower than the child before me. Her braids swung back and forth as she ran, much faster than I could, hypnotizing me. She couldn¡¯t have been more than ten ¨C how was it that I couldn¡¯t keep up?


    ¡°Come on, Torven, get your shit together,¡± I whispered to myself, trying desperately to pump my legs harder. They weren¡¯t responding well, as if I were pushing through a sea of molasses instead of air.


    The kid turned, sending a wave of dirt in the air as she dashed into a side street.


    I followed her, stumbling around the curve, my hands connecting with the stone street below. The rough pavement scraped the palms of my hands, the sting of gravel embedded in the skin. I picked myself up, urgency pushing me forward, anxious to catch up to this kid.


    Now standing, I brushed off the dust and dirt I¡¯d gathered in my graceful change of direction, lungs heaving with effort.


    The girl was just standing there, a mischievous smile on her red face. She tossed my wallet into the shadows.


    I didn¡¯t hear the thud of the leather hitting the pavement, instead, it was a clap, as if someone caught it smoothly in their hands.


    The shadows moved, turning into a couple lanky teenagers, backed by a hulking man standing a head taller than everyone else here. I shrank back; this was a setup. This kid had lured me to a secluded location so these thugs could really mug me, for real.


    A fist slammed me in the stomach, violently pressing the air from my lungs and my organs displacing. I doubled over, wheezing from the sudden blow. One of the teenagers.


    I coughed, spittle flecking the concrete below.


    The same fist again, this time at my side. I barely even registered it in enough time to raise my hands, though it did nothing. I was still too drunk to do much more than stand there - well, crouch there - while i took the hit. At least the ¡®Ona did something to dull my nerves, because while the punches definitely hurt, I figured it could¡¯ve been worse.


    I peeked up to notice the large man going through my wallet, the other teenager peering over his shoulder. I counted myself lucky he hadn¡¯t been the one punching me, or I doubted I¡¯d even be conscious right now.


    ¡°Guys ¨C stop! Look at this.¡±


    The teenager holding my wallet had pulled out my identification card, complete with my vital information. My heart sank. What would they do now that they knew who I was? Clearly, there was some kind of recognition there. My father was going to kill me - assuming I survived this encounter, first.


    The teenagers hustled together, the large man peering over their shoulders. The kid had slunk away into the shadows, but now re-emerged to see what the fuss was all about. I lay on the ground, panting heavily, assessing my situation. Would I be fast enough to evade them all?


    Before I could even think about getting up quick enough to make an escape, they all turned their attention to me, their faces solemn and surprisingly enough, wary, as if they were afraid of me.


    ¡°You a Montgomery, like, that prick, Lord Montgomery?¡±


    I blinked. Should I tell them? My ID card said as much, but would they believe I was anyone else? I didn¡¯t know what to say.


    ¡°Obviously he is, it don¡¯t matter what he tell you,¡± said the large man, clearly these teenagers¡¯ minder. ¡°I got an idea.¡±


    I paled. Whatever this man¡¯s idea was, I surely didn¡¯t want to be a part of it.


    ¡°Bring him to T¨±t¨± Kaika. She won¡¯t want to miss this¡­ opportunity.¡±


    The large man slid a finger over his WaComm, a clunky, outdated yet apparently functional model, typed surprisingly quickly for someone with hands his size, and then looked up at me.


    ¡°T¨±t¨± Kaika has agreed to meeting you, kid,¡± the man said. ¡°It¡¯s in your best interest to be polite.¡±


    He lumbered over, his legs thick as tree trunks, and pulled me upright, supporting my weight.


    ¡°Do I¡­ do I have a choice?¡± I rasped, the words tough to get out through my swollen lip.


    ¡°Nope. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ~


    The man called up a car with his WaComm, a ragged, beat down vehicle that barely looked like it could function. But, we all piled in all the same, the two teenagers, the kid, myself, and the man who apparently owned it. The backseat was crowded with me sandwiches between the two teenagers, and up front, the man and the kid sat comfortably with plenty of space between them. I envied their leg room. The inside of the car was just as run down as the outside. The upholstery peeling, revealing degraded foam, the kind that disintegrated as soon as you put any pressure on it. The seats were lumpy and lopsided, causing me to tilt and lean into the teen on my left. He gave me a glare about it but said nothing.


    The longer the drive went on, the more anxious I became. Who was this T¨±t¨± Kaika? And why would she want to meet me? But, deep down, there was a part of me that was burning to know at any costs. Whoever this was, and whatever they wanted, had to be far more interesting than anything I¡¯d been involved in before. Though, I couldn¡¯t help but fear for my life.


    Quickly, the fear became just a sour taste in my mouth, overpowered by the desire to know, and the excitement and promise of adventure - now that I wasn¡¯t actively being punched in the face anymore. Not that it really mattered, anyway. My life was all laid out for me already. It was almost intoxicating, the threat of messing it all up in a single night. It sharpened everything around me, each sense so powerful it was painful.


    As the car drove on, I found my mind wandering, despite my clearly perilous situation. I had taken many, many classes that scrutinized the lives of the poor, of the displaced Nari¡¯e here in Aruga, but it was another thing seeing it in person. How could they live this way? The stark differences between our lifestyles, just by sitting in this car alone, was enough to stagger me. Experiencing this firsthand was more eye opening than any of the research papers I¡¯d conducted or any surveys I¡¯d received throughout my whole graduate school education. How much did I really know, anyway? Did I know anything at all?If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The car stopped in front of a warehouse. We were deep in the Nari¡¯e quartier now, in a section of the city I¡¯d never been before. The best bars were at the border of the Nari¡¯e quarter, but still close enough to the ritzier part of town so that they were safe enough to get drunk there. Aside from tonight, those were the only parts of the Nari¡¯e quartier I¡¯d seen. Having driven through the thick of it over the last fifteen minutes, I know felt as if this was an entirely different city. It had a completely different feel, a certain desperation that tinted the air. The neon lights edging the all-nighter businesses along the streets seemed to scream for help, flashing and blinding.


    ¡°Blindfold him,¡± piped up the kid from the front seat.


    ¡°What? Why?¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve already seen how we got here. What¡¯s the point now?¡±


    The kid sat up in the seat to glare at me. ¡°Cause I seen it in movies. Ya gotta be blindfolded!¡±


    The man sighed. ¡°Pa¡¯ani, relax. He won¡¯t snitch on us or nothing¡­ besides, he¡¯s our honored guest. He¡¯ll behave.¡± The man stared back at me pointedly.


    I gulped. If I got more on this man¡¯s bad side, I¡¯d be sinking in a Nari''e grave, deep at the bottom of the ocean.


    The teenagers got out of the car, pushing me out of the door. I staggered out, the effects of the alcohol long burned off by adrenaline and fear. Instead, now all I felt was the pain of that punch to the face, the chase from trying to catch up to the kid, and everything in between.


    ¡°Stand up straight, and don¡¯t say nothin unless she asks you a direct question. You got it?¡±


    I nodded briskly, regretting the motion immediately. I was starting to feel the hangover already, my head throbbing even more. I wanted desperately to get out of this alive, but even more so, I wanted to see who this person was. A fatal flaw of mine, I supposed, this curiosity.


    ¡°Lead the way,¡± I said, gesturing in front of me. ¡°I¡¯ll behave.¡±


    I followed them into the warehouse, my apprehension growing with each step. The warehouse was nothing more than a large room, with several broken windows letting unfiltered moonlight in to dance, dappled on the floor. Shipping crates edged the room, filling up each wall. In the very center was a single shipping crate, alone, and opened. Dim lights shone out from it, a warm glow of invitation. Two Nari¡¯e men stood outside of it, muscles flexing as they glared at us ¨C me. We approached slowly.


    ¡°I¡¯ve brought you a visitor, T¨±t¨± Kaika,¡± said the man who brought me here.


    ¡°Bring him inside,¡± a light voice beckoned from inside the shipping crate.


    The two guards on the outside nodded at me. Carefully, I stepped forward. What was in store for me if I went inside? I couldn¡¯t deny, the voice I¡¯d heard sounded female. My curiosity was burning to know what was really going on here. It was that feeling that picked up my feet and set them down, one step at a time, closer and closer to the shipping crate.


    A woman sat cross legged on the floor in the center of the shipping crate, another leaned against the far right corner, just barely out of sight from the lights shining from the floor. The cross legged woman wore an expression of fierce determination and wariness, her teeth bared at me, her hair in tight cornrows against her head.


    I bowed my head at her. ¡°Uh, T¨±t¨± Kaika,¡± I said. ¡°A pleasure to meet you.¡±


    The woman laughed a hard chuckle. ¡°Is it, now?¡± Her lips twisted into a grin. ¡°And who is T¨±t¨± Kaika meeting?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Torven Montgomery,¡± I said politely, not bothering to conceal my name. Her goons had already seen my ID anyway and knew who I was. If they hadn¡¯t, I wouldn¡¯t even have gotten here.


    ¡°Ha¡¯ana, stop your games. He¡¯s frightened,¡± said the woman in the back corner.


    I stepped back, a little startled. Had I offended her? I¡¯d assumed the cross legged woman was Kaika, but evidently, that was not the truth. This woman, Ha¡¯ana, was still smiling at me, albeit maliciously, but she was still clearly amused. She stood, allowing for the woman in the corner to reveal herself.


    ¡°My name is Mea Kaika,¡± said the woman in the corner as she stood.


    Her vibrant, deep brown eyes stared into my soul, the same shade as her hair, the hue of a burnt coconut husk. The waves of her hair were secured away from her face with two heavily decorated clips, adorned with pearls and shells. She stood nearly to my shoulder, her smooth, perfect skin clearly that of a youth. Remarkably, she seemed to be even younger than me.


    My mouth fell open. Her beauty was obvious, but that paled in comparison to her energy, how she carried herself, the effect she had on everyone else around us. Clearly, she was a charismatic person. How else would someone as young as her come to lead such a group? And she had to be their leader ¨C why else would they bring me to her with such reverence in their voices, such fear? I could only wonder what exactly their group did here, though. Were they but simple thieves, working together to scrounge a living? The scientist in me ached to know how their hierarchy functioned, how each of them played a part in their miniature society.


    ¡°You seem to be¡­speechless,¡± she said, the slightest of smiles hinting at her lips.


    I blinked rapidly, struggling to regain my composure. I didn¡¯t know what to say now that I¡¯d gotten here. What was I trying to accomplish, again? Her presence ruined my ability to think rationally, or at all.


    ¡°You must want something. That¡¯s the only reason anyone visits me,¡± Mea said, turning her head as she watched me sputter. ¡°But this time, I need something from you. Can you help me?¡±


    She surprised me yet again. ¡°What could I possibly give you?¡±


    Mea smiled; fully, this time, dazzling me with her charismatic expressions and sparkling, white teeth. ¡°Just your time.¡±


    ¡°My time?¡± I said, unwilling to argue, yet still thoroughly confused.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to show you what my people, Ka Po¡¯e, are all about,¡± she said, still smiling warmly. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard of us.¡±


    It all came together as soon as she mentioned Ka Po¡¯e. She must be a part of their leadership, somehow, maybe organizing their protests and riots I often heard about on the news. She probably wanted from me what anyone ever wants from the son of Ralen Montgomery ¨C their voice in the government. My heart sank a little. I knew she hadn¡¯t wanted to spend time with me, a stranger that her thugs had brought to her, but a part of me had hoped for more.


    She stared at me, her eyebrow raised, waiting for my response. I knew it was a bad idea, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to tell her no. I wanted to see more of that smile, for whatever reason I could take.


    ¡°So? What do you say? Allow me to show you what we¡¯re about, and you promise not to tell your father about the¡­circumstances of our meeting?¡± She positively glittered.


    I glowed, basking in the warmth of her pleading grin. Awed, I only nodded.


    ¡°Can I walk you out?¡± she asked me, gesturing still with a sweet smile.


    Like putty in her hands, I nodded again. I followed behind her like a lost puppy, one foot after the other, only for her. The woman she had called Ha¡¯ana stepped up as if to stop her, but halted mid step; Mea had frozen her with a single look. We walked out of the shipping container office, her goons parting for us like the red sea, complete with dangerous and wary stares for me, concern and respect for her. I ignored them all, instead only watching her hair bounce and sway as she walked, the strands occasionally catching the light like a halo.


    We approached a nondescript door at the far end of the warehouse. She opened it, letting the cold air breeze into the building, abruptly awakening me from my trance. For I had been entranced by her, of that there was no doubt.


    ¡°You can call your car here. I¡¯m sure you have one,¡± she said, leaning against the open doorway. ¡°Meet me here tomorrow morning? Say, ten o¡¯ clock?¡± She leaned over to my WaComm, typed in some numbers with ease, her scent filling my nostrils with a floral sweetness in her close proximity. When she finished, she rested back against the doorway once more.


    ¡°It¡¯s a date,¡± I said, high on the hopes of tomorrow.

 Three

    I rolled over and blinked, the soft glow of midday sifting through the blinds. I yawned, my head throbbing, making me feel as if I was about to spin around and fall over. My eyes felt thick and swollen. I rubbed them vigorously. It didn¡¯t help. Still lying down in my bed, the covers twisted around my feet, I swiped on my WaComm to wake the screen. It shone a bright green at me, piercing through my irises. No messages. I yawned again and my stomach grumbled at me, angry and nauseous.


    I swiped a few more times, sending a message to our group chat with Joh, Lip, and Malley, asking if they made it home alright. It was noon, surely, they had gotten home by now. Whatever they had actually gotten up to last night, I doubted they stuck around to see the morning. It would¡¯ve been nice to hear from them to ask about me, though. But I knew I shouldn¡¯t expect that from them; I really didn¡¯t know them all that well. They were classmates, since we were young, and we were usually in the same social circle, but that was really it. Every time I hung out with them, or anyone like that, it was just them trying to reach up and use me, take advantage of my father¡¯s status and elevated position in the Cabinet.


    But that was something I¡¯d gotten used to over the years. The Montgomerys were a noble family, my father a Lord; one day, he would hand that title over to me. We were always thrust at the top of the social ladder, ever bothered by those trying to use us to climb higher. This was just the price I had to pay to live this life. I suppose. I looked around at my apartment, my sanctuary. It was perfectly clean, sparkling, as it always was. The white sheets were always pristine. I carefully leant over to untangle my feet and get out of the crisp linens, finally ready to rise out of bed.


    A few more swipes on my WaComm, and the wall screen began to play. It was stuck on the station I¡¯d last been watching, which was the news. It wasn¡¯t something I used to watch often, but since I¡¯d been studying sociology, it became more of an educational and academic experience. The news usually reported whatever was sensational, and it always made me wonder what the real story was. Why did that burglar steal from that family? Was it to feed their kids, or just to steal? I felt it was important to question things like that, and as a graduate student, it was my duty to look closer at our society as a whole.


    The newscaster looked grim today, though, her lips tight and thin as she spoke. ¡°¡­another murder has been identified; investigations are ongoing, but some speculate that the Cabinet Murderer has struck again¡­¡±


    A chill went through my body. If they¡¯re already guessing it¡¯s another Cabinet murder, then one of my father¡¯s colleagues, another Lord, had been found dead. This makes the fourth one, if I wasn¡¯t mistaken. I hastily swiped on my WaComm again, eagerly changing the channel on the wall screen to anything else. A cooking show now spouted bright and cheery information on how best to make a traditional Arugan sour cake, a delicacy made popular about thirty years ago. I left it on, but tuned out the noise, unwilling to leave the apartment empty of sound.


    I started the coffee maker by swiping on my WaComm again, prompting a burst of liquid to spout into an automated cup, ready in seconds. As I sipped the hot beverage, I tried to remember what happened last night. It was fuzzy, sure, but I didn¡¯t think I blacked out. Though some details seemed strange. Did my wallet really get stolen last night? Did I really meet the leader of the Ka Po¡¯e, the most beautiful Nari¡¯e girl I¡¯d ever seen?


    I started up, nearly splashing the coffee all over the counter and my lap. I was supposed to meet her, Mea, today. I scrolled through my WaComm, desperate to see what she¡¯d input there. Did she add herself as a contact? A brief browse through my contacts determined that to be false, she hadn¡¯t put her number in there. Maybe she saved a location for me, and hopefully, a time. I opened the navigation and saw there was a new starred location, and an event tied to it. The time was for in fifteen minutes ¨C it was what had woken me up this morning, the reminder.


    I ran back to my bedroom, ignoring the ache in my head, threw on the closest pair of pants and shirt, finger combed my hair, and ran a brush over my teeth as quickly as humanly possible. I readied my car through the navigation, prepping it to take me to where Mea had indicated. The ETA said I¡¯d be eight minutes late ¨C I hoped she wouldn¡¯t be upset. It wasn¡¯t like that was very long, but something told me that she didn''t like to be kept waiting. I didn¡¯t want to make her wait, either.


    I swiped on my WaComm to start my car, the autodrive function prompting my vehicle to extract itself from the parking garage and approach my apartment. I met it outside as it pulled up the curb, excruciatingly slow and precise.


    The drive wasn¡¯t long, but it felt as if the car wasn¡¯t going as fast as it should be. Traffic went along, sure, but i felt each second ticking along as if each one was another point lost against me. I was so intrigued by this woman that I had to know more about her, more about her life, her people. What was this? I barely registered the scenery beyond the windows.


    The car eased to a stop, in the midst of a rustic, yet bustling, artistic side of town. This district was in the Nari¡¯e quarter, clear by the rundown buildings that surrounded me, but their age and decrepitness was decorative, with an air of intentional disarray that felt sophisticated in its roughness. Small shops with artisans selling their wares outside edged the streets, a few food trucks dotted the sidewalk, the sights and smells of a cultural center. I turned my head to see what we had stopped in front of - a small, nondescript coffee shop with large windows that took up the entire wall.


    That¡¯s when I saw her. She was up against the ceiling height windows, kneeling at a short table in what I presumed was traditional Nari¡¯e fashion, propped on a dense pillow. Her untamed hair extended in every direction like a cloud with electrical fingers probing for the next conductive object. It looked so soft; I wanted nothing more than to touch it, to squeeze it, to bunch it up in my hands. But I knew I couldn¡¯t. She sipped at a cup so miniature, it looked like a doll¡¯s. In a daze, I made my way to the shop¡¯s entrance. I hoped she wasn¡¯t angry with me for being late.


    I entered the coffee shop with a soft ding of the bell, notifying the employees of my presence. Steam wafted from the machines, soft chatter of the customers littered the air. A quick glance showed me that all of the customers were plainly Nari¡¯e, and I felt as if I stood out. It was odd to be a minority; I wondered if Nari¡¯e felt this way when out in my part of town. Most of the tables were short, like the one that Mea knelt at, though there was the bar you could sit at right next to the cashier, though a few bean bag chairs sat in the corner propped up near a bookshelf. It was a very small space, probably only capable of fitting twenty customers in at once. One barista manned the counter, rushing back and forth between the coffee machines and the tiny counter space where she cooked other menu items. It smelled good, and was probably the cleanest building in the Nari¡¯e quarter I¡¯d been in. Though, since I¡¯d really only been in seedy bars, that probably wasn¡¯t a fair comparison.


    I allowed myself to stare in her direction as I walked toward her. She looked even more radiant than what I¡¯d seen from the window. Her clothes, that I hadn¡¯t noticed earlier, were summery and breezy, even with the weather taking a colder turn into fall. She wore a long dress, baggy and rectangular; though, her curves were impossible to ignore, no matter what she covered them with. The patterns, bold and vibrant, accentuated them. The bright colors made her skin glow in the daylight. Already, she was more beautiful than I could fathom.


    She smiled when she saw me, and my heart stopped. It lurched in my chest, threatening to erupt from it. I choked. My fingers waggled in the air, a desperate effort to wave hello. I walked over to her, already wondering what it would take to see her again.


    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late,¡± I breathed as I knelt down across from her, mirroring her posture.


    ¡°I can understand, given the circumstances,¡± she said, smiling at me coyly through her thick eyelashes. ¡°Let me order you a Kinip¨­p¨­.¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure,¡± I said, settling in. Whatever a Kinip¨­p¨­ was, I suppose I¡¯d be about to try it.


    ¡°I can see your skepticism,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s just a traditional Nari¡¯e tea. We make it from a root we call Kinip¨­p¨­ as well. It¡¯s what I¡¯m drinking.¡± She lifted her tiny cup, a handmade ceramic with no handle.


    ¡°Do you drink this often?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my favorite,¡± she said. ¡°It makes me think of the islands.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever been there?¡± I asked, the question dead in my mouth. Of course, she¡¯s never been there; it¡¯d be impossible. They¡¯ve been uninhabitable upwards of a century, and she wasn¡¯t a day over twenty. Her face soured, unspeakable sadness washing over her eyes.


    ¡°No, but our family speaks of it as if it¡¯s still as it once was, retelling the memories of our ancestors. My great grandmother was born there. Though she¡¯s not always¡­ lucid.¡±


    A waitress I hadn¡¯t yet noticed suddenly appeared at our sides holding a tiny tray with an equally tiny cup on it, identical in nature to Mea¡¯s, but unique in its own construction. It clearly was handmade too, but in the same fashion. The waitress gave me a small, tight lipped polite smile, carefully placed the ceramic onto the table with a clink, and walked away, empty tray aloft.


    I stared down at the light brown liquid. The steam wafted up from it, carrying with it a pleasant, earthy, and herbal smell, almost like a medicine. I wasn¡¯t sure what to think about it. Would it taste like the leafy tea I was used to? Or more like¡­ a home brewed remedy? I didn¡¯t want Mea to think I wasn¡¯t cultured, so I picked up the cup gingerly and took the lightest of sips, barely wetting my tongue.


    It was a strong flavor, heady, similar to how it smelled, but with a distinct sweetness that I didn¡¯t expect. The liquid, hot and steamy, warmed me as I drank it, the heat spreading through my throat and into my extremities. I felt myself become sweaty nearly immediately.


    I looked up to see her brown eyes watching me, the color of freshly turned soil, the shape that of upturned and perfectly formed almonds. She looked amused; did I make a strange face?


    ¡°Do you like it?¡±


    It surprised me that I didn¡¯t have to lie. ¡°I do,¡± I said, the surprise clear in my voice. ¡°It¡¯s very soothing.¡±


    She smiled. ¡°It¡¯s my favorite thing to start the day with. A comfort, reminder of the home I never knew. It grounds me.¡±


    I took another sip, just watching her. Her eyes were now far away in thought, and I dare not disturb her. Instead, I watched her, mesmerized by her face and dreamy expressions. In that moment, I wanted to give her everything she was dreaming of ¨C whatever it happened to be.


    ¡°We live in such an advanced society, I can¡¯t believe we¡¯ve done nothing to fix it,¡± she said suddenly. ¡°Such a tragedy¡­ so many homes lost¡­so many lives¡­ at least Aruga was kind enough to open their borders to us simple savages.¡± Her tone grew cold and angry with every word she spoke.


    I blinked, shocked to hear the conversation turn this way. Aruga had been kind enough to open their borders to the refugees, allowing them a sanctuary in the cities, a place to sleep, a chance at survival. Why was she so angry?


    ¡°What happened in the islands was an accident. The scientists that investigated deemed it a wild radioactive volcano, poisoning the wildlife and people there. The madness that resulted wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault, just¡­sometimes bad things happen.¡±


    She stared at me, her almond eyes sharpening. ¡°Oh, bad things happen, do they?¡± She sighed and looked out the window onto the street, watching the people bustle by with their lives. ¡°I know I¡¯m bitter. But it¡¯s nearly been 100 years. I ache to see my heritage, to bring my grandmother back to her home.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how to respond. I didn¡¯t have an answer for her, no solution. ¡°Would you like to go on a walk?¡± I picked my half empty cup and finished it. ¡°I¡¯ll pay for your drink. Let¡¯s go distract ourselves from the past. What do you say?¡±


    She watched me for a moment, contemplating. Then, she picked up her cup and finished it, just as I had. ¡°Alright, Torven. I¡¯ll allow you to play your games. But before we go, there¡¯s one more thing I want.¡±


    She didn¡¯t deem to tell me what it was, instead, rushing up to the counter to speak to the waitress. A minute later, the waitress returned with two small greasy bags, holding them out to Mea. She took them, turned back to face me, held the bags up like a golden prize, and smiled.


    Hurriedly, I typed in the necessary information on my WaComm to pay for our meal, noting the expensive cost. It was more than I thought it would be, although Kinipopo must be harder and harder to get by. It was suicide to travel to the islands, and it was probably nearly impossible to grow it here in Aruga. Tropical vegetation was a tricky bunch, or so I¡¯d heard.


    ~


    The street was busy this morning, even for a weekend. People still rushed to work, some clicking away on their WaComms, others simply speeding by in their cars on the street. In comparison, we were lazy, strolling up and down the side streets, people watching and taking in the sights of the city.


    ¡°What¡¯s in those bags?¡± I asked, curiosity burning within me. She held them like they were sacred, precious items, carefully and tightly holding the bags closed while we made our way to the street.


    ¡°Puni,¡± she answered, which was no answer at all. I didn¡¯t know what that meant. It could¡¯ve been anything; it was obviously Nari¡¯e, and I didn¡¯t speak their language.


    ¡°¡­and what is that?¡± I questioned further when she didn¡¯t elaborate.


    She laughed. ¡°It¡¯s twisted dough, fried, and coated in sugar.¡±


    ¡°Well then, share.¡±


    She laughed again, passing one of the bags over to me.


    Tentatively, I extracted a Puni carefully from the bag. I turned it over, eyeing it carefully. It looked just like any other doughnut I¡¯d had before, but in a different shape. Was it really so simple? I took a bite; yes, it was. Simple and perfect, exactly what I wanted.


    ¡°So, Torven, tell me about yourself,¡± Mea said between nips at the Puni that she held delicately between two fingers.


    I blanched. What do I say? ¡°Uh, well, my name is Torven,¡± I sputtered, nearly dropping the Puni. ¡±Which you already know. I attend the graduate school at Aruga State for sociology.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Sociology?¡± she said, clearly surprised. ¡°A learned man, I see. Not politics, though?¡±


    Obviously, she knew who I was enough to ask that question. My last name had given it away last night, that much was clear.


    ¡°Eh, I¡¯m sure someday. My father would never hear otherwise. I have to continue the family legacy, he says. But right now, I just want to learn how to help our country. Taking a closer look at how life really works here, how society functions here, is one way to do that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a perspective you don¡¯t often hear from politicians,¡± Mea said.


    ¡°I¡¯m not one!¡±


    ¡°Sure, ¡®maybe someday¡¯ Montgomery.¡±


    I laughed; I couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°I know I¡¯m na?ve to think that I can find the answers to all of our problems in a textbook, but I don¡¯t think it hurts to look.¡± I took another luxurious bite of the Puni. ¡°What about you? I know barely anything, and here you know too much about me as it is.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s far too uneven. I owe you some answers,¡± she allowed. ¡°Where do I start?¡±


    ¡°Anywhere you like,¡± I replied. She didn¡¯t immediately talk, so I decided to help her out. ¡°How about your family. You mentioned your grandmother. What about your parents, or siblings?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, alright. My parents work their fingers to the bone in the textile factory, the same one. My grandmother lives with us, and we all help take care of her.¡±


    ¡°We all? How many of you are there?¡±


    She reddened. ¡°Seven.¡±


    ¡°Seven kids?!¡±


    ¡°Yep, there¡¯s seven of us,¡± she said, her voice trailing off. ¡°Four brothers and two sisters, then me. I¡¯m the third oldest.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you have that many siblings. I don¡¯t have any.¡±


    She gave me a look. ¡°I believe that.¡±


    ¡°I have so many more questions,¡± I said, surprising myself that I genuinely wanted to hear more about her family. ¡°It sounds like you have a crazy household. I bet it¡¯s full.¡±


    ¡°Not right now,¡± she lamented. ¡°Too empty.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about something else. What do you want to achieve with your degree? You say you¡¯d do politics for your father, but what is it that you really want to do?¡±


    I knew she was changing the subject to avoid some painful topic, but I allowed it. She didn¡¯t know me well enough to tell me, but I was dying to know. She was a puzzle I had to figure out, and a mystery to solve. It looked like I would have to be patient to find all of the clues.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to help people, in whatever capacity I can,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve come to terms with my father¡¯s expectations, the city¡¯s expectations of me. I can help people as a politician, maybe even a lot of them. I¡¯d like to try.¡±


    ¡°When do you graduate?¡±


    ¡°Here in a few weeks, actually.¡± I looked up at her, hopeful, her golden jewelry glinting in the sun and temporarily blinding me. ¡°Maybe you can celebrate with me when it¡¯s all over.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen how you celebrate. I¡¯ll pass,¡± she said, though she wore a slight, tired smile.


    I blushed. ¡°I don¡¯t usually¡­ spend my evenings that way.¡± I swallowed hard. ¡°My friends¡­ well, colleagues¡­ took the reins on the entertainment.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re allowed to do whatever you like in your spare time,¡± she said. ¡°Freedom is the ability to choose, and I¡¯m not judging. Nari¡¯e people believe in the pursuit of personal happiness, as long as it¡¯s not at the expense of others'' paths. It¡¯s our most core belief.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me more about the Nari¡¯e? What they¡¯re really like?¡± The sociologist in me was reeling at the chance to interview and learn more about the Nari¡¯e culture from a real Nari¡¯e woman. The man in me just wanted to hear her speak.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± she huffed. ¡°I¡¯m sure you know some of this.¡±


    ¡°Tell me anyway.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve always been tight knit, living in communes on the islands. It¡¯s similar now, just a different environment. My grandmother told me that the most revered of our people were the inventors, the engineers, the creators¡­ we didn¡¯t use technology in the way we do here, everything was tidal powered, simple machines, but elaborate systems to perform the tasks we needed. My people thrived in the tropical climate, lived off of the islands¡¯ gifts, and worshipped the sun, the sand, the sea.¡± She sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve always been careful to tell the stories of our ancestors through oral tradition, learning the language of our forefathers, our customs. But now, it¡¯s warped¡­¡± she trailed off.


    ¡°What do you mean, it¡¯s warped? What is?¡±


    ¡°Our culture, our lives. You see us as savages ¨C don¡¯t lie. We came rushing to your shores, escaping that sudden island madness, bringing only our island tools. Aruga is used to their costly tech, so you see us like we¡¯re children experimenting with rocks, treat us like vermin, shove us in a corner of your city like a cage, barely allow us any civil liberties. We are merely permitted to exist in sufferance, at your leisure,¡± she spat.


    I blinked.


    ¡°Ka Po¡¯e stand up against these injustices,¡± each word enunciated with a sharp tongue of poisoned knives, ¡°and we protest the government that seeks to keep our heads down. We would be your guests, except even guests get a seat at the table.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± I stuttered.


    She sighed again, for the thousandth time. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t mean to take it out on you. By law, I am a half-citizen of Aruga, as I was born here. As were my parents. But I still am not Arugan. I don¡¯t expect you to understand.¡±


    ¡°I think I do.¡± I didn¡¯t. ¡°But maybe you could help me truly see.¡±


    ¡°You want to understand what I¡¯m all about? What we¡¯re all about?¡± A wolfish grin haunted her pretty features, making her look fierce and alien. At the same time, I wanted to kiss her. ¡°Come with me.¡±


    She took my hand, and we began to run, pulling me behind her. I didn¡¯t know where we were going, but the adrenaline pumped through my veins, the excitement and curiosity fueling me to push farther, faster. This went on, our lungs heaving in sync, our breath heavy in a pair, and I couldn¡¯t think of a better place to be.


    ¡°I could¡¯ve¡­.driven us here, you know,¡± I said between panting breaths. ¡°It would¡¯ve been¡­ faster¡­ and easier.¡±


    She only smiled at me, her hair wild, loose from its clip, her eyes afire and her cheeks flaming red. Her teeth were white and sparkly, the canine glinting at me in the sunlight. She was untamed. ¡°It wasn¡¯t so far.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize I was on a date with a superwoman,¡± I joked. ¡°We ran for at least a mile straight.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so this is a date?¡± she said, eyebrow raised at me, her feverish face grinning back at me, all mischief and pure vivaciousness.


    ¡°Is it not? I paid for the food, and now you¡¯ve held my hand,¡± I pointed out helpfully. ¡°For a whole mile, even.¡±


    She leaned in close to me. I forgot how to breathe.


    ¡°Awful ambitious, lover boy,¡± she said, her brown eyes becoming molten honey in the sun. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know when it¡¯s a date.¡±


    My brain short circuited. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± I said, years of etiquette training and politeness taking over to the default response.


    She laughed at my obvious reaction to her. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, my involuntary reaction to her close proximity. She knew the effect she had on me by now, of that there was no doubt. It wasn¡¯t until now the thought even occurred to me to look up. We were in front of another restaurant, but this one was distinctly Arugan, judging by the name.


    ¡°At the risk of sounding¡­ stupid,¡± I said, directing my attention to the tiny restaurant in front of us. ¡°What are we doing here?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a risk if it¡¯s inevitable,¡± she replied. ¡°And there¡¯s something I¡¯d like you to see.¡± She started walking to the front door. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    Blindly, I did. I had no idea what I was walking into, what I was doing, but all I knew was that I had to know more. This woman was intoxicating; something about her had me drugged. I glanced at the door as she swung it open, noticing a sign with large, red letters that read ¡®No Savages¡¯. Mea ignored it, pushing through regardless, her confidence oozing into every step she took.


    She passed by the hostess, who glared at her, promptly seating herself at the counter next to an elderly man. She nodded at him in hello; he laboriously turned his head to view her through heavily hooded eyes. I sat myself on her other side, nervous and posture stick straight.


    ¡°Are you hungry already?¡± I asked. We had just come from breakfast, after all. How could she be hungry?


    She shook her head, then caught the eye of the waiter behind the counter. ¡°I¡¯ll have a water, please. Ice.¡±


    The waiter was collecting food from the cook onto a tray when he stared back at her. He shot his eyes towards the hostess and the door, then silently continued his work, piling plates as precariously as possible, balancing the food just so, ready to take it out to the customers.


    The door swung open, just as it had for us, but this time, a windstorm gusted through. The entrance was kept ajar, held back by a Nari¡¯e woman with long braids. She looked familiar, somehow. People flooded through, of various shapes, sizes, and colors, yet all Nari¡¯e. They saw Mea immediately, and filled in around her, taking up the empty spaces at the counter, any empty tables, anything available. All too soon the tiny restaurant was filled to the brim with bright eyed Nari¡¯e, waiting to be acknowledged or served.


    The woman who had let them all in, pushed her way through to Mea.


    ¡°Mahalo k¨¥ia hui¡¯ana, Ha¡¯ana,¡± Mea said, smiling as she greeted the woman in their native tongue.


    ¡°You need to be more careful,¡± Ha¡¯ana whispered sharply through a tightly clenched smile. ¡°Why did you come here early, and by yourself?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not alone,¡± she said, gesturing to me.


    Ha¡¯ana¡¯s eyes met mine, and recognition suddenly flashed through them. This was the woman I¡¯d met last night with Mea, the one who I¡¯d thought was the leader at first. She was Mea¡¯s right hand person, the second in command of the Po¡¯e. I shrank back from her stare; I felt as if she were staring down into my soul.


    ¡°This asshole that you met last night?!¡± she hissed. ¡°He does not count!¡±


    Mea shrugged. Ha¡¯ana seethed. I tried my hardest to blend in.


    In my peripheral vision, I noticed some movement aside from the quiet bustle of whispers from the gathered Nari¡¯e. The hostess was speaking to the cook, the head cook, and possibly owner of this establishment. She looked angry, and her words seemed to be making him turn red. I half expected steam to rise out of his ears. She was pointing with a sharp finger at the people seated inside ¨C doubtless the Nari¡¯e. This wasn¡¯t going to go well, I could tell.


    The head cook pounded over to us, his thick arms crossed in front of his wide belly, his full cheeks as red as his forehead, the hostess following behind in hot pursuit.


    ¡°You need to leave,¡± the chef spat at Mea, gesturing with a ham fist at the rest of the Nari¡¯e seated there. ¡°We don¡¯t serve you here.¡±


    The hostess glared from over the chef¡¯s meaty shoulder, her eyes piercing and nose scrunched. I saw Ha¡¯ana tense up, her shoulders raised and fists clench. Mea didn¡¯t twitch a single muscle, her entire demeanor still relaxed and calm. She ignored the comment, settling deeper into her seat. I shuffled in my own seat, incredibly uncomfortable. It was clear that these comments were not directed at me, even though I was obviously with this group. My prominent Arugan features, the fine, blond hair and pale blue eyes I sported garnering favor with the chef and hostess.


    I gained the attention of the chef. As he hadn¡¯t elicited a reaction from Mea, he turned to speak to me.


    ¡°Keep better company,¡± he advised through thin lips and gritted teeth. ¡°Aruga shouldn¡¯t bow to these savages.¡± He nodded his head at the exit. ¡°Take your friends and go, or there¡¯ll be trouble.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to respond; a common theme with me these days. My eyes flicked back between Mea and Ha¡¯ana, seeing a peaceful fa?ade and a sizzling anger, respectively.


    ¡°Uh, no, sir, I ¨C¡°


    A hand on my arm stopped my speech. It was Mea¡¯s, silently asking me to stop.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t doing anything wrong, here,¡± she said smoothly, her soft voice deliberate and calm. ¡°We only would like to be served.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t see the sign?¡± shouted the chef, pointing his fat fingers towards the front door.


    ¡°That sign shouldn¡¯t exist,¡± Ha¡¯ana spat.


    ¡°And yet it does, bitch.¡± The chef redirected his meaty arm, his fist flattened into a wide, flat weapon.


    His clumsy throw of hand, slowed by his considerable size, allowed Mea enough time to duck. Even still, her movement was fluid grace, easy, confident evasion, as if she had all the time in the world to avoid his blow. Regardless, Ha¡¯ana stood hastily. Her braids flew in the air, one smacking me in the face, stinging, as she shoved herself between the chef and Mea.


    ¡°Get her out of here,¡± she hissed at me.


    Surprised, I followed her instruction. I reached for Mea, who had already made to stand. We slipped out of the welling chaos, not quite erupted, but only moments away from pure violence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the chef rise his hand to throw another blow, this time at Ha¡¯ana. Her bared teeth glinted, her fierceness like that of a mother bear, defending her young.


    Then the door shut behind us, and suddenly we were out in the street. We began to walk away, but as we watched from the street, the views from the window were nothing short of terrifying. Tempers flew, the chef having started the ruckus, other customers joined in, all doing their best to remove the Nari¡¯e presence from the restaurant, any way they could.


    ¡°I hate this,¡± she said, pulling me away with tears welling up in her eyes. ¡°I hate that I ask this of them.¡±


    Stunned, I didn¡¯t know what to say. I was still so confused, and I had so many questions yet to ask, words staying still on the tip of my tongue.


    ¡°Hell is breaking loose in there, because I asked for it! And my people are paying the price!¡± she yelled. We were half walking, half running, away from that cursed place. Passerby on the street gave us odd looks; we were going far too fast for normal walking speed, and now Mea was yelling to herself. They averted their gazes, though, unwilling to insert themselves into our drama. I envied them their privilege.


    ¡°Mea, what do you mean? What are you talking about?¡± I stuttered. ¡°I¡¯m sorry ¨C I¡¯m still so confused. You said you would explain what you¡¯re all about, but all I have are more questions than before.¡±


    She sighed. ¡°Ka Po¡¯e are a political activist group, as you know. All we want are the same rights as you in the nation we were born in. Ideally, we would be able to go home to our islands, but we know that¡¯s not possible.¡± She looked up at me with baleful, puppy eyes, the brown irises glimmering and reflective in the sunlight. ¡°That was a sit in protest. That restaurant is notorious for denying Nari¡¯e, my people, and the legislature is ambiguous enough that they both can and cannot. It¡¯s a foot in the door.¡±


    ¡°But it became so violent, so quickly,¡± I said. ¡°How can that have been the right choice?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand? Change is violent,¡± she replied, sadness thickening her words, weighing them down with the responsibilities of a leader. ¡°And we didn¡¯t want that to happen. Every time we schedule a protest, a charity event, anything, we have the highest goals of peace. All we want is to get our voice across. But every single time we try, we are met with hatred. And what should we do, smile meekly while they kill us? Say thank you, while they steal our children and murder our families?¡±


    The last sentence she spoke as if it were venom in her tongue, painful to say, but necessary to remove from her mouth. I was stunned silent. It was an effect she had on me often. I was smitten with this warrior queen, this activist. I wanted to understand her, to know her pain, to solve her problems. But something told me I needed a better perspective, first.


    We had been walking for quite a while, almost to the Nari¡¯e quarter of the city. There was a park nearby, tempting us with green and lush trees, freshly trimmed foliage and perfectly tended flowers to soothe our incensed minds. Wordlessly, I tilted my head towards it, silently asking we could pause for a moment. She understood me, changing her direction and speed to lead us to a park bench, shaded by a leafy tree, dappling the sunlight.


    Delighted, I sat next to her on the bench. She settled in next to me, that dappled sun painting her hair, finding highlights that weren¡¯t there before, reflecting from her septum ring, and glittering her fiery eyes. She straightened her clothes as she sat, flickering her eyelashes up at me.


    ¡°Can we be frank, here?¡±


    ¡°Well, I can be Mea,¡± she said, the corner of her mouth laughing at me.


    I sheepishly grinned at her, then the seriousness of the conversation straightened my face. ¡°Tell me what your people need. I want to help you. What can I do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, probably,¡± she said. ¡°But we¡¯re dying here. We want peace. We want rights. We want to live. And apparently? That¡¯s too much to ask.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to go home to your islands?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, shifting in her seat so that she faced me. ¡°But we know that¡¯s impossible. We have to settle for the here and now.¡±


    My eyes settled on her full lips, smooth and curved with no cupids now, instead. ¡°The here and now?¡±


    She smiled, the corners of her mouth beckoning as sweet as sugar. ¡°Meet me here on Saturday, at three.¡± Without looking away from me, she typed something in her WaComm. She tapped it to mine, sending the message directly to me. I didn¡¯t dare look away from her honey brown eyes, intoxicated.


    I leaned in closer and closed my eyes, not believing what was happening, what could happen.


    A breath of air, and she was gone.


    I opened my eyes to an empty bench; she had left me, awaiting her touch, gone in an instant.


    Saturday.

 Four

    The next few days were a daze to me. All I could think of was my wild weekend, the failed night out of celebration with my supposed friends, my fated meeting with Mea Kaika, and all of the drama that followed with her. I was drunk with her, unable to think of anything else. Which was rather inconvenient, as finals were this week. I had long hours ahead of me, a long week too. Fortunately, I had been doing well in my classes and genuinely enjoyed the course work, so while this was certainly a culmination of large effort, I would really be tying off loose ends, which was rather satisfying. I had a thesis paper to write, a research effort I¡¯d been working on for the last year, which had been effectively finished months ago. I¡¯ve just been tweaking and fine tuning the writing of it since then. Other than that, I had a few written exams to take which would take some rote memorization and refreshment, but otherwise, would be very doable. I felt fortunate that I would be certain to graduate the coming weekend. I daydreamed of putting that ceremonial garb on my head, looking ridiculous in those robes, and having the dean of the college hand me my piece of paper, filled with promises, on that stage.


    What would come next is what scared me, however. I didn¡¯t know exactly what to expect, and at the same time, I knew exactly what would happen. My father invested in my education because he knew it would produce an educated man to follow his example. He would expect me to pursue a career in politics, just as he had. I just wasn¡¯t sure how much time I had to enjoy my life before he came to collect his dues. I owed him, after all.


    I walked out of the last classroom with a taste of sadness in my mouth, lingering. I¡¯d enjoyed the time I¡¯d spent here, learning, gaining a new perspective, conductive research. And now, I''m finished. Assuming everything went as well as I expected, then I will graduate as I figured, and had my master¡¯s degree in sociology. I¡¯ll walk across that stage with my fellows, be bestowed the honors that I¡¯d earned, and begin the rest of my life. I just couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯d just completed a chapter of my life I¡¯d never be able to revisit.


    This had been the worst of struggles to concentrate this week, though. My mind had been filled with thoughts of a certain Nari¡¯e woman, of her wild, thick hair, her fluid liquid golden brown eyes, her endless curves; they tortured me from dawn to dusk. It was all I could do to gather enough focus to write anything down for  an exam, or present my studies. But fortunately, everything went well enough that I felt I would be alright. I didn¡¯t regret my thoughts, in any case. All I wanted to do was see her again.


    Saturday, she had whispered to me, when we¡¯d last spoken, right before we¡¯d almost kissed. Or maybe I was delusional, who could say. I was certainly that. But I¡¯d made it out alive, or at least, I thought I had. All I could think of was Saturday, of seeing her again. OF course, she hadn¡¯t specified when or where, but I would wait for her all day if I had to, all week, all year. She was worth the wait. Knowing her was worth all of it.


    It was a Friday, only one day away from Saturday, when I¡¯d officially finished with graduate school. I had plans to come home, relax, watch a movie and sip on whiskey that was a gift from my father, before figuring out what I¡¯d do for the rest of my life. I was headed there now, half paying attention to my surroundings, but mostly not, while I called my car to come pick me up. I¡¯d driven today, as I knew I¡¯d be too tired to walk home.


    Waiting outside the student union building for my car to arrive, I spotted Joh and Lip coming this way. They gave me an upwards head nod before approaching. They were in my class, of course, along with an exceptionally large lecture filled with almost one hundred other people. Aruga State was a gigantic university, particularly known for transforming students into government officials, and was religiously frequented by the nobility class. The two twins walked up to me, looking out of place without their third friend usually attached to their hip, Malley. I nodded back in hello. Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Glad to be done, eh?¡± Joh said to me with a half grin.


    I inhaled deeply through my nose and exhaled, as if blowing away all of the stress it took to get here. ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel real yet.¡±


    ¡°Heh, I know what you mean,¡± Lip said, grinning just like his twin. ¡°You going to celebrate this weekend? We¡¯re going to.¡±


    I thought of the last time I¡¯d spent time with them celebrating; getting nearly blind drunk, being mugged, and then lastly, meeting Mea Kaika. It wasn¡¯t all bad. But I wasn¡¯t quite prepared to willingly spend time with them like that anytime soon.


    ¡°No, nothing crazy,¡± I said casually. ¡°Just family, I think.¡± Hopefully that would be enough for them; I didn¡¯t want them to try and make plans for me when I was trying to meet Mea. It would be hard enough to come see her, let alone working around their shenanigans.


    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Joh said, Lip nodding in the background. ¡°We¡¯ve got family obligations, too. The gears never stop grinding, am I right?¡±


    ¡°Ha, you¡¯re right man.¡± My car pulled up to the curb, pinging my WaComm to signal its obvious arrival. ¡°Hey, well, my ride¡¯s here. I¡¯ll see you around.¡±


    They waved goodbye as I slid into the vehicle, eager to escape those two. While I was sure they mostly meant well, they weren¡¯t really my friends. I didn¡¯t quite enjoy their company, even though they were classmates and fellow nobility.


    The car began to cruise up to speed, the movement lulling me to sleep. The stress and efforts of the day seeped into my brain, allowing me to doze off comfortably as my car took me home.


    Ping ping


    I¡¯d arrived at my apartment before I¡¯d even realized my eyes had closed. The pings were two separate notifications; the first, the most obvious one, was that I had arrived at my destination. The second was a message from my father. I ignored it for now, instead, stepping out of the car, sending it to storage, and then walking up to my apartment. I ached to think of nothing at all; my brain was spent, tired, worn out. No more thoughts, thank you.


    While waiting for the elevator to take me up, I scrolled through the WaComm newsfeed. Another article speculating about the rampant murderer, intent on killing more nobles. I shrugged that off; nobody of note had been killed yet, and the police were sure to catch them any day now. Ridiculous that it¡¯d gone this far.


    My apartment was a welcome sight, the wallscreen beckoning me, the whiskey bottles in the liquor cabinet singing their siren songs, promising a relaxing evening to myself. I couldn¡¯t wait. I poured myself a shot as soon as I walked in, before even taking off my shoes. A flick on the WaComm, and the wallscreen was on. I sipped at the dark amber liquid in the crystal glass, the burn as it slid down my throat so sweet. I slumped into the couch, the cushions as soft and welcoming as a cloud in pillow form.


    A few minutes later, I remembered my father had messaged me. I sighed; I guess I should check it, as it could be an urgent message. I twisted my wrist to read the message on my WaComm.


    Important dinner meeting. Be at the estate 1500 tomorrow afternoon. Black tie.


    I threw my head back against the pillow, the whisky sloshing in my glass from the movement. Some stupid dinner I had to be at, another group of people I had to schmooze with my father. More politics. And, as usual, it was formal. I¡¯d have to put on my best suit, or at least one of them. I guess there could be worse things.


    But just because I had to be nice and put together tomorrow didn¡¯t mean that I had to be tonight. I finished the whiskey in one shot and turned up the volume on wallscreen. Tonight¡¯s just for me.

 Five

    The estate was immaculate, as always. I prepared myself, straightening my tie and smoothing over my hair as I stood in front of the door. The Montgomery mansion was really only used for special occasions anymore, as my father effectively lived in his penthouse office, and my stepmother Cerise worked just as hard. It¡¯d been months and months since I¡¯d even been here.


    I cracked the door open, staring down at my feet as they lifted themselves over the threshold. I had just barely made it onto the cool marble of the family mansion¡¯s perfect entryway when shouts erupted, startling me.


    ¡°Surprise!¡±


    A cacophony of merry cheers and whistles caused me to look up like a deer caught in headlights, stopping me in my tracks. The headlights in question was a thick crowd of people, some whose faces stood out to me straight away, like my father and stepmother, while others were merely bland, generic acquaintances, those who were relevant enough to be on the guest list, but not anyone I knew well. Such was typical of parties like these; an occasion like this was just an excuse for the elites to schmooze, dipping down into the political barrel and extracting those they wished to use. A part of me dipped down in sadness; there was no way I was escaping this party anytime soon. Hopefully it wouldn¡¯t stop me from seeing Mea.


    My stepmother, Cerise, rushed over to me from the front of the crowd. She gave a warm hug, her smile and happiness so infectious I couldn¡¯t stop the grin on my own face. She truly was a kind woman, someone whose presence I didn¡¯t mind in the slightest. In the midst of the brief, tight squeeze, she whispered in my ear.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget to speak to your father,¡± she said, the words rushed and excited. ¡°He has a surprise for you.¡±


    I nodded as she released me from the hug.


    ¡°Well, were you surprised?¡±


    A half smile on my face, I nodded again. ¡°This for my graduation?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not every day a young man receives a graduate degree from Aruga State University,¡± she said, hands on her hips, mocking me. ¡°Now go greet your guests, there¡¯s so many people here to see you.¡± She gestured towards the crowd, which had broken up and settled into random places further into the house. I caught a whiff of what could be sweets coming from the kitchen, and heard a light tune lazily wander its way through the hallways perhaps from the salon.


    I went off in search of a drink to fill my hands. While I was used to this sort of socializing, it never ceased to make me somewhat nervous. I¡¯ve practiced perfect and polite responses, questions to ask, precisely for this kind of day, but no matter how much memorization, I always needed a bit of a crutch. I spied a waiter carrying a tray filled with flutes of sparkling liquid. Today, the crutch would be champagne. The waiter saw my attention and made his way towards me. I plucked a flute from the tray, gripping the stem tightly.


    I followed the party-goers towards the salon, where a violinist played that simple tune I¡¯d heard earlier, accompanied by a pianist who occupied our family grand piano.  A few people gathered here, mostly a few other cabinet members who I knew in name only. I nodded at them politely and continued on.


    Passing the kitchen, I peeked inside to see our family cook busy inside with several assistants, serving little hors d¡¯oeuvres and appetizers, while a larger dinner course was being prepared. I wondered if everyone would stay for dinner. I inhaled a heavenly scent of basil and rosemary coated something, the herbs delightful to the nose. But no guests were here, although I wouldn¡¯t mind stopping to say hello to our chef. She had always made the best cinnamon rolls for me as a child, which were my favorite. But she was clearly busy at the moment; I¡¯d have to wait until the rush had passed.


    I moseyed down the hallway, following the dull roar of chatter and mingling of the party guests. Most had settled in the patio area, a lush, classic partially outdoor room that boasted extravagant d¨¦cor and a fantastic view of the gardens. I flicked my eyes over the crowd gathered there at tables and standing around the empty space. Now that they weren¡¯t so thickly squeezed together, I could make out individual faces. Joh, Lip, and Malley stood near the temporary bar, manned by another waiter in similar uniform, dutifully refilling the three¡¯s rapidly emptying glasses.


    They noticed that I¡¯d noticed them and waved me over. Internally, I groaned, really not wanting to be at this party any longer than I strictly needed to be, and also because the last time we¡¯d hung out, we¡¯d parted on strange terms. But, nevertheless, I pasted on a perfect polite host smile and walked over to greet them.


    ¡°Thanks for coming,¡± I said as I got close enough. ¡°I believe I should be congratulating you as well, though.¡± The three had graduated with me.


    ¡°Heh, thanks,¡± said Malley, taking the congratulations for the three of them. ¡°But this is your party ¨C drink up!¡± He handed me another flute of champagne. I hadn¡¯t even sipped from my first one, and now I had a drink in each hand. Malley didn¡¯t seem to notice.


    ¡°Oh ¨C we didn¡¯t let on about your party, did we?¡± Joh asked, elbowing Lip. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have asked him about his plans, twit.¡±


    I scrunched my brows, confused for a moment. Then I remembered that they had indeed asked me about my Saturday plans when we¡¯d graduated and left school.


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t ruin the surprise,¡± I reassured them. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s good to see you again,¡± I said, lifting the champagne flute in the air as a mock toast. I turned away, eager to get this over with and try to find Mea.


    The three of them nodded eagerly, always the yes men, trying to ride the coattails of my societal status. They¡¯d only ever tried to schmooze me; I knew they weren¡¯t sincerely my friends.


    Leaving them to the bar cart, I walked a few more steps out of the way. I hadn¡¯t made it very far before I¡¯d noticed my father, standing proud and tall next to Robert Chetland, the current Prime Minister. Even though our family was of a high rank in the Cabinet, it was still a prestigious honor to have the Prime Minister at your graduation party. My father noticed my attention, catching my eye and nodding as I approached.


    I tentatively stepped in his direction, suddenly more nervous than ever. This was the Prime Minister, after all, and who knew what my father expected from me. Finally, I reached them. My father, who had watched me approach, turned towards me.


    ¡°Robert, this is my son, Torven,¡± he said, introducing me.


    ¡°Congratulations, my boy!¡± Robert said, his full cheeks red and merry. ¡°I¡¯ve heard good things about you. Your father simply can¡¯t stop bragging!¡±


    ¡°Ah, Robert, you know I¡¯m proud of my son. I can¡¯t help it.¡±


    I felt my cheeks heat; my father didn¡¯t often speak this way. I glanced up to see his expression. His smile looked genuine, his eyes far away.


    ¡°Well, now he¡¯s ready to follow in your footsteps. Aren¡¯t you?¡± he said, directing his question to me.


    ¡°Uh, of course sir. Our family serves Aruga. I¡¯d do anything to further her greatness.¡± Mentally, I let out a breath of relief, once more thanking my practiced responses.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good lad,¡± he said, clapping me on my shoulder with a meaty hand. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your father. I hear he has good news for you.¡±


    With that enigmatic farewell, Robert Chetland walked away and was immediately intercepted by some other cabinet member eager for his attention.


    Then it was just me and my father. I handed him my untouched flute of champagne, the one that Malley had just given me. I still had barely touched my first one. Ralen took it gratefully. A moment of awkward silence grew between us when neither of us knew how to start.


    ¡°I heard- ¡° I said as he began to speak.


    ¡°I have something ¨C¡° he said at the same time.


    I sheepishly grinned at him. ¡°You, first.¡±


    ¡°I have something to tell you, son,¡± he said, his eyes tired. The bags underneath them looked so much more substantial than I¡¯d initially noticed, though his expression was one of excitement and hope.


    ¡°Cerise said as much,¡± I said, nodding.


    He cleared his throat. ¡°As you will one day be the Lord Montgomery, as you have now finished with college, I¡¯d like to officially appoint you as my apprentice.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, father,¡± I said, feigning surprise, even though myself and everyone else around me knew it was inevitable. I was the only child of Ralen Montgomery - of course I was his heir.


    ¡°I want you to know that I truly am proud of you,¡± Ralen continued. ¡°You¡¯ll be a great Lord someday. Maybe even Prime Minister,¡± he winked.


    ¡°Father, that¡¯d be a long shot, don¡¯t you think?¡± I fidgeted with my glass, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The current Prime Minister was standing right there.


    ¡°Not with the right help. Is that something you¡¯d want to do?¡±


    I paused, as if this was an answer I had to consider. The truth was, I¡¯ve known the answer for most of my life. It¡¯s what I was born for, as a sociologist, as an heir, as a Montgomery. ¡°It¡¯s what I¡¯ve wanted for a long time. I truly believe I could serve the people of Aruga well.¡±


    Ralen nodded gravely. ¡°It¡¯s serious business, that. But I have faith in you. You could do great things.¡± He looked off into the crowd contemplatively. ¡°I¡¯ve been helping pave your way there, son. We can speak of it more, later. Just know you¡¯ll need allies.¡±


    I nodded, unsure what he was really saying. Of course, I¡¯d need to convince the other Lords to vote for me, but I wasn¡¯t even a Lord yet. That wouldn¡¯t happen until my father passed away, or resigned his own Lordship to me, and he wasn¡¯t even yet sixty. Although, I suppose it makes sense to start building relationships sooner rather than later. Politics are certainly a long game.


    ¡°Son, tell Cerise I¡¯m retiring for the evening if she asks for me. I¡¯m not feeling so well.¡± He gripped his arm tightly, his lips taut and pulled into a thin line. He stepped away with careful, calculated, and precise steps, as if he would tumble over were he to place his foot wrong.


    I paused for a moment, watching my father make his way through the crowd, clutching his arm, each step an exercise in composure. It was obvious to me, the way that he moved, that he was in pain. I wondered what was wrong with him ¨C my father had always seemed hale and hearty to me, before. Still watching him, I made to go find some of those hors d¡¯oeuvres that the chef had made, when suddenly, I smacked into someone, splattering champagne in every direction.


    She blinked, surprised, holding a nearly empty champagne flute as well, brushing away the liquid from her sparkling dress. That was what I had seen first ¨C the drops of alcohol on that glittering cloth, a shimmery gold spattered with drops of stains.


    ¡°I am so sorry!¡± I nearly shouted, flustered.


    She looked up at me with large blue eyes and perfectly coiffed and curled pale blonde hair. She seemed more amused than upset, but I wasn¡¯t going to take the risk. Besides, everyone would¡¯ve seen my blunder. I had to try and make up for it, even if she was a stranger, she was still a guest in my home. For some reason.


    An intelligent waitress had seen the collision and promptly brought us a cloth napkin before I¡¯d even the chance or the thought to ask for one. She presented it to me, pressing it into my hands, as if to say, ¡®don¡¯t mess this up¡¯, before leaving. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°My deepest apologies, miss¡­?¡± I asked, handing her the napkin.


    ¡°Alyss,¡± she bent her head in greeting, accepting the napkin I held out to her. She began to dab at the glimmering dress she wore.


    ¡°Sincerest apologies, Miss Alyss,¡± I said. ¡°What can I do to make up for my mistake?¡±


    She paused cleaning up to look me in the eye once more. I found myself wishing her big blue eyes were of a certain golden brown hue instead. ¡°Perhaps a dance from the gentleman would ease my displeasure? Assuming he does not step on my feet.¡±


    ¡°The gentleman will try his best,¡± I said, a wry smile on my face. I extended a hand, bowing down as propriety expected of me when a gentleman asks a lady to dance. She took it, her fingers dainty and soft against my own.


    I led her to the center of the patio. There hadn¡¯t been any musicians here yet, only the violinist and pianist in the salon, but after a quick and sharp glance to a waiter, the violinist was hastily and quickly brought out to the patio before we¡¯d quite reached the center. We set our champagne glasses on a table as we passed by, as we no longer would have idle hands to hold them with. The musician started to play, a classic melody, lilting through the air as we took up the proper dancing positions.


    We began to dance, our movement smooth and fluid, like water flowing from a pitcher into a glass. Inevitable, turbulent, and beautiful.


    ¡°So, are you attending college?¡± I asked, trying to fill the silence. Her steps were light and dainty, but with such grace I felt incompetent beside her. Though I knew I was an accomplished enough dancer - every Lord must have his knowledge on such matters for times like these - she was leagues beyond me.


    She smiled coyly at me, her eyes flicking up through thick lashes. ¡°I am, as all Batemans must.¡±


    I twirled her around as the music required, her hair fluttering as she spun. ¡°And what do you study?¡±


    ¡°Business management,¡± she said with the slightest tone of disappointment.


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do you not like it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, but I do, don¡¯t misunderstand,¡± she said assuredly. ¡°I want to learn to run my father¡¯s business, I truly do, but if I had the option to do whatever my heart desires? It wouldn¡¯t be that.¡±


    I knew a little something about the conflict between the desires of the heart and the needs of a family. Mea Kaika came to mind, the most opposite of a woman from the one right in front of me. ¡°What is it that your heart desires?¡± I asked, surprising myself with the candidness of my questions. I¡¯d just met this girl, and here I was asking about her deepest hopes and dreams.


    She surprised me further by answering. ¡°Math, science, all of it. I want to learn, to study everything. Of course, I want to run my father¡¯s company one day. That¡¯s a goal of mine, the degree just a tool to get there. But if I had my way, I¡¯d just stay in school to learn it all.¡± She smiled freely at me, her teeth glittering.


    I didn¡¯t have a response for her, momentarily dazzled by her winning smile. She was an entirely different woman than Mea Kaika, great for her own reasons, but completely opposite. I wasn¡¯t sure what was happening to me.


    The song finished, leaving her breathing heavily in my arms. Her slight figure felt like a feather, a glass doll I was barely supporting. She looked up at me with a fierce stare, those innocent blues suddenly calculating and determined, reminding me of someone else with fierce eyes. It appeared there was more to her than I first thought. I bowed to her, as expected of me, and she curtsied back, fingers clutching her shimmery dress just so.


    My head was scrambled. I wasn¡¯t sure what was really going on, but all I wanted to know for sure was what Mea was doing right now. I enjoyed my dance with Alyss, but I must admit ¨C she wasn¡¯t Mea. I longed for her wild adventure, the promise of mischief, her intoxicating exotic beauty. Alyss represented everything I was supposed to do. Marry well, into a family with connections that would support my familial duties as a Lord, keeping up with expectations. She was a lovely girl, of course, I couldn¡¯t deny that, but I loathed being told what to do. And she was certainly that ¨C a request from my family, of that there was no doubt.


    Instantly, I wished my hands were full again with that crutch of alcohol. The champagne bubbles seemed so empty, so dull, and I ached for a shot of that Nari¡¯e liquor that had led me to meet Mea that fateful night. What a curse and a blessing, that alcohol was. I shuffled through the slightly thickening crowd back towards the bar cart, hoping they might have something stronger than bubbly, and that the three colleagues of mine had vacated their position by now. I didn¡¯t feel like seeing Joh, Lip, and Malley at the moment.


    I pushed through a hard elbow, not even looking where I was going.


    ¡°Um, excuse you ¨C hey wait, Torvo!¡± said a familiar voice.


    I looked up, realizing that hard, skinny elbow belonged to one of my oldest and truest friends, Sheen Fisher. ¡°Who let you in?¡± I said, mock seriousness and anger coloring my tone.


    He just laughed. ¡°Your stepmom graciously opened the door for me, if you must know.¡± He looked closer at me. ¡°You doing alright? You look¡­ elsewhere.¡±


    He knew me too well. We¡¯d been friends since childhood, nearly birth, even, though we hadn¡¯t seen each other consistently since high school. Each of us had been too busy with school, although while I¡¯d been studying sociology, Sheen had graduated high school early and now held his PhD in some sort of niche program with biological sciences, last I¡¯d heard.


    ¡°Eh, you know how these parties are,¡± I said, lamely throwing off his concern with a shrug,¡± always draining.¡±


    He nodded with a grim face. Though he wasn¡¯t an heir to a Lordship like I was, his family was well to do, and was in the same social circle for that fact alone. He had dealt with his own share of nonsense like I had growing up. He knew all too well what these parties were like.


    ¡°Anyway, what the hell have you been up to?¡± he continued, his usual genial smile taking over the momentary dreariness. ¡°It¡¯s been too fucking long.¡±


    ¡°Just finishing grad school, sociology,¡± I said, waving away my accomplishment as if it were nothing. Compared to Sheen¡¯s, it felt that way. I knew deep down that it meant something to me, and it definitely wasn¡¯t easy to achieve, but his education always intimidated me. Even though he never had flouted it over me, I could see the shadow he cast regardless. ¡°I heard you¡¯ve just finished your doctorate in some nerd specialty.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong,¡± he laughed. ¡°And I got a new job, too.¡±


    ¡°No shit!¡± I exclaimed, surprised. ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°Here in the capitol. I¡¯m moving into my new apartment next weekend. You won¡¯t be able to get rid of me here soon enough.¡±


    ¡°I never could get rid of you; I stopped trying years ago,¡± I teased. ¡°What sort of job is it? Anything fun?¡±


    ¡°Highly classified government project,¡± he said in a hushed whisper. ¡°I probably shouldn¡¯t even mention that, truth be told.¡±


    ¡°Well that does sound fun. You a super spy, now?¡±


    ¡°Ah, I wouldn¡¯t say that. I¡¯m just a nerd, one of many.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t belittle yourself, Sheen. You¡¯ve always been a bit of a genius.¡±


    ¡°You flatter me. Save that shit for the Prime Minister ¨C I saw you and your dad speaking to him.¡± He waggled his eyebrows. ¡°Look at you, all special, the PM showing up to your surprise grad party.¡±


    I laughed, as his antics always made me do. ¡°You really should bow to me, Dr. Fisher. It¡¯s Heir Montgomery to you.¡±


    He laughed again. ¡°You¡¯ve had your whole life to get used to that title. Still feels wrong for me to be called Dr. Fisher.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it, doc.¡±


    ¡°I apparently better. Anyway, we each have stuff to celebrate. What are you doing after this godforsaken party?¡±


    I paused, because as much as I would love to continue spending time with Sheen, there were other people on my mind at the moment. I debated whether to tell him. I knew Sheen would be discreet, keep my secret, but I worried about what he would think. He never really was the rebellious type, and I wasn¡¯t sure what he would say if I told him the whole truth.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I allowed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ve got to stay here.¡± Which was true. I could feel the watchful eye of my stepmother, Cerise, even without looking around to see where I was. She had always kept a close eye on me to begin with, but in particular when it came to polite society and propriety. We had a reputation to uphold, us Montgomerys.


    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s just drink more now and it¡¯ll make the time go by faster,¡± Sheen suggested. ¡°I¡¯ll go grab you something if you want.¡±


    I agreed wholeheartedly. ¡°Anything stronger than champagne would work for me.¡±


    ¡°Great. Dishwater it is,¡± he said as parting words, making his way through to find us something good to drink. I hoped.


    As I watched him walk away, I exhaled heavily. This party was really starting to feel suffocating. There were so many things I¡¯d rather do, and now I had to choose between them. Either I escaped and made my way out to see Mea, or I stick around to catch up further with my oldest friend that I hadn¡¯t seen in years. I felt guilty that I wanted to choose Mea over him. I just met her, barely knew her. I glanced at my WaComm, for what could be the thirtieth time that night, to see what time it was. It was growing increasingly late. Mea hadn¡¯t mentioned when or where she would meet me. My plan had been to stake out the caf¨¦, but I¡¯d been unavailable the entire day. And here, now it was evening. My stomach grumbled. Might as well grab some food while I waited to figure out a plan. I remembered I had come over here to find some snacks to begin with and had never succeeded. It was time to change that.


    I smoothed my clothes and turned to my left, but before I could make it a step further, I¡¯d been intercepted once more. Internally, I groaned, but on the outside, I pasted on a practiced smile and greeted the two men who had diverted me. I didn¡¯t recognize them, but each of them wore nearly identical formal suits, much like a lot of the guests here, differing only in the slight color variation of their ties. Both had gray hair, although one had significantly less of it than the other. The one on the left and with a fuller head of hair, extended a hand to shake to me first. I shook it, making eye contact, before the second man extended his hand as well.


    ¡°Jakob Mentel, Vice President of Arugan United Tech,¡± said the first man. ¡°This is the Zack Bateman, President.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my honor to meet you,¡± I said. ¡°I appreciate your presence here at my graduation party.¡± I¡¯d heard of Arugan United Technology before, or AUT as it was often called. They¡¯d been in the news lately, their scope of business having expanded into government contracts recently. I wasn¡¯t surprised that they were here; surely, they had interests and colleagues in the Cabinet. As always, parties like this were full of perfect opportunities for men like this.


    ¡°It¡¯s our honor, believe us,¡± insisted Mentel. ¡°We¡¯ve heard great things about you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard great things about your company, as well,¡± I said, acknowledging their recent successes. ¡°You¡¯ve been expanding, I hear.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong, Mr. Montgomery,¡± said Bateman with a wry smile. ¡°We¡¯ve cause to celebrate too. But we¡¯re not here to talk about that. Shall we cut to the chase? Has your father mentioned us to you, yet?¡±


    Mentel leaned forward to interject. ¡°Bateman, ease into it! Here¡¯s the thing, Torven ¨C can we call you Torven?¡± He continued without waiting for my answer. ¡°Torven, we¡¯ve noticed you¡¯ve got potential. You¡¯re going to make it far in this world. We see in you a young man that wants to change the world for the better. And we want to help you do that.¡±


    I blinked, surprised. ¡°What exactly are you saying, sirs?¡±


    Mentel smiled at me, his full white teeth sparkling. ¡°We know that one day, you¡¯ll be a Lord. When that day comes, be it tomorrow or in ten years, we want to help support your election campaign.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows. What they were suggesting wasn¡¯t farfetched, or even unheard of. But it did come as a surprise. To enter into the [house of lords] could only be done by being born into the right family, but to become Prime Minister was a matter of vote. A Lord would campaign for votes from the Cabinet, to be chosen as the one with final say on all state matters for five continuous years. It was the highest honor bestowed in our society, and the government nonetheless.


    My mind flew to Mea, as it had done countless times this evening. Maybe this was a way I could help her. The men were right ¨C I¡¯d always wanted to be the change I wanted to see in this world, and maybe this was the way I could go about it. It would certainly be more efficient than just my own single vote in the Cabinet. If I were the Prime Minister, then I could direct the proper legal action to give the Nari¡¯e a true voice. Delegate them a representative, change their restrictions, grant them full citizenship status, even.


    Was this the alliance that father had mentioned a while ago? Arugan United Tech was ingraining themselves into the government, that much was clear, so they must have Aruga¡¯s national interests close at heart. I wondered if they would agree with my goals, if they would continue to help fund my potential campaign if they knew my views. Perhaps I could convince them to.


    ¡°You gentlemen bring up some interesting points,¡± I said slowly, my brain running wild with the idea. I barely noticed their reaction to my words, whether they were pleased or not. They must have been.


    ¡°And we can discuss this further when the time arises,¡± Bateman said, smoothing his negligible hair back. ¡°Say, have you gotten a chance to speak to my daughter? She¡¯s around here somewhere; I¡¯ve been looking for her.¡±


    ¡°Your daughter?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my daughter Alyss. She¡¯s wearing something gold and sparkly, I believe. Blonde. Have you seen her?¡±


    I¡¯d done more than see her; I¡¯d spilled my champagne all over her just a short while ago and danced with her after. They must not have seen. ¡°Uh, yes I have, a little bit ago.¡±


    ¡°You should speak with her. Sharp as a tack, and pretty as a picture. You two would get along splendidly.¡±


    I shuffled my feet uncomfortably. Would it be strange to tell her father I¡¯d already spoken to her? I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d crossed a line. Everything about this conversation seemed strange to me, but I couldn¡¯t place my finger on why.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to become acquainted with her, sir, if she¡¯s as pleasant as you say,¡± I finally said.


    ¡°You do that, as a favor to me,¡± Bateman said. ¡°Make sure she has a good time tonight. She deserves it.¡±


    ¡°Of course, sir.¡± I bowed my head to them, signaling the end of our conversation. ¡°May you have a pleasant rest of your evening. Again, thank you for coming.¡±


    They bowed their heads back to me, and silently walked away.


    Sheen sauntered up to my side, a tall glass of something in each of his hands, the ice cubes clinking. ¡°What the fuck was all of that about?¡± He pushed one of the glasses into my hand.


    I shook my head, unsure what to say. ¡°A glimpse of a better future, I hope.¡±

 Six

    The next morning, I woke up feeling muddy, as if someone had stuffed my head full with cotton balls in place of thoughts. I yawned, blinked slowly and rubbed eyes as puffy as the cotton in my brain. My dry tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. The ceiling looked unfamiliar, yet elicited memories from deep within my mind, fuzzy and blurred. I blinked again.


    I was in my childhood bedroom, but it had been converted to a typical guest room. I stayed at the family mansion last night. The events of the evening came to me ¨C the surprise graduation party, catching up with Sheen, meeting those businessmen and something about a glittery dress. I missed my meeting with Mea for those memories. I sighed before extricating myself from the mess of covers I was tangled in. A faint smell of bacon wafted through the air, beckoning me to come downstairs. Was chef still here? She sometimes stayed over after parties, having worked too hard during the night to bother coming home. When that happened, she would make a delicious and sophisticated breakfast for us. Sometimes though, if I asked nicely enough, she would make something less sophisticated for me and something only a child without parental supervision nor bedtime would ask to eat.


    I dressed hurriedly, someone having thoughtfully laid out a set of clothes about my size, and entered the attached bathroom to brush my teeth. I found a bottle of toothpaste tablets and a fresh, unopened courtesy toothbrush in the adequately stocked cabinet, next to pain relief tablets and other assorted typical medicines. I popped a toothpaste tablet into my mouth and chewed it up while I opened the packaging for the toothbrush. Mindlessly, I watched my reflection as I performed the most basic of hygienic tasks. My eyes looked dull and swollen, my hair a tad greasy, and my skin a bit too yellow for my taste. How much had I drank with Sheen last night? I didn¡¯t recall most of what had happened after reconnecting with him, truth be told. I hope I didn¡¯t do anything too embarrassing, for both myself and our illustrious family in front of all of those socialites.


    I waltzed downstairs, following the intoxicating scent of frying pork belly, the popping of sizzling bacon growing louder and louder with each and every step.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± I said even before taking stock of who was in the room.


    Chef, as I had guessed, was at the stovetop frying a glorious amount of bacon. My stepmother, Cerise, was seated at the breakfast nook with a steaming cup of coffee while she read from a document on her WaComm. Across from her sat my father¡¯s secretary, Ka¡¯ana Wela. I suppose she was less of a secretary and more of a highly skilled personal assistant. Her talents extended to my stepmother as well, I noticed, as Ka¡¯ana seemed to be adding input to the document Cerise was reviewing.


    Cerise startled when I said hello; I guess she was more absorbed in what she was doing than I had thought. A slight, apologetic smile later, she returned her attention to her document, laser focused. ¡°Morning, Torven,¡± she greeted, not looking up again from her WaComm.


    ¡°Miss Wela,¡± I greeted, nodding my head at her.


    ¡°I trust you slept well, Mr. Montgomery?¡±


    ¡°I did, thank you.¡± I turned away to investigate the goings-on at the stovetop. ¡°Morning, Chef. This all for me?¡± I reached for a slice that she had just removed from the pan. It was sitting all by itself on a plate covered in paper towels, glistening with grease. My mouth watered.


    She slapped my hand away, unafraid to chastise me. ¡°Those are for everyone. Behave.¡±


    I grinned and took the piece anyway. She glared at me, which turned into a massive smile and a warm hug from the short woman. ¡°You rascal, I¡¯ve missed you. How have you been?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you heard, but I graduated from Aruga University. Even had a party.¡± I raised an eyebrow.


    She laughed. ¡°Cheeky rascal. Go sit, I¡¯ll bring your plate over to you.¡±


    I followed her instruction, smiling at her infectious good nature. I sat down at the breakfast nook where Cerise was still pouring over her work, Ka¡¯ana of a similar posture. They both looked so stiff and awkward it was a little strange. Usually, Cerise was a bubbly and outgoing person, never tending towards awkwardness. Ka¡¯ana, however, was typically very polite and proper, always the picture of etiquette. Either the document was very important, or something strange was going on.


    ¡°How¡¯s father this morning? He still asleep?¡± I asked Cerise.


    ¡°I let him sleep in. He was very, very tired last night,¡± Cerise said curtly, still not looking up from her work.


    I nodded, although they wouldn¡¯t have seen my response, as neither of them diverted their attention from the screens they were so intent on examining. The silence continued, interrupted only by Chef placing a heavy plate in front of me, overflowing with bacon, fried eggs, and toast. I ate slowly, my stomach a little sensitive from the events of the previous evening. Drinking never treated me well the next day.


    I cleared my throat.


    ¡°Ah, what are your plans for the day, dear?¡± Cerise asked me, this time making eye contact while I shoveled an entire fried egg in my mouth at once. She frowned at me; I shrugged.


    She took my shrug as both a response and an acknowledgement of her disapproval of my manners, and continued to speak. ¡°You should reach out to Sheen Fisher today, spend some time with him. HE mentioned how he¡¯d like to catch up, just like old times.¡±


    ¡°Mhmm,¡± I said, swallowing the fried egg with difficulty. ¡°He said as much last night.¡±


    ¡°Dr. Fisher is an esteemed member of our society,¡± Cerise advised. ¡°He would be a good friend to maintain.¡±


    Her words soured in my ears. Of course, I wanted to reconnect with Sheen. I just hated how she made it sound, like a chess piece moved just so on a board, as if my friend was only a pawn. Even worse, she was right. Continuing my friendship with Sheen ¨C and consequently, his family ¨C would be the right move for my inevitable future in politics. I just wished it wasn¡¯t like that.


    ¡°I¡¯ll message him today,¡± I said finally. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s free.¡±


    Cerise nodded approvingly, then went back to her task. I fiddled with my WaComm, tapping through screens and swiping until I found Sheen¡¯s info. A few more touches, and I had sent him a hello.


    Ping.


    He had responded rather quickly. I stuffed another piece of bacon in my mouth and got up from the table. My WaComm resurfaced, and I called my car to come pick me up. I had driven here, at least, so it wouldn¡¯t be more than a moment, but the parking area was a decent distance away from the front door. Our house, like many others in our neighborhood, had a separate garage large enough to fit the cars for all of our guests, if necessary. But it was an eyesore, despite its beautiful craftsmanship, so it was just out of sight of the main living area.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you around at the penthouse,¡± I said to Cerise. ¡°Tell father I said I hope he feels better.¡±


    And with that, I was off, back to the apartment to meet Sheen. He was available today, and wanted to spend some time together, just like the old days. I found myself looking forward to whatever nonsense he had up his sleeve. When we were kids, he was always talking himself out of trouble. Often as not, I was right by his side. Fortunately, he was as good at talking himself and me out of trouble as it was to talk me into it.


    I couldn¡¯t help the grin on my face as I sat in the car waiting to arrive at my apartment. It was late morning, nearly noon, with plenty of time left in the day to do something fun, and I couldn¡¯t wait to hear more about what Sheen had been up to. I didn¡¯t exactly black out last night, but it was fuzzier than I wanted it to be after Sheen and I started drinking. I mostly remember laughing a lot, eating a hefty portion of hors d¡¯oeuvres, and drinking even more.


    By the time my car arrived at the apartment, Sheen was already there waiting outside, leaning nonchalantly against the building wall, smoking a home-made cigarette. I knew it was homemade, because you couldn¡¯t buy cigarettes anymore ¨C it¡¯d been that way for at least a decade. And, I remembered Sheen¡¯s fondness for them when we were teenagers. It was nostalgic, noticing he kept up the habit. Albeit a dangerous one.


    ¡°Those will kill you,¡± I said, though I smiled to show him I wasn¡¯t angry.


    He laughed, put it out against the building wall that held our penthouse, and straightened up. ¡°Bout time you got here.¡± He looked as if death had warmed over, though his eyes were bright with mischief and a little red from the smoke.


    We walked through the front door, passing the automated screens that pointed the way towards the various floors, each family last name listed per floor. Of course, they were all Montgomery. We essentially owned the whole building, even though it was built for several tenants. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Several hours flew by, the comfort of our easy friendship resuming as if we¡¯d never spent any time apart. We were teenagers again, engrossed in our old favorite video games on the wallscreen, laughing and teasing each other, until we looked up and realized how much time had passed. I felt renewed, refreshed, young and free again, as if I had never grown older, as if time wasn¡¯t relentless and inevitable.


    ¡°How does some food sound? Want to order in?¡± I suggested. I didn¡¯t even want to lift myself from the couch.


    ¡°Ugh, no. I need to stand up, get outside, go out to eat. You down?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Sure, that sounds fine. You pick.¡±


    Sheen was already tossing on his jacket and making his way towards the door.


    ¡°Damn, wait for me,¡± I said, hurrying myself up. I too threw on the closest jacket to me and followed him as he practically ran towards the elevator. I made sure to enter the code that locked my apartment. He held the elevator door open for me as he waited.


    Sheen typed furiously into his WaComm, always the guy with the latest tech. He was known for his tendencies to have the latest gadgets and to have delved deep into their inner workings, always tinkering. He said it was to piss off his parents, who always looked down on his career path of a scientist instead of following in their footsteps of business, but I knew it was something he enjoyed doing. Sheen liked puzzles, figuring things out. Reverse engineering his WaComm was the first thing I would expect from a person like him.


    As we walked up to the front door, my car had already pulled up, even though I hadn¡¯t called it yet. I hadn¡¯t entered a destination for us, but here it was.


    I sighed. ¡°Was that you?¡±


    Sheen gave me a wide, mischievous grin. Clearly, all of that work he had been doing in the elevator was jacking into my WaComm and calling my car without my knowledge. If he wasn¡¯t my best and oldest friend, I¡¯d feel angry and violated, but since it was him, it was only a little amusing. Despite the years we¡¯d been apart, I still trusted him like I did in the old days.


    ¡°Bastard.¡±


    He only grinned wider.


    ~


    We arrived at the restaurant in short order. It was one I hadn¡¯t been to before, which was unsurprising, as it was right on the edge of the Nari¡¯e quarter. I¡¯d been going there more often as of late than I had in my entire life, and it made my efforts at blocking out all thoughts of Mea toss themselves out the window. Everything reminded me of her, every woman peeking around the corner was her at a peripheral glance, making my heart leap and fall with excitement and then inevitable disappointment.


    We sat at a table, seated by a bubbly hostess promising our waiter to be out soon. We ordered two shots of ¡®Ona as soon as we sat, the hostess delivering the message to the bar.


    ¡°Torvo, tell me what¡¯s on your mind. You¡¯re jumpy,¡± Sheen said, his eyes browsing a menu and not my face.


    I reddened, the heat lighting up my cheeks as if they were on fire. ¡°Um, nothing,¡± I lied.


    His eyes flicked up at me, disbelieving. ¡°Dipshit. I¡¯ve known you for years.¡± He narrowed his eyes at me, squinting and examining closer. ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡±


    I backpedaled. ¡°Uh ¨C you don¡¯t know her, so it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Mea would be furious if I told Sheen all about her. I was sure.


    ¡°Uh huh. So it¡¯s not the beautiful Alyss Bateman that¡¯s got you all flustered?¡±


    ¡°You know Alyss?¡±


    ¡°Yes, dummy. I saw you dancing with her last night ¨C kudos, by the way, she¡¯s a sweet girl ¨C and I saw her father talking to you after, too.¡±


    ¡°Wait, how do you know them?¡±


    ¡°Have you listened to a word I said? That¡¯s my boss. I work for Aruga United Tech, now, remember?¡±


    ¡°Calm down, not everyone has your memory, asshole,¡± I said, though we both were teasing. He smiled as if he knew exactly what was going on in my head.


    ¡°So, given how things work in our social circle¡­ how did that talk go with Mr. Bateman?¡±


    ¡°AUT pretty much offered to fund my campaign if I ran for Prime Minister when I become Lord. A strange offer, I thought,¡± I said.


    The waitress appeared with our drinks. I grabbed one swiftly and took a swig. We paused our conversation to order. As soon as the polite waitress left, Sheen¡¯s eyes bored into mine.


    ¡°That¡¯s not so strange an offer,¡± Sheen insisted. ¡°We see that all the time, you know that. These sort of contracts, promises, alliances¡­ don¡¯t play dumb. Your father did it.¡±


    I blinked. I had never thought about that. My mother, rest her soul, had been the daughter of another Lord way back in the day. Even my stepmother was the heiress of a prestigious company, one my father now had stock and investments in. Each of those marriages had been to further his political career, though I¡¯d never put much thought into it. Did my father love my mother when they were married? I don¡¯t remember them ever acting coldly to each other, and Cerise always seemed so pleasant around my father. Though she was a good twenty years younger than him. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯d never considered that.


    Even worse¡­ was AUT trying to play that sort of card with me? Was Alyss an incentive, a prize, and insurance if I agreed to their offer? The possibilities swimming in my head were overwhelming.


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯d have to marry her?¡± I asked Sheen, barely able to form the thought.


    ¡°Dude, maybe not. This isn¡¯t quite like how it was back in the day, nobody can force you to marry anyone against your will. But I¡¯m sure it¡¯s a bit of an assumed promise, maybe even a publicity stunt. They probably expect you to date her, seriously consider her, if nothing else. Did they not mention it?¡±


    ¡°No, nobody mentioned that.¡±


    ¡°Eh, maybe I¡¯m wrong then. Though that¡¯s never happened before,¡± Sheen joked.


    I tried my best to smile at his teasing. After all, he had some good points. Nobody had explicitly said anything about an arranged marriage, but he was right. This was pretty standard in our society, especially for nobility and the rich. Of which I was both. I finished my drink, caught the eye of the waitress, and signified I¡¯d like another. She nodded, returning quickly within a few minutes of awkward silence between myself and Sheen.


    I downed my next drink, that same Nari¡¯e alcohol that had gotten me in trouble last time, but I didn¡¯t care. I needed a bit of that numbness to deal with the shock of these realizations from myself and Sheen.


    ¡°Anyway, but you said that¡¯s not the girl that was troubling you, before,¡± Sheen said, eyeing my rapid drinking with a bit of concern. ¡°Though I expect I¡¯ve added her to the list. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°S¡¯okay,¡± I said. ¡°And you¡¯re right. There¡¯s another girl that¡¯s got my head spinning.¡± I don¡¯t think Mea would mind me admitting that there was someone I liked to my best friend. It wasn¡¯t as if I would be betraying her secrets, or her identity. I didn¡¯t even know if it was all that secret.


    ¡°Well, what¡¯s her name, mate?¡± He grinned. ¡°Or do I have to get you absolutely plastered before I¡¯ll get it out of you? Just tell me, for the star¡¯s sake.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I¡¯ll get plastered anyway. Sounds fun.¡± I took another sip of my drink. ¡°But, her name is Mea.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, and how did you meet this Mea?¡±


    ¡°Um, by accident. In the Nari¡¯e quarter, by that one strip club.¡±


    ¡°Mate... is she a stripper?!¡±


    ¡°No! She¡¯s a proper nice girl. She¡¯s fiery, exciting, and so, so, beautiful. Being around her makes me feel like¡­ I don¡¯t know, like life is about more than just going through the motions.¡±


    Sheen raised his eyebrows at me. ¡°She¡¯s got you feeling poetic, my friend. I want to meet her. Can I meet her?¡±


    ¡°Fuck, no!¡±


    ¡°Why not, afraid she¡¯ll like me better?¡±


    ¡°No, asshole, I just¡­¡± I sighed. ¡°She doesn¡¯t want people to know about us. Honestly, I don¡¯t even know if we¡¯re an ¡®us¡¯ to begin with. I¡¯ve only just met her a few days ago.¡± A thought occurred to me that since I¡¯d bailed on her yesterday, albeit, not intentionally, that I should get word to her somehow. ¡°We were supposed to see each other yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and you got held up,¡± Sheen said sympathetically. ¡°Not your fault, mate. Did you call her?¡±


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t. Don¡¯t have her number.¡± I tried to remember what had happened when I¡¯d last seen her, but my brain was fuzzy from the alcohol and the memories. I had sort of short circuited when I thought she was going to kiss me.


    ¡°Did she tell you where to meet her and stuff?¡± Sheen asked, curious.


    Our food arrived, and we dug in. Between mouthfuls and sips of brew, I answered.


    ¡°She did. She did a direct message though to give me the info, so it didn¡¯t leave her contact.¡±


    ¡°Oh, where the WaComms touch and transfer data? Bro, I¡¯ve got you.¡± He threw down his fork and held out his hand, waiting for something.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Give me your WaComm, dummy,¡± he said affectionately. ¡°I said, I got you. We can find her number, or something.¡±


    Dumbfounded, I handed it to him. I knew WaComms had intense security, but once you could get into them, you potentially had access to everything about this person. A part of me was excited to learn more about her, even if it was in this strange way. Cause I had no doubt that Sheen was capable.


    ¡°Order us some more ¡®Ona. This gonna take a minute.¡± He wore a serious expression, though the excitement in his eyes was unmistakable. This was what Sheen lived for, a challenge, a puzzle to solve, a question to answer. I¡¯d just made his day.


    I caught the eye of the waitress and raised our empty glasses, signaling to her that we needed another round. She nodded back, bustling back to the kitchens. I watched Sheen type away, doing whatever you could call his brand of technical magic.


    Time inched by as I watched him work; the waitress dropped off our refills, and then again. Sheen typed away, furiously doing whatever he does however he does it. Occasionally he would narrow his eyes in frustration, run his hands through his increasingly messy and tousled dark hair, and tap harder on the WaComm interface.


    Though I desperately wanted Sheen to succeed, it felt mostly like I was drinking alone. The glasses were becoming blurrier and blurrier as the waitress dropped off round after round while I waited for him to finish.


    ¡°Aha!¡± he finally said.


    He had startled me; I was deep within imagining what ¡®Ona would say if it was a person, talking back to me. It was about to tell me the secrets to the universe, when it was so rudely interrupted.


    ¡°D¡¯ya get it?¡±


    Sheen looked up with a crazed smile, his mouth stretched wide, his eyes watery. ¡°Here.¡± He handed me my WaComm back, a set of coordinates blinking, waiting for me to okay the destination. He had set it up for me to request transportation there, to this magic location, somehow related to Mea.

 Six Part II

    ¡°Actually, this feels weird,¡± Sheen said. ¡°Are we like, overstepping boundaries here?¡±


    ¡°You ever seen a rom com?¡± I countered. ¡°This is a grand gesture,¡± I said, sweeping my arms wide. The action made my head swim.


    He shrugged, as if to say it wasn¡¯t his girl on the line here. I gulped; this could definitely be a problem. I suppose we were about to find out.


    We had arrived at a residential area in the Nari¡¯e quarter, not far from where I¡¯d originally met Mea. I think. The ground swayed under my feet, a strange phenomenon that seemed to always happen when I was here. Couldn¡¯t possibly have been the alcohol I often consumed when in this part of town.  No, definitely not.


    ¡°Hello?¡± a woman questioned.


    She awoke us from our drunken stupor. We¡¯d been rambling down the street, in the middle of the road, stumbling about for several minutes now. We had no idea where we were going, or where we were. We just knew we were on a mission.


    I blinked, taking in the woman¡¯s appearance. She was, clearly, Nari¡¯e, with the distinctive dark toned skin, high cheekbones, and slightly angled almond eyes. Her head was shaved short, only accentuating her sharp and angled cheekbones. She was small, and impossibly thin. If she were to turn a certain way, I was sure she¡¯d disappear. It was as if she were a wisp of smoke, threatening to dissolve into the wind. Her septum was pierced, the only visible jewelry that she wore an ebony ring in the piercing. Her clothes were as dark as night, and hard to make out in the evening moonlight. It was like she wanted to be invisible - it made me question whether I was really seeing her. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I blinked some more, not trusting my vision. Was this person even real?


    ¡°D¡¯ya¡­.d¡¯ya know Mea?¡± Sheen slurred. ¡°Um, Mea something? What¡¯s her last name mate¡­¡±


    I smacked his arm. ¡°Shh!¡± I hissed. ¡°This isn¡¯t real.¡±


    The woman raised her eyebrows at us. I think. I was beginning to wonder if there were actually two of her, or if that was just my drunken mind playing tricks on me. This couldn¡¯t be real.


    ¡°I¡¯m very real,¡± the woman insisted. ¡°And you¡¯re very drunk.¡±


    ¡°Cheers,¡± Sheen said, smiling.


    ¡°Did I hear you say you¡¯re looking for Mea?¡± the woman said, inching closer.


    We exchanged glances. Was it possible this woman could take us to her? I wanted nothing more than to see Mea right now. Her warm smile lit in my mind, teasing me.


    ¡°Mmyeah,¡± I said decisively. ¡°Mea Kaika. You know ¡®er?¡±


    The woman smiled, her teeth glinting. ¡°Rather well.¡± She tilted her head, examining us. ¡°And why should I help you? Who are you?¡±


    I smoothed my shirt with shaking hands. This worked last time - throwing my name around here seemed to have some weight, for some reason. ¡°I¡¯m Torven Montgomery, and this is my colleague, Dr. Fisher. Mea and I are friends.¡±


    The woman smiled wider. ¡°How intriguing. Follow me.¡± She turned and walked in the opposite direction, towards the houses packed close together.


    I stared at Sheen, who just shrugged.


    ¡°My name is Ohelo, by the way,¡± the woman called back at us, never ceasing in her pace. ¡°Pleased to meet you, Montgomery.¡±

 Seven

    We followed the mysterious Nari¡¯e woman into an alley. It felt familiar, somehow, which shouldn¡¯t have been surprising as we were near the place where I¡¯d been taken to meet Mea in the first place. But I was so drunk the first time, I doubted any sense of recognition I thought I had. That first night, I¡¯d barely been sober enough to speak, let alone remember anything like a nondescript alley that looked just like all the others in this quarter. Sheen followed close behind, watching with sharp eyes. I could feel his tension, his unease, as if it were mine. I wondered if the mysterious woman who called herself Ohelo could feel it too.


    Her footsteps were silent, despite the puddled up, damp streets we splashed in. Sheen and I were louder than can be, making more sound than I thought was possible. Although, we were rather tipsy, bordering on drunk. At least it was better than the first time I apparently came this way.


    We stopped in front of a dingy green door. It had a light above it, but it was broken, relying on the nonexistent street lights to show the way. The door led to what I vaguely remembered as the headquarters warehouse. But again, I didn¡¯t trust much of my memory. I only hoped it was so, otherwise, we were walking right into a mugging trap. I took a deep breath and put my faith into Ohelo, for better or worse. I hoped it was for the better.


    ¡°This is it,¡± Ohelo said, gesturing towards the door.


    I started to make my way to open it. She stopped me.


    ¡°Are you stupid? You can¡¯t just go in there. Let me.¡±


    She pushed in front of me, covered whatever she was doing to the door with her body so I couldn¡¯t see. For a moment, I heard silent tapping, saw a light shining emitting from in front of her. Some kind of technological security? Immediately, I felt a little embarrassed. Nari¡¯e would have their access to some kind of tech, that shouldn¡¯t¡¯ be surprising to me. Especially those with important jobs to do, like Mea, and apparently this Ohelo person.


    Whatever she did, it worked. I heard a click, and the door opened just the tiniest smidge amount, just enough for Ohelo to squeeze her hand in there and open it enough for us to come through. It must have been surprisingly heavy, as her struggle to open it was more than obvious. Although, Ohelo was a very slight, short woman, one who looked as if she might disappear should she turn the right way.


    The door revealed a bustling, busy atmosphere, surprisingly loud given how silent it was inside. I couldn¡¯t see how many people were in there, but I could hear them. The door led to a hallway with several turns, which we followed, ending in the large open area of the warehouse. As it was before, it was filled with shipping containers. These containers housed people selling wares, speaking and having meetings, or serving food. It was like a little mini market, held in secret in this discreet, supposedly abandoned warehouse. Mea must be somewhere inside here, probably like she had been when I¡¯d first met her. Although last time, it was much quieter, as there was basically nobody around. Tonight, it felt almost like a dangerous festival, a carnival of gray areas. I had no doubt whatever was going on here had some illegal things to it ¨C otherwise, why the secrecy?


    Every single person in here looked to be Nari¡¯e, and of questionable character. I found myself doubting what I knew about Mea. Internally, I chastised myself. I knew she was deep within a political movement, but nothing about what she¡¯d shown me so far seemed ill-intentioned. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The little I¡¯d seen I felt was enough to judge her accurately, and everything told me she was a girl who just wanted to change the world for the better, just like me. I hoped she¡¯d be happy to see me. I felt the alcohol kick in more, the liquor a little slow-acting, and despite how tipsy/drunk I already was, I instinctively felt that it was about to kick up a notch. I gulped.


    ¡°This is it,¡± Ohelo said, gesturing to the crowd. ¡°Kaika should be in here somewhere.¡±


    I momentarily had forgotten that she had first been introduced to me as Kaika, her surname. Her people called her that as a show of respect, I assumed.


    ¡°Has she¡­ mentioned me?¡± I asked, suddenly self-conscious. Was this all one-sided?


    Ohelo gave me a disappointed look. ¡°Do you think I¡¯d let just anyone in here?¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Men.¡±


    ¡°What do you call this place?¡± Sheen said appreciatively.


    ¡°M¨¡keke P¨­,¡± she said casually. ¡°Night Market. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    She began to weave her way through the crowd, the people who noticed her coming by making a path for her, giving her respectful stares. We, however, earned looks of distrust and a few rude mumblings. I tried my best to ignore them.


    Finally, we arrived at our destination, the shipping container where I had first met Mea. The door was closed and locked, guarded by a handful of people I hadn¡¯t met before. I could hear murmurs coming from inside, but they were unintelligible. Ohelo boldly walked past the guards and knocked on the door three times, then called out her name.


    The murmurs stopped. Other noises came from within, possibly cabinets shutting and papers ruffling, but it was hard to hear in the cacophony of the Night Market. The steel of the container didn¡¯t do much to insulate the sound, but it was enough that I couldn¡¯t hear what was really going on in there.


    The door opened, the hinges creaking with the effort. Inside, I saw two people I instantly recognized and one I didn¡¯t. The two women were Mea, of course, and Ha¡¯ana, her right hand woman. They both glared at me sharply, instantly zeroing in on my shocked face. The other person, a man, stood with crossed arms and a blank stare. He unsettled me, his perfect averageness. He had all the typical features of a Nari¡¯e ¨C the black hair, cropped short as most men wore it, a wide, proud nose, and almond shaped dark eyes. He had no tattoos, was of average build and average height, just under six foot. Nothing about him was remarkable, but his stare felt lethal.


    Behind them was a desk that I hadn¡¯t noticed the first time I¡¯d been there. It had cabinets underneath it, complete with locks. That must have been what I¡¯d heard before they opened the door. The desk was empty of anything, and I reasoned whatever they were working on wasn¡¯t common knowledge. They¡¯d sanitized their work station before allowing me to see it. The thought gave me goosebumps, chills, to wonder at what was going on in there.


    ¡°I¡¯ll come back another time, Kaika,¡± said the disturbingly threatening and non-threatening man. ¡°We can finish our discussion then, when we can be¡­ uninterrupted.¡±


    Mea nodded solemnly. ¡°A hui hou, Meha.¡±


    It must have been a type of farewell, because he stepped out of the shipping container, followed by two of the men who had been guarding the door. He walked out past me, brushing by with a gust of air that left behind no noticeable scent. When he left, it was as if he was never there. I shivered again, the action involuntary.


    ¡°Why are you here.¡±


    Oof. Her words were not kind to me. I cringed, feeling all hints of the alcohol fight my adrenaline and fear that were shooting through me.


    ¡°Erm,¡± I stuttered. ¡°I wanted to say¡­ sorry? For¡­yesterday?¡±


    She blinked at me. ¡°And who is this?¡±


    ¡°Dr. Sheen Fisher, at your service,¡± Sheen jumped in, presenting his hand to shake. He was speaking to Mea, but his eyes were on Ha¡¯ana the entire time. She simply watched back, evaluating us and probably finding us lacking.


    Mea blinked, then blinked again. ¡°Are you¡­ drunk?¡± she said finally, staring intently at us.


    ¡°We tried to be,¡± Sheen said. ¡°But we didn¡¯t succeed as well as we¡¯d have liked to.¡±


    She huffed. ¡°We can¡¯t speak here. You two need to sleep this off¡­ and we need to have a chat before you go.¡± She flicked her eyes over to Ha¡¯ana, who apparently understood what she was trying to say, as she readied her possessions to leave. ¡°I¡¯ll take you someplace safe for the night. Come with us.¡±


    ~


    We had followed meekly into a junky car, similar to the one that I had ridden in before when I¡¯d met her. I had a suspicion it was the same one, but I wasn¡¯t sure. The ride had been silent when we pulled up to the dimly lit, run down house on the street. It was a shabby two story, crammed in between two other houses in similar shape. The siding was grungy, faded, and peeling. The windows sagged, the front steps were molded and dipping through. One had a large hole in it. The front porch, teeny as it was, had been clearly modified so that it would still stand upright. A series of precariously placed, yet somehow solid, tower of rocks supported one end of the porch overhang. The other end was the original post, rotted, but still functional enough. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Wordlessly, Mea exited when the car stopped. Ha¡¯ana followed her out. Sheen and I exchanged looks, but he shrugged and followed everyone else, while I swallowed any fears I had and tried to figure out if we were being murdered. It didn¡¯t feel suspicious to me, and Mea hadn¡¯t lied to me so far. That I knew of. For some reason, I trusted her, and I trusted that I could be here with her and not fear for my life. Besides, what harm could these two women do to me? Surely, between Sheen and I, we would be able to come out on top if it were just them. I gulped as I stepped out of the car and onto the street. Hopefully that would be the case, and there wasn¡¯t a whole group of thugs in there waiting to kill us.


    Sheen stood next to me, turned away from the girls who were fiddling with the lock on the door, and whispered in my ear. ¡°I see why you¡¯re so smitten. She¡¯s a fox.¡±


    I smacked his arm discreetly.


    ¡°What, mate?¡± He laughed quietly but continued his subdued whispers. ¡°Her friend is even finer. Dibs.¡±


    They got the door open, the aged door creaking on the rusted hinges as it swung open. We followed Mea and Ha¡¯ana inside, who locked the door behind us.


    ¡°This is home,¡± Mea said, gesturing to the cluttered, yet tidy kitchen.


    The house was small, of that there was no doubt. The kitchen and the living area were all one space, with a door that hinted at a bathroom on the far corner by the stairs. The kitchen counters were almost entirely covered in random cooking paraphernalia, fruits and vegetables, and other things. Half of the cabinets didn¡¯t have doors on them, and the furniture itself was clearly outdated and faded from age. A small circular table hugged a spare corner with two chairs, and a sagging couch sat against the wall in the living room. There was no wallscreen that I could see; only wallpaper that was water stained and undoubtedly fifty years old.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice,¡± Torven said politely, unsure how else to describe the place. It was nice, to be sure, it was just simply old and small. No amount of cleaning and tidying would fix that, though it seems that Mea had tried.


    ¡°It was my grandmother¡¯s,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Would you like a drink?¡±


    I nodded. As always, alcohol was a crutch for me in awkward social situations, and if this wasn¡¯t awkward, then I was clueless. She headed towards a cabinet, one with a door, and pulled out a dark liquor bottle and a few glasses. She filled them, and handed one to each of us, setting the glass bottle on the small circular table.


    Mea gave Ha¡¯ana a sharp look. They must know each other so well they could speak telepathically, I reasoned, as she grabbed the bottle of liquor and Sheen¡¯s hand and dragged him away. He went willingly, I¡¯m sure, as the grin on his face went from one ear to the other, but I still felt concerned for him. I didn¡¯t want him to be taken advantage of, though I didn¡¯t think Ha¡¯ana would be the kind of person to do that.


    ¡°Is he going to be okay?¡± I asked Mea as soon as they were out of sight up the stairs.


    She waved her hand. ¡°As long as he can drink, he¡¯ll be fine.¡± She gestured to the couch, the easiest place for us to sit and talk. She ran her finger along the edge of her glass, playing with it, delaying whatever she had to say.


    I settled in next to her on the couch, the piece of furniture groaning its protest.


    ¡°I am angry with you,¡± she said blandly. ¡°How did you even find me?¡±


    ¡°Ah, I am sorry,¡± I said. I gripped my glass tightly; I hated having someone unhappy with me. I couldn¡¯t handle it. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to make you upset.¡± I paused, thinking back to what I thought she was angry with me for. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re not angry that I didn¡¯t meet up with you yesterday like you asked?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No. How did you find me?¡± she asked again.


    ¡°Oh, that was Sheen. I told him you direct messaged me the location for the caf¨¦, and he did some reverse engineering magic to hack your WaComm and find your location. Don¡¯t ask me how, I¡¯ve no idea.¡±


    She pursed her lips. ¡°Ha¡¯ana will have her hands full with that one, I expect.¡±


    ¡°And vice versa, I assume.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°Indeed.¡± She took a sip of her drink and turned to me. ¡°All laughs aside, you cannot do that again. You cannot jump in on me uninvited. You nearly ruined an important business deal for me.¡±


    Her words shot through my ears like darts, piercing and painful. Whatever I¡¯d walked in on with that mysterious guy felt shady to me, but if it was important to her, then it was probably something for Ka Po¡¯e. Whatever she was doing, I believed and trusted in her intentions, and I trusted her. It was a theme, something I¡¯d been reminding myself of lately.


    ¡°Mea, I trust you. I believe what you¡¯re doing is right,¡± I said, reassuring her and myself at the same time. ¡°I worry that you¡¯re dealing with dangerous people. Who was that guy you were meeting with? He seemed¡­ scary.¡±


    She shook her head at me. ¡°I can¡¯t say. Just know that he¡¯s a business associate of mine, and he would never hurt me. That will have to be enough.¡±


    I wanted it to be enough for me, but it didn¡¯t do much to reassure my worries. But, her face made it clear that it was the end of the conversation, so I didn¡¯t push it.


    I cleared my throat, wanting to change the subject to ease the tension. ¡°So, uh, this house. You said it was your grandmothers?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. She passed last year and left it to me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss. I know you mentioned her stories of your islands that inspired your movement here.¡±


    ¡°They did ¨C and still do ¨C but my friends and family that I have left inspire me more.¡±


    ¡°So, where are your parents then? Or is this place all yours?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all mine. My parents have their own apartment, further down the street. They work a lot though, I don¡¯t get to see them often.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you mention that you had a lot of siblings?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, good memory,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°Quite a few. They crash here sometimes. Well, some of them.¡± The end of her sentence turned bitter and angry.


    ¡°¡­ did something happen to one of your siblings?¡±


    She scoffed. ¡°You could say that, yeah. My oldest brother is in prison.¡±


    I swallowed the surprise in my throat before I could react poorly. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°The police found him with an ounce of [drug]. Just an ounce, barely even enough to get high. When they arrested him, I saw it. I watched it happen. He was trying to cooperate, but the cops were beating him. It was so needlessly violent. I remember him kneeling on the ground, covering his head while they hit him with their batons. I heard every whack.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Mea, I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    ¡°It gets worse.¡± She looked up at me with dry eyes, filled with a fiery rage that lit them up from the inside. ¡°He was only in prison for a few days, waiting for a hearing. He couldn¡¯t make bail ¨C we didn¡¯t have the money. And he got stabbed.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to say, didn¡¯t have any words of comfort that could help her. So, I set my drink on the floor and put my arm around her, offering her what I hoped was some measure of comfort. She leaned her head into my shoulder, pressing into it as if to ease the pressure of her pain.


    ¡°He died there, all alone. I never got to say goodbye. The last time I saw him, he was driving away in the back of that police car, beaten and bloody.¡± She breathed heavily, the words clearly weighing on her. ¡°I was barely ten.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine what you¡¯ve gone through,¡± I whispered, feeling her pain. I wanted nothing more than to take it away, shoo it through the window, never to be seen again.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I¡¯ve had almost ten years to deal with it, now. Time heals all wounds.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a wise woman,¡± I said as she lifted up away from my shoulder, though the distance between us had shrank.


    She smiled again, radiant and sheepish at the same time. ¡°A fact you should¡¯ve learned by now.¡± She looked up at me, vulnerable and pleading. ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t do what you did tonight ever again?¡±


    I nodded solemnly. I realized now that her work was too important for me to accidentally and inadvertently ruin. This was something close to her heart. I would never take that from her.


    ¡°I promise. I¡¯ll keep your identity secret, won¡¯t tell another soul about you, won¡¯t jeopardize your work in any way. But you have to answer something for me, too.¡±


    She tilted her head at me, curious. ¡°Ask away.¡±


    ¡°Mea, I have to know. Is this ¨C¡° I gestured at the two of us ¡° ¨C something important to you? Or is this all, you know¡­ one sided?¡±


    She smiled, something small and sweet, one corner of her lip tilting upward. ¡°It¡¯s not one sided, Torven.¡± She leaned in even closer. ¡°I do like you.¡±


    ¡°Maybe to prevent this misunderstanding ever happening again, you could give me your number,¡± I said, closing the distance between us just an inch more.


    Her lips beckoned, parted slightly as her breaths came in small pants. She ended the distance between us, sealing her lips to mine in a sweet, breathy kiss. She tasted like summer, of coconut, of intoxicating paradise. I lost myself in the scent of her skin, her wild beauty, her passion.


    When we separated, I saw stars. My head was spinning, and I wasn¡¯t sure where I was. It was as if I¡¯d departed the planet for a moment, just from that kiss. I¡¯d never felt anything like this before, it was the spark of a lifetime. She made me feel as if I¡¯d been floating, that her caress was pure ecstasy.


    I blinked, still surprised that she¡¯d kissed me. When I looked down, I realized she had her hands on my WaComm and was typing something in. I hoped it was her contact info so I could talk to her again without having to meet up with her like this.


    ¡°The couch is a convertible bed,¡± she said into my ear, her hair tickling my neck. ¡°I¡¯ll see you in the morning.¡±


    When I¡¯d collected myself enough to understand what she was saying, she had already gone up the stairs.

 Eight

    The next morning, I woke up on the couch, blurry eyed and disoriented. The walls and ceiling were much closer than I remembered. Then, it all came back to me. I couldn¡¯t help the grin on my face as I recounted the events of the night prior. Despite all of the heartache that brought me to this moment, how Mea was angry with me, my trespassing on her private life, it had ended with a reward so sweet, I don¡¯t know how it could be topped. Apparently, the means do justify the end, because if I had the option to redo today, I wouldn¡¯t change a single thing. I wasn¡¯t as hungover as I¡¯d expected to be, though I also hadn¡¯t drunk as much as I had lately. That was something I needed to keep an eye on.


    A delicious smell was coming from the kitchen only a few feet away. I think that was what had woken me up. Before turning around to investigate, I simply took in the scents, trying to see if I could guess what it was. A few moments of thought, I gave up. It was something herbal and savory, and I could hear the sizzling in a frying pan, but it definitely wasn¡¯t bacon. I got up to go see what it was.


    Mea was there in front of the stovetop, busying herself with something. Her hair was still wild and pinned away from her face as it usually was, but she was only wearing what appeared to be pajamas, soft and cozy oversized pants and an old, baggy shirt. It didn¡¯t matter what she wore, evidently, because despite the cloth covering her ample curves, I still appreciated the view. She was beautiful no matter what she put on herself.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± I said, smiling as I approached her.


    ¡°I¡¯m making breakfast,¡± she said, pointing out the obvious. ¡°Want some?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take anything you¡¯re making,¡± I said. ¡°But what is that?¡±


    I didn¡¯t recognize what was in front of me exactly, but it looked almost like a very thin pancake. The only thing different was, it smelled entirely opposite to a pancake and had what might be onions and peppers inside the batter. I didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°Fried onion cakes,¡± she explained. ¡°A traditional Nari¡¯e breakfast. Savory and salty.¡± She flipped one of them, revealing a golden brown, crunchy texture. ¡°So, how are you feeling this morning? Is anything¡­ fuzzy?¡±


    My smile grew wider. She was nervous, concerned about how drunk I was, if I had forgotten any of our conversation and the events that followed last night.


    ¡°I remember every single detail, Miss Kaika,¡± I whispered into her ear, making her shiver with the tickle of my breath. I backed off, letting her finish cooking.


    ¡°Um, good,¡± she said tersely, clearly a little shaken. ¡°Just¡­ I want to remind you about keeping things discreet. It wouldn¡¯t do either of us good for our¡­ whatever we are¡­ to be discovered.¡±


    Though my heart fell when she said that again, I agreed. ¡°I understand.¡±


    Steps came from the stairs. It was Ha¡¯ana, followed by Sheen. Both wore sheepish, chastised grins, but only for a moment.


    ¡°You two appear to be in good spirits,¡± I said, grinning at Sheen.


    He eyed me sharply; I took it as he didn¡¯t want me to be rude or tease him about it. Fair enough ¨C there was plenty of time for me to do that later, and I looked forward to it.


    We ate breakfast together in moderate silence. Ha¡¯ana and Mea kept giving each other looks, and Ha¡¯ana kept giving Sheen looks, while I felt more like a leftover piece of a puzzle that no one quite knew what to do with. It seemed that Mea was feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer I stayed here with Sheen, and it became apparent that I should go sooner rather than later. I gulped down the rest of my flaky, onion pancake with gusto. It was a delicious breakfast, and I wondered if I could convince Chef to cook one for me sometime soon.


    ¡°We should probably go,¡± I said, swallowing the last of the pancake. My eyes darted to Sheen, who gave me a disappointed look in response. ¡°I¡¯ve got a new job starting tomorrow.¡±


    Mea and Ha¡¯ana walked us out, giving us cursory goodbyes, all but pushing us out of the door. I got the sense they were going to have a similar discussion between the two of them that Sheen and I were about to have. I hurriedly dialed to call for my car to pick us up while we stood out in the street in that crisp early morning air.


    Sheen stood next to me, eyes glancing back at the house while we waited.


    I cleared my throat. ¡°Well?¡±


    He just grinned, a smile filled with complete happiness and joy. ¡°That woman is something else,¡± he said. ¡°I want to see her again.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°And again, and again, and again,¡± Sheen said, looking off into the distance.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look now, but it seems that you¡¯re in love,¡± I teased.


    His cheeks reddened, but he didn¡¯t deny it. ¡°It¡¯s a bit soon for those words, but who¡¯s to say for the future?¡±


    His optimism surprised me, but I didn¡¯t say anything. I would be the last person to dash his obvious hopes. Not that I had anything to say about Ha¡¯ana that would burst his bubble, but still. I wouldn¡¯t do that without very good reason.


    Sheen directed his attention towards me with a sly eye. ¡°I could see some chemistry going on between you and your Mea, though. Clear as day,¡± he teased.


    Now it was my turn to blush. ¡°She¡¯s one hell of a woman,¡± I said.


    ¡°You like her,¡± Sheen said matter-of-factly. ¡°And I think she likes you too.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I couldn¡¯t stop the flip-flop of my heart in my chest when he said that. It was one thing to see it for myself, wondering if it was just wishful thinking, but it was another to hear it from an outside perspective. ¡°You think so?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think a girl would open up her house to you for the night if she didn¡¯t,¡± Sheen reasoned. ¡°Nor would she let her best friend meet up with said boy¡¯s best friend.¡±


    As always, Sheen¡¯s logic made sense. ¡°There¡¯s just a lot in between us. She doesn¡¯t want anyone to know, if there even is an us.¡±


    Sheen nodded, understanding. ¡°It appears her hands are full.¡± He eyed me again. ¡°As are yours. What¡¯s going on with this Alyss girl? Heard from her at all?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Nope, and there¡¯s no reason for me to.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I guess I should speak with my father, see what he says. If he confirms that Alyss is a concrete part of this barbaric deal¡­ then I guess I¡¯ll have to see from there.¡±


    My graduation party had been a whirlwind of meeting people and discussions, drinking, and other things, that all blurred together. All I really remembered about my impression of Alyss was that she was a nice, well put-together girl who wore a sparkly dress. I really didn¡¯t know much else about her. How could anyone expect me to marry her, just so I could secure a friendship with a successful company? The more I thought about these expectations on me, and the kind of expectations I¡¯d been handling all my life, the concern in my mind soured. It was absolutely something that the nobility would do to one of their upcoming heirs, especially a Montgomery heir.


    But I didn¡¯t want to even entertain the idea. The problem became this ¨C if I turned down Alyss, I turned down AUT¡¯s funding and help. Could I become Prime Minister without them? At that moment, I knew deep down two things were certain: I wanted Mea Kaika, and I needed to become Prime Minister to fix our society for her. Somehow, I would get that done, and it would all be for her. I would figure out a way.


    My car pulled up to the curb, ready to take us back to my apartment. My head was filled with thoughts and concerns, muddying my already messy brain. I would need to sort this out with my father before I made any rash decisions, but I knew what I wanted.


    We arrived at the apartment in short order, thanks to the swiftness of an autodrive car. I got out, and Sheen went his own separate way. I didn¡¯t know where he lived, and offered to drop him off with my car, but he refused reluctantly. He must not live too far away, I reasoned, and maybe he just wanted to walk. Or, maybe his supre-secret government job forced him to live in a government compound with all of the other nerds. I snickered to myself, picturing it.


    In the main lobby of our building, I sent a message to my father asking to speak with him. It went through to his secretary and assistant, Ms. Wela. She responded to me, saying he would be available in an hour at the penthouse.


    So, I waited. I spent the time showering, changing clothes, and overall, stressing over my appearance. I wanted to look as professional, as adult, as possible, like a serious contender for my own future. I needed my father to take me seriously. He needed to know that I wouldn¡¯t be easily swayed to do whatever he wanted.


    My WaComm pinged, letting me know my father was ready. I was standing in front of his door, jaw steeled, shirt buttoned up tight, and tie expertly knotted, looking as if I were ready to walk into a board room. I had confidence, I had determination, and I had a cause. I would walk in there and tell him exactly what was what, never mind what he said. I was going to tell him I would never marry Alyss, that he could never force me to do a single thing ¨C I am my own man.


    The door opened. My father sat at his desk, looking down at his computer. When I entered, he looked up. All of my resolve crumbled. The man in front of me was a shadow of the one I saw the other night at my graduation party, a far cry from the man who helped raise me. His eyes were gaunt, and sunken in, his cheeks shallow and yellowed. He looked as if he was inches away from keeling over, as if a strong wind blew, he would be caught in the breeze.


    ¡°I came, uh, I came to speak to you about¡­ something important, father,¡± I said, rattled and shaken. If he noticed my reaction to his appearance, he made no note of it.


    ¡°Sit,¡± he said in a voice weaker than I remembered. Or was that just my imagination?


    I followed his instructions, braely registering the leather seat below me. ¡°I need to know more about this deal that AUT is offering me,¡± I said rather bluntly.


    Ralen nodded slowly before he spoke. ¡°Arugan United Tech has the funds and the ambition to make you Prime Minister, when the time comes.¡±


    I blinked. He had been more straightforward than I expected. But there was a catch, and he knew that¡¯s what I was really getting at. ¡°But?¡±


    ¡°But to seal this deal and alliance, you must consider Alyss Bateman, heiress to AUT.¡±


    ¡°Consider her?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Date her publicly, for a lack of better words. It does the company good to see you two together. Good publicity, all that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to do anything more than that?¡±


    ¡°Not technically. Of course, the hope is that your connection will become genuine and you might pursue a real relationship with her. But no one is forcing you, least of all, me.¡±


    I mulled that thought over in my mind. It was still a lot to ask of me; I¡¯d still either have to give up Mea or keep her in the shadows, and I wasn¡¯t sure which one was worse. I just knew I wanted her and to change the world as Prime Minister. Why couldn¡¯t I have both?


    Ralen watched me think, the silence between us growing. ¡°You do want to be Prime Minister someday, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Of course, father,¡± I said, a little surprised. Hearing him ask that question was something I¡¯d not expected. Usually, he told me what he wanted from me, instead of asking what I thought. ¡°But I have to know¡­ is this deal with AUT the only way?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, yes,¡± Ralen sighed. ¡°The Montgomery family does not have enough money to campaign to the extent you would need to in order to win. You¡¯re young, inexperienced, but as far as I can see, filled with fervor and passion. People will want to follow you, I know it. However, AUT can fulfill all your dreams and then some.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°But you must act soon. Chetland¡¯s term only has a little over a year left. Campaigning will be starting sooner rather than later.¡±


    ¡°Father, I¡¯m still only your heir. You speak as if you¡¯ve already retired,¡± I questioned.


    Usually, a Lord either dies or bestows his title upon his heir shortly before death. My father, though sickly as he looked today, was still a healthy man in his fifties. It should be a long time before I had to bear his yoke. I didn¡¯t think I would be able to run for Prime Minister for decades. After all, a PM¡¯s term lasted ten years, and I wouldn¡¯t be eligible until I¡¯d succeeded the title from my father. I thought I had more time to consider this deal.


    ¡°There¡¯s fight in me yet, my son, but I¡¯ve been around long enough to know when to retreat. You¡¯ve still a lot to learn, but I have faith in you.¡±


    ¡°I suppose¡­¡±


    ¡°Torven, I must be blunt.¡± He sighed, a sad sigh filled with other sighs, a legion of emotions all within that single exhale of air. ¡°My heart is failing me. I don¡¯t know when it will fail me completely, but I know it¡¯s just a matter of time.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how to respond. I¡¯ll admit, he¡¯d been tired lately, and today he wasn¡¯t looking like he usually did, but a man at the edge of death? I refused to believe it.


    ¡°Father, don¡¯t talk like that. We have all the time in the world. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, to apprentice?¡±


    ¡°Be there on time, seven AM sharp,¡± Ralen advised, a fierce look in his sunken eyes. ¡°We have a lot of work to do.¡±

 Nine

    Several weeks later


    It was approximately 4:47 pm. And by approximately, I mean exactly. Though the time often flew quickly when I was working, sometimes, there were days where I counted every second until five. Today was one of those days. Today marked an entire month of apprenticing under my father, learning the ropes of the Cabinet and how to survive there. Information I would need to know sooner rather than later, as my father was apparently planning on stepping down soon enough for me to inherit his problems in time to campaign for Prime Minister.


    Sometimes it didn¡¯t feel real. Most days that I woke up, knew I had work to take care of, and followed through it with the amount of care and attention it needed. It was like I¡¯d transitioned seamlessly from my graduate work into a similar pattern in the office. I woke up, drank too much coffee, did a mind-numbing amount of reading papers and reports, drank more coffee, and surmised all of that information into a barely comprehensible summary. The only difference was, the summaries I made now helped form decisions made by this country¡¯s leaders, where before, it was sociology. And before too long, I¡¯d be receiving those summaries from other apprentices like me and making decisions on behalf of the Montgomery name. We had a responsibility, my father always said, to be true to our people. We had the interests of the citizens to protect, and our vote must always reflect that.


    I sat in my office, a small but respectable sized room with just enough space for a desk and a chair opposite it. The wall screen opposite my desk was usually used for scrolling through reports and running over presentations, but right now, it was playing the news as a dull background noise. I was trying to drown out the chaos in my mind. My nerves were wracked, even though I logically knew they shouldn¡¯t be. While my father had been intermittently giving me advice while I was working, he really hadn¡¯t been as hands on with my apprenticing as I¡¯d thought he was going to be. But, at the one month mark, he was about to give me my first performance appraisal. In less than thirteen minutes.


    I leaned back in my leather chair, the heavy plastic creaking. I¡¯d finished up the day¡¯s work, but these last few minutes were going slower than the previous nine hours. The words of the news reporter barely penetrated through my thick skull, but I could see the flashing words come across the screen, ¡®Breaking News¡¯.


    Excellent; something to distract myself with for the next ten minutes. I sat back up straight in my chair to pay more attention, eager for anything to make the time go by faster.


    ¡°¡­police have no leads at this time and are asking for anyone who has any information to come forward about the murder of Brenton Paulson¡­¡± the reporter continued.


    My heart sank. Another murder It was terrifying, even though Mr. Paulson was somebody on the fringe of high society, he was still a member of the Cabinet. His influence was small, but he was a large and highly visible supporter and close friend of the Prime Minister, Robert Chetland. These murders were becoming closer and closer to home, more and more concerning. Who would be next? And if it was as the police said, it sounded like they had no clue what was going on. I shivered. I felt safe in the city, wherever I went, but what if I was a target? My father? I supposed it could be anyone in the Cabinet, at this rate.


    But, I couldn¡¯t force myself to be too bothered. I¡¯d not ever felt unsafe in this city, and that wasn¡¯t about to start now. My apartment was well secured, and I trusted the police. The area I lived in was about the safest place it could possibly be, and whenever I went out into questionable areas, I was always with people I trusted. I considered Mea to be one of those people, and the thought surprised me a little with its sudden solidity. She was somebody I felt I could rely on, despite how little time I¡¯d known her. Every encounter with her felt so genuine, our shared experiences that brought us closer than I could imagine. I missed her, her voluminous hair that I longed to touch, her smooth skin that reflected like the moon, the hue a deep and smooth warmth that spoke of tropical paradise. I sighed. It¡¯d been too long since I¡¯d seen her.


    Then came a knock on my office door, interrupting my daydreams. I started violently, the sound surprising me and ruining where my imagination was taking me. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Mr. Montgomery, your father is ready to see you now,¡± came the familiar voice of Ms. Wela, my father¡¯s assistant.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right over,¡± I said.


    I would be going to his office to speak, as it was both a sign of respect and the protocol for how these things went. As he was both my boss and the one who initiated the meeting, I would go to him. Shakily, I stood. His office was just at the end of the hall, the dead end leading to his door.


    I stood in front of the opaque glass that was his office¡¯s entrance, poised to knock.


    But before I could, I heard him say,¡± Come in.¡±


    Flustered, I did as he bid.


    ¡°Sit,¡± he said, gesturing to the luxurious chair in front of his desk, just for meetings like this.


    I wiped my sweaty and clammy palms on my dress pants. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± I said.


    My eyes flicked back and forth between my father and the window behind him. It showed the city below, and as we were on the highest floor of our building, it was quite a magnificent view.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get this started,¡± Ralen said.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to hearing your feedback, father.¡±


    My father watched me for a moment, contemplative. His expression gave nothing away. At first glance, he looked fine and healthy, the usual color of his skin returned. After examining closely for a minute, I noticed it looked like makeup, applied with an artful eye. It seems that he didn¡¯t want anyone else to notice he wasn¡¯t as strong as he pretended to be.


    ¡°You¡¯ve picked up a lot of the slack around here,¡± my father said, a kind expression on his face. Now that I¡¯d noticed the deceptive makeup, it was something I couldn¡¯t unsee. It was as if he was wearing a mask. ¡°You¡¯ve been doing well. I noticed you tend to overlook your peers input, however, so that¡¯s something you should work on.¡±


    I cleared my throat, nervous. I didn¡¯t like hearing how my work wasn¡¯t perfect.


    ¡°¡­ so, if you¡¯re going to ignore advice, make sure your work is flawless. You¡¯re not quite there, son, but I believe you will be.¡±


    I blinked.


    ¡°I¡¯m proud of you,¡± he finished.


    ¡°¡­Thank you, father,¡± I said finally.


    He had surprised me. It¡¯d only been a month, but it sounded like he was truly pleased with the progress I had made. I didn¡¯t know how much time I had left with him, and I knew I had to make the most of it. Not only as my mentor, but as my father. He had been harsh, of course, but I sensed it was something I needed at the time. Now, hearing him say he was proud of me, it felt as if I¡¯d succeeded. I¡¯d done what I¡¯d truly set out to do, which was to make him proud to be my father. I didn¡¯t think I could ask for much else. Everything else was the extra mile, and I¡¯d be damned if I didn¡¯t do it for him. I¡¯d be Prime Minister for him, for Mea, for the citizens of Aruga, and I¡¯d be lying if I didn¡¯t say it was for me, too.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Torven. You still want to be Prime Minister?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said. I¡¯d steeled my determination, but it was nice that he continued to ask me if this was what I wanted instead of forcing it on me. I felt that he gave me a way out, if I needed one. Fortunately, I didn¡¯t need nor want one. I wanted this, needed it.


    ¡°Then take this AUT deal. I know it¡¯s not ideal, but as I reminded you before, you can¡¯t do this alone. Remember that these upcoming months, your public image will be under extreme scrutiny. You have to be careful.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± I said. And I did. Anything that I did from here on out would affect my future campaign and political career. Instantly, I thought of Mea. Would my involvement with her lessen my chances?


    ¡°There¡¯s a Police Charity Ball in a few weeks. I need you to take Alyss, be the perfect date and gentleman. It¡¯ll show AUT you¡¯re serious and will be excellent publicity for the press.¡±


    ¡°I understand, father,¡± I said, while my heart sank. Alyss was a nice girl, but if I was going to bring anyone as a date, I wanted it to be Mea. I knew that would never work though, for me or for her.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to marry this Alyss just yet, but I must ask you to keep an open mind. Get to know her, see if there¡¯s any sort of companionship you can form. Friendship is the best place to start, I¡¯ve found.¡±


    I nodded in agreement. He was right, of course. Friendship is the best gateway to something further, the most reliable method of finding one¡¯s partner in life. I just wanted it to be Mea, and not Alyss, despite all of the difficulties. But the look in my father¡¯s eyes was desperate; I could see that he needed this from me, for me to give this a shot. I could always turn them down later before it went too far. Right?

 Ten

    About a month later


    It was the day of the charity ball, and I found myself more nervous than I¡¯d expected. This was my first night out with Alyss, not counting my graduation party. And that didn¡¯t count, because she wasn¡¯t my date then, we¡¯d simply danced together. This time, she was my date, and in the public eye, that meant we were a duo, a force to be reckoned with. Being seen with someone in that capacity at an event like tonight¡¯s was more impactful than I¡¯d imagined. It certainly seemed to bother me.


    I knew deep down that I was still planning on declining AUT¡¯s offer. Surely, we could find a better way to fund my campaign, right? Wasn¡¯t there a way that I could have what I want and Mea too? I tried to think, and though I came up with no clear answers, I was sure it was out there. I had to stay true to my heart, and my heart led to Mea ¨C of that, I was sure. I was doing this for her, anyway. To be Prime Minister was to give her everything she wanted. Although she hadn¡¯t been speaking to me lately. I hadn¡¯t seen her since Sheen and I found her location through the WaComm, and I hadn¡¯t heard anything else.


    I was standing in the foyer of the family mansion, impatiently waiting for my date to come down. She had met my stepmother here earlier in the day and had been getting ready for this evening ever since. We would all ride to this charity ball together, my father, my stepmother, myself and Alyss, to the downtown hotel where it was held. We were even making use of the limousine that we kept for special occasions like this. At least I would be riding to hell in style, as expected of a Montgomery.


    Footsteps, gentle and soft, tapped at the top of the stairs, drawing my attention. She stood at the top there, a sweet, demure smile on her perfectly painted lips. She glowed; her blonde hair done up in a tasteful twist, an elegant yet understated jewel glittered close to her throat, and her dress was a silky blue, trailing behind her. I couldn¡¯t deny she was a beautiful woman, a fact I admired as I watched her tiptoe down the stairs ¨C carefully, as her dress¡¯ train threatened to overdo her at every step.


    I met her at the bottom, extending my arm for her to take. I wasn¡¯t taller than average, I would say, but she made me feel almost a giant. Her height was barely just above my shoulder. It made me think of Mea, and how she could look me straight in the eyes without tilting her head up to meet me. My heart fell, wishing she was the one on my arm instead. But of course, I remembered my father¡¯s words, and what work I had left to do. My public image could not afford to be tarnished, and spending time with anyone other than those of elite social status would do exactly that. I wondered if Mea was spending her evening alone, in her small tidy house, or if she was leaned against the wall of her shipping container office, doing whatever it is she does there. I remembered the shady man she¡¯d been speaking with when I¡¯d interrupted her with Sheen. Was she with him right now? I scowled.


    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± Alyss asked, a look of genuine concern on her face.


    Startled, I smiled to reassure her. ¡°Of course,¡± I said. ¡°You look beautiful tonight, Alyss.¡±


    Shyly, she smiled down at herself. We walked out the door and to the car, where my father and Cerise were already waiting. Ms. Wela, the assistant, held the limousine door open for us.


    ¡°Have a wonderful night,¡± she said as we climbed inside. ¡°Come home safe.¡±


    The ride was a quiet one, though fortunately, the limousine had been well stocked with premium champagne. As soon as we began to move, Cerise handed out glasses, popped the bottle, and filled each of ours up, one by one. The car was as smooth as I remembered, barely causing ripples in the bubbly liquid as we sped through to the city. I could feel my father¡¯s eyes on me, and though he said nothing, I knew what he was thinking. He needed me to be on my best behavior tonight, and I knew I would try. But it felt like he could see inside my soul that I wasn¡¯t planning on accepting this deal, didn¡¯t want Alyss, didn¡¯t even really want to try to know her. Though I wanted to please him and do what he asked of me, I knew I had to follow my heart. However, I also knew that now wasn¡¯t the time. I had to get through tonight, and then I could deal with those consequences.


    The ball was at the Grand Patterson Hotel, right in the center of the city. It was a short building considering it sat in between several skyscrapers, but what it lacked in height it made up for with its extravagance and luxury. The architecture was reminiscent of traditional Arugan classics, complete with marble columns, swirling and detailed decoration everywhere one looked, the outside lit up just enough to highlight the buildings best features. Everything looked expensive, as well it should. It was the most famous and oldest hotel in the city; only the most prestigious and wealthiest of people could afford to stay there, making it the only natural place for the Prime Minister to host a charity ball for the Aruga Police Department.


    We stepped out, Alyss on my arm, Cerise on my father¡¯s. Photographs flashed as we left the limousine, taking photos of us and the people who were entering in front of us. It was a line of the most wealthy and fortunate people in the city ¨C the country, even ¨C and they were all arriving in droves. The police would be doing well for themselves, I reasoned, if everyone gave a small amount. And I knew how everyone behaved there. The larger the amount donated, the better the person looked. It was all a game, I knew, a game of playing at generosity and kindness, all for saving face in front of the crowd. The Montgomerys were slated to donate a hefty check, ourselves.


    The inside of the hotel was stunning. I¡¯d been inside once before for a similar event as a teenager, but I certainly hadn¡¯t appreciated it at the time. The marble columns shone, just like the ones outside. The floor was also marble, and the walls adorned with extravagant classical paintings depicting tasteful landscapes. The entryway was overshadowed by a huge chandelier, glittering down on the guests below with magnificence. Beyond the entrance, a swirling staircase hinted at the floors above. Beyond the entryway, statues dotted the walls here and there, each of marble and in an elegant pose, leading towards the ballroom where the event would actually be held. People mingled in the entrance and the hall, chatting in excited whispers about what the night might bring. I couldn¡¯t help the infectious excitement that sprung within me, picking up the pace in my step as we made our way to the dancefloor.


    A butler met us at the ballroom¡¯s wide doors, leading us to our assigned table. Circular tables draped in thick, luxurious white tablecloths edged the dance floor in a crescent, all in view of a stage, yet allowing for space in the center for people to dance. We were near the center of the crescent, facing directly toward the stage. At the moment, the stage was mostly empty, save for a solo pianist, who delicately plucked an elegant tune from the keys. Other instruments littered the stage, however, and another musician was prepping them. I assumed a live band would be playing once the party began in earnest. I found myself looking forward to it, even though I couldn¡¯t share this experience with the one person I really wanted to.


    Thinking of her made me sad, though, remembering her lack of communication, and how I hadn¡¯t seen her since she¡¯d cooked us breakfast at her house. I glanced at Alyss; she was arranging her long and unwieldy dress around the chair as we sat, so as to not be so tangled. Thankfully, she hadn¡¯t noticed my sullen mood. Somehow, that made me feel even more sad. She had noticed my distress earlier; was I so invisible now? It seemed that all of the women in my life were determined not to notice me. First Mea, now Alyss, too.


    We had just sat down at the table, but as soon as that had happened, someone approached and stole away my father. Cerise stepped up to join him with an apologetic look, and suddenly, it was just Alyss and me. Alone. I gave her an uneasy glance and a nervous smile.


    She smiled back from under thick eyelashes.


    ¡°So, uh¡­ what have you been up to lately?¡± I asked dumbly.


    She smiled. ¡°Working in my father¡¯s company as an assistant. You?¡±


    ¡°Oh, apprenticing under my father. Sort of similar¡­¡± I trailed off. I wasn¡¯t sure where else to go with that.


    ¡°That¡¯s nice,¡± she said politely. ¡°Have you been enjoying that?¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, the tension and awkwardness building up. I felt stiff. ¡°I¡¯ve learned a lot, and it¡¯s only been a month. I¡¯ve got a long way to go, though.¡± I eyed the waiter that was making his rounds to the table, dropping off bottles of champagne and other drinks on request. He was only a few tables away. ¡°Um, how about you? Liking your work?¡±


    The waiter moved a table closer.


    ¡°Oh yes, of course,¡± she said enthusiastically. ¡°It¡¯s nice to be in the thick of things, although I can¡¯t wait to have more responsibility. I feel like I¡¯m mostly stuck making copies.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± I said, nodding. I didn¡¯t have to make copies; it seemed that my experience apprenticing under my father¡¯s trade was a bit more in depth than hers was at the moment. Though I had a graduate degree, she only had a bachelors. Maybe it was only right, as she didn¡¯t have the know-how or experience just yet.


    The waiter approached our table, setting down the bottle of champagne with a gentle thud, dulled by the heavy tablecloth. I politely waited until he had turned around, but as soon as I did, I snatched the bottle up, promptly popped the cork, and poured it hurriedly into our glasses, sloshing some as I did so. The bubbles nearly overflowed from my hasty pour, but thankfully, it didn¡¯t cause too much of a problem.


    I downed the first glass like it was going out of style. When I tapped the glass back onto the table, Alyss grinned at me. I was so surprised by her reaction, I nearly knocked over the glass. I¡¯d expected her to be shocked, or taken aback. Instead, she followed suit, and threw back her drink just as I had.


    ¡°To an eventful evening,¡± she said, lifting her now empty glass for me to fill again.


    My jaw fell open. This might be an interesting night after all. Dumbstruck, I refilled our glasses, earning another mischievous grin from the woman I evidently knew so little about. Something moved on the stage, catching my attention as we each sipped from our freshly filled glasses. The musicians were finished setting up, it looked like ¨C a live band had replaced the lone pianist. A moment later, and the live band was playing their version of a popular song, although it sounded much different than when playing through the feeds.


    ¡°Wanna dance?¡± I asked, gripping my drink tightly.


    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, an easy smile still on her face.


    Her ease in the situation calmed me, making me feel less nervous about the whole thing. She really was a pleasant girl, I thought. I stood, holding my hand out for her to take. Like a gentleman, I led her out to the dance floor where a few other couples were already dancing. The song that was playing was a good one for simple slow dancing, but nothing too heavy or romantic. It was a great song to set the tone for the evening, and for mine in particular.


    I placed one hand on her tiny waist, my fingers brushing against the silky cloth of her dress. I had to stop myself from caressing the soft fabric. My fingers flexed in tension. My other hand held hers in the air, her fingers delicate and dainty in mine. We twirled slowly, effortlessly, as two people who¡¯d been trained for years as children to dance in situations like this. Again, what we had in common as far as our upbringing was showing again. I couldn¡¯t help the thought of wondering what Mea would think of an event like tonight. I had no doubt she could look the part; the woman had an air of classy confidence about her no matter where she went, but would she feel at ease as Alyss does here in my arms, now? I soured again, thinking about Mea. What I was doing being bothered with a woman who couldn¡¯t be bothered to talk to me? I was better off to distract myself.


    And here was a beaming distraction right in front of me, draped in fine silks, glittering like a fresh cut jewel, and smiling as I held her near me, swaying to the music. I just had to get through tonight, I told myself. My father expected me to get to know Alyss, to give her a chance. It didn¡¯t matter that my heart was stolen by another woman, no matter how she treated me at the moment. The least I could do was to be open minded and humor them all. Alyss didn¡¯t deserve to be mistreated; she seemed like such a sweet, nice girl.


    ¡°So, remind me what you went to school for?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°Business, minor in math,¡± she said nonchalantly.


    She didn¡¯t sound excited about it. ¡°Is that what you wanted to do?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. Then, she refined her answer. ¡°Well, yes and no. I would¡¯ve done engineering if I had the option.¡±


    We spun some more, the music picking up in volume as we neared the stage. ¡°Oh? I thought you wanted to be involved in your father¡¯s company?¡±


    ¡°I do. Which is why I chose to major in business,¡± she said, looking me in the eye. ¡°But if I had the option to pursue a passion? Engineering.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting,¡± I said. And it was. Most of the women in our social circle went to school for filler degrees, something to easily take home and frame. Hell, most men I knew were the same way.


    ¡°How about you? Obviously, you have a master¡¯s degree in sociology. Is it something you enjoy?¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± I said, surprising myself at the sudden melancholy that I felt. ¡°Sociology is a unique field. Unfortunately, I won¡¯t be doing much with it in politics.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that¡¯s true,¡± Alyss said. ¡°Sociology has allowed you a perspective you might not have otherwise. You can always bring that to your decision making. You¡¯ll help the people, Torven. I can feel it.¡±


    I blinked, surprised again. She thought that of me? Her eyes were so sincere, her mouth so tantalizingly sweet in a concerned pout, her entire face lighting up as she told me she believed in me. She was beautiful, gorgeous, perfect. Her nose was straight and pert, her cheekbones highlighted effortlessly, her hair shiny and blonde and dotted with tiny pearls, accentuating each curl.


    ¡°You¡¯re staring,¡± she said, her lips curled into an uneven smile.


    ¡°I can¡¯t help it,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re stunning.¡±  It was the truth, and I couldn¡¯t believe I hadn¡¯t really seen it before. I knew she was a nice looking girl, I had eyes, but I hadn¡¯t really noticed just how beautiful he really was. Maybe there was something more here, after all. Maybe I was just so distracted by Mea that I couldn¡¯t see what was going on right in front of my face.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said demurely. ¡°You¡¯re not so bad yourself.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t stop the rush of pleasure as she complimented me in turn. Had Mea ever told me she thought I was handsome? I decided I wouldn¡¯t give her any more thought tonight. She didn¡¯t deserve my attention, my anger, my heartbreak. I would forget about her, even if it was just for the evening.


    ¡°Torven?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I know about the deal my father offered you,¡± she said, her eyelashes fluttering, long and thick, shadowing her deep blue eyes.


    ¡°How much do you know about it?¡± I asked slowly. Did she know she was an incentive to the deal, as her father surely saw it?


    ¡°All about it. I just want you to know¡­ I don¡¯t expect anything from you. I understand, and I would like to get to know you. But I won¡¯t demand a single thing.¡± She sighed. ¡°This sort of¡­ arrangement¡­ is pretty common in our lives. You know this. What if I suggested our own sort of deal?¡±


    I raised my eyebrows. This girl had more depth to her than I had initially ever thought, a realization that was growing more and more with each minute I spent with her. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°I want to run my father¡¯s company someday. If you keep an open mind about this deal with my father, you and I can each get what we want. If we get married ¨C and I¡¯m not saying you have to do that at all ¨C then you get to become Prime Minister. On the condition that you allow me to run Aruga Tech, instead of you.¡±


    I paused in our dancing, the music slowing down, the song fading to an end. ¡°I¡­ must admit, I wasn¡¯t expecting this.¡±


    If I married Alyss, I would technically inherit AUT, which was a thought that hadn¡¯t occurred to me. Typically, for a situation like mine, it would mean that I would appoint a board to run the company for me in my interests while I did my higher priority occupation. But Alyss was suggesting that she wanted me to appoint her, instead of the traditional board. At least she wasn¡¯t asking me to marry her. I owed her an open mind, as she had requested, but I didn¡¯t owe her anything further than that.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s strange¡­ but if they can make a deal without us, can we not make a deal without them? Just give it a thought.¡±


    ¡°I''ll tell you what,¡± I said. I¡¯d already decided; I knew I wasn¡¯t planning on taking this deal with AUT, that I wanted to be with Mea. But that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t do this favor for Alyss, no matter how small. ¡°I think you and I should get to know each other better. I think that¡¯s a smart idea. And if it goes well enough to get married ¨C great. You can have charge of AUT, I promise you that. But if we decide not to get married, that¡¯s that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all I can ask for,¡± Alyss said, the look of hope clear on her face. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to learning more about you.¡±


    ¡°As am I,¡± I said. It wasn¡¯t a lie. Mea held a strong grip on my heart, of that there was no debate, but this sweet, innocent, kind and considerate girl deserved a chance.


    The song had ended, but we still held our dancing posture. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed several people watching us. My peripheral vision showed that it was none other than Zack Bateman and Jakob Mentel, from Aruga United Tech, who were chatting with my father and Cerise and eyeing us carefully. No doubt they were talking about the same deal Alyss had just mentioned.


    I cleared my throat and dropped her hands. ¡°Let¡¯s go back and get a few more drinks, shall we?¡± I knew I needed more social lubricant if I was going to make it through the evening, pleasant company or not.

 Eleven

    The table was littered with tiny little plates, each previously filled with decadent bites of various desserts, some chocolates, some cakes, some rich and artistic creams with an exquisite flair. We had sampled some of each and every one, filled to the brim after the five course meal served to each guest. Add to that, the constant stream of champagne the waiters so graciously brought to us. It was a feast, of that there was no mistake.


    I leaned back in my chair, entirely satisfied. I¡¯d spent the whole evening intermittently dancing with Alyss, drinking, eating, and chatting with my family. I made a point of not thinking about Mea, and between all of the distractions I was fueling myself with, it seemed to be working. I felt absolutely content.


    ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make,¡± said the band¡¯s singer through the microphone. ¡°Your hosts would like to address you. Make some noise for our Chief of Police and Prime Minister!¡±


    Everyone began clapping around us, following the singer¡¯s lead. The lights dimmed everywhere but the stage, bringing into focus the approach of the Chief of Police, led by the Prime Minister, Robert Chetland. He cozied up to the microphone, ready to address the crowd. We had been waiting for this moment all evening, after all. I¡¯d almost forgotten it was a charity ball for the police department, though ¨C I¡¯d been having so much fun.


    ¡°Good evening, my fine guests,¡± greeted Chetland. ¡°I hope you¡¯re all having a splendid time.¡± This was met with polite cheers, to which he smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad we could all come together for this important issue. Right now, the police need all the help they can get in the wake of recent violence. May we take a moment of silence for the victims that have been claimed, and for their friends and families.¡±


    Chetland closed his eyes, the rest of the crowd hushing in respect for the fallen.


    ¡°And now, I have nobody better to announce what measures we are taking to find and catch this killer than the Chief of Police himself, Bret Philiips.¡± Chetland stepped back from the microphone, softly clapped his hands in applause, while Chief Philips approached the microphone in his stead.


    ¡°I appreciate all of your generosity today,¡± Chief Philips said, his voice amplifying sharply, echoing against the marble. ¡°In particular, Aruga United Technology, for donating the most substantial check this evening. Thank you, on behalf of all of us at the department.¡±


    Everyone clapped their hands in applause, the spotlight now hovering over Zack Bateman and Jakob Mentel, who graciously were applauding themselves, as well. I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Citizens, official as of this evening, we have a new law to go into effect immediately. It is our hope that it will allow us to catch this killer.¡±


    The crowd hushed to a dead silence, barely even breathing. My eyes, and everyone else¡¯s, were glued onto the stage, onto the Chief.


    ¡°Those without full citizenship are now suspect to a stop and search at our discretion,¡± Chief Philips said gravely and seriously. ¡°We cannot afford to be lenient and too trusting any longer, and we will make no exceptions. We will find this killer, and the ability to fully search more suspects is the key to doing so.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    The crowd applauded once more, cheers of relief and hope filling the room. Personally, I felt a little conflicted. I knew what he meant by ¡®those without full citizenship¡¯ ¨C the Nari¡¯e were the only ones, aside from visitors on work visas, who would fall under that category.


    The police must think the killer is Nari¡¯e, I figured, as they¡¯re clearly targeting them as their most suspicious group of people. Though, the news had been saying that the police had no leads, obviously they just didn¡¯t want to show all of their cards. I couldn¡¯t blame them for that. Several people have been killed, with no suspect to show for it. I could understand why the police would want to turn up the heat; I couldn¡¯t deny that I felt a little bit better knowing that the police had a little bit more power in their hands. Maybe, they¡¯d find more about this killer, and we all would be safe once more. If not, I worried about who might be next.


    Thinking morbidly about this disturbing thought, I glanced over at my father. He had been mostly chatting around all evening with many of his peers, most of the attendees this evening, and only just now did I get a chance to really take a look at him. He had told me he was sick, and it was clear when I gave him a closer examination. His eyes were still tired, though he had tasteful amounts of makeup on, just enough to hide it. You wouldn¡¯t have known he was sick, or wearing any powder on his face, if you weren¡¯t actively looking for it.


    He sat back in his chair, his arm on the back of Cerise¡¯s chair, and though his smile said he was happy, he looked exhausted, in my opinion. Though, I hoped I knew him better than most of the other people here, as his son. Would they notice his decline in health? Would it have an effect on his politics, the deals he was trying to make?


    ¡°Raise your glasses to the police department!¡± bid Robert Chetland, who had taken the microWaComm back after Chief Philips¡¯ announcement. ¡°Everyone, please continue having a wonderful, lovely evening. Cheers.¡±


    The party continued on as it had been, the band resuming its play, people getting back on the dance floor, and waiters flitting about and filling drinks. I stayed at the table, sitting there with my family and Alyss, pondering what the future may bring. Does the end justify the means? Does this stop and search law bring us the peace and safety that we so crave? I barely noticed anything around me, lost in my thoughts, sipping at the flute of champagne I¡¯d been nursing throughout dinner.


    I couldn¡¯t help but worry, the conflict in my heart concerned. We needed to catch this killer, but was it worth the price of personal and individual liberty? I wasn¡¯t sure. It was  a matter of public safety, and those who weren¡¯t guilty had nothing to hide. The alcohol blurred my brain, numbing the sharpness of those painful and difficult dilemmas that plagued me. I welcomed the numbness, drinking more and more.


    I looked up to see Cerise watching my father with concern. He was breathing heavily, his knuckles white as he clutched his own arm. Was he alright?


    ¡°It¡¯s late, darlings,¡± Cerise said quietly, addressing me and Alyss. ¡°Care to join us at the mansion tonight? We have plenty of guest rooms for your convenience,¡± she whispered, eyes on Alyss, the last part addressed to her in particular. Of course, I had a room in the mansion. I used to live there, after all.


    Alyss nodded politely. ¡°I would be honored. Whenever you would like to leave, I am ready.¡±


    Cerise nodded in turn. ¡°I believe the sooner the better. I¡¯m rather fatigued. Shall we?¡±


    I stood, turned to Alyss, and helped her from her chair, while Cerise did a similar thing with my father. I could see out of the corners of my eyes that he was struggling to stand without shaking, the determination to appear healthy and hale in front of his peers taking all of his willpower. I only hoped it wasn¡¯t as obvious to everyone else as it was to me.


    We left the party in a quiet retreat, bidding respectful, nonverbal goodbyes as we passed through the ballroom. I told myself that everything would be okay.

 Twelve

    I couldn¡¯t sleep.


    The alcohol swum in my head, and I lay on top of the covers, hands placed across my stomach as if to secure it there. The thoughts that made it through the buzzed haze were unclear, undefined, and most of all, of Alyss. Everything I thought I ever knew before tonight had been completely turned around. And of course, my future, my life, my dreams, all hung in the balance.


    I still didn¡¯t want to take this AUT deal. Everything about it felt wrong, shady, and a bit medieval. It was as if we were back in ancient days, where marriages sealed alliances, people betrothed against their will, brides forced into agreement. I didn¡¯t like the feel of the whole thing.


    If I took the deal, what would it be like? I¡¯d be in a potential loveless marriage, albeit with a sweet girl. Of all arranged marriages to be in, this one surely had to be a best case scenario. She would run AUT in time, and I would be Prime Minister. But what of Mea? I wanted to become Prime Minister to help her and her people, but most of all, I wanted to be with her.


    If I didn¡¯t take the deal? I¡¯d continue on as a Lord, of course, still a Montgomery and following in my father¡¯s footsteps. I¡¯d have enough funds to make some votes go through, but probably not enough to sway the entire Cabinet. I¡¯d be able to try my best and hardest to make changes happen, but likely not enough. It would take a massive overhaul to achieve the kind of results that Mea needed and I wanted. But if I didn¡¯t take this deal, then I wouldn¡¯t be in an arranged marriage. I¡¯d be free to pursue Mea in earnest, like I wanted to. I knew deep down that was something I needed to, to see if that spark we had between us was enough to smolder for a lifetime.


    Though, I wondered what she would think if I were married to Alyss. Would she give me the time of day? Or would she be okay with being a piece on the side? I frowned thinking of it. If I wanted to be with Mea, I wanted it to be right. She deserved to be shown off, pampered, and treated well, not hidden away like a dirty secret. I wanted to give her the world.


    But what she really wanted was her own world, her islands back, her people free. I doubted I¡¯d be able to give her that if I didn¡¯t have the power that came with being Prime Minister. And as a result, without the AUT deal to make it happen.


    I sighed, even more confused. I had no idea what to do. I turned on the wallscreen to try and drown out the noise in my head, the news spouting more about the brand new stop and search law that had been announced at the charity ball this evening. They showed footage of Robert Chetland speaking, the Chief of Police speaking, and everyone shaking hands. I groaned. I hoped this new law would pay off fast and that we¡¯d find this murderer immediately.


    A few minutes droned by, the wallscreen doing nothing to put me to sleep. I kept it on, though, knowing that my thoughts wouldn¡¯t let me sleep right now either.


    What would I do about Alyss? She was a perfectly reasonable and logical girl, who also seemed just so sweet and innocent. She could be easily taken advantage of, her kindness making her an easy target. She would need to toughen up before she was running any businesses, though. She would need a level head on her shoulders.


    Her room was right across the hall from mine. I wondered what she was doing right now. Was she able to sleep well, unlike me? I hoped she hadn¡¯t drunk too much for her, and that was feeling fine. She¡¯s much smaller than me, I had no idea what her limit for that sort of thing was.


    Even worse, I wondered what Mea was doing right now. Was she alone? Was she missing me, even though she hadn¡¯t had the time to message me back? Remembering I¡¯d turned my WaComm off, I twisted over to the bedside table and slapped it back on my wrist. It powered up as it connected with my skin, and within moments, I could see there were no notifications. She still hasn''t messaged me. I sighed again, brought down even further.


    We weren¡¯t in a relationship, something I¡¯d have been trying to remind myself of. WE weren¡¯t exclusive, and I had every right to go on with Alsys and see if there was something there for this potential arranged marriage to be based off of. But I wanted there to be something with Mea, so badly, and I wanted to know if there was more to it, if we could be something. Every moment I spent with her has been exhilarating, even the quiet stroll after breakfast, let alone the sit-in protest we¡¯d almost participated in. With her, everything was new, fresh, and exciting. She was life, vibrant and colorful, beautiful and lush. I wanted to know more.


    But if she couldn¡¯t be bothered to talk to me, then maybe things weren¡¯t going quite as well as I¡¯d thought. I hadn¡¯t seen her in what felt like ages, even though it¡¯d only been about a month or so. I didn¡¯t know what she could be so busy with that she couldn¡¯t even message me every now and then. It¡¯d been a few days since she¡¯d replied at all; I wondered if she even kept her WaComm on her.


    Mea had thrown a wrench into my plans for the future. I decided right then and there, I would let her sort it out. I would have to speak with her and let her tell me what she thought. Since I hadn¡¯t seen or spoken with her, I needed an update. I would give her an ultimatum ¨C either she lets me know how she feels about me, or I am done. I can¡¯t be held on the fence like this. And right now? I¡¯m single as hell until she claims me. I felt the fury build up inside me, the determination fueling me. She would know who she was dealing with, I thought. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Timid knuckles tapped at my door.


    Startled, I got up out of bed. Who could that be? The only ones at the mansion were my father, Cerise, and¡­ Alyss, who was just across the hall. Hurriedly, I ran my fingers through my hair, looked down around at my room to see if it was too messy, and ran my hands over my clothes. It would do.


    I walked up to the door to open it slightly.


    Behind it was a shy looking Alyss, her hair now brushed out into soft waves that cascaded down her shoulders. She wore a knee-length silky nightgown, wrapped up in a warm sweater cardigan. The slippers on her feet were the kind you could wear outside. Puzzled, I tilted my head.


    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± I asked quietly. She looked like she might up and run away, how she was dressed. It was as if she put on pajamas but was tempted to walk and leave for the night.


    ¡°Yes! Well, sort of. I can¡¯t sleep.¡± She pointed her eyes inside my room towards the wallscreen. ¡°I noticed you couldn¡¯t either.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you heard that? I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, rubbing the back of my head. ¡°I thought it was quiet enough.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re alright,¡± she said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have heard it if I had been able to fall asleep in the first place.¡± She licked her lips, pausing before she spoke next. ¡°Would you¡­ erm, would you like to take a walk out in the gardens?¡±


    I blinked. That explained the shoes and sweater. ¡°Uh, sure. A bit of fresh air might do us good. One second.¡±


    I ran back inside my room, threw on the first jacket and shoes I could find, and turned off the wallscreen. I returned to ALyss in the hallway, who waited patiently. I extended my arm to her, and she took it; it made me feel as if I was a gentleman leading his lady around. We walked towards the gardens, mostly in silence, while she looked around appreciatively. The gardens were beautiful at night, I¡¯ll admit. I¡¯d been seeing them for years, of course, since I grew up here, but the way the moon shone on those leaves madea them almost look a different color, a deep, gray blue, instead of the vibrant green they normally were.


    We¡¯d been walking for a few minutes when Alyss stopped. We were in the middle of a little winding path that led through the main parts of the gardens; we were almost to the small fountain. I could hear it gurgling, just a few yards away, hidden by sculpted bushes.


    ¡°Can I ask you something personal?¡± she blurted out.


    This girl would never cease to surprise me. ¡°Sure. What else would someone ask at three AM?¡±


    She smiled, then it turned to a nervous grimace. ¡°Are you¡­ single?¡± Alyss asked me timidly, her voice barely audible.


    I raised my eyebrows, thinking about the implications of her question. I was, by all definitions of the word, single. Mea and I were technically not more than friends, barely even shared a kiss. We weren¡¯t exclusive, hadn¡¯t even determined that we were in a relationship, and as much as I¡¯d like to be with her, it would be nearly impossible to make that work.


    I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m single, yes.¡±


    Alyss smiled softly and shyly. ¡°I assumed that you were, given this deal we¡¯re involved in, but¡­ I just wanted to know for sure, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Ann understandable question,¡± I said. And she certainly had reason to be concerned.


    ¡°I would, um, understand if you liked someone else,¡± she whispered. ¡°But you¡¯ve been so nice to me, getting to know me, that I¡­¡± She stopped and stared at me, eyes wide and reflective; vulnerable.


    I paused, letting her finish her thought.


    ¡°Erm, I¡¯m not good at this,¡± she said, fiddling with her hair, looking everywhere but at me.


    I waited, patiently, understanding that whatever was on her mind would come out eventually. I was curious what she was thinking anyway, and was willing to wait to hear it.


    She turned to face me again, her cheeks flushed and red. Suddenly, she pulled my face down to hers and kissed me. Her lips tasted of strawberry balm, her breath of mint. Surprised, I let her kiss me, her fingers furrowing into my hair, mussing my blond locks. The shock wore off, and I let myself enjoy her embrace. It wasn¡¯t hard to do ¨C Alyss¡¯ kiss was just as sweet as she was.


    We parted, Alyss¡¯ breathing heavily, her cheeks still flushed and eyes wild.


    I stared at her in wonder. She had done nothing but surprise me continually all evening, and I didn¡¯t know what to do with myself. One second I thought I knew what to expect from this girl, and the next, she was kissing me like that. She said she just wanted to be friends, to get to know me, and that she had no reason to push a marriage between us if it wasn¡¯t true, but here she was, in my arms, the moonlight reflecting off her deep blue eyes like two shimmering pools.


    ¡°Could we¡­ continue this elsewhere?¡± she whispered, her soft words barely audible. ¡°Your room, perhaps?¡±


    It was as if I were stuck in a hurricane, being twisted and turned around by each whirlwind, the way this girl was acting. I think I got whiplash. I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond though. She looked so vulnerable, putting all of her cards on the table, and I couldn¡¯t deny that what she suggested was something I wanted. I tried to think of why I should deny her, but kept coming up blank. Whatever I had with Mea, it couldn¡¯t hold me back from pursuing what could be my future. And there was no denying that Alyss held the keys to all of my hopes and dreams, right in her delicate hands. Could I throw that all away for a maybe, a wisp of a hope, for Mea? We weren¡¯t exclusive, we weren¡¯t even in a relationship.


    And it wasn¡¯t as if Mea had to know.


    Right then and there, I had made my decision. I still wasn¡¯t sure about this whole AUT deal, but I could at least try. I owed it to myself, to my future, to my family, to the well-being of the people of Aruga, to try. Mea couldn¡¯t stand in the way of the greater good, right?


    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s go,¡± I said quietly, taking her hand in mine, leading her back to my room.


    The moonlight painted the path below, the flora glowing as we passed through the garden and back to the house. Whatever was going to happen, would happen.

 Thirteen

    I woke to an unfamiliar warmth in the bed. My eyes were still closed, but something was laying on my arm. Underneath the pressure, my arm had fallen asleep. It tingled, like static underneath the skin. What was going on? Did I fall asleep with something heavy? A book? No, books weren¡¯t warm.


    The only way I¡¯d solve this mystery was to open my eyes.


    Blonde hair was strewn across my pillow, the pressure on my arm the source of those golden tresses. Alyss.


    Oh no. What had I done?


    I remembered everything that had transpired the evening before: the charity ball, the new law, the walk in the garden with Alyss, and¡­ the events following that led to the here and now.


    My WaComm was still on my wrist, and fortunately, was the free one. Softly, so as not to wake up Alyss, I flicked the screen to send a message asking Mea to meet up. I needed to talk to her, warn her about this law, get everything off of my chest. I wasn¡¯t proud of what had happened last night, but I didn¡¯t think I was in the wrong. But, I still thought she should know. Or at the least, I wanted her to know I was still into her, and I needed to see what she was thinking in return. We were past due for a discussion.


    Now that was done, I just wanted to be out of there. I had to collect my thoughts before I spoke to her. I slid my arm, slowly, gently, delicately, out from under her head. She sighed in her sleep, never opening her eyes.


    Whatever Mea would say, my mind was made up. I couldn¡¯t take this AUT deal, because I couldn¡¯t deal with whatever this feeling was. Guilt? It had to be. I felt awful, no matter how nice last night had been, no matter how sweet Alyss was. I felt like I¡¯d betrayed myself. I felt slimy, sick, and traitorous. It was a horrible feeling. I slipped into the shower in the guest room, not wanting to wake Alyss up by using the one in my attached bathroom.


    The shower hadn¡¯t helped wash off my disgust with myself, though I¡¯d tried. I¡¯d scrubbed at my body, just feeling absolutely ashamed. I tried to rationalize with myself the same logic I¡¯d applied the night before. Mea and I weren¡¯t together, I told myself. We were barely even friends. I¡¯d only met her a short while ago, and had only minimal interactions with her. But her face tormented my mind. I knew we had something there, and it felt as if I¡¯d shattered it to pieces with my actions. I had to speak to her, and soon. I¡¯d tell her everything, and I¡¯d refuse this deal with AUT.


    I walked downstairs after my shower, feeling dejected and sad, though a determination was welling up inside me. I knew what I had to do, but I questioned whether I had the guts to do it or not. The steps came one at a time, but each one threatened to trip me up, as I made my way towards the kitchen. Hopefully, no one was up yet, and I¡¯d be able to enjoy a cup of coffee to myself.


    I had no such luck. My stepmother, Cerise, sat at the little breakfast nook, a cup of coffee in her own hand. It was just like the morning after my graduation party, although Chef wasn¡¯t there. I lamented her absence.


    Cerise startled when I plucked a mug from the cupboard, the ceramic clinking against the wood. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°Good morning.¡±


    She looked me up and down, a sad smile on her face. ¡°And you.¡±


    She watched me carefully as I sat down; I tried my best to keep my poker face. I was sure she could guess at what had happened last night, but I wasn¡¯t quite ready to speak about it. Or at least, I had no idea what I was doing, the very least what I should say about it.


    I sipped at my coffee while she eyed me, seeing through my soul. Rr


    ¡°Torven, what is it you want out of life?¡± she said suddenly.


    I jumped, startled by her sudden and pervasive words, a drop of coffee burning my hand as it leapt from the mug. I blinked. She waited patiently while I gathered my thoughts. Her persistent silence begged for an answer.


    ¡°I suppose¡­¡± I thought deeply for a moment, really trying to dig for the answer that I knew was there. ¡°I suppose I want to change the world. I want to give the people the best Aruga I can.¡±


    Cerise nodded solemnly. ¡°A wise answer, and a good one.¡± She paused to take another sip from her own mug, her eyes far away. ¡°Sacrifices will be necessary.¡±


    ¡°Sacrifices?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, sadness coloring her tone. ¡°We all sacrifice for something in life. It¡¯s inevitable. I say, if you¡¯re going to have to sacrifice, let it be for your life¡¯s dream.¡±


    She stared at me pointedly, and I knew what she was talking about, even though she said nothing explicitly. She didn¡¯t have to.


    ¡°You said we all sacrifice,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Have you?¡±


    Her only response was another sad smile, one that said everything and nothing at all. Instinctively, I knew she was talking about her marriage to my father.


    The silence grew between us until I couldn¡¯t bear it any longer.


    ¡°How¡¯s father doing today? Any better?¡±


    Her grim continued silence was my answer. It was enough.


    Light footsteps prodded into the darkness that was the breakfast nook where Cerise and I held our muted stalemate. A light switch flicked on, the electric rays of light flashing on in the kitchen, illuminating us in a harsh white glow.


    ¡°Alyss,¡± Cerise said sweetly, her entire demeanor changing now that we had an audience. ¡°Come sit with us. I trust you slept well?¡±


    Alyss only smiled, giving no hints as to how she slept, or even what bedroom she may have emerged from. My cheeks reddened involuntarily, and I hurried to cover my blush with a sip from my coffee.


    ¡°I did, your home is beautiful and lush. You¡¯re too kind to let me stay here, it was much more convenient than traipsing all the way back home.¡±


    ¡°Of course, dear, it¡¯s our pleasure,¡± Cerise said.


    Their polite small talk droned on, and I zoned out into my coffee.


    ¡°¡­ don¡¯t you think?¡± Cerise said.


    I looked upwards, startled. I hadn¡¯t been paying attention, and she had addressed me. I had no idea what she had said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡±


    ¡°Chef¡¯s not here, and our pantry is positively bare,¡± Cerise repeated for me. ¡°Don¡¯t you think you should be a gentleman and take Alyss out to a lovely brunch?¡±


    I blinked, glancing at Alyss. She looked back at me, smiling an easy, pleasant smile, a flicker of hope and excitement in her eyes. Internally, my heart sank. I felt bad for her; after what we¡¯d been through together last night, I could hardly deny her and Cerise¡¯s request. Although it felt more like a demand from my stepmother, however.


    ¡°I¡¯d be honored,¡± I said finally, earning a relieved sigh from Cerise and a wider smile from Alyss. ¡°Do you have a place in mind?¡±

 Fourteen

    The caf¨¦ that had Alyss had chosen was quaint, a popular little place right in the heart of downtown. It sat around the corner from the [house of lords], surrounded by skyscrapers and pristine city buildings. The [central park] was just across the street, edged by skyscrapers, but was lush and green, a beautiful distraction from the hustle and bustle of the city life. Alyss had requested a seat at their outdoor balcony, so we sat in the brisk spring air, watching the cars zoom by. Each and every one of the cars were shiny and new, their passengers just as perfectly groomed as their vehicles.


    Alyss sat demurely in her wrought iron chair, across from me, her leg bouncing from excitement. She wore a high neck stylish dress that she had borrowed from Cerise; it was a golden, pale yellow, which only highlighted the golden hues in her hair. She was radiant. Seeing and appreciating her beauty only made me feel worse.


    We had just finished eating and were finishing our mimosas. I barely touched mine, having had plenty of champagne lately.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t this place wonderful?¡± she said, her eyes searching mine for approval.


    ¡°Um, yeah, it¡¯s great,¡± I said halfheartedly.


    I wondered if Mea had seen my message. Discreetly, I tried to check my WaComm, twisting my wrist so that I could see the indicator screen. I looked up to catch Alyss looking disappointed in me. I couldn¡¯t bear to upset her, not when I¡¯d been disappointing everyone else ¨C including myself ¨C in the last twenty four hours.


    ¡°I¡¯m just turning it off,¡± I said, removing it from my wrist, severing the power connection to my skin. ¡°That way, it¡¯s just me and you.¡±


    She grinned, showing her perfect teeth and glimmery lips. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°So, tell me what you¡¯re thinking,¡± she said, her elbows resting on the table, her hands supporting her head.


    I raised my eyebrows. ¡°As pertains to what?¡±


    She grinned mischievously. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can guess.¡±


    I swallowed heavily. She wanted to talk about last night. Surely, to her, this was a big step in our relationship. And she wasn¡¯t wrong, it normally would be in any other case, especially given our circumstances. ¡°Hmm, you¡¯re right, I can.¡± I cleared my throat. ¡°I mean, what is it you want me to say?¡±


    She faltered, then regained her composure. ¡°I¡¯d like to hear whatever it is you¡¯re thinking. I still don¡¯t¡­ expect¡­ anything.¡±


    ¡°Look Alyss, I¡­,¡± I trailed off.


    I didn¡¯t know what to tell her. What sort of thing could I say to rationalize this to her, let alone myself? Because as I looked at her, I thought of the words Cerise said to me this morning. Sacrifices, she had said. We all must make sacrifices. It was inevitable. I knew this was what she meant, that to marry Alyss was to make the sacrifice of personal choice. I knew she had been referring to her own personal experience in the matter ¨C I knew Cerise and my father hadn¡¯t married for love. But was it worth it? Did I have to become Prime Minister so badly? Was I willing to sacrifice what could be the key to my own personal fulfillment and happiness for power? At the moment ¨C no. I solidified my decision. I would turn down this deal with AUT, and I would tell Mea I was hers. There was no other course that would bring me any sort of peace. It had to be done. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re still figuring things out,¡± Alyss said, interrupting my thoughts. ¡°That¡¯s okay. We can take things slow, or pretend it never happened at all.¡±


    I could tell she was saying the words, and maybe she wanted to mean them, but I could see she didn¡¯t like what she was suggesting. It said a lot for her determination though, and I admired that about her. Despite the fact that her and I could never be together again like that, I admired her. She was a strong, capable woman, with much more to her than I¡¯d ever thought.


    ¡°You¡¯re an amazing woman,¡± I said.


    Her eyes sparkled.


    ¡°You¡¯re smart, beautiful, and strong,¡± I continued. ¡°Having known you has truly been an honor. But in the last day or so, I¡¯ve realized something¡­¡± I gulped, the words becoming harder and harder to enunciate as I watched her. ¡°I¡­ we can¡¯t be together. I can¡¯t accept your father¡¯s deal.¡±


    Her face fell. Immediately, I felt like  a monster. How could I destroy the hope of someone so pure? What sort of asshole was I? Despite the guilt, I held fast to my decision. This was the way it had to be, I reasoned.


    ¡°I¡­ understand,¡± she said slowly. ¡°You have to follow your heart.¡± She looked down into her lap. ¡°Who is she?¡±


    I blinked, surprised. How did she know? ¡°How¡­?¡±


    ¡°Men don¡¯t turn down women that could give them the world without a reason. It could only be her. Who is she?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t answer. Of course, I couldn¡¯t say Mea¡¯s name, nor would it matter. But apparently, the shocked look on my face was enough. She accepted my silence as a response, as it was.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, I suppose it¡¯s irrelevant,¡± she said, her voice thick. ¡°I should¡¯ve known I wouldn¡¯t be enough.¡± She looked up, perhaps trying her best to hold back tears.


    My heart broke for her. She was much more invested in whatever she thought we had than I¡¯d expected; I never figured her to be into me enough to be this upset.


    ¡°Come here,¡± I said, unable to resist offering any sort of comfort. I stood, my arms open to embrace her.


    She eyed me cautiously for a moment, then stood to join me, grasping her arms around my middle as if I were a buoy, and she lost at sea. I caressed her back, my fingers tangling in her hair. We hugged like this for a moment, until I could feel her relax in my arms.


    She pulled back to look up at me, the wetness in her eyes enlarging them, as if I were looking into those deep blues through a microscope.


    ¡°This might be strange,¡± she said, a half smile flitting across her lips. ¡°But could I have one last kiss?¡±


    I sighed. Her lips trembled, either from anxiety or sadness, I wasn¡¯t sure. But I couldn¡¯t deny her this little request, especially not after how many kisses we¡¯d shared the night before. What was another?


    I leaned in to close the distance between us, my lips touching hers softly.


    At that moment, lights flashed in my face. Sudden and bright, more and more flickered and flashed, blinding us. We separated, startled and surprised.


    ¡°Fucking paparazzi,¡± I growled. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

 Fifteen

    I walked in a grumpy, sour mood back towards my apartment. Alyss and I had escaped the paparazzi by hiding in the kitchen of the caf¨¦; fortunately, the owner had been gracious enough to let us buy some time there. I¡¯d called the car for her, had it drop her off at her own apartment, and I would walk home. The paparazzi followed the car for a bit, as I went the opposite direction, then faded off. I knew it was a bit of a drive to get to Alyss¡¯ apartment, as she said, so I hoped the car would be able to lose all of the photographers in that time. Fortunately, no one had pursued me. They probably assumed I was in my own car.


    I felt less and less lucky as the walk seemed to take forever back to the penthouse. I scowled to myself, the brisk spring air chillier than I¡¯d anticipated for how I¡¯d dressed today. I hadn¡¯t brought a jacket or anything. Then, I realized my WaComm was still off from earlier. What if Mea had responded?


    I retrieved the [[hone] from my pocket and placed it onto my wrist, the connection with my skin powering it on.


    There was a message from her. It said,¡± call me.¡±


    My heart leapt, thankful she¡¯d finally been able to respond. I would call her as soon as I could, but I had one more important call to make first. I dialed up the number to Zack Bateman.


    He picked up after only a couple seconds. ¡°Bateman speaking.¡±


    ¡°This is Torven Montgomery, sir.¡±


    ¡°Indeed it is. What can I do for you, young man?¡±


    ¡°I refuse Aruga United Technology¡¯s deal. I will not marry Alyss, and I will not accept your money. Consider it off.¡±


    I hung up, the feeling of power surging through me. I felt as if I could do anything, like I finally had myself on track. I was a man with a plan. Now that was taken care of, I could tend to something more important. Mea.


    I dialed her number, waiting for her to answer.


    ¡°Hello?¡± came a clear, familiar voice.


    I smiled involuntarily. ¡°Hi Mea,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s Torven. I have a lot to tell you.¡°


    ¡°Oh, do you?¡± she said mischievously. ¡°Can I come over, then?¡±


    My smile widened, if that were even possible. ¡°Absolutely. Let me give you the address. Call it, three o clock?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you there,¡± she said, her words teasing me. She hung up.


    I swiped through the WaComm, sending her my apartment address. I couldn¡¯t contain the excitement that grew within me. After all this time I hadn¡¯t seen her, now she was coming to my apartment. I couldn¡¯t wait to see what would happen, with these new possibilities opening up. Plus, of course, I couldn¡¯t wait to see her. Without her, life was dull and gray, boring and mundane.


    Speaking of people I hadn¡¯t seen in a while, I hadn¡¯t seen Sheen since the last time I¡¯d seen Mea, eating breakfast at her house that night we had gotten drunk and Mea had let us sleep it off. I wondered what he was up to. It was still quite a walk until I got back to my apartment, so I decided to call Sheen and see what he was up to. It was Sunday, so he should be off work, at least. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I dialed him up, too.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, dude? I just got off work.¡±


    ¡°On Sunday? What is wrong with you?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Got lots of important work to do, my friend. What¡¯s going on with you? Been a while.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re damn right. And I¡¯ve got a shitload of things going on with me. Do you have a few to hear it?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Sheen said.


    I told him the entire saga of what had been going on in the last month, particularly with how I¡¯d spent last night and today, ending with how I¡¯d just turned down the AUT deal officially.


    ¡°Wow, man,¡± Sheen said. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a lot. You alright?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­¡± I said. And I wasn¡¯t lying; I felt more than alright. ¡°I¡¯m seeing Mea this afternoon.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s why you feel fine,¡± he said, teasing me. ¡°I get ya. Speaking of, you remember her friend, Ha¡¯ana?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°She and I have been spending some time together too.¡±


    I could hear the excitement in his voice. It was obvious he was just as smitten as I was. ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Fuck yes it¡¯s so. She¡¯s awesome,¡± he sighed. ¡°I¡¯m really falling for her. She¡¯s smart, and fierce, and an inventor. I guess the Nari¡¯e traditionally have inventors as their leaders, back in the islands anyway. She and I really have a lot in common.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a match made by fate,¡± I said, eyebrows raised.


    ¡°Yeah, man. I guess she¡¯s got a kid though, which doesn¡¯t bother me, but I haven¡¯t met them yet. Not sure how that¡¯d go.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s something,¡± I said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t change anything for you?¡±


    ¡°Nope. She challenges me and makes me think, and I love that about her.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯ve gotten to see her a lot lately?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not as much as I¡¯d like,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve been having to work a lot, as usual.¡±


    ¡°What kind of stuff you been doing?¡±


    Sheen just laughed again. ¡°You know I can¡¯t tell you that, shit¡¯s classified.¡±


    I laughed at him. ¡°Bitch, just wait ¡®til I¡¯m Prime Minister, I¡¯ll make you tell me.¡±


    ¡°Ha! I got plenty of time for that, apparently, since you turned down AUT.¡±


    I quieted down. He was right; I¡¯d turned down AUT just minutes before, and couldn¡¯t help but feel afraid for the future. I had no idea what would happen now.


    ¡°Do you think that was a mistake?¡± I asked Sheen, suddenly questioning every decision I¡¯ve ever made in my entire life.


    ¡°Did you do what you thought was right?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¡°Then you did the best you could. Nobody could ever demand more.¡± Sheen paused, and I let him use the silence to think. ¡°Do you think if you had to, you could change your mind?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. I was pretty rude.¡±


    ¡°Then stop worrying about it. If you can¡¯t change it, there¡¯s no use stressing.¡±


    Sheen was right, as he often was. I felt thankful that he was back in my life, that my old friend was around to help me out when I needed it. I looked up to notice I was on my block, and only around the corner from my apartment.


    ¡°Hey man, I¡¯m almost home. I¡¯ll call you later and we should hang out.¡±


    ¡°Sure, just let me know,¡± he said.


    The WaComm went silent as I approached my front door. I hurried inside and up the elevator as quickly as I could, eager to get ready to see Mea. I wanted to take a shower, to wash off the weirdness of the morning, maybe even set out a snack for us to eat while we talked. I could feel the excitement brimming up inside me, threatening to overflow. I rushed through picking up the apartment, even though everything had been straightened up by the maids as they usually did when I was out of the house. I couldn¡¯t stop the smile from lighting up my face, just thinking about what I would say to Mea when she got here. Would she let me hug her when I greeted her? Maybe even let me kiss her? I wondered what she would be wearing. A bright patterned Nari¡¯e wrap, or a modern, Arugan style dress? I couldn¡¯t wait to see.


    My WaComm went off. It was her.


    I¡¯m outside


    My heart beat rapidly; I was about to find out.

 Sixteen

    I couldn¡¯t contain my excitement as I practically bounced to the screen that would allow her entry into my building. I grinned wider with each button press that unlocked the door just for her fingerprint. I knew we were about to have a serious talk, but the thought of seeing her in person was overwhelming any sense of anxiety about it; instead, all I had was pure joy and anticipation. I messaged her on my WaComm giving her instructions on how to enter the front door.


    As soon as I¡¯d sent the message, I decided I didn''t want to do things this way. Giving her access to my apartment like ths was so impersonal ¨C I wanted to walk her up to the elevator, escort her through the hallway, and let her in myself. I pushed through my apartment door, springing down into the elevator, and out through the lobby. It was all I could do not to run to meet her.


    She stood there just about to push the building door open when I¡¯d reached the lobby. The sun shone bright through the windows, reflecting and bouncing around the shiny floors. She opened the door, the glass reflecting as it moved, blinding me momentarily.


    Her hair was in two buns this time, instead of her usual hairstyle. Typically, she used two clips to hold back just enough from her face, letting the rest bounce freely about her neck. I found I liked this look much better; with her hair up and out of the way, I could see the graceful curve of her neck much better. As always, she was breathtaking. She hadn¡¯t dressed up, or at least, she was wearing what seemed to be casual clothing, nothing like the dresses I¡¯d dreamed of seeing on her. Instead, she had donned a loose fitting sweater, hung loose off of one shoulder, and a pair of comfortable looking jeans. She still looked a vision, though, even without a polished outfit.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I croaked out. ¡°Glad you found the place.¡±


    She looked around, her big brown eyes taking in the sights of the lobby. ¡°I should¡¯ve expected something like this,¡± she said. ¡°Which unit is yours? You didn¡¯t say.¡±


    ¡°Oh, the whole building is ours,¡± I said with a forced casualness that I didn¡¯t feel. I wanted her to be impressed. ¡°I have a whole floor to myself.¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer, instead just standing there, still looking around. I couldn¡¯t tell if she was impressed or not. She didn¡¯t say a word and kept on her poker face. Was she overwhelmed by my wealth? Suddenly, I felt ashamed of all that I had. Would seeing my apartment be too much? I remembered her small, cozy house, and realized it would fit its first floor in half of my building¡¯s lobby. Did she realize that too?


    ¡°Erm, we can go on up,¡± I said. ¡°The fifth floor is mine, my stepmother has the one above, and my father¡¯s office is the eighth, but they¡¯re not here right now.¡± I was rambling. She made me nervous, even after all we¡¯d been through together. There was just something about her that did things to me.


    She followed me into the elevator, still just taking in the sights and not saying much.


    ¡°I guess we can talk more when we get into the apartment.¡±


    She just nodded, calm and collected while I was falling apart.


    I gulped; what was she thinking? Was she going to tell me bad news, and didn¡¯t want to break it to me before we got somewhere comfortable? Did she not want me to make a scene? It wasn¡¯t as if there wa s a lot of people down there, and I¡¯d pretty much told her we were the only ones in the building at the moment. I found myself becoming more and more confused by the minute.


    The elevator dinged, telling us we were at the floor I¡¯d designated. Mine.


    ¡°This is it,¡± I said unccessarily.


    We stepped out towards my door, which in my excitement, I¡¯d left partially ajar, earning a raised eyebrow from her. I said nothing about it, instead opening it for her, like the gentleman I so desperately wanted to be.


    ¡°Um, sorry if it¡¯s messy,¡± I said. ¡°I haven¡¯t been home much lately.¡±


    Of course, it was still spotless. I¡¯d fine tuned a few things, and the maids had been continuing their work as they always had. I¡¯d never come home to a messy apartment; I didn¡¯t know why I was apologizing for something I¡¯d never expect.


    ¡°It¡¯s so beautiful,¡± she said, turning around slowly as she took it all in. ¡°I almost can¡¯t believe it.¡±


    ¡°I feel the same way,¡± I whispered, but my eyes were on her.


    She flicked her gaze back towards me, her cheeks reddening. She¡¯d heard me. She stopped her perusal of the living area and made her way to the couch. When she sat, she patted the seat next to her.


    ¡°We should talk,¡± she said.


    I swallowed hard. She was about to tell me she didn¡¯t want to see me anymore, I just knew it. But, like the lovesick puppy I was, I followed her instructions, sitting softly onto the luxurious cushion and stared into her eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, stopping me before I could say anything.


    I blinked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I haven¡¯t been talking to you much lately,¡± she continued, continuing to surprise me. ¡°Things have been really busy with Ka Po¡¯e. Their expectations of me have been growing and growing, and I¡¯ve not been able to turn them down.¡± She looked down at her WaComm. It was visibly cracked and dingy. She tapped it, hard, barely waking the screen. ¡°And this thing is a piece of shit. But that¡¯s not an excuse.¡±


    ¡°Mea, I understand,¡± I said, surprising myself with how compassionate my voice sounded. I didn''t know I had it in me, and that was coming from myself. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to have to live up to other people¡¯s expectations of you, to have people counting on you.¡±


    She smiled softly at me. ¡°Of course, you do, Lord Montgomery.¡±


    I blushed. ¡°I¡¯m not a Lord yet,¡± I said. I eyed her old, barely functioning WaComm, and decided that I would buy one for her as a surprise. Then, she wouldn¡¯t have that holding her back, and maybe she could talk to me more.


    ¡°Not yet?¡± she said playfully.


    ¡°Not yet. Although I think it¡¯ll be sooner that I¡¯d ever expected.¡± I sighed. ¡°Can I tell you a secret?¡±


    She leaned in to face me, her big eyes imploring. ¡°You¡¯ve kept my identity secret, I can keep one of yours.¡±


    ¡°My father is sick. Like, really sick. He¡¯s training me as his apprentice, but he plans on retiring by the end of the year, I think. Much sooner than I ever would¡¯ve thought.¡±


    ¡°So, you will be a Lord soon,¡± she said, this time, with a hint of sadness and compassion instead of the playful teasing that had been there a moment before.


    ¡°It seems so,¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry your father isn¡¯t doing well,¡± she said, leaning in even closer. ¡°May I hug you?¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    I smiled shyly. ¡°Mea, you never need to ask.¡± I closed the distance between us, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, the heat of her breath on my neck.Her presence was comforting, as much as exhilarating. We broke apart, and she slipped her hand from my shoulder to my knee.


    ¡°At least you get this chance to say goodbye,¡± she said wistfully. ¡°If it really is so serious.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t thought of it that way. All this time, I¡¯d been worried about how I wouldn¡¯t have enough time to learn from my father to succeed him. Mea was worried I wouldn''t have enough time to say the things I needed to say to him. She was right, and I needed to tell him about the AUT deal, how I¡¯d turned it down. And much else besides.


    Which reminded me. There was another person I needed to tell about those developments.


    ¡°Mea, I have another secret to tell you,¡± I said sheepishly.


    ¡°Another?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot, actually¡­ but I¡¯ll tell them all to you. Just give me a moment, and then I¡¯ll answer whatever questions you have.¡±


    She nodded.


    I proceeded to tell her from the beginning, how AUT had approached me, how they¡¯d brokered a deal, exchanging Alyss for their crucial support in making me PM. I told her how Alyss and I went to the police charity ball, the new stop and search law, how Alyss had stayed the night. I skipped some details, of course. No need for that. I¡¯d broken things off with AUT and Alyss regardless. I also left out the brunch with Alyss this morning, as that chapter was over with. What would help by telling Mea how I¡¯d spent even more time with another woman?


    ¡°¡­and as it turns out, just before you came by, I called AUT to tell them I wasn¡¯t taking their deal. I wouldn¡¯t sell my heart for their money.¡±


    She blinked. It was a lot to take in, I knew, but she was a smart girl. I just hoped she wasn¡¯t an angry one. How would she take all of this? I basically just came clean about seeing another woman, even if it was forced. I expected to be slapped, for her to run off, tears even. But not this.


    ¡°You said there¡¯s a new law in action?¡± she said finally.


    ¡°Um, yeah,¡± I said. ¡°That wasn¡¯t the part I thought you¡¯d take from that, but yeah.¡±


    She looked visibly paler. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ very bad news, Torven. We¡¯re already being targeted, and if they enforce that law, take advantage of that law? Our freedoms, what limited ones we have, are going to be trampled upon. My people will fill the jails, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all to find this rampant murderer, though, Mea,¡± I insisted. ¡°It¡¯s for the greater good. The sooner we find that psycho, the faster everyone is safe, and then we can all go back to normal.¡±


    She stayed silent for a moment.


    ¡°So you¡¯re not mad about the whole Alyss and AUT thing?¡± I said quietly, as if treading on eggshells.


    She sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not angry. I¡¯m disappointed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I spent time with another woman like that, I had to! I don''t want to! I wanted her to be you the whole time ¨C¡°


    She cut me off. ¡°I¡¯m disappointed that you threw away your best future for me.¡± Her eyes stared into my soul, and I don¡¯t think they liked what they saw. ¡°You tossed away the most monumental chance, one that people like me would never even see, and for what? I don¡¯t like the idea of you dating another woman, obviously, but this almost hurts worse.¡±


    That really was unexpected.


    ¡°We barely know each other,¡± she continued. ¡°I¡¯d like to get to know you better, of course I do, but this is crazy!¡± She grabbed both of my hands. ¡°You have to see that this is crazy.¡± Her eyes roamed mine, desperate, pleading.


    I kissed her. I held her face in my hands, gently, so gently, and kissed her soft, sweet lips. She leaned into it, twisting my hair in her fingers, pressing closer and closer into me until we fell back onto the couch. Still, we kissed, our mouths a dance, our breath exchanging, our hearts beating like a stampede. It was feral, a frenzy, the passion that we shared. We couldn¡¯t stop, couldn¡¯t sense anything else except each other. I couldn¡¯t feel the couch below me, except I knew it must be there.


    Suddenly, she broke away, straddled stop me as I lay back on the couch. She breathed heavily, as did I, her lips swollen from our sudden embrace. Her eyes were searching, vulnerable, and she whispered to me.


    ¡°Why did you do it? Why would you turn that down?¡±


    There was only one answer. ¡°For you.¡±


    A moment of silence as the knowledge dawned in her eyes, the truth that I was absolutely smitten with her, in love with her even. Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine, then to my lips. I rushed back into her kiss, blood pumping in my ears, my heart, my throat. There was nothing but her; I was consumed by her being. In between sighs and pants of breath, I heard her heart pounding too. It was as if we were one person in two bodies. This was so much more than Alyss could ever give me, though I could barely connect enough of the dots in my head for that to even occur to me.


    Ping pong ping pong


    I groaned, unwilling to stop what we had started. And, after hearing that obnoxious and ancient ringtone, I was really going to have to buy her a new WaComm with the discreet sensor ring, like I had.


    She answered it, sitting up, a concerned look on her face. It only grew darker and darker, her expression stormy and filled with anger, yet there was unmistakable fear in the slightest tremble of her lips, even though she held them taut. Something bad was happening, of that there was no doubt. I settled back into the couch, waiting for her to tell me.


    She hung up, resting the WaComm on her leg.


    ¡°It¡¯s Ha¡¯ana,¡± she said as she gathered her WaComm back into her pocket, her hands searching for her wallet and whatever else she had brought here.


    ¡°She okay?¡± I asked. I was worried ¨C first of all, it was clear that Mea was leaving, which was something I didn¡¯t like. Whatever Ha¡¯ana had said on the WaComm, it was bad news, so I didn¡¯t like that either.


    ¡°Yes ¨C well, no ¨C but it¡¯s not Ha¡¯ana, it¡¯s Pa¡¯ani.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± I shook my head, confused. ¡°Wait, what is happening?¡±


    ¡°Pa¡¯ani has been arrested,¡± Mea said, standing up and patting her pockets to double check everything was there. ¡°Shit!¡± she hissed.


    Mea was becoming more and more panicked, her fear trembling her fingers, though she spoke calmly. I tried to remember if I¡¯d met anyone named Pa¡¯ani, or why Ha¡¯ana would be so upset about it.


    ¡°Mea, stop.¡± I grabbed her wrist and forced her to pause in her panic.


    She flailed back at me wildly, instantly incensed by being tethered. But, it did what I wanted it to. She was focusing on the here and now, instead of what could be happening out there.


    ¡°Mea, talk to me. Tell me what happened, and we can figure out what to do about it.¡± I dropped her wrist.


    Her eyes narrowed at me, wary, then softened. She sighed. ¡°Pa¡¯ani is Ha¡¯ana¡¯s daughter. She¡¯s been arrested, on the grounds of that new fucking law. That poor child is in custody right now. Do you have any idea how terrifying that is for me? For Ha¡¯ana?¡±


    I remembered how she¡¯d lost her brother in a similar situation. Pa¡¯ani was probably like a daughter to her, as Ha¡¯ana was her best friend. I could see how Mea was reasonably upset and worried, but there really wasn¡¯t much we could do. Besides, if Pa¡¯ani was innocent, then there¡¯s nothing for her to worry about.


    ¡°Mea, Pa¡¯ani is only a kid,¡± I said, trying my best to remember if Mea had mentioned anything about her before. ¡°The cops won¡¯t hurt her. And she¡¯s innocent, she¡¯s got nothing to hide. The cops are just trying to find this murderer, not trying to terrorize children.¡± I took in a deep breath to calm both myself and Mea. It didn¡¯t really work. ¡°Besides, what could you even do about it?¡±


    ¡°I could go in there and demand they let her go, for starters!¡± Mea spat.


    ¡°They¡¯re legally able to do this now,¡± I responded. ¡°They¡¯re completely within their rights. Pa¡¯ani isn¡¯t their target though, she¡¯ll be totally fine.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she, though?¡± whispered Mea under her breath.


    I wondered if she thought I didn¡¯t hear her. I ignored it, in case she didn¡¯t want me to. Of course Pa¡¯ani wasn¡¯t who the police were trying to catch, she was a child! But Mea was in no state to hear that, I knew. Instead I tried to comfort her, but Mea kept walking away. She was headed towards the door, and if I couldn¡¯t talk her out of it, she would march right up to those cops and probably get herself arrested, too.


    ¡°Pa¡¯ani is the one who stole your wallet that night,¡± Mea spat as she maneuvered around the couch towards the exit. ¡°Do you think she has nothing to hide?¡±


    My jaw fell open. That little brat is Ha¡¯ana¡¯s daughter? I barely remembered her from that night, as it was mostly a drunken blur. She pickpocketed me, then ran away and led me to be mugged. Although, undoubtedly, it did end with meeting the most beautiful woman I¡¯d ever seen, so I¡¯d quickly forgotten those inconveniences.


    ¡°Exactly. Pair with that her association with me and Ka Po¡¯e, and she¡¯s as good as dead in that jail.¡± She turned on her heel and marched away.


    But just before she touched the door to open it, she turned back around to say one last thing to me.


    ¡°You want us to be together? You have to change things for us. The Nari¡¯e need to be able to live here, freedom uninhibited, or be allowed to return home. And maybe you could¡¯ve done something about it.¡±


    And with that, she slammed the door behind her, the effect of her sharp words and then the silence of her absence piercing through my entire soul.

 Seventeen

    A few days later


    I slumped on the couch, exhausted after a day of work at the office. It was still exciting, being an apprentice for the Cabinet, but since the police charity ball, it¡¯s been different. For starters, my father has been conspicuously absent. I hadn¡¯t seen him since that night, really. He sent messages from home, though, still giving me advice and guidance, though I picked up his slack in the office. It was almost like he was taking a step back so I could leap forward. I wondered if it was part of his plan, forcing me to step up while he was still there to catch my mistakes, if necessary.


    I was pleased to say that the mistakes on my part were minimal, and I felt like I was excelling. My colleagues were quick to note on my proficiency, and how quickly I¡¯d been spun up on the job. Though, I had been preparing for this my whole life. If I didn¡¯t take to it, it would be strange. I¡¯d expected this for years, to one day resume my father¡¯s political burdens. I just thought he would be by my side when I began to do so.


    I¡¯d heard little from Mea, just enough to know that Pa¡¯ani was okay, out of police custody, and that nobody had been charged. It was nothing short of a miracle, to quote Mea, as Pa¡¯ani allegedly had a stash of stolen goods on her person. Apparently, she had been nicking pocket goods out on the street when she¡¯d been apprehended. It took several WaComm calls from me and promises of further donations to ensure her safety and quick release, a fact I had decided to keep from Mea for the time being.


    I¡¯d called the police department as soon as Mea had left my place, and made sure Pa¡¯ani would be taken care of. But I wanted my involvement in her safety to  be a surprise to Mea, one to couple the gift I¡¯d bought her. I wanted to give it to her in a special way, something that told her how much I cared about her. I wanted to ask her to make it official, to ask if I could call her mine. I dreamed of taking her out to a fancy, luxurious five star restaurant, spoiling her with presents and fine dining, and ending the evening by making her truly mine.


    I eyed the impeccably wrapped box on the counter that held Mea¡¯s new WaComm. I had bought it for her the day after she had come to see me, hoping she¡¯d be able to message me more often with a new WaComm. Of course, I understood she was busy with important things to do, but then again, it was the same with me and I still had time to message her. Clearly, a new WaComm would fix the problem. She was just hung up on using that old piece of junk.


    The evening was promising to be dull. It was Wednesday, late enough in the week to be too tired to repeat another day, yet too early to be excited for the weekend just yet. It wasn¡¯t as if I could stay up late going out on the town, as I knew I had to be up early in the morning. Yet, I felt antsy; I needed some socialization that wasn¡¯t work related. It seemed that was all I had done as of late, was talk about work.


    I decided to invite Sheen over, typing out a quick message and sending it. Before he could respond, I also added a request to bring some takeout if he could come.


    Fortunately, he agreed to both coming over and to bringing food; a fact I rejoiced in. There was something special about sharing cheap regional food with your best friend. Maybe I could unload some of this stress on him, or hear something about what he was up to. HE was  a busy man too, but I knew he still had time to woo his Ha¡¯ana. I was eager to hear an update about that.


    It wasn¡¯t too long before Sheen was at my door and then in my apartment. The traditional Arugan fare he had brought steamed, the water vapor burning the eyes with the promise of a heavily spiced meal.  My mouth watered.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, fucker,¡± Sheen greeted me cheerfully as he plopped the crinkling bag filled with spicy goodness on my counter.


    ¡°Give me some of that,¡± I said, rushing over to dig into the bag.


    Sheen smacked my hand away. ¡°Get away, peasant. That there¡¯s mine. I bought it, fair and square.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°I paid for half, dickwad.¡± I shoved my hand back into the bag, searching for my portion. I pulled out a Styrofoam container filled with noodles.


    We devoured our food in approximately four minutes and thirty-two seconds. Sheen timed it.


    ¡°Dude, you¡¯ve got issues,¡± he said after I¡¯d beat him.


    ¡°You¡¯re just a sore loser.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Ugh, I¡¯ve been feeling like one lately, I¡¯ll tell you the damn truth.¡± He settled in on the couch, flopping onto it haphazardly.


    ¡°Why¡¯s that? Work got you down?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said heavily, tossing his head back to lean against the cushions. ¡°Nobody listens to me over there. I know I¡¯m still kinda new, but all they care about is money.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I mean, that¡¯s what jobs are for. Money.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess, but this is research, ground breaking research! Aren¡¯t you supposed to care more about the science than just securing another contract?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°You get paid though, right?¡±


    He sighed again. ¡°Yes, there¡¯s that. I just¡­ I just wish there was more emphasis on the importance of our work, and less on the financial side¡­ my bosses kinda suck. Well, you know them.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°You keep forgetting that I contract under AUT, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I would never forget that.¡±


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ liar,¡± he laughed. ¡°Anyway, speaking of AUT¡­ how¡¯s Alyss?¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t spoken to her since that day we got brunch and I turned down her dad¡¯s deal.¡±


    ¡°Not a peep?¡±


    ¡°Not a whisper.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t even tell her you were turning it down?¡±


    ¡°She knew we weren¡¯t like, anything exclusive. We weren¡¯t dating. I¡¯m sure she found out from her dad. Why would I have to say anything?¡±


    ¡°Uh, to be a fucking gentleman, you coward sack of shit?¡±


    ¡°Dick,¡± I said, smacking his arm. ¡°What are you, the expert in the arts of women?¡±


    ¡°No, but apparently I¡¯m better at it than you.¡± He waggled his eyebrows.


    ¡°Oh, shit dude, you¡¯ve gotta tell me what¡¯s been going on with you and Ha¡¯ana. You meet her kid yet?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, actually. Went better than I expected, too. She¡¯s funny. But yes, since you asked, Ha¡¯ana and I have been really doing well. I¡¯m going to ask her to be my girlfriend.¡±


    ¡°No fucking way! I¡¯m planning on asking Mea the same thing!¡±


    Sheen just laughed. ¡°You¡¯ve got your work cut out for ya. That woman sure knows what she wants, and how to get it. She¡¯s a loaded gun, that one.¡±


    ¡°What do you meam?¡±


    ¡°Exactly what I said. You¡¯re lucky, if what she wants is you. From what I¡¯ve heard from Ha¡¯ana, Mea is a badass bitch who doesn¡¯t take shit from anyone. Which you probably already knew.¡±


    I thought back to my encounters with Mea. Sheen wasn¡¯t wrong. ¡°You might be right, Dr. Fisher.¡±


    ¡°Of fucking course I am.¡± He paused for a moment, the silence growing between us. ¡°Hey man, how¡¯s your dad doing?¡±


    I took a deep breath before answering. ¡°Not great, I don¡¯t think.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve not actually seen him in person for a while. He hasn¡¯t been into work, just like messaging me instructions and stuff. He didn¡¯t look good when I last saw him though, and he¡¯s definitely sick. I just hope he gets better soon.¡±


    ¡°Have you told him about turning the AUT deal down yet?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do if he finds out by accident?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hoping I¡¯ll be able to tell him in person, like someone who isn¡¯t a cowardly piece of shit.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be able to. Go see him next weekend, maybe. I bet he¡¯s just resting up at the estate, with Cerise.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I should do that. I¡¯ll go see him this weekend.¡±


    Just then, I felt the notification signal from my WaComm. It was Cerise.


    ¡°Hey Cerise, how are you?¡± I said politely. It was strange for her to be calling me in general, let alone this late on a Wednesday evening. ¡°What do you need?¡±


    ¡°You need to come to the hospital, now. It¡¯s your father.¡±

 Eighteen

    Without a word, Sheen and I hopped into my car. It went agonizingly slow, the autodrive following the traffic laws, going exactly as fast as it could with the other auto traffic. But it wasn¡¯t fast enough, wasn¡¯t fast enough for me, for my father. I didn¡¯t know what was wrong exactly, but instinctively, I knew that time was important. There was so much I had left to say to my father, so much I was afraid to form aloud into words. I twisted my fingers around the seat belt, crunching the fabric in my palms, crushing it again and again.


    Finally, we¡¯d arrived at the urgent center. Through the glass, a figure paced back and forth across the room. As we jogged closer, I could see it was Cerise. She was making her rounds about the waiting area, a worried look on her face and her fingernail in her mouth, gnawing. I felt my stomach flip over, again, for perhaps the twelfth time since I¡¯d gotten her WaComm call.


    She looked up when we walked in, the door chiming our arrival. Wordless, she half ran, half walked, up to me, her arms open. I embraced her, her hair impeccably done, even now. It tickled my chin, as she only came up just past my shoulder.


    I cleared my throat, and she separated from me. ¡°What is going on? What happened?¡± I managed to croak out.


    She sniffled. ¡°Ralen, he ¨C oh god, I don¡¯t really know. The doctors haven¡¯t been back out.¡±


    ¡°Where is he?¡±


    ¡°In surgery,¡± she answered. ¡°He had just¡­ collapsed, back at the house. I called the ambulance. And now they won¡¯t even let me back there to know what¡¯s happening.¡± Her eyes were distant, her voice monotone. She was clearly in shock, the whole chain of events barely processing for her.


    I could sympathize.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay,¡± I said, rubbing her shoulder. ¡°The doctors will come out soon, and you know they¡¯ll do everything they can for him. Medical science has come a long way, you know.¡±


    She smiled the smallest of smiles at that, a heartless chuckle leaving her lips. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s not much we can do but wait.¡± She looked up to me and Sheen, as if noticing he was here for the first time. Maybe that was accurate.


    ¡°¡­How about I go get us some coffees, yeah?¡± Sheen suggested. ¡°It looks like this will probably be a long night.¡±


    We nodded, and he hurried away, probably just eager to leave the tension of the waiting room and the uncertainty. I wished I could go with him, but I knew there was no way I was leaving Cerise to sit here by herself, even more.


    I led Cerise to a nearby chair; a wallscreen droned on about something I couldn¡¯t focus on, the background noise a small comfort in this strange situation. We sat, saying nothing, waiting for Sheen to return, for the doctors to come out and give us any news, for the planet to explode, anything. But nothing happened.


    After about thirty minutes, Sheen returned with caffeine, which we gratefully took and sipped. The warm liquid did its best to comfort me, but there wasn¡¯t much it could do unless it could tell me what was going on in the OR. And unfortunately, the coffee had no visions on its surface, no reflections depicting the future, no matter how hard I looked.


    More time passed. It could¡¯ve been minutes, it could¡¯ve been hours, hell, it could¡¯ve been days at the way things were going. The waiting room was like a strange sect of the universe where time did not exist. There were the same fluorescent lights, reminiscent of daylight, but at the same time, so far removed from it that it was as if we were on a different planet. The receptionist scrolling on her WaComm, bored, her feet resting on the desk, the slow trickle of patients that came in, waited, and left. They left all of us behind, their needs having been met, and then returned. I couldn¡¯t see the sun from here and wondered if it was even still up. Was it nighttime now? Or had it only been a few minutes.


    My eyes were dry and puffy from sitting there, busying myself by half listening to the wallscreen and simultaneously. The wallscreen was set to the local channels, which was currently displaying local news. The stories of feel good fluff pieces barely held my attention, the happy stories of local businesses doing well, of citizens who had recently achieved something, or whatever. I could barely focus, but it was als the only thing I could distract myself with. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Then, it changed to news for the city at large, which of course was focused on the [cabinet murders[. They listed the victims names, a growing list, and paid respect to their families and friends. The list was entirely of nobility by some way or another, but they all varied in physical appearance and habits. This serial killer, as it must be, was clearly motivated politically, theorized the reporters. The killer had only targeted [lords], that being the only connecting characteristic between the victims. A detective was being interviewed next, and they said what we all had known for the last several months this had been happening, which was that the police had little to no idea who was behind all of this.


    Apparently, this killer was pretty sophisticated, and very good at what they do, which didn¡¯t bode well for the nobility if they continued at this frenetic pace. The detective anticipated a hopeful upturn in evidence with the new stop and search law, though, assuming that somebody somewhere had to know something. That logic made sense, but I couldn¡¯t help but think about Mea and her concern. She felt that the Nari¡¯e were surely going to be taken advantage of, but could¡¯t she understand that we were dying here? The innocent wouldn¡¯t be harmed, and so what was the issue here, really? We needed to catch this killer, this fiend, and our safety depended on it happening sooner rather than later. Who knew when they would strike again?


    I sighed, the detective''s voice droning on about his hopes for the stop and search law, that they already have secured several criminals with warrants already, even though it¡¯s only been a short time. They hadn¡¯t been connected to the [cabinet killer], of course, but a few more criminals off the street was definitely a good thing. I remembered the strings I had to pull to get Pa¡¯ani, the child of Ha¡¯ana, out of jail, and wondered if any of the others had been so lucky. Somehow, I doubted it. They were probably in jail, serving their time as I sat here, serving mine.


    A doctor entered the waiting room, his head turning this way and that, looking for someone. Immediately, he had our attention; Cerise¡¯s eyes were glued to him, anticipating something, anything.


    ¡°Montgomery?¡± he finally said, his gaze settling on us.


    At this point, there were only a few in the waiting room aside from us, and our name was a well known one. If the doctor didn''t recognize the name, he was being polite and not assuming. I glanced around; we were much better dressed, even in casual wear, than the other few occupants.


    ¡°That¡¯s us,¡± I said finally, standing up on stiff knees. My body ached from the uncomfortable seat we had been stuck in; you would think a room designed for waiting would be more comfortable, but we weren¡¯t so lucky. The chair was hard plastic, covered in a harsh, cheap upholstery, underneath it a thin layer of foam pretending to be a cushion.


    The doctor gestured to us come closer; however long it had been sitting in this room had stunted our speed, and we ambled over to him as quickly as we could. The doctor led us to a hallway out of earshot of the regular patients, which I hoped was good news. I would take whatever I could get at this point. I just needed to know.


    We stood, our breaths held. The doctor looked both bored and grim at the same time. I guess this was something he did every day ¨C a normal evening, for him.


    ¡°Ralen has survived his surgery.¡±


    We all sighed in relief, but the doctor still looked grim. Was it perhaps just his face?


    ¡°He¡¯s asleep for now, but he¡¯s in recovery. You¡¯ll be allowed to see him soon. But it¡¯s a rough road ahead.¡±


    I had never gotten the full story of what had happened, only small sentences from Cerise¡¯s shocked brain. ¡°Doctor, what happened?¡±


    He looked me sharply in the eyes. ¡°He had a heart attack. Your mother discovered him, but it was too late. We had to perform coronary artery bypass graft surgery. Fortunately, he survived it.¡±


    I flicked my eyes to Cerise, who was staring down at her fingers, entwined within themselves, twisting them every which way. How long had he laid there, suffering, before she noticed? Was it an unfortunate mistake, a lapse in judgment where she had left him alone for too long, or was it something more¡­nefarious?


    I remembered our conversation when she had effectively advised me to keep an open mind to Alyss. She had reminded me that we all must make sacrifices in life, alluding to the fact that she had made sacrifices in hers. Was being married to my father really so awful that she just let him nearly die? Was this her fault?


    ¡°Before you go visit him, remember, everything from here on out must be low stress. I emphasize, low stress. Do not antagonize him. His heart simply is on its last legs.¡± The doctor began to walk away, and grabbed a nurse, pointing him towards us.


    The nurse approached, his scrubs a cheerful yellow. ¡°Follow me, everyone,¡± he said, a smile pasted on his face.


    Like ducks behind their mother, we followed to what must be my father¡¯s room. I didn¡¯t know what I would find there, but I knew there was one thing that I had to do. I had to keep my secret, because if he found out that I¡¯d turned down AUT for some girl, he would be dead for sure.

 Nineteen

    The door was ajar, soft light from a bedside lamp spilling in, clashing with the bright lights of the hallway in which we stood. None of us were brave enough to be the first to enter, apparently, and the nurse cleared his throat. I startled; Cerise jumped a little, too, and stepped foot inside the door.


    Sheen pulled me back before I could follow to whisper in my ear. ¡°I¡¯ll let you guys have some time,¡± he said, a wise concern in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll be back tomorrow.¡±


    I nodded, appreciating his ability to understand that this was a very private moment. Though he was almost like family, my oldest, closest friend, this isn''t something you shared with anyone you didn¡¯ have to, especially anyone not of blood relation. This was a Montgomery matter, and he knew it. I swallowed hard, futilely preparing myself for something one can never be prepared for.


    He lay there in the bed, his hands above the thin, starched white covers, his face pale and drawn, propped up against several pillows. The lamplight created shadows in his face that I¡¯d never seen before ¨C or maybe, those sharp angles were just there, now, a part of him. He wore scrubs similar to the nurse who had brought us in, though his were a pale blue, soothing, blending into the background.


    There was a small, thin cushioned couch next to the bed, up against a wall with a window that spanned the entire space from floor to ceiling. Below, the city beckoned, glittering cheerfully with a mirth I did not feel. It was as if the city itself was mocking us. Irrationally, I scowled at it, crossing my arms across my chest.


    The nurse spoke up. ¡°You can wait here until he wakes up, should be any time now.¡±


    We didn¡¯t answer. Instead, Cerise found a chair that had been tucked away in the corner, and drew it up next to the bed. She settled into it, crossing her leg over the other, and leaned to watch Ralen. Her eyes flicked to his mouth and his chest, watching him breathe.


    I took the couch by the window, turning my back to the view below. I didn¡¯t want to see it, not now. The void beckoned, the lights teased, all of it felt surreal. This couldn¡¯t be happening, not now, not to me. I stared at my father, the Lord Montgomery. He looked like a ghost made corporeal, the sheets sticking to his skin. I shivered.


    A few minutes passed like this, the uneasy silence between Cerise and I growing and growing. I watched her watch his breathing, her anxiety never ceasing, her eyes always sharp, her brows narrowed as she looked on. She looked so concerned, it made me wonder if she was always this good of an actress. Was this her fault? Had she purposefully withheld help from my father so that he might not survive? I couldn¡¯t hold back the suspicions from growing, they festsered in my mind as we sat there, silent.


    I shuffled in my seat on the couch, discomfort edging its way into every sense. My legs were stiff, my left knee was suddenly screaming and had to be stretched, my nose itched, and my eye started to twitch. I could feel a headache coming on, the culmination of all this stress and the length of the day evolving into a migraine from hell.


    ¡°I turned down Aruga Tech,¡± I blurted out to Cerise.


    She jolted up, sitting straight in her seat. ¡°What?¡±


    I blinked, pressing the indent under my eyebrows to try and ease the pain of my upcoming headache. Oh, why had I said that out loud? It was a secret that had been eating away at me, especially that I knew my father couldn¡¯t find out this way, but why had it come out of my mouth? I glanced at my father; fortunately, he still seemed to be asleep. I hoped he hadn¡¯t heard what my traitorous mouth had said.


    Cerise stared at me intently. ¡°He cannot know. Not now. Not like this.¡±


    I nodded, but slowly, still pressing on my brow bone. ¡°I know.¡± I pressed harder, the headache still not receding. ¡°He can¡¯t find out from anyone else.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She nodded at me, too, her eyes still evaluating as she lifted her head up and down. Oh, fuck me, I wish I hadn¡¯t said it, but I couldn¡¯t deny the fact that speaking those words aloud, sharing that burden with literally any one else had lightened the load the slightest bit. I¡¯d told Sheen, sure, but he wasn¡¯t in much of a position to help me. At least Cerise maybe could.


    Unless she really had instigated his episode that landed him here in the hospital. I gulped, my head throbbing again. If that was true, I¡¯d really messed up. I pushed away that thought with effort, the intensity of the pain wavering and growing, then receding. I suppose it was too late for me to worry about that. For now, I needed some water.


    I stood to go find a drinking fountain, a vending machine, a local pond, anything, when I heard a rustle from the sheets.


    Instantly Cerise bolted back to the chair, leaning so far forward she might as well have been laying on the bed with him.


    He opened his eyes.


    Headache suddenly forgotten; I was frozen to the spot. Thank the stars above, he was awake. He blinked his eyes open, the piercing blue that mirrored my own blurred and unclear.


    ¡°Torven?¡± he whispered, the word barely a croak from his dry lips, which he licked. ¡°Cerise?¡±


    Cerise pressed her hand on top of his fingers. ¡°We¡¯re here for you.¡±


    Still a statue in the middle of the room, I was barely processing what was happening. My father¡¯s eyes were on me, beckoning. I understood what he wanted from me without asking, which was fortunate; it seemed that he was having trouble gathering energy to speak. I couldn¡¯t blame him. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to do much else besides lay in bed after the night he¡¯d had.


    I sat back on the couch, seated just on the edge, close enough to touch the bed, but refraining from becoming too close. I didn¡¯t want to overwhelm him, but I was sure I would be able to hear him just fine.


    ¡°Question,¡± he whispered, his eyes on me,


    ¡°Anything.¡±


    ¡°Do you¡­ still want to be PM? To¡­ change the world?¡±


    I paused. The first thing he asked about was what was my future? There was no way that he knew I¡¯d denied the deal with Aruga Tech, right? As far as he knew, that was the only way I¡¯d even have a chance at being Prime Minister before the next election, if that. As I¡¯d declined, I knew I didn¡¯t have a chance until the following one, which wouldn¡¯t be for ten years after this new PM is elected. Was he that determined to see me as PM? He would have to relinquish his [lordship] first, officially. Puzzled, I never answered.


    ¡°I want to see you achieve your dreams, Torven,¡± he whispered quickly, his voice nearly lost. ¡°I need it. I know¡­ I don¡¯t have much time, now.¡±


    My heart was breaking. My father was giving up. To see him this weak, this broken, and accept it? I couldn¡¯t handle it. My throat tightened, the effort of holding in tears painful. My eyes swelled, the moisture welling up within them. I ddnt¡¯ want to allow those droplets to fall, but I didn¡¯t think I had the option anymore.


    ¡°I¡­ officially name you Lord Montgomery,¡± he said proudly. ¡°Go forth with bravery and pride, son.¡±


    I lost against that salty water, the tears finally dripping down my cheeks. They made their way, like lost children, down the path of skin and falling onto my hands below. I pressed my face into them, my headache returning in full force, the tears no longer able to be suppressed. I had disappointed him, so, so much. He had relinquished his title to me, here and now, in this depressing hospital room. :It was supposed to be a ceremony, an official honor, one witnessed by family and friends, not this dreadful, hopeless affair.


    There was no way I could tell him now, not with what could be his last breaths emitting from his lips. If they weren¡¯t, he clearly thought they were, enough to bestow this honor and responsibility on me without the proper ado it normally would have. I would have to know that during his last days, his dying wish would be for me to succeed, while I held back the knowledge that I had squandered his gift to me, right before his eyes, just before he gave me the world.


    I was the worst piece of shit on the planet.


    I sniffled, gathering myself enough to look back up at my father. He looked even more exhausted than before, the sadness on his face overshadowed by the obvious look of peace; he had accepted his responsibilities, felt that he had passed on enough knowledge to feel as if he had continued his legacy in me.


    ¡°Thank¡­thank you, father,¡± I finally managed to say. I caught Cerise eyeing me carefully from across the bed. ¡°I accept this honor and vow to pledge myself to the success of Aruga and the line Montgomery.¡±


    I never pictured myself saying those official words in the dinginess of a hospital room, instead of an elaborate, luxurious event hall, but it was no less official. I was now Lord Montgomery, representative of the Montgomery estate and region.


    I couldn¡¯t take anymore. I fled from the room, haphazard, leaving them behind in a wake of distress and tension.

 Twenty

    A week later


    It had been some time since I¡¯d accepted the honor and responsibility of the Montgomery lordship. My father still was recovering in the hospital, and I had returned to work. I found peace in the monotonous business of employment, taking solace in the tedious efforts I put forth, keeping things afloat. It was satisfying to start a project, make progress, and maybe even finish it. I was enjoying it, to say the least.


    Though, every time I felt a sense of enjoyment or contentment, the dread and guilt soon followed. I was only here, doing this work, because of my father¡¯s illness. It was as if I wasn¡¯t allowed to enjoy the privileges I had because of the way I had gotten there. I hadn¡¯t anticipated feeling so lost, now that I¡¯d assumed his role. I was still lucky, though. My father often called me, as he was still able to from the hospital, and gave me advice and guidance, as if he were in the office with me. Of course, I always kept the subject matter light, never allowing the stress of the day to day life infiltrate through our conversations. I always got the sense that he enjoyed our talks though, and I wondered if they brought back some sense of normalcy to him. He had always been doing this work, for years and years, and it probably was more stressful for him not to be working. At least, I hoped. I lived in constant fear of upsetting him and jeopardizing his health.


    The fear of his discovery of my secret waned as the time passed. Granted, it hadn¡¯t been long, and the fear was still fresh, but with each passing day, it weakened. If he hadn''t found out by now, then maybe he never would. And then, when he came home from the hospital, I could tell him. Over dinner. And several glasses of wine.


    I remembered what he had said to me when he first woke up. The very first thing he had to make sure he spoke aloud before anything else? Ensuring I still was going to be Prime Minister. A part of me wondered if his entire will to live, his determination to survive, was based on the idea that he might get to see me become Prime Minister. I gulped. The odds that he had more than ten years left weren¡¯t great, and I only wished I could fulfill this dream for him. I wanted to give him that more than anything in the world ¨C and I wanted to become PRime Minister for myself, too ¨C but I had turned down this deal of a lifetime. FGranted, it came with some strings, but what didn''t?


    Every time I spoke with my father, either on the WaComm or in person, I wondered if I¡¯d made the right call, denying them. Should I really have burned that bridge? Could I live with disappointing my father like that, knowing he would never see me even get the chance to become PRime Minister? Because even if I was able to campaign at the next election, more than a decade from now, how likely is it that he would be there to know? Would it be enough for me to trade my father¡¯s love for a woman I barely knew?


    The guilt grew and grew inside of me. I spent my evenings at the hospital, spending time with my father, making the most of things. Sometimes I¡¯d bring him dinner, always approved by the nurses first, and eat it with him. I was planning on doing that today, after I finished up at the office here.


    I sat at my desk, eyeing the time on my wallscreen. I wasn¡¯t quite yet ready to leave, but I was anxious to. I still had a lot of work to accomplish, but my father had expressly wished to speak to me this evening. He had told me the night before to bring dinner, and that he had something he wanted to talk to me about. He didn¡¯t mention what it was though; I only hoped it was something of little consequence. I couldn¡¯t handle much more drama at the moment.


    My WaComm clicked, notifying me of an incoming message. I checked it to see who it was.


    Alyss?


    Surprised, I answered.


    She greeted me with her soft, honey voice. ¡°Hello Torven, this is Alyss,¡± she said. ¡°How are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Uh, I¡¯m fine,¡± I said. This was the first time I¡¯d spoken to her since I¡¯d denied her father the deal, and consequently, her. ¡°Yourself?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m well, thank you. I, er, heard about your father. My sympathies ¨C and I wish for a speedy recovery.¡±


    ¡°Um, thank you,¡± I said, still puzzled. Why was she calling me? Just to pass on her well wishes? ¡°I¡¯ll tell him.¡± If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    She paused before speaking again. ¡°Torven, may I ask something of you?¡±


    Here we go ¨C the real reason for the call. I braced myself, preparing for what, I didn¡¯t know. ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°I would like to see you in person, sometime soon. As friends, I promise. Would you mind meeting me for dinner?¡±


    I blinked. She wanted to see me? What was it she had to talk to me about in person that she couldn¡¯t¡¯ do over the WaComm? ¡°Uh, okay,¡± I agreed.


    Was it a smart move to agree to see her? Probably not. Was I dying to know what she had to say? Absolutely.


    ¡°Alright then. How about tomorrow, seven ¡®o¡¯ clock?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°Wanna go to the Watercrest?¡±


    The WAtercrest was a five-star restaurant in the middle of the city center, comprising an entire three floors in one of the tallest skyscrapers, overlooking the entire city. It was a place that a lord should go for dinner, and a place that Alyss deserved to be treated with. And, in going to a restaurant as prestigious as this, ensured that Alyss will be on her best behavior. I didn¡¯t know what she was going to tell me, but if she was planning on making a scene, I hoped this would be enough to deter her.


    ¡°Oh, sounds lovely,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll see you there.¡±


    The call ended, leaving me bewildered and intrigued.


    ~


    I arrived at my father¡¯s hospital room not long after, dinner from a local restaurant with approved items in hand. The bag was heavy, my arm a little sore from carrying it all the way from the car and through the hospital. I knocked on his door before opening it.


    ¡°Hey, my son¡¯s here,¡± he said, actively on a call. ¡°I¡¯ll call you later.¡± He ended it, pressing the WaComm down onto the bedside table next to him.


    He looked much better with each day, though he still looked as if death had warmed over.


    ¡°Who was that?¡± I asked. ¡°Work?¡±


    ¡°The machine never stops, Torven, you know that,¡± he said. ¡°It was [VP]. Wanted to know some last minute details about a report. I took care of it.¡±


    ¡°You really should let me do that kind of thing,¡± I said, placing the bag on the table next to him, getting it ready for us to eat. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be resting. I can take care of it.¡±


    ¡°I know that,¡± he said, reaching for a fork I¡¯d brought. ¡°But I still like to feel useful once in a while.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡± I retrieved each of our meals from the bag, carefully placing them in front of us. ¡°You¡¯ve never stopped.¡±


    Ralen smiled; the ease of our banter was something I¡¯d never quite experienced with him before. He was always all business, even when he spoke to me, before his health problems. I¡¯d always wondered if he truly cared for me, when I was younger, and now it seemed he was trying to make up for lost time. I¡¯d never resented him for the lack of affectionate and kind words, growing up, because it was all I¡¯d ever known. All my friends¡¯ fathers were like that too; it seemed to be something about being a [lord]. People except the highest of propriety from you at all times, even towards your children. It was almost odd to see him like this, though I must admit I had been truly enjoying his company. He was like an entirely different man, I thought. Where before he had been stern with high expectations, now he was excited for the possibility of my future. It was as if all of his hard work had paid off, and now he was enjoying the ride. Of course, he was living through me and my hard work, but Didn¡¯t mind.


    ¡°So, what did you want to talk to me about?¡± I asked, the topic that had been on my mind all day.


    He took a bite, chewing it thoughtfully and intentionally before answering. ¡°I wanted to congratulate you, son. I know I don¡¯t say it enough, but I¡¯m proud of you.¡±


    ¡°Proud of me?¡± I said, shocked. If he had said that to me much before, it was never the amount of compassion and love that I was hearing from his voice. ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°For putting your personal life aside to sacrifice for the greater good. For understanding what¡¯s best for Aruga. Following through with the deal I helped forge with Aruga United Tech. I know it¡¯s a lot to ask of a young man, just on the cusp of the rest of his life¡­ but I trust in you. I believe in you. I know you¡¯ll always do what''s right.¡±


    I was speechless. He continued to speak, while I sat there, silent. Each word was like a stab, each sentence a bleeding wound he unknowingly inflicted on me, each syllable a slice in the form of a well-intentioned compliment.


    ¡°¡­all I¡¯ve ever wanted is to see my son become Prime Minister, like I never could. And now, with all of the work we both have put in, it¡¯ll be within reach. I¡¯d given up a lot to pull this together, you know. Used a lot of favors, pulled a lot of strings. But it¡¯s all been worth it.¡±


    I blinked, my mouth falling open. I¡¯d forgotten I was supposed to be eating, forgot everything except the guilt that threatened overflow inside of me. I was the worst son on the planet.


    He looked up at me, his eyes welling up with pride, his smile barely concealed. ¡°Son, I¡¯ve been waiting for this for years. I know I don¡¯t have much time left ¨C don¡¯t bother to tell me otherwise ¨C and I¡¯m glad it¡¯s happening now. At the risk of sounding dramatic, it¡¯s my last wish for you.¡±


    Well, fuck.

 Twenty One

    I laid down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. What was I going to do? Last night, my father had pretty much confessed that seeing me become Prime Minister was his dying wish. What kind of person throws away their father¡¯s dying wish? The ceiling wasn¡¯t giving me answers. Bastard.


    I rolled over, noticing my WaComm on the bedside table. I picked it up and put it on, the heat of my skin powering it up. I had a message.


    Want to meet me for breakfast?


    It was Mea. Oh god, I wanted to. There was nothing I wanted more. The last time I¡¯d seen her, I decided I wanted to ask her to become my girlfriend, to even give her an expensive gift of a new WaComm. Life had become complicated as of late, though, and I hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to see her since then or do any sort of planning for that. I wanted to make her mine so badly, but I didn¡¯t know if I could go through with it. Not when my father was telling me what he had been.


    Sure. Same caf¨¦?


    Dumbass. Why did I reply? I should cut myself off from her, pretend we¡¯d never met. Maybe then I¡¯d be able to live with myself if my father left this world.


    See you in an hour


    Fuck. She was a spider, and I was the fly caught in her web. I¡¯m so stupid. What kind of idiot lets himself be trapped like this? She was drawing me in, and I had no escape. I just wanted to know if being with her would be worth throwing all of this away. I had to know.


    ~


    Apprehensive, I entered that same caf¨¦ where we¡¯d met for breakfast all that time ago. I remembered how she had shared a snippet of her culture with  me, how afterwards, we¡¯d started a protest together. It made me realize while I had heard about the struggles of the Nari¡¯e, I really hadn¡¯t seen it before. As someone who never had to experience those problems, it was easy enough to push them away. They didn¡¯t directly affect me, so I never thought about it too much. Mea opened my eyes to that, at least, and now I knew it was something I ahd to fix. Again, the memory reinforced how much I needed to be Prime Minister, someday. I needed to fix this for Mea, for everyone. Injustice couldn¡¯t be tolerated.


    She hadn¡¯t gotten here yet, but I was a few minutes early. I couldn¡¯t wait the full hour, knowing it would only take a few minutes to get there by car, so I ended up arriving nearly twenty minutes too early. But that was alright; I would order us some Kinipopo, the drink we had that first time we¡¯d met here. I hoped she¡¯d appreciate the gesture that I remembered. Though, truth be told, it was the only thing on the menu I recognized. The Nari¡¯e language was so flowery and beautiful, but I knew none of it.


    I sat down with my drink, warm in my hand. Was it so strange that I had never learned any of the language? It wasn¡¯t as if I needed to seek out the Anri¡¯e, they were the ones who had sought out refuge here, not the other way around. They should speak Arugan, because we are their host country. It¡¯s their duty to learn our culture, our way of things, if they want to live here, right? I settled in, getting both comfortable and lost in my thoughts. What would I do if I were to be stuck in another country? I wanted to think I would improvise, adapt, overcome, learn the language, and thrive, but deep down I questioned it. Stolen story; please report.


    I wondered if the Nari¡¯e really just wanted their homelands back, or if they would prefer to live here, in Aruga. By now, most of the Nari¡¯e had been born here, lived all their lives here, like Mea. Would they even want to return to their ancestral islands? Even if that natural disaster hadn¡¯t entirely ravaged them, made them unlivable and filled with crazed, nuclear twisted wildlife, would they even want to return? I suppose there was no way I could answer that. I vowed that if I ever became Prime Minister, the best thing I could do was give them the option.


    Feeling rather proud of myself, I didn¡¯t even realize Mea had arrived until I looked up to notice her standing in front of me, a slight smile lifting the curve of her mouth. She wore her hair in braids today, thick twists that just met her shoulders. They were decorated artistically with beads, placed just so. They glistened and sparkled in the light, clearly made of some kind of shiny metal.


    ¡°Hey stranger,¡± she said. ¡°Lost in thought?¡±


    I smiled sheepishly. ¡°Better to be lost in thought than to have none at all, they say.¡±


    ¡°There are worse things,¡± she allowed, sitting down across from me. ¡°Is this mine?¡± She gestured to the drink in front of her, the Kinipopo still steaming.


    ¡°Yep!¡± I said, still pleased with myself. ¡°Kinipopo.¡±


    Her smile grew. ¡°So, how have you been? It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen you.¡±


    My smile faltered. ¡°Erm, not so great I suppose. My dad¡¯s sick. I¡¯m a Lord now.¡± Suddenly, I remembered the gift I had brought along with me. It wasn¡¯t quite the big to-do I¡¯d wanted to be, but I¡¯d bought it for her, and wanted to present it to her. It wasn¡¯t coming with the big question I¡¯d initially intended it for, but that could still come in time. I hadn¡¯t decided yet. I fished the package, delicately wrapped, out from behind me and placed it on the table. ¡°Oh, and I got you this.¡±


    She blinked, surprised. ¡°You got me something? Why?¡±


    I flushed. ¡°For no reason. Cause I could. Cause I wanted to. Just open the damn thing,¡± I said, embarrassment flooding my face. Was this a mistake? Oh, fuck, if it was, it was too late now.


    She picked at the paper that covered the box, her fingers deft and nimble as she unfolded the paper, unsticking the tape and keeping the paper largely intact. As she finally revealed what was inside, she stopped and looked up time.


    ¡°Torven, this is too much,¡± she said, her cheeks reddening. ¡°There¡¯s no way I can accept this.¡±


    ¡°Please, for me.¡± I smiled back at her through the blush. ¡°Now it¡¯ll be easier for us to talk.¡±


    She caressed the box gently, staring at it. ¡°A new WaComm? It¡¯s just¡­ so much. Are you sure?¡±


    As I watched her face, her genuine appreciation and overwhelming sense of gratitude and awe, I knew I was surer than anything in my life. This girl had her hooks in me, and I would do everything I could to keep them there. ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± I answered.


    ¡°If you say so,¡± she said. She lifted the tabs on the box and removed the WaComm from it, turning it this way and that to see it catch the light. ¡°So pretty.¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot¡­¡± I said, watching her as she powered it up, admiring it. ¡°But I feel as if I¡¯ve known you for a long time. You know?¡±


    She looked up at me, smiling. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s strange, isn¡¯t it? We really don¡¯t know much about each other, yet here we are.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to know more about you,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d like to know¡­. Everything.¡±


    She smiled, mischievous now. ¡°Everything about me?


    ¡°And then some.¡±


    She grinned wider, her teeth sparkling. I shivered.


    ¡°Come to my place tonight, and I¡¯ll show you whatever you want.¡±


    I swallowed hard. ¡°Uh, er I have dinner plans, tonight.¡± I cursed myself for making plans with Alyss. ¡°With, uh, my stepmother. Cerise. Mind if I come over after?¡±


    She flicked a braid over her shoulder and leaned in close, elbows placed on the table. Her eyes bored straight into mine. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t keep me waiting, Lord Montgomery.¡±

 Twenty Two

    Mea and I had spent an hour or so together at the cafe, setting up her new WaComm and chatting. I made sure I didn¡¯t pressure her, but I also ensured my contact was saved into her list. It was bliss, being with her. flirting, learning about her, discussing what we thought about things, all while remembering our fiery moments before? Effortless. I couldn¡¯t wait to find out what was in store for me this evening. But, unfortunately, there was business I had to attend to first.


    The thought of Alyss had loomed over me, a dark cloud threatening to storm over the beautiful sunny day that was Mea. I was looking forward to tonight, where I would learn everything about Mea, but first, I had to get through a courtesy dinner. it was the least I could do for her, especially with how things had been left. I had turned down Alyss¡¯s father¡¯s deal, and in turn, I had refused her future as well. She had wanted to marry me and make our own arrangement beneficial to us both. I suppose she could find someone else to fill my role; there would be no shortage of men willing to betroth themselves to her and her position. I still felt bad, though, as we each had been on the cusp of reaching for greatness. Then I¡¯d traded it for love.


    I still soared high on that cloud of love, buzzed and drunk with the thought of Mea, the beautiful, wonderful, strong, Mea Kaika. I came back to my apartment still high on the idea of her and how we might spend our evening together. I could tell her all about how I¡¯d refused the deal of a lifetime - for her - and maybe, just maybe, she would show me just how grateful she is for that. And she should be grateful; I¡¯d thrown it all away just for the chance to get to know her. Fear gnawed me still, though, wondering if I¡¯d made a huge mistake. What if I got to know Mea and she wasn¡¯t who I thought she was? What if there was much more to her, and I didn¡¯t like what else I could see?


    I calmed myself; that was impossible. Mea was upfront, straightforward. What you see is what you get, and I liked what I saw. there should be no harm at all in getting to know her better, and from what I already knew, I should like the rest.


    But whether I had made a mistake or not? The idea plagued me as I readied myself for meeting Alyss at the WAtercrest. My father effectively told me his last wish was to see me as Prime Minister, and there was essentially no way of that happening, now that I¡¯d turned down AUT and Alyss. The thought was heavy on my mind that I¡¯d disappointed my father, especially after how he¡¯d been with me as of late. Now that I was Lord, there were so many more opportunities available to me now. There were a lot more expectations, however, and I hoped I could live up to them. If I didn¡¯t take the proper steps now, my political career would plummet, and I¡¯d be a useless Lord for the rest of my life until I retired to my heir.


    I hoped I hadn¡¯t made a horrible mistake.


    ~


    I rolled up to the Watercrest front entrance in my car, shining amongst others. My feet stepped lightly onto the carpeted outdoor entryway, a footman guiding me to the front door. I adjusted my tie, a staple for dining here. I was wearing a full suit, as well, in order to meet the dress code. A few clicks on my WaComm, and I sent my car to be parked nearby. I wondered if Alyss was here yet.


    And, speaking of the devil, there she was. She climbed out of a bright yellow coupe, wearing a tasteful cocktail dress of a navy blue. It hugged her curves down to her calves, emphasizing the lines of her legs all the way down to her high-heeled feet. She teetered on those knife edge shoes, carefully extricating herself from her vehicle a few feet away from where I had just done the same. She looked up and noticed me, a warm smile lighting up her face.


    ¡°Good to see you,¡± I greeted politely, extending my elbow for her to steady herself. She didn¡¯t look like she needed my additional balance, but with those shoes, I hoped it was at least a helpful gesture.


    Fortunately, she took it, just placing her fingers on the inside of my arm. Not too close, as to speak of romance, but close enough in a friendly touch. This bodes well, I hoped.


    ¡°And you,¡± she said.


    The doorman led us through, immediately recognizing us and leading us to a table straightaway. Though of course, I had called ahead letting him know we would be coming. They had prepared a little table for us, away from the crowd, tucked away in a decadent corner of the restaurant, lit by the chandelier above. It was a lovely view, the rest of the restaurant at our front and a cool, marble wall at our backs. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    We sat at our table as the waiter filled our glasses with a dark red wine. Her eyes flicked up at me nervously as she smoothed the napkin onto her lap. I cleared my throat.


    ¡°So, uh, what is it you wanted to meet about?¡± I asked bluntly. I was dying to know, for one, and I was itching to get home to see Mea. She had promised me the world, after all. As soon as this evening was over, I could get to what I really wanted to be doing.


    ¡°Ah, straight to the point. I¡¯ll be frank as well. First of all, I wanted to offer my sincere congratulations on your recent [Lordship].¡±


    I nodded, raising my full glass of wine at her in a toast, acknowledging her words. I didn¡¯t usually care for wine, and when I did, I preferred a semi sweet white, but this would do. I sipped at it, the wine coating my tongue in a dry, oaky flavor that I didn¡¯t dislike, surprising myself. ¡°If that was all you wanted to say, there was no need to have all of this, too,¡± I gestured around us to the extravagance. ¡°So, I know there¡¯s something else.¡±


    ¡°Astute,¡± she said, sipping her own wine in turn. ¡°I felt that what I wanted to say to you deserved more attention than a passing sentence.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Was this related to how we had left things? I remembered the last time we had seen each other, and.. the night before. My cheeks reddened.


    ¡°I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that I truly understand. I hold no ill will towards you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a relief,¡± I said. I¡¯d been playing it cool up until now, but we were laying our cards on the table. ¡°I had worried you would hate me, after how things ended.¡±


    She smiled sadly. ¡°I¡¯ll admit it¡¯s not what I would have preferred, but again, I understand.¡±


    Was that all? There had to be more to this. I get what she was trying to say, in that this kind of assurance required more than a second or two of attention, but still. This was maybe unnecessary. I lifted my glass to sip at it again,eager for the alcohol to begin to kick in. A thought occurred to me. She probably just wanted to make sure I wasn¡¯t going to become an enemy of hers, or her father¡¯s company. It wouldn¡¯t be uncommon, in our class, for jilted lovers of either side to become vengeful. Now, the evening made sense. She didn¡¯t want things to be harsh between us because I held a unique position of power over her. Even though we hadn''t been engaged, it was clearly public that it had been possible. Hell, the paparazzi had caught wind immediately, catching us on our brunch date the last time we¡¯d seen each other. She was surely just getting ahead of things. A smart move.


    ¡°I know what you want to hear,¡± I said. ¡°And I don¡¯t wish to play games.¡±


    She raised her eyebrows.


    ¡°I have no intentions of ill will against you, or your father¡¯s company, now and in the future. If anything, I hope the same could be said for me, from your end.¡±


    She nodded, accepting our truce. ¡°That is a starting point, [Lord] Montgomery, and our friendship shall begin as such.¡±


    ¡°friendship?¡± I asked. She wanted to be friends, even after I toyed with her, her company, and left her abruptly?


    ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re both powerful people, or at least, you certainly are. I think we get along well enough. Why not friends, allies?¡±


    I mulled it over. It would be impolite to refuse, of course, and her words held merit. Why would I create an enemy when there was no need for one? ¡°Of course. Friends, then.¡±


    She held her glass aloft to toast; I clinked my glass to it, the noise a delightful ringing.


    ¡°To the future we make,¡± she said.


    ¡°Let it be prosperous,¡± I finished, a well known toast and proverb of the [Lord] class. It was something often said at weddings, coronations, and other honorous ceremonies. It was fitting that we said it now.


    The waiter brought out our meals, several courses worth of decadent delicacies, with palette cleansers in between. It was a feast of luxury, fit for Kings. Or Lords. To my surprise, I enjoyed the evening. Conversation with Alyss was as it had been before - delightfully charming, light hearted, and enthusing. Hearing her discuss her schooling reminded me of the passion I had for my education, though I¡¯d used it very little since graduating. It felt like so long ago, already, though it¡¯d only been months. So much has changed since then.


    We only made it three out of five courses when I got the call. I was lifting a heavy fork laden with roast duck to my mouth when I felt the notification chime on my wrist. I paused, mouth open wide, startled. I set the fork down, watching the screen flash.


    ¡°Do you mind if I take this?¡± I said to Alyss.


    She shook her head. ¡°Whatever you need.¡±


    I pressed answer, her voice chiming into my ear.


    ¡°Torven! It¡¯s your father,¡± said Cerise through the WaComm. She sounded out of breath, barely able to form words. My heart sunk somewhere to the region of my toes.


    ¡°What is it? Is he okay?¡± I choked out.


    ¡°He¡¯s - he¡¯s - he¡¯s dead,¡± she sobbed. ¡°You¡­ you have to come.¡±

 Twenty Three

    The hospital looked the same, the nurses running about, the doctors casually greeting each other as they passed from room to room, the cheerful orderlies pushing past carts of dirty linens. I wove in between them all, an urgency pushing me forward that caused me to trip several times, run into a few nurses, and stumble over nothing. I couldn¡¯t get there fast enough; it was as if I was wading through molasses, through water, through anything thicker than air. My body wouldn¡¯t respond correctly, instead, my brain just replayed what I¡¯d heard in Cerise¡¯s voice.


    He¡¯s dead


    My breath came faster and faster, yet shallow. I couldn¡¯t get enough of the air around me. She couldn¡¯t have been right, I must have misheard her. There was no way this was true, it had to be a mistake. Maybe he was just in surgery, maybe he had some issue, but it was impossible that he was dead. Right?


    You have to come


    I stumbled through the hallways, each twist and turn feeling as if it took eternity to pass, though I knew it should only be a handful of minutes to walk there from the entrance. Everyone gave me strange looks as I passed, though I barely noticed them. The ones I did register, I didn¡¯t acknowledge. They had no reason to question me, an orphan.


    I made it to his room. All the general business of the hospital had slowed to a halt, as if the space surrounding these four walls were paused in time. The dust floated in the air, something I never noticed before. It was almost beautiful as it hung in the air ethereally, the light catching it like snow. I stood there, at the threshold, unable to take the next steps.


    I couldn¡¯t look inside. His bed was just out of sight, courtesy of the privacy curtain. It both angered me and pleased me, that I did not know what I would see. It would almost be worse to know, I thought. Though this uncertainty was bound to kill me as well. Cerise had said he was dead - so what was I waiting for? I knew what I would ultimately find.


    I stepped forward.


    The bed was empty, still, the sheets rumpled and out of place, as if he had just gotten up. He could¡¯ve been in the bathroom, or down the hall, walking the pass with the nurses for help as he was often encouraged to do. His absence in the room was palpable, but it felt¡­ temporary. I couldn¡¯t place why. Probably because I hadn¡¯t seen him yet. I didn¡¯t want to. But I did. I had to know, had to see with my own eyes, otherwise, he was just gone. Missing. On a vacation, out for a stroll, stepped out for a bit.


    I approached the bed. I didn¡¯t know what was happening to me, was this real? Was I experiencing this? I turned around and sat down on the bed, smoothing the covers with my hands. My palms felt the cold sheets; however long he¡¯d been gone, it was long enough for the heat to dissipate from this bed. Numb, I stared onwards, occasionally remembering to blink. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Torven?¡± came a soft voice from somewhere near the doorway.


    I blinked, my eyes dry and painful. How long had I been sitting there, staring at nothing? I couldn¡¯t form words. My tongue was stuck to my mouth, and I was caught by surprise. Who was that?


    ¡°It¡¯s me, Alyss,¡± said the voice.


    The body attached to it slid through the doorway, edging the wall. She didn¡¯t want to intrude, it was clear in her body language. Also, I¡¯d entirely forgotten that she¡¯d come along. Everything that had happened since the WaComm call was a bit of a blur.


    Remembering what had happened, I realized I hadn¡¯t seen cerise. Alyss was still here, but Cerise was nowhere to be found. Where was she? Was she with him?


    Alyss approached me, concern and pity in her eyes. It stung, but I could barely process enough to think poorly about it. I would have to deal with what others thought of me later. For now, I was struggling to handle the present and myself. For instance, I¡¯d entirely forgotten how to breathe.


    The air came in strangled pants, my eyes widening. Then, Alyss¡¯ calm fingers brushed my back, soothing, relaxing, grounding me. Slowly, the breath came easier, the air no longer choking me. She had single handedly taken down whatever monster had a hold of my lungs for the moment. I couldn¡¯t look at her.


    Instead, I stared down at my feet.


    Next to them, something glinted. A¡­ WaComm? I leaned over to pick it up.


    It was locked, so I couldn¡¯t see what it had been doing, but it was obviously my father¡¯s WaComm. I recognized it immediately; he had it on him constantly, always communicating with someone from work, or something. What was it doing on the floor, open like that? Had he been using it?


    A chill shuddered through my intestines. Had someone told him something he shouldn¡¯t hear that would antagonize his heart?


    Had he learned of my refusal of AUT?


    Where was Cerise?


    There were too many questions for me to answer right now. I tucked my father¡¯s WaComm into my pocket, a problem for another day, when my brain was less overloaded. Alyss continued her soothing circles on my back, her fingers barely touching me. It was calming, relaxing. My eyes blinked slower and slower.


    Was she about to hypnotize me to sleep? I jerked forward, causing her to jump as well, a reaction I instantly felt guilty for. That, and guilty for everything else. I felt, dedep down to my core, that my father¡¯s apparent death was my fault.


    Unless.


    I still hadn¡¯t found Cerise. Was she with him now, or was she avoiding this? Was it possible she had a hand in it? Aside from AUT themselves, she was the only other person who knew about my deal with Aruga Tech and how I¡¯d refused their help, effectively tanking my father¡¯s dream for me. Had she staged a call for him to find out, knowing it would be detrimental to his health? Was life with him really so horrible that she had to take matters into her own hands?


    It was the only explanation that made sense. She had told me as much herself that marrying my father wasn¡¯t her first choice, or any choice. She¡¯d called it a sacrifice, even. Maybe she¡¯d reached her breaking point. I grit my teeth, suddenly feeling the weight of my father¡¯s WaComm in my pocket. It was the only evidence I even had, to either confirm or deny this theory.


    It had to be somebody¡¯s fault, and if it wasn¡¯t her fault? Then it was mine.

 Twenty Four

    I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling. I hadn¡¯t been able to sleep for hours, instead, only capable of lying still, overwhelmed, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. I hadn¡¯t had the capability to talk to anyone, outside of dropping Alyss off at her apartment before coming home, and sending a text to Mea that just said


    I¡¯m sorry


    I couldn¡¯t do much else. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep, some sort of restless slumber akin to just closing my eyes for a mere second, because the next thing I knew, it was the following morning. Nearing afternoon, even. It had been nothing except a late night.


    My eyes, puffy and dry, ached. I remembered I hadn¡¯t eaten since yesterday at the restaurant, and now it was almost three pm. I should probably eat something, but my stomach roiled at the thought. I couldn¡¯t do anything except sit there and stew, and acknowledge the fact that either I was indirectly responsible for my father¡¯s death, or my stepmother was. Neither answer was much of an answer at all.


    I rolled over in my bed, blinking. My brain was at war, screaming at myself to move, to get out of the bed and do something, anything, while the other half screamed back, shouting that all we wanted to do was curl up into a ball so tight, we no longer existed. It was such an attractive thought, not existing. I wouldn''t have to deal with this overload, this overwhelming sense of grief and shock, this guilt. I didn¡¯t know what to do with it.


    Suddenly, the side pushing me to get up won, and I tumbled out of bed. I guess I should make coffee. But the thought of doing anything loomed over me, intimidating, simply too much energy required to do something so complex. Instead, I traipsed over the couch in the living room, and plopped down onto it. I tossed my head back against the cushions, my eyes swollen again.


    I realized I hadn¡¯t cried yet. It still didn¡¯t feel real. When I woke up, there was a moment of bliss beforeI realized what had happened the night before. I hadn¡¯t even seen my father yet. There was still plausible deniability, but my gut told me something I didn¡¯t want to admit. It was true. He was dead. I just couldn''t wrap my head around that just yet.


    If I went to see my father, that would confirm my worst fears. Even though at my core, I already knew them. But if I didn¡¯t go see my father, what kind of son was I? I would continue to live in this uncertainty, this purgatory. I turned on the wallscreen, eager to dull out any and every sense, drown it in the overload of useless information.


    A few hours went by, or maybe days. I had no way of knowing, and no molecule of me could be bothered to care. My eyes were still dry and red, but they had never even begun to improve since I''d come home from the hospital. I was beginning to think this would be their permanent state. My wrist vibrated, which confused me. What the hell was that? I lifted my wrist in front of my face, investigating.


    Ah, stupid. That¡¯s my WaComm. I rarely had it on that signal, but it was fortunate that it was. It looked like Sheen was trying to get a hold of me. Numbly, I answered.


    ¡°Hey, bro, you doing okay?¡±


    I blinked. How the fuck am I stupposed to answer that?


    ¡°I know, stupid question. Sorry. Mind if I come over? I¡¯ve got all this extra food.¡±


    He was being nice, being a good friend. Obviously he¡¯d heard the news - everyone in the country would know by now. The mention of food awoke in me the hunger that had been lying dormant all day. ¡°Oh, uh. Yeah sure. That¡¯s probably a good idea.¡± I finally managed to say.


    ¡°Good cause I¡¯m at your apartment. See you in a sec.¡±


    The next thing I knew, Sheen was at my door. I was able to pull myself off of the couch, a feat much more difficult than I¡¯d anticipated, and answered the door, letting him in. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    He was carrying a large bag of something that smelled fried and delicious. The bag steamed, the grease sinking through the paper in his hands.


    ¡°Shit, this is heavy,¡± he said, setting the food down unceremoniously on the counter. ¡°Help me eat this.¡±


    The rest of our meal was in silence. I devoured the fried pork that he had brought so quickly, that we never had a chance to speak. Whenever my mouth was open, it was to fill it with fried, crunchy goodness.


    Eventually, my stomach protested. I took another bite, however, to my immediate regret. We sat at the counter bar, our fingers coated in oils and grease, the mess of sauces everywhere else. I sighed, heavily and happily. For a moment, all I could think of were these delicacies, and it was a wondrous retreat from reality. I felt so grateful that Sheen was there.


    My eyes flicked over to the end of the counter, where a glass bowl sat nondescript. Inside it was my father¡¯s WaComm. I knew I wanted Sheen to take a look at it, but I had completely forgotten for a while. Of course, now he was here, and I had no excuse.


    ¡°Hey, Sheen, I¡¯ve got a favor to ask of you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Dr. Fisher to you, Montgomery,¡± Sheen said, a wry smile on his face. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    I cleared my throat. ¡°Do you think you could hack something for me?¡±


    He raised his eyebrows and set down his last morsel of fried pork. ¡°Oh, we¡¯re doing that again, are we? What, your girl give you the slip?¡±


    My eyes pleaded with him; immediately, I think he saw how desperate this moment was, because he turned serious as soon as I looked at him.


    ¡°Oh. Um, maybe. I need more information. Like, what am I hacking? And why?¡± He swallowed hard. ¡°Perhaps even a who?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯d like you to find out.¡± I got up to grab the WaComm from the bowl, only a few feet away from us. ¡°This is my father¡¯s. I need you to find out who he last spoke with.¡±


    Sheen took the WaComm carefully, as if his fingers might damage the WaComm. He turned it over in his hands, examining it. ¡°You want me¡­ to hack your father¡¯s WaComm¡­ a cabinet member? To see who he was chatting with?¡±


    ¡°I think he might have been on the WaComm when¡­ when it happened. I need to know who.¡±


    Sheen licked his lips. ¡°I see. Well, we have one big problem, first. His WaComm is encrypted beyond belief. It¡¯s going to take a lot of firepower to get into it to begin with.¡±


    ¡°But you can do it?¡±


    ¡°I can do it. It¡¯ll take a while, though.¡±


    ¡°...How long is a while?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know man, I won¡¯t know until I get neck deep into it. But maybe a couple months? Or less. Don¡¯t know. But... that¡¯s not even the worst of it, buddy.¡±


    I stared down at him, my future sanity hanging in the balance of his next words.


    ¡°once I get in, I assume whoever he may have been talking to, probably had stupid crazy encryption on their ID. I would. And that¡¯ll probably take another few months to crack, minimum.¡±


    I sighed. Of course, I should have known. Cybersecurity - even though it was a specialty of Sheen, was a time consuming effort. And whoever my father was talking to, wouldn¡¯t want to be identified. On top of that, I knew how encrypted his WaComm was. Hell, he was my father. I knew exactly what he did for a living, quite intimately.


    Maybe I could help crack the WaComm, at least.


    ¡°Sheen, if you knew his password¡­?¡±


    Sheen blinked at me. ¡°Well, yeah I guess. It¡¯s a bit more complicated than that, though. Looks like a bio sensor or something. Several layers worth, probably. It¡¯s not just a passphrase, although that¡¯s probably a part of it. I¡¯ll take a look and let you know dude. That¡¯s all I got.¡±


    I suppose it would have to be enough. I couldn¡¯t risk going to the police, not with the culprit either being my stepmother, or god forbid anyone else in the cabinet. Until I knew more, I would have to keep it to myself. ourselves, I suppose, as I was involving Sheen. But I knew he would be discreet. I could count on him.


    ¡°Do you have an idea of what you¡¯re looking for? Or rather, who?¡± Sheen asked.


    I chewed my lip before answering. ¡°Yeah. I do.¡±


    Sheen nodded, rocking his head back and forth as he did so. ¡°Right. Don¡¯t wanna ruin the surprise. Alright, keep your secrets.¡±


    Though I knew I could trust Sheen, I didn¡¯t want to give the theories in my head more weight by speaking them aloud. And if it was Cerise, then she was craftier than I thought. I would have to be careful around her, and everyone else. I couldn¡¯t afford to be this numb, useless grief-stricken thing. I would have to pull out of it, at least enough to function and plan. My survival might depend on it.

 Twenty Five

    It wasn¡¯t raining, like you often see in vids when the tragic backstory of the hero comes to life. If this was a vid, like the kind I used to watch when I was younger, still in awe by the large wallscreen I¡¯d been allowed to use, then the rain would come down in huge droplets, each attendee sporting identical black umbrellas, all garbed in serious black clothing. The women would wear tiny hats, with various plumage attached - all black, of course - and the men wore suits, put together just enough to convince everyone else they were fine. Then there¡¯d be the hero, the protagonist, witnessing this whole ceremony with grace and composure. There might even be a woman comforting him, helping him shoulder his burdens.


    but this wasn¡¯t a vid. Unfortunately, this was real. So, very real. Everyone was dressed in white, as pure white as it gets, as standard for a social elite funeral. Those not included in the nobility class had to wear black, like in most vids. And it wasn¡¯t raining, it was a bright, beautiful sunny day, the crisp air of fall starting to set in. It was like the weather didn¡¯t get the memo that this was a sad occasion, and instead, was happy and warm where it had no right to be. The sun blinded me, reflecting off of all these white clothes, the white burial shroud, the large group that followed the ceremonial farewell.


    I peeked up to see who was there, who would be pretending they knew my father the best. It happened with every funeral of a [Lord] - those that didn¡¯t know him would take the opportunity to pretend they had, to make connections to jump and climb the social ladder, while those who actually knew him would jump even further. And now, I was a target of this brown-nosing, as his son and the new Lord Montgomery. I sighed, finding a seat in the front row, ready to listen to the orator and get this over with.


    It was always a grand affair, the funeral of a prestigious Lord, and this wouldn¡¯t be over for a few hours yet. Not to mention, the family was generally expected to host and receive the guests afterwards. It was a well intentioned tradition, to allow the family to bring their closest friends home to lean on after a stressful and emotional day, but again, with my father¡¯s status came more sleazy leeches, just trying to get ahead. There wasn¡¯t much to look forward to. I wished Mea was here. She would at least make me smile, remember that the sun had some reason to shine.


    Robert Chetland was there, the Prime Minister, along with his Vice Prime. He looked somber and serious, but he was also speaking to another member of the cabinet. I sincerely doubt it was about my father; it was probably another deal in the making, another promise of votes, direction, whatever else politicians talked about. I realized that would be my job for the rest of my life; grubbing for votes, underhanded deals and promises. That''s what I had to look forward to. Fuck.


    I spied Joh and Lip, and as usual, Malley not far behind. I hoped they wouldn¡¯t see me just yet, though I knew it would be inevitable before they came to speak to me. I hadn¡¯t spoken to them in ages now, and I hadn¡¯t missed them much. We never really were close, but we had grown up together in a sense. We were never friends, just agemates. I wished they weren¡¯t such assholes. I wish Sheen was here, too. He was probably my only true friend, one of the few people who never cared about status. He hadn¡¯t come today, though, as he had promised to work on decrypting my father¡¯s WaComm for me. I didn¡¯t feel insulted in the slightest; I preferred that he work on it as much as possible, but I definitely felt his absence. A kind soul would¡¯ve been nice to have around.


    Cerise flit around the guests, greeting and accepting condolences, closely followed by my father¡¯s secretary - well, probably former now - Ms. Wela. As my eyes followed her, I came across Zack BAteman and Jakob Mentel, the leaders of AUT. Alyss wasn¡¯t far behind, keeping her distance from them while still nearby. Cerise approached them, gripped their hands in greeting, and passed on. I narrowed my eyes. Was that a simple greeting, or was there more to it? I needed that proof, and I needed it now. I had to know if Cerise was behind this, just like I suspected. Suddenly, I was even more glad that Sheen hadn¡¯t come, that he was home working on our little project. I knew he would come through sooner or later.


    Eventually, everyone settled into their seats to listen to the orator give the eulogy. It was a load of bullshit, though some of it had some merit. Most of it was an acknowledgement of his status, prolific political career, and respect from the community. He briefly spoke of his family, mentioning me and Cerise, though respectfully didn¡¯t mention my mother. I wonder if Cerise told him not to. I barely listened to the rest, unable to process much more beyond staying awake.


    Finally, it was over.


    The next thing I knew, we were already back at the house. It was as if I¡¯d skipped time, had dissociated so hard that I didn¡¯t even notice the ride back to the mansion. It all felt eerily similar to my graduation party, except nobody was smiling. The array of food and drinks were in the same order, musicians situated in the same way, but the energy was nothing except sadness. Of course, that was appropriate for a funeral reception, but I wondered if it was mostly just a filter of my own brain. Was it really so depressing looking at all of these people without my father, or was I just feeling that way? I suppose it certainly could be a combination of the two. I sighed, picking up a glass of wine from the bar next to me. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I sipped it; it was sour, dry, and white. Ugh, I needed something stronger. I remembered the [Nari¡¯e alcohol] that I had gotten so wasted on all those months ago. Would that I could have some of that right now to erase these brain cells. I didn''t need them, didn¡¯t want them anymore. I wondered what Mea was doing right now?


    Off now in search of some stronger liquor, I nearly bumped into someone¡¯s back.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. Excuse me,¡± I said without really looking up.


    Then I noticed who it was.


    ¡°Ah, Torven. How are you doing, young man?¡± said Zack Bateman, Alyss¡¯ father and president of Aruga United Tech.


    I gulped. ¡°Um. I¡¯ve been better.¡± What kind of thing should I say to him? What does one say to the man whose daughter you refused, and who¡¯s deal of a lifetime you had refused? Again, I wondered if it had been a mistake. My father had wanted this for me, used favors to get this deal, and I¡¯d throw it away for Mea. I didn¡¯t even know if it was worth it.


    ¡°Such a pity, to hear of your father¡¯s death,¡± he said. ¡°He will be missed. Did he pass any wisdom on to you before the end?¡±


    Did he pass wisdom on to me? No, he just gave me the gift he¡¯d been working towards his entire life, and I threw it into the trash. I didn¡¯t get a chance to compose myself before I could answer.


    ¡°I understand he spent most of the last few years attempting to set up your political career. I heard he wanted you to be Prime Minister more than anything in the world. Which is why we were so eager to help you, of course. Are you sure you haven¡¯t changed your mind about our dela?¡±


    ¡°Changed¡­ my mind?¡±


    Was he insinuating that it was still potentially on the table? Was this an opportunity to not disappoint my father from beyond the grave? I felt wary, though. I was sure Alyss was still a part of this, and I still wanted Mea. But¡­ maybe she would understand. If I do this, she and her whole people would benefit. Wasn¡¯t it worth it to save her people and maybe even her islands? What was one individual¡¯s sacrifice for the greater good?


    ¡°Of course, Torven. We¡¯re not unreasonable. The incentives weren¡¯t high enough, we understand. What would you say if not only did we fund your campaign¡­ we would fund your endeavors after being elected?¡±


    That was unprecedented. Usually, once a PM was elected, he had to rely on obtaining votes to fund his plans, which was sometimes hit or miss as to whether it would be accepted by a company, or even sufficient enough to get things done. What Bateman was suggesting would be an almost guaranteed success with whatever I wanted to get done once I was in power. I would be a fool to not accept this. Right?


    ¡°But what¡¯s the catch?¡± I said. There had to be one. You don¡¯t raise just my benefits and not theirs. What more did they want from me?


    ¡°Well, you see, we have to know that you won¡¯t back out this time. We need a promise that¡¯s a bit more permanent.¡±


    ¡°...that¡¯s reasonable, I suppose. What do you suggest?¡¯


    ¡°Marriage.¡±


    I blinked. Well, that was straightforward.


    ¡°As soon as you marry Alyss, we can begin your campaign in earnest. The election is next year, after all. The clock is ticking.¡± He looked up, something catching his attention. ¡°Ah, there¡¯s Jakob now. I need to speak to him. Think about it, Torven.¡±


    He passed me by, as if this had been a casual meet and greet instead of him laying on me the most heavy decision of my life. I knew what I had to do now, though. If I was going to do this, I had to talk to Mea. She was the reason I didn¡¯t accept in the first place, and I had to get her input. If I did this for her, then it would matter what she thought. oF course, I knew deep down that I was going to accept. It was my inevitable destiny, my birthright, to become PRime Minister. When offered an opportunity, a Montgomery seizes it by the teeth, makes it his own. But I needed her to know I was doing this for her, for her people, for her islands. That way, maybe I could still keep her.


    The rest of the hosting passed by in a blur of guests speaking to me, saying ¡®I¡¯m sorry¡¯ more times than I¡¯ve ever heard in my entire life, and endless glasses of the weakest champagne I¡¯ve ever had. It was as if my brain had gone asleep, all higher function barely alive, my body knowing just enough how to breathe, walk, and listen enough to satisfy the strangers in my home without being present. It was a welcome reprieve, at least, to not be in the present. I was in a daze, and it was bliss.


    All too soon, it was just me and Cerise, alone at the house. I suppose it really was just us now, as my father was the only one who would be here in the mansion with us. If he was alive. The mansion felt cold, large, adn empty now, without him. It was an odd feeling.


    ¡°You holding up okay, Torven?¡± she said, surprising me from behind with a cup of steaming hot coffee. ¡°It''s...been a long day.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at her. Her hair was perfect, her makeup impeccable, her clothes a tasteful yet youthful ensemble. How could she be so¡­ put together? It only added to my growing concern about her guilt. She had to be involved in this somehow. After all, who else would know about AUT? I didn¡¯t dare say a word, unless I gave away my theories inadvertently. I didn¡¯t want to play my cards too soon, and I didn¡¯t have any proof just yet. I was still waiting for Sheen to come through.


    ¡°Um, right. I¡¯ll leave you be,¡± she said, leaving the cup on the sofa table behind me. ¡°Just¡­ if you need to talk? I¡¯m here.¡± She walked away, traipsing up the stairs to her reprieve.


    Was she avoiding me? I had barely spoken to her since she had called me. I needed that evidence, and I needed it now.

 Twenty Six

    She was at my door.


    It had been a week or so since the funeral. It felt like it¡¯d been years, it felt like it¡¯d been hours. I couldn¡¯t tell; time was a blur anymore. It was a gray blanket, a dulling cloud over my senses that made everything feel fake. It was like I was seeing everything through a dingy film, my eyes covered by a transparent plastic. But, thankfully, some light was about to come back into my life. Mea was here.


    I jumped up to let her in, excited about something for the first time in weeks. Days? I wasn¡¯t sure. I wanted to see her, to know how to make the right decision. Would her presence sway me just because she was in front of me? How could I knowingly give her up when she was so close? I knew I had to hear her words, her advice, her perspective, if I was to give up whatever we had¡­ for her. She deserved to have an opinion on it, at least.


    I opened the door, awestruck as always. Today, her hair floated at her shoulders, each curling strand in a different direction than the one next to it. She smiled at me coyly, her dark skin glowing in my entryway light.


    She frowned. ¡°You look like shit.¡±


    I frowned back, looking down at myself. I got dressed this morning, hadn¡¯t I? I eyed the pair of comfortable pants I was wearing. Or had that been yesterday? I couldn''t remember when I''d showered last. ¡°Erm, oops. I guess.¡± I sighed. Too late to worry about that tnow. ¡°Come in.¡±


    She stepped inside timidly, eyeing the place carefully. She¡¯d been here before, but she still looked uncomfortable. I didn¡¯t like that. I wanted her to feel like anyplace with me was safe and warm. I wanted that to be true for me, too.


    She watched me as I hurried to pick up a few stray items - a pair of sweats on the couch that I threw in the direction of my bedroom, a handful of takeout boxes sitting on the counter that I tossed into the trash chute, a pair of boxers that I kicked under the table. It would have to do. I sighed. There was no point in beating around the bush; she could see I wasn¡¯t alright. Watching her realize this firsthand was both embarrassing and enlightening. If she really cared about me - and seeing as she hadn¡¯t run away yet, there might be hope for us - then maybe she really would be able to help me now.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot I need to tell you,¡± I said finally. I had given up trying to tidy the place. She had seen the worst of it anyway, watched my futile and haphazard attempt of hiding my obvious failures.


    ¡°I thought so. Shall we sit?¡± She gestured to the couch, making her way there already.


    I could tell she was warming up to the place, easing into this odd environment I¡¯d invited her into. I hoped that was a good sign.


    We sat together in silence. I didn¡¯t know how to start. How does one begin to describe how their life both fell apart and fell together at the same time? How do you ask for advice on marrying another woman you don¡¯t love, from a woman that you very well might?


    I licked my lips. God, I¡¯ve fucked up so badly. How did I even get here?


    She waited patiently. I hoped she understood how strange this was; she seemed to get the importance of her visit. I felt so grateful and so indebted to her presence, I didn¡¯t deserve it. How could I ask this of her?


    ¡°I can¡¯t do this,¡± I said finally, the first words to exit my mouth after several minutes of mute awkwardness. ¡°I can¡¯t ask this of you.¡±


    She stopped me, grabbing my face before I could turn away. She stared directly into my eyes, boring into my soul, her brown depths searing and burning into mine. ¡°Stop. Breathe.¡±


    I obeyed, thoughtless, the only functioning brain cells I had left were devoted to her.


    ¡°Tell me everything. I¡¯ll just listen. Then we decide what we need to do. Okay?¡±


    Dumbly, I nodded. I took a deep breath. ¡°My father died.¡±


    Those weren¡¯t the words I intended to say, but apparently, they had to be. And true to her word, she didn¡¯t say anything, just listened. She leaned in, resting her head on her hand, supporting her bent elbow on her knee as she watched me speak. I found myself telling her every single thing that had happened in my life, ranging from the nagging sensation that my stepmother had a hand in the death of my father, all the way to the inconsequential bad days at work. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°...so I suppose it comes down to this. Can I sacrifice my personal life to fulfill my father¡¯s last dying wish, my life¡¯s work, to become Prime Minister? Can I give up¡­ you?¡±


    She hadn¡¯t moved a muscle in the whole time I¡¯d spilled my guts, every last thought I¡¯d ever had in the last several months, every single thing I¡¯d ever done since I¡¯d met her. She knew it all, now, had seen me at my worst and then some, and still sat there. I hung my head down, staring at my feet. My socks had holes in each foot, one my big toe protruded from, the other foot exposing my pinky.


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what to do with your life,¡± she said.


    Her words sunk me even lower.


    ¡°But neither can your father, dead or alive. You have to make that decision for yourself. Ask yourself this: what do you want? For the long run, for the rest of your life?¡± She studied me closely. ¡°Don¡¯t say me. Don¡¯t you dare say you want me. This is too new to stake the rest of your life on.¡±


    I blinked, looking up to stare at her. She had put so plainly something I refused to see myself. ¡°I want to be Prime Minister,¡± I said, the words spilling from my lips before I could stop them, her trance on me like truth serum.


    As I said the words, I knew they were true, and were more true than anything I¡¯d ever said. What had been torturing me was guilt for desiring this power, this position. I felt it in my bones. I would pay any price, do any deed, if it meant I would succeed at my lifelong dream. But that didn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t feel guilty of my privilege, my actions, the costs I would pay. But what would she say?


    Her eyes flicked between mine. ¡°Then do that.¡±


    ¡°Mea¡­ I can¡¯t have both you and the Ministry¡­¡± I whispered. ¡°And I want both. Why can¡¯t I have both?¡±


    Her eyes narrowed mischievously, her lips teasing into a smile that caused my heart to leap. ¡°Who said you couldn¡¯t?¡±


    I leaned in closer to her, aching for her embrace. She closed the distance between us, her lips a searing heat on my mouth, a gulp of water after months in the desert, a sea breeze on a sunny day. She was everything; my saving grace, my comfort, the port in the storm I was stranded in. I grasped at her like she was the foothold on the mountain I was climbing, like she was the only thing holding me to this earth. She was gravity, she was a vacuum in space, she was a shooting star that burned as it fell. I drank it all in, the sensations overwhelming and making my head light.


    We found comfort in each other, our bodies finding a rhythm built in nature, like two people who had no other purpose. Her breath was hot in my and against my neck, she was the sun, bright and life-giving, blinding in her beauty.


    We had found our way into the bedroom, the lights dim and the shades partially closed, the light filtering through and painting stripes on the floor. I was drained, exhausted, and complete. Laying there with her, after she had saved me, I knew I would never be sane without her.


    ~


    ¡°I accept,¡± I said to Bateman.


    He sat across from me in his office, fingers knit together as he watched me. I had come in first thing in the morning the next day, but somehow, he didn¡¯t even look surprised. He looked pleased, though when he smiled, it never quite reached his eyes.


    ¡°You accept?¡± he questioned, turning around to a filing cabinet behind his desk. He opened the drawer and rummaged around in it.


    ¡°...Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll have no problem signing a contract.¡± He rifled in the drawer, shuffling papers here and there, muttering to himself. ¡°Ah, here it is.¡± A stack of papers thudded onto the desk, the top page fluttering with all the effort. ¡°It¡¯s all standard, I assure you. Just sign.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll have my lawyer look at this first.¡±


    Bateman shrugged. ¡°Sure. But we can¡¯t start until you sign.¡±


    I nodded. I knew the clock was ticking, but it would be stupid to sign this giant packet right now. The Montgomerys had a family lawyer that dealt with things like this; I would have her look at it after this.


    ¡°But before you run off, let¡¯s review the terms. Laymen speak. Yes?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said.


    ¡°First,¡± he pressed on his index finger to count,¡± we fund your campaign.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°Second,¡± he said, pressing on the next finger, ¡°we can fund your ventures after you¡¯re elected.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Third,¡± he said, counting on the ring finger. ¡°You marry Alyss, my daughter. Consider yourselves engaged as soon as you sign, but she deserved a proper proposal. I even have a ring you can use.¡±


    I gulped. ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Alright then. We have a deal, son.¡± He grinned widely as he spoke, extending his hand to shake.


    Swiftly, I took it. Sweeping up the massive stack of papers in my hand, I swirled out of the office, eager to depart. As I stepped further and further away from his office, images of Mea flit through my head. As long as I knew she was mine, I could get through anything. She showed me that.

 Twenty Seven

    The flowers began to wilt on the table, fresh only hours before. The weight of dry air had already begun to twist and soften the light, delicate petals. The elaborate glass vase was out of place on the small table. Light screened through the glass, highlighted a scratch on the wood, a notch on the edge. I rubbed the smoothed edges, sanded down by years of use. Our silverware clinked as we ate, our mouths temporarily engaged instead of speaking.


    ¡°How was your day?¡± Mea asked.


    I looked up at her, suddenly thankful for the mundaneness of our time together this evening. It was almost normal, the two of us eating dinner together. It felt natural, coming home from work to bring her flowers, to see her and share a meal after a long day.


    ¡°Busy,¡± I said. ¡°Tork has been prepping my announcement to run. I guess I have to go on air soon, get some vids out for the screens.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s your campaign manager, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Bateman hired him. Said he¡¯s the best money can buy. I don¡¯t know about all of that, but he seems to know what he¡¯s talking about. Who knows how much he¡¯s billing those poor bastards at Aruga Tech.¡±


    She paused to set her fork down, the metal clinking against the ceramic plate. ¡°When does all of that really start?¡±


    ¡°Well I signed the contract last month,¡± I said. ¡°Lawyers okayed it.¡± I knew that wasn¡¯t what she was asking about. I sighed. ¡°I have to propose tomorrow.¡±


    She nodded slightly, staring down at her food, avoiding my gaze. I hated this.


    ¡°Hey, you know this isn¡¯t what I wanted,¡± I said, trying to reassure her. ¡°You told me you were okay. I¡¯m doing this for you, for your people, for us.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean I have to like it.¡±


    We continued to eat, the awkward silence between us growing. At least the food was delicious, made from scratch traditional Nari¡¯e fare, better than any restaurant I¡¯d ever been to. Mea was a fabulous cook.


    ¡°So, how are you going to do it?¡±


    ¡°What? The proposal?¡±


    She arched an eyebrow at me, as if to doubt my intelligence for even asking. She had a point.


    ¡°Cerise¡­. has it all planned out, I guess. I¡¯m just following the itinerary.¡±


    ¡°Do you trust her?¡±


    I pushed my tongue against my teeth, thinking about the answer to that question. Did I trust my stepmother that she isn¡¯t a murderer who is at fault for my father¡¯s death? ¡°I mean, no. But she does know how to do this sort of thing. I trust her to strategically plan a public proposal for an arranged marriage, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°Nothing from Sheen yet, then?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s working on it,¡± I said, leaning back against my chair. ¡°He¡¯s a busy guy. Got a lot going on. Don¡¯t know how he even finds time to see Ha¡¯ana, truth be told.¡±


    Mea chuckled. ¡°She can be persuasive.¡± She flicked her eyes up at me, a flirtatious smile on her lips. ¡°Sounds like things are going well for them.¡±


    ¡°So I hear,¡± I said, smiling back.


    ¡°I wish we could go out like they do,¡± she said, suddenly glum, her eyes roaming her little kitchen.


    We had come to her house in secret, as we had many nights. We couldn¡¯t come to my apartment anymore - too many cameras, and even with security, the location was too high profile. We couldn¡¯t risk being caught together, not if I was going to sell this arranged marriage with Alyss. A part of me enjoyed the sneakiness, the playful tease of fear, wondering if we¡¯d be caught. It heightened the suspense, it felt like. But I knew it wasn¡¯t sustainable, and apparently, Mea was feeling the effects.


    I didn¡¯t want her to be unhappy, but more than anything, I wanted her to be safe. If we were found out, not only would my career take a hit, she would likely be targeted. Some people didn¡¯t like the idea of Aurgan nobility dating lower than their class, let alone a half citizen Nari¡¯e. And she¡¯d always wanted her identity kept out of the spotlight, due to her work with Ka Po¡¯e. I wanted to respect that, as it served both of our purposes, but it made it hard to spend time together.


    I remembered Bateman¡¯s idle threat, the hint that he knew of our relationship. I wondered how much he really knew, how much was public knowledge, or just hearsay in the [house of lords]. Though, I assumed I would find out if I happened to be the source of rumors one way or another.


    ¡°I wish we could go out too,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d love to take you dancing.¡±


    I pictured her in an elegant ball gown, twirling her way through the crowd on my arm. I¡¯d sweep her off her feet, dip her down low, and swoop in with a courageous kiss, much to the jealousy of everyone in the room.


    Or, I''d take her to a bar scene, find a good club with low lighting and see what her moves really looked like on the dance floor.


    ¡°You know,¡± I said as if I¡¯d just had a strange idea. ¡°I think we can do some dancing right here.¡± I raised my eyebrows at her, setting my fork down carefully and pushing back the chair so I could stand.


    ¡°Oh, you think so?¡± she said.


    I extended my hand to her, within arm¡¯s reach across the small table. ¡°May I have this dance, milady?¡±


    She accepted the hand with a fire in her eyes, standing up and edging the table until we were face to face. ¡°That and much else.¡±


    I sat in my kitchen at the bar, crunching on cereal, staring at the perfectly wrapped, tiny box on the counter. It stared back at me, it seemed like, full of so much power within the minuscule cube. Bateman had it delivered to me a few days ago, but I hadn¡¯t even had the courage to open it yet. I knew what was inside; did it matter if I knew what sort of rock I was giving Alyss? That pressurized piece of stone was meant to represent a promise, commitment. Which I suppose I was doing - just not the usual kind the ring was intended for. The proposal was today, and Cerise had laid out a whole array of things I had to do. Looking at the ring wasn¡¯t one of them, though.


    I looked down into my bowl, a few pieces of fruity cereal left floating. I sighed, eyeing the time on my WaComm. I had to get ready, get things going. At least I didn¡¯t have to help set anything up, but I was supposed to spend the whole day with Alyss. Cerise made a point of scheduling each event in my calendar, and at the time when she¡¯d sent me everything, I felt nothing but resentment. Now, I clung to those events like lifelines. Whether or not Cerise was involved in my father¡¯s death, at least I could count on her not to let me embarrass myself when I did this.


    I checked the calendar, one more time, to make sure I knew what I was doing. I didn;t, but at least I had a reminder. I was supposed to go ¡®surprise¡¯ Alyss at her apartment, take her out on a whirlwind day. As soon as I walked out that door, I was an actor. We had to look the part of a young couple, about to be engaged. If the public believed it, then there was even more power in our union. Cerise had told me she had paparazzi stationed along strategic points in our day, ready to catch the candid celebration. I just hoped I would be convincing enough.


    I tossed the bowl into the sink, the milk sloshing out and splashing onto the counter. Whatever. It was time to go. I grabbed the  box and shoved it into my coat pocket, unopened.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ~


    The drive to Alyss¡¯ apartment was longer than I¡¯d expected. I knew she lived farther out from the city center than I did, but the traffic was slower than I anticipated. I guess even with autodrive, congestion can still become an issue. When I finally arrived, it was a skinny, tall building, favoring height opposed to width. She must have multiple floors, or maybe the entire thing, to herself. There¡¯s no way Bateman would let his daughter live alone without owning it all. It¡¯s just much safer to not have neighbors, or nosy people in close quarters, I suppose.


    I sent Alyss a ping to let her know I was here. I stepped out of the car, straightened my button up shirt, and stood stiffly. Should I look nervous? I didn¡¯t have to act the part; that was real. I hope this is all worth it.


    A few minutes later, Alyss stepped out from the front door. She wore a floral sundress, the straps pushed down around her shoulders, the skirt flowing and fluttering as she walked. She really was a beautiful girl, a fact I never would be able to deny, but she just wasn¡¯t Mea. I found myself picturing Mea in the same dress, walking out to me as Alyss was right now. My cheeks reddened.


    ¡°Hey there, stranger,¡± she said playfully. ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡±


    I blinked. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d spoken to her since she asked me to come to dinner with her, right before my father went to the hospital. I assumed she was in the loop about what was going to happen today, what was going to happen for the rest of our lives. Oh stars, but what if she didn¡¯t? What if she thought we were just friends, about to spend the day together? I had no idea what she¡¯d been told. Would I be springing this on her when I proposed later this afternoon? I blanched.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so nervous,¡± she teased, squeezing my arm. ¡°Open the car door for me. You only get engaged once. Hopefully.¡±


    I breathed a sigh of relief. So she did know. Following her instructions, I opened the door for her, letting her climb inside. I entered the address of the restaurant where we were supposed to have our brunch into the autodrive feature, and the car took off. My WaComm pinged a reminder that I was supposed to be in position at our table in ten minutes.


    The drive was silent, and thankfully, short. Alyss spent the ride doing something on her WaComm, while I spent it in awkward, sweaty silence. My hands were clammy, the weight of the box in my pocket feeling so heavy, I wondered if my pants were going to fall down.


    The brunch was pleasant and easy, Alyss providing ample light conversion, stimulated by the plentiful mimosas the waiters supplied. Our table sat at the window, leaving in view a lush garden park across the street. If I was correct, that was our next destination. I checked my WaComm, verifying that it was indeed the next place to be. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a discreet flash of light. The paparazzi. Of course, they were here. Cerise had said they would be, but didn¡¯t specify where exactly. They would be capturing our whole day together. I did my best to ignore them, putting on a lovestruck smile to fool them.


    Looking lovestruck was easy; all I had to do was picture Mea across the table in front of me. Replace Alyss¡¯ deep blue eyes with a honey golden brown, the pale complexion with one of deep, sunkissed tropical brown, the perfectly coiffed blonde hair with a mess of dark wild waves. Then, the acting came to me easily. Each word of endearment was to Mea, only to her. If only she knew.


    I studied Alyss¡¯ face, noting all of the differences between the two women. They were two physical opposites, of that there was no doubt. Not to say that Alyss had no merit, for as I¡¯d always known, she was a stunning woman. But she wasn¡¯t the woman who had stolen my heart with her fiery nature and bold passion.


    Ping


    My WaComm notified me that it was time to move on. Fortunately, we had just finished eating, and it was time to leave. I paid the waiter with a gracious tip.


    ¡°Shall we go for a stroll? I¡¯ve been eyeing that park over there,¡± I said casually, as if the idea had just struck me and hadn''t been planned out for weeks by my stepmother.


    Alyss grinned, revealing her perfect smile. ¡°That sounds lovely.¡±


    I stood, rushing over to her side of the table to help her stand as well, like a gentleman would. She smiled at me appreciatively. We walked away from the restaurant hand in hand, like any respectable couple would. The path was clear from the sidewalk, and we began to follow it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe these flowers are in bloom already,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s as if time has passed without me noticing.¡± She pointed to a bush covered in bright red flowers, the petals open to the rays of the sun.


    I leaned over to pluck one free, the stem providing little resistance.


    ¡°Come here,¡± I said, gesturing that  she came closer.


    she looked up at me, all shy smiles and demure posture. I tucked her hair behind her ear, securing the flower there when I did so. I hoped that the paparazzi got that shot; it would be gold.


    She smiled wider.


    I felt the heaviness of the box in my pocket, wondering if now was the right time. Cerise had said it should be done somewhere in the park, but hadn¡¯t specified where. Though, out of the corner of my eye, I did spot a fountain a little while off. that might be a nice location.


    I nodded my head in the direction of the fountain. ¡°Shall we? Now that you¡¯re properly adorned?¡±


    She nodded, still smiling, and took my hand once more.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing great,¡± she whispered to me conspiratorially.


    ¡°Am I?¡± I said back louder than I¡¯d meant to. She¡¯d surprised me. ¡°I¡¯m glad you think so. I¡¯m a wreck.¡±


    ¡°Nobody can tell,¡± she whispered.


    We walked a few steps more, the fountain growing larger and larger as we approached.


    ¡°Act natural,¡± she said. ¡°Pretend I¡¯m telling you sweet nothings.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows. What was she up to?


    She turned to face me, stopping me and taking both of my hands in hers. If anyone were to see, they would think we were confessing our love to one another. ¡°I need to hear you say you will still honor our deal.¡±


    ¡°Our deal?¡± I said. Of course, she would still want that agreement respected. She wanted to run her father¡¯s business when it was time, and I wanted freedom. ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Humor me,¡± she said insistently. ¡°Tell me exactly what that is and what it means for us.¡±


    I sighed, then remembered I had to look like I was in love and about to propose. Right. ¡°When we marry, you inherit control of AUT, not me. This will be a union of friendship and mutual respect. I¡¯ll be allowed to spend time with¡­ whoever I like, discreetly. And vice versa.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Thank you.¡± She turned her head towards the fountain, clearly understanding what I had in mind. ¡°Shall we continue?¡±


    We walked up to the fountain, the water gurgling over carved stone, churning happily through pumps and pipes to spout out the top. The reservoir below shone and sparkled, partly due to the water, but also partly due to the large amount of coins below. Others had the same idea as I did, to toss a coin and make a wish at the fountain.


    I rummaged in my pocket for my wallet, finding a few coins for us. ¡°Close your eyes until I say,¡± I said, pressing a coin into her hand, leaving one for myself in my pocket.


    I watched her close her eyes, holding the coin in her hand close to her chest. I couldn¡¯t help but smile; her behavior was so endearing. The coin plopped into the water below.


    Quietly, I removed the box from my pocket, and knelt down onto the cold paved stone. I opened it towards her, and took a deep breath.


    ¡°Open your eyes, now,¡± I said quietly.


    She saw me on one knee, and like the best actress I¡¯ve ever seen, began to tear up. Her hands flit to her mouth in feigned shock, her eyes growing wetter and wetter.


    ¡°Will you marry me?¡± I said, the words nearly getting stuck in my throat.


    She nodded, her hands still covering her mouth, though she removed one to extend to me. Still kneeling, I slipped the ring out of the box, and placed it onto her third finger.


    I stood and held her close. She tilted her head up to kiss me, our lips meeting. it was nice, to be sure, but it wasn¡¯t the fire I¡¯d grown used to with Mea. Instead of a pleasant sensation, suddenly, all I felt was disappointment. She would never be Mea. I could never ask her to be.


    We broke apart. I fished the coin I¡¯d set aside for myself out of my pocket, squeezed it tight, and tossed it into the fountain, too.


    I wish for this to be worth it.


    ~


    It felt like eons later when I was finally on my way home after dropping Alyss off at her apartment. The chaste kiss goodbye in front of her door took the last bit of energy I had, and I found myself falling asleep, lulled to doze by the smooth motion of the autodrive. There was nothing quite like sleeping in a car after a long day, soothed by the heated seats and the silence of the road.


    Ping


    It was my WaComm. I flicked my wrist to see who it was, who had awoken me from my relaxing slumber. I brightened when I saw Sheen¡¯s name. A few finger twists later, and his voice echoed within the car¡¯s speakers.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, man?¡± I asked, pleasantly surprised by his call. It was a beacon of light at the end of a complicated day, a call from my best friend.


    ¡°Torven, you watching the wallscreen?¡± he asked, out of breath and rushed. ¡°The news?¡±


    ¡°You calling to congratulate me already?¡± I mused, surprised and also unsurprised about Cerise¡¯s efficiency. He must be watching the paparazzi¡¯s ¡®secret¡¯ view of my engagement, already up on the network. ¡°Can¡¯t believe it¡¯s on the news already.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Sheen said. ¡°No - you haven¡¯t seen it?¡±


    ¡°No, why would I? I¡¯ve been living it all day. I¡¯m not even home yet.¡± I yawned.


    ¡°What the fuck? Torven - the Prime Minister was just found dead. Murdered.¡±

 Twenty Eight

    ¡°Sheen, I¡¯ll call you back.¡±


    ¡°Okay, do that. I¡¯ve got more to tell you.¡± His voice went quiet, the call finished.


    I twisted my wrist over to see the screen of my WaComm, doing a quick search to see if Sheen was pulling my leg or not. Immediately, my eyes confirmed what my ears had told me; Robert Chetland had been found dead in his home.


    Soon, but not soon enough, I arrived at my apartment. A flick of my wrist sent my car off to park itself while I ran inside, panic and urgency pushing me to turn on the wallscreen. It was one thing to see it on the WaComm, another thing entirely to hear it on the reputable news source that was constantly airing. I barreled into my apartment, barely even noticing the door shutting behind me. I didn¡¯t bother turning on the lights, instead rushing to turn the power to the wallscreen.


    I waved to switch it to the news, my heart rate increasing and my breathing short.


    Banners along the screen repeated the same message: Prime Minister Assassination?


    The newscaster spoke solemnly. ¡°...he was found dead in his home. No other victims have been identified at this time. Here¡¯s to you, Chief Phillips.¡±


    The camera switched to the chief of police. ¡°Thank you. These are dire times, in the interest of catching this killer, we are not disclosing any further information. If you have any knowledge of this murder, please call the Aurga Police Department directly.¡±


    The camera switched back to the newscasters. ¡°Well, I guess all we can do is speculate,¡± the newscaster said, turning to her colleague. ¡°Tifani, what are your thoughts?¡±


    ¡°Well, one can only assume this is the return of this local rampant serial killer, someone who¡¯s clearly unsatisfied with the state of the Ministry. It seems they have taken even further steps this evening.¡±


    ¡°I hope the recent stop-and-search law will reveal some answers,¡± commented the first newscaster. ¡°We cannot afford to be too generous with criminals and non-citizens.¡±


    ¡°Right you are, Sandra,¡± Tifani said, nodding grimly. ¡°Desperate times call for desperate measures.¡± She shuffled her papers, her mouth a tight line. ¡°Sandra, what¡¯s your opinion on whether it¡¯s assassination or murder? It¡¯s still speculation until we determine the culprit, of course.¡±


    ¡°Tifani, the difference is the motive, as you know. If it¡¯s a political motive, then it¡¯s assassination. But my question is, why else would someone murder the Prime Minister if not for political gain?¡±


    ¡°I suppose the next question is, who would gain from such an act?¡± Tifani questioned. ¡°The Nari¡¯e?¡±


    ¡°There has been a surge in Nari¡¯e related protests and arrest violence in the wake of this new stop-and-search law that the late PM enforced. Regardless, we won¡¯t know until we catch the killer and find out for sure.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Sandra. Again, citizens, a reminder to call the Police Department if you¡¯ve heard or seen anything. No detail is too small. Now, for what happens next - I know all of you are concerned about the continuation of the Ministry. Have no fear.¡±


    ¡°Vice Prime has been sworn in as acting Prime Minister just a few hours ago, in the hasty transition of power shortly after Robert Chetland was found in his house. He will take over operations until the election next fall.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s going to be a cutthroat election year, what with the extreme power upset here and unforeseen circumstances. Vice Prime I¡¯m sure will be a big contender, what with his extra year of experience. If he handles this well, he will have quite a lead on the other campaigners.¡±


    ¡°There are sure to be quite a number this year, but one rookie has caught the attention of the media already - and he hasn¡¯t even announced his intention to run yet!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you all know who we¡¯re talking about; the handsome, freshly sworn Lord Torven Montgomery. We expect to see a rivalry erupt between him and the Vice Prime.¡±


    I turned off the wallscreen. It was all too much to hear. Robert Chetland was dead, leaving a power vacuum in his wake, and a fearful public. A part of me felt excited, being named as a potential favorite in the election I hadn¡¯t even announced being a part of yet, while the rest of me felt guilty. Was I taking advantage of Chetland¡¯s death? He was a man respected by the nobility of Aruga, and now he was dead. Murdered by the hand of a stranger. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    They had mentioned the recent displeasure of the Nari¡¯e, and I knew it held merit. The Nari¡¯e had been trampled by the government as of late, a fact Mea had been telling me about since I¡¯d met her. I remembered how Ha¡¯ana¡¯s daughter had even been arrested under the stop and search law, and I¡¯d pulled strings to get her free. Was the law helping any - had we caught any criminals - or was it just creating a larger and larger divide between the native Arugans and the Nari¡¯e?


    Ping.


    It was my WaComm again, but it wasn¡¯t Sheen this time. It was Tork, my campaign manager, and both Zack Bateman and Jakob Mentel, a conference call. I answered, swiping up to hear it through the speakers of the wallscreen instead of the usual WaComm sound. This had to be important; I instinctively knew it was related to the breaking news I¡¯d just watched.


    Bateman¡¯s distinctive voice came through first, his words sharp through the silence. ¡°You see the news, son?¡±


    The endearment made me bristle, false on his lips. I swallowed it. ¡°I did, sir. Chetland has been murdered.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°No suspects yet.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but more importantly,¡± Tork interjected, ¡°you¡¯ve been named a favorite. We¡¯ve high hopes for your campaign.¡±


    I closed my eyes, pressing them shut as I took in their priorities. I should¡¯ve known this was how they would react, more excited about the opportunities this created for us than the solemn severity of the ex-Minister¡¯s death.


    ¡°Of course, prayers to his family,¡± Mentel said when I left the silence to grow between us.


    ¡°Of course, of course. This is truly a tragedy,¡± Tork added. ¡°But there is no doubt it is also a great opportunity for the entire country.¡±


    I nodded, even though I knew they couldn¡¯t see it. My silence must have been enough of an answer, thankfully. A blessing, because I had no idea what to say.


    ¡°Your fight to be elected might be favored, but it will still be a tough one. Sharpen your claws, son. Mentel, Tork and I will begin preparations immediately.¡±


    The line clicked dead, the others following suit quickly.


    I sighed again, suddenly burdened with what comes next. There was never a moment¡¯s rest, it seemed, and I wasn¡¯t quite sure what to do with all of this new information.


    All I wanted was to call Mea, to see her, my rock, anchor, the calm in the storm. She would know how to handle this, what I should do. I wanted to become Prime Minister for her, after all, for the benefit of her people as well as myself.


    I twisted the WaComm to begin to dial her number when another call came in.


    Sheen. I answered it quickly, swiping haphazardly, nearly missing. Here was another source of reason phoning in, another lifeline. I would gladly take any one that was handed to me.


    ¡°Hey, Tor. We gotta talk.¡± His voice was rushed, hurried, as if he¡¯d just been running.


    ¡°Yeah man, did you see the news just now?¡±


    ¡°No, but this is more important than that -¡±


    ¡°Dude, Chetland¡¯s been killed,¡± I interrupted. ¡°Murdered. Assassinated, I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Oh wait, no shit? Fuck.¡± He was silent for a moment.


    I could hear his breath come slower and slower as he stopped to process my words. I sighed, my fingers pressing to my temples. ¡°What did you need to tell me?¡±


    ¡°Uh, I got into your dad¡¯s WaComm. But don¡¯t get too excited. That¡¯s as far as I got.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? What do you mean?¡± My heart beat faster and faster, catching in my throat. Did he just say what I thought he said? Did he really crack the code?


    ¡°The ID of the caller is still encrypted, and that¡¯s even more locked down than just getting into Ralen¡¯s WaComm. But that still helps us.¡±


    I furrowed my brows. ¡°Most people don¡¯t have their ID encrypted¡­¡± I said, puzzling the new information over, grateful for the distraction from what I¡¯d just been bombarded with. Most callers want their identity known, so that their intended audience would know and answer. It didn¡¯t bode well that the caller was secured, but it did add to my evidence. ¡°But I suppose if you¡¯re trying to commit an indirect assassination, you¡¯d be careful. So that¡¯s not very helpful.¡±


    ¡°True, but it does narrow it down some. Confirm the intentions. You wouldn¡¯t go to those lengths to conceal your identity if you had nothing to hide, right?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°This proves nothing, Sheen. We¡¯re still nowhere.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡± he insisted. ¡°It¡¯s progress. And, with the level of encryption here, it¡¯s somebody with an insane amount of resources. Access to this kind of software is pretty rare, I imagine. It¡¯s something I¡¯ve never seen before, which is why it¡¯s going to take so long to crack into. I¡¯ve had to dig into the forensics of the whole software, down to the binary lines of code.¡±


    ¡°Damn, Sheen. That sounds...fun.¡±


    ¡°Heh. It normally is, but the pressure behind this one makes it a bit less lighthearted of a puzzle.¡±


    I chewed on my lip, worrying at a piece of chapped skin. ¡°Sheen¡­ Thank you. You¡¯ve given me some hope.¡±


    And he had. Now, we were getting closer to some sort of an answer, and maybe I¡¯d be able to make sense of one aspect of my life these days. If anything, this glimmer of information was a thread of hope, something I could maybe use to sew back together my sanity. As always, Sheen was a shining light, a helpful distraction, and a great friend.


    ¡°I¡¯m your friend, Tor. I¡¯m just trying to do what¡¯s right. And for what it¡¯s worth? I hope it¡¯s not Cerise behind this.¡±


    ¡°Me too, buddy. Me too.¡±


    I could do this. For me, for Mea, for the Nari¡¯e, for justice. I would become Prime Minister, solve the murder of my father, and make those responsible pay for their heinous crimes. I would do anything to get there. I vowed it.

 Twenty Nine

    The water lapped at Arugan sand, the dark, coarse particles swayed back and forth with the ebb and flow of the surf. Wave hummed their rhythmic song, a neverending choir of motion and relentless swirls of turbulence. The sun tried its best to pierce through the morning fog, the brisk cold air of the ocean breeze slamming against the nearby city smog, a war between nature and man taking place at the threshold between country and sea.


    Loose seaweed inched closer and closer to shore, twisted around the carcass of a dead, deep sea tuna. Its flesh had been gnawed, rotten, its glassy eyes red like a devil from the deep. Something had chewed on this unfortunate creature, but given the state of the fish¡¯s body, it was a wonder if the meal it provided was any sort of comfort. It looked poisoned, warped, as if its nature had twisted to become something a tuna had never been before. Its teeth were longer, sharper, and bloody. Its eyes are red and gleaming, its fins knives along its back. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Some of the seaweed trailed behind the tuna, a distinctly healthier color than the fronds that had become entangled in the decrepit flesh of the fish, knotted around its overgrown fins and stuck between its mutated teeth. The seaweed not directly touching the poisoned fish was a typical dark green, swirling almost elegantly in the surf. The rest was tainted and stained, as if it had soaked up blood, taking on a similar hue.


    Further out in the ocean, nurse sharks circled, waiting for an opportunity. A creature that normally left well enough alone saw a boat above, noticed a threat; red, mutant eyes saw through the oscillating waves a vulnerable face. A target.


    Violence begets violence, mistakes follow through land and sea to seek retribution, warping peaceful creatures, demanding reparations.

 Thirty

    The grainy wallscreen took up a third of the size I remember Torven¡¯s in his apartment. It splayed against the pockmarked wall, the screen warped with age, twisting and waving the shapes and figures. Ohelo laughed as Ha¡¯ana sullenly gave up her winnings from their card game, Ohelo taking the pot.


    ¡°That¡¯s why you should never bluff,¡± Ohelo said, still smiling.


    Ha¡¯ana just narrowed her eyes at her. ¡°My poker face is usually better.¡±


    ¡°Not as good as mine,¡± she continued. Her eyes peeked down at the comically large pile of petty change. ¡°As is evident.¡±


    I did my best to ignore their banter, though I couldn¡¯t help but allow a small smile to peek through when I saw Keoki¡¯s uncomfortable face as he sat in between them. Those were two women who you didn¡¯t want to get stuck in between if things got violent. A fact he knew rather intimately.


    While I would usually much rather participate fully in the poker game going on behind me at my kitchen table, instead the horrific and gut wrenching scene on the wallscreen held my attention like vice grips. I had to remind myself to blink.


    His smile on the screen shone bright, his hair perfectly coiffed, his suit tailored expertly. He looked so much older than I remembered, though it could¡¯ve been the stiff way he held his stance; back straight, shoulders tight, the slicked back strands of blond hair tucked behind his ear.


    My stomach turned and gripped when I saw the figure next to him. I¡¯d ignored her all this time, trying to focus (and failing miserably) on the facts, the words that the newscaster spoke as she narrated the events. A glint momentarily blinded me as they both waved in turn, metal and stone on her hand. My insides twisted again, as if someone had their hands on my organs, squeezing, pulling, and poking. It was never supposed to be like this.


    ¡°Mea?¡± Ha¡¯ana said, shuffling her deck as she prepared to deal. The cards yellowed from the sun, their well-used edges dirty and worn. Familiar. ¡°I told you not to watch this shit. Come play.¡±


    I could only manage to shake my head no, my eyes never leaving the cursed wallscreen.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing, Mea,¡± Ohelo said quietly. ¡°You are the reason he¡¯s there. Take that for what it is.¡±


    ¡°I know I¡¯m the reason,¡± I bit back. ¡°That¡¯s the fucking part that hurts. I paved the path to his success, and yet he¡¯s married to her.¡±


    ¡°That was always the plan,¡± Keoki reminded me as he looked closely at the cards Ha¡¯ana had just passed out. ¡°You know that. You two were never meant to be more. It¡¯s too dangerous, anyway.¡±


    I sighed. This was something I knew, obviously. He was supposed to be just a tool, just a means to an end, a way to help right the injustices my people fight every day. I had always only meant to get inside his head just enough that he would help me, but watching the screen had me wondering if he was doing the same to me. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it doesn¡¯t hurt, though,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°You know you have to keep him twisted around your finger for a bit longer,¡± Ohelo said softly, her words drifting over the noise of the wallscreen. ¡°He might be in power now, but his battles have just begun. We still need him to fight for us.¡±


    Ha¡¯ana looked up at me. We shared eye contact, the communication between us never needing words. She knew what I was feeling from my expressions, my mannerisms. Her empathy felt what I felt, my anguish. She shot a glance over to the other couch where her daughter, Pa¡¯ani, sat, and her face softened. Her return to my gaze told me what I had to do. For her. For them. For us. I nodded.


    ¡°I know the plan,¡± I said. ¡°I came up with it, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Before long, we¡¯ll be able to return to our islands, our ancestral home,¡± Ohelo said, laying down a card while she looked at me. ¡°And then it won¡¯t matter anyway.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a long way off,¡± I said. ¡°He would have to succeed and then some for that to happen. It won¡¯t be for years, at least.¡± I swallowed hard, wondering if i had the stomach to continue. I had to. I twisted around on the couch, looking into the kitchen. ¡°Fuck this,¡± I said, swiping the WaComm to turn off the wallscreen. ¡°Deal me in.¡±


    ~


    Everyone had left hours ago, ghosts of their presence playing in the rhythmic flickering light that illuminated the stovetop. I sat at the small table, just staring at it. The warm light dimmed every few seconds, then grew bright again, reliable and consistent, if not entirely there. It was silent, but I could still hear the flick of cards flat against the table, the flutter of hands being dealt, the soft and easy going banter of friends who had known each other for their entire lifetime. They had all gone home to their own lives, their own homes, their own realities, no longer sharing them with me. Leaving me alone in my thoughts, my brain, my knowledge. What do I do with this? What do I do with the information I¡¯ve been forced to accept?


    I have royally fucked up.


    I¡¯ve allowed him to become closer to me than I ever intended. It was always the goal for him to fall in love with our world, our people, through a love I hoped to kindle within him for me. Ever since I learned his name, that fateful night where Pa¡¯ani had nicked his wallet, I had known it was the best course of action. The Nari¡¯e aren¡¯t treated like people, barely granted the right to exist in this country we had been forced to flee to.


    My people ached, I ached, to have our own rights and our own ancestral lands once again, for sand I had never run my toes through. Is it possible to miss a place you¡¯ve never been? It must be so, as I dreamt of it often. My grandmother¡¯s vivid descriptions made it seem like a paradise, a welcoming fresh breath of salty air, thick with the scent of a thousand flowers, the breeze just enough to lift a few strands of hair from the neck. She had told me of how she and the others had escaped their little island, the adventure ingrained into my brain like a childhood fairy tale. While Arugan children went to bed hearing the story of princesses and magical forest creatures, I heard tales of island capers, lighthearted and heavy, the most powerful of all their desperate evacuation. Most Nari¡¯e my age had similar experiences, as it was tradition to share our history in this way. I wondered how much knowledge we had lost, holed up in this congested city.


    What the fuck was I doing? I jerked up off the cushion, stiff and startling. I brushed my finger over my thick braids, running the palms of my hands over the intricate knots. I¡¯ll be damned if I sit here, sulking and mooning over a simple boy. Because he was nothing more than that. Despite the titles, the riches, the newfound political standing, he was just a boy.


    I glanced at the clock, yellowed from the sun. the moon shone on it now, sparkling through the window. It was late, and there was nothing to do now except go to sleep, wake up, and show him - and everyone else - who Mea Kaika really was.

 Thirty One

    A knock sounded at the door. Three raps in quick succession. Precise; loud, but not too loud. As if the person desperately wanted my attention, but didn¡¯t want to draw too much of it. It wasn¡¯t any of my inner circle, Ha¡¯ana or Keoki or Ohelo, as they had a key. It could only be Torven.


    I set down the cup of coffee on the counter, a drop of the liquid slipping over the edge to leave a ring on the surface. My fingers trembled, but I wasn¡¯t sure for what reason - caffeine? Anger? Excitement? I inhaled deeply and smoothed my braids against my head. I''d be damned if I wasn¡¯t calm, cool, and collected.


    I opened the door to a stranger wearing a hooded sweatshirt, sunglasses, and a surgical face mask. His clothing was baggy, nondescript, though innately clean. His skin, the bit I could see of his cheekbones through the shadows of the hood was a familiar pale tone, uncommon on this side of town. I was right - it was Torven, and he was in a cheesy disguise. Did he really think he was inconspicuous dressed like that? He drew more attention this way, especially with his shining bright sneakers. They were pure white, and still reflective, not a single scuff. I wondered if he¡¯d bought them just for this purpose.


    ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± he whispered. ¡°Let me in!¡±


    I¡¯d already surmised who it was, but without another word, I ushered him inside. No point in gabbing outside; neither of us really wanted our relationship, whatever it was, public.


    As soon as the door shut and the lock clicked, he sighed a breath of relief, pushing the hood back to reveal silky blond tresses, mussed from the sweatshirt and damp from walking. His deep blue eyes met mine, melting as I stared back at him as he removed the sweatshirt from his body and tossed it on the kitchen chair.


    ¡°Indeed, it¡¯s you,¡± I said, crossing my arms and continuing to watch him. Let him squirm.


    His eyebrows squeezed tightly together at my less than response. I wondered how he¡¯d imagine our first meeting in private since his election, and whatever else besides. Probably was a bit less hindered by clothing, I¡¯m sure. I squeezed my arms tighter.


    ¡°Can I get a glass of water?¡± he said finally, his eyes roaming the house. Was he looking to see if we were alone?


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I passed him to enter the kitchen, sneaking a peak at his left hand as I did so. It was bare. Why did that knowledge cause my stomach to leap?


    I softly picked up a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water from the sink. It was mostly potable, and it was the best I had to offer. I handed it to him, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to comment, or ask for fucking Perrier.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said as he took the glass.


    ¡°Was that what you came here for? Water?¡± I said, knowing full well that wasn¡¯t the case. I knew what he was here for, the same thing he always wants from me. God damn it if there wasn¡¯t a part of me that wanted it too. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°No¡­¡± he paused to take another gulp of water, then placed the glass carefully on the counter next to my coffee cup. ¡°We need to talk. There¡¯s so much that I need to say to you, but I don¡¯t know how.¡±


    I nodded my head in the direction of his discarded hoodie. ¡°Seems you have trouble getting to me, too. Too important to be seen in the Nari¡¯e quarter?¡± Truthfully, I understood why he wouldn¡¯t want to be recognized here, and at my place. But it wouldn¡¯t hurt to make him feel a little guilty. He had married another woman, after all. Anybody would feel jealous.


    He only sighed, not denying my comment. ¡°You¡¯re right, Mea, and you have been from the start. Can I please take some of your time to get all of this off my chest? Then you can chew me out as much as your heart desires. You deserve all that, and much, much more.¡±


    Damn right I did. I nodded, to let him know he had the floor.


    ¡°Okay, here goes. Everything I have done has been for you. Every single little thing, even the things that have hurt and upset you. And for that I¡¯m so sorry, but I just need you to see the big picture, okay?¡±


    He sighed heavily, the weight of whatever he was going to tell me pressing down on him visibly; he sought the kitchen chair and sunk down into it. The old metal squeaked in protest.


    ¡°I want to give you the world, everything. But you made me see - that first time we hung out, you made me see - that the world I can give you is right in front of our eyes. But it needs changing, so much changing. The system needs to change from within, don¡¯t you understand?¡±


    I kept watching as he spoke, ignoring his comments about my understanding. I understood more than he knew, of course. But I let him continue.


    ¡°...I know this is probably hard to stomach, given what I¡¯ve done, but I¡¯ve fallen for you. Heart and soul. And I knew that if I wanted to be with you, I had to become your champion. I had to become Prime Minister¡­ for you.¡±


    ¡°But did you have to fuck her, Torven?¡± I spat, surprising both myself and him. I had been so quiet thus far. My heart beat quickly, so powerful I could feel it in my throat. What was going on with me? I was supposed to forgive him, so he could continue to love me and be my ¡®champion¡¯, just like we planned.


    He blinked, shocked by my sharp words. His face was so crestfallen, it was as if I slapped him. Good, maybe he¡¯ll start to understand what betrayal feels like, being hurt by someone you cared about. He didn¡¯t speak for a moment, letting me simmer in my suffering.


    ¡°You don¡¯t deny it either,¡± I scoffed. ¡°Not that I¡¯d blame you. I saw her on the television; she¡¯s a perfect Arugan beauty.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t blame her -¡± he started.


    ¡°Oh, believe me - I don¡¯t. I blame you. I blame you for making me care about you. I blame you for making me think, maybe, maybe! That there¡¯s more to life than just struggling, suffering through day after the other, displaced. Unwanted. So no, I don¡¯t blame her at all.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± he said. He smoldered with a slow heat of rage, fired up by my words attacking him.


    He deserved it all, even though I should¡¯ve held back. Silently, I cursed my selfishness. This was all for my people, this whole escapade, and I¡¯ve already fucked it up. I stared down at my toes, willing deep quicksand to emerge underneath and swallow me whole.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you the space you need,¡± he said after a moment of intense silence. ¡°But Mea?¡±


    I looked up into the eyes I¡¯d been avoiding. They shimmered like the ocean at daybreak, the morning sun speckling the waves.


    ¡°I will do anything - and everything - for you.¡±


    Shocked, I watched in silence as he picked up his hoodie, tossed it over his head, and slammed my front door behind him.