Zuna Yako will have to wait. I can’t dawdle. Not after my encounter with Veronica.
My backpack jingles. Fractions. 1 coin turned into 100. 10 fractions could buy a house. Could buy anything. 100? People would serve you for life. But the money I’ve made. It isn’t mine. I stole it. That’s how the Wyre became unstoppable.
I climb into the car. Peter stares at me in the mirror. “Where to?”
Where do I go from here? Veronica wants justice for the pain I caused her. She must’ve felt humiliated and I antagonized her with my presence. How long ago did she give up on me? Her words carve through my skin. How would you feel if the person you hoped would save you betrayed you?
All those people I buried… A thousand dead… Just to save a thousand more…
Why did I fight in this war? Why did I start it? Maybe if I return… But do I really want to know the truth about myself? Isn’t being a coward enough?
Veronica said I have to pay. I watch the infant sleep. “The border.”
Peter nods. “You sure?”
I smile. “It’s time to go home.”
He drives.
Whatever the Wyre needs… I’ll supply it. Weapons. Soldiers. Money. Medics. Farmers. Trackers. Tech. This is my atonement. For leaving. For staying as long as I did. This is how I free Pelaris. SAAF cannot stay. Not when someone so good… Like Theresa, Micheal, Greene, and Melody… Not while they live.
If I want to raise this child right, then I have to go back to war. There’s already too much blood on my hands. All these years of hiding never washed it off. I just chose to stop looking at it.
Barthelemy… What’s it like standing in my shadow? You’re a better man than me. I’d have continued the killing. There’d have been nothing left by now. But you… You stopped it. You spared people. The deals you made. Will you be happy to see me again? Or will you tell me to leave?
Book of Q'an (Part 1): 120 years ago...
A glossy black limousine hovers through an empty street. Clouds darken the sky. Q'an swipes her finger. A page turns on her virtual file.
2 interns sit across from her...
“I wonder what she’s thinking about right now.”
“Probably about last night.”
“You mean dinner with the director?”
“I heard that she’s being promoted."
Q'an glares at them. Her brow twitches. She clears her throat and watches the buildings pass.
Last night, she went to his office where a fire sat in a gentle pile above a stone slab. There was a rug in the center of the room. He sat at a table with a stack of documents waiting for her. Marriage papers... Not a traditional marriage... One between businesses.
Nebula told Q'an to persuade the CEO of Be!Fantastic!, Felipe Poel, to manufacture parts for Sentia Nista. Q’an wasn't sure what Nebula's motives were, but she had a hunch. Be!Fantastic! was the biggest manufacturer of medical and electrical supplies.
Nebula told Q'an to do whatever it takes to make this deal happen. With Felipe's eyes glued to her cleavage, Q'an realized Nebula was using her—or her body at least. Several hours later, his signature was signed on all the necessary forms and she was walking out with them.
The limousine stopped in front of a large warehouse. Q'an steps out and looks up at it. While she was negotiating with Felipe, a small organization believed to be C:1, staged an attack. The interns climb out of the vehicle and stand behind her.
Q'an snaps her fingers. "What is C:1?"
Noro, a frail young man with wavy black hair, answers. "C:1 was once a faction of the Wyre until a change in leadership broke them off."
Q'an nods. "We aren't sure who the new leader is, but they're skilled in combat. Do we know what kind?"
Pàlo, a bright-faced and eccentric girl with ruby hair, chimes in. "Single-edged curved sword."
Q'an takes a deep breath. "Since this is your first assignment with me, I have to warn you that the crimes I investigate are extreme." She walks toward the warehouse and pulls on a fresh pair of gloves. "You'll see things that'll upset you. Crying will not tolerated. I'm not your babysitter. I'm not your parent. You've either got the grit for this or you don't." She spins on her heels. "And if either of you embarrass me in there... I'll make you live to regret it."
The interns pull on their gloves and follow behind. They enter the warehouse. Bodies. Q'an squats to examine one. "These wounds aren't from a sword. Possible horn marks. No signs of a fight." She snaps her fingers. "What do we make of this?"
Noro covers his nose. "They were...fleeing?"
Pàlo leans in. "They must have been in a hurry."
Q'an chuckles. "What is this warehouse used for?"
Pàlo opens her virtual document and reads. "They receive parts for Zella engines and check their quality before shipment."
Q’an moves and scans the scattered body parts. "Zella engines power communities with electricity and running water. We use them at headquarters. The tech comes from where?"
Noro hides behind Pàlo. "Zone 3!"
Q'an hums. "We're here to understand why C:1 would attack this place."
She examines the equipment, walls, and corners. Her interns stay in her shadow. Q'an pauses. "Tell me about the inventory."
Pàlo flicks through the files. "Fully stocked. Everything's accounted for."
Q'an tilts her head. "Something's missing..."
They walk to the main office where rows of cubicles were left untouched during the attack. Q'an raises a brow. "Noro, what's wrong with this scene?"
Noro tiptoes through the cubicles and touches his chin. "They're organized! It's like whoever was here wasn't interested in stealing their documents." He looks at a drawing. "Their personal belongings are still at their desks."
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Q'an grins. "If not senseless violence, then what would motivate the assailants?"
Pàlo looks around. "Assailants?"
Q'an nods. "Most of these victims match up with their employee files, however, three of them are missing. Pink, blue, and silver eyes. Why does eye color matter?"
Noro gulps and looks at Pàlo. She smiles. "Eye color is a mutation from the ACC gene. Humans do not carry this gene, but all Nobles do. Their offspring, even if bred with a human, will also carry this gene."
Q'an huffs. "Those workers out there... Did either of you notice their eye color? They're human."
The interns freeze. Noro shivers and runs to Pàlo. "Does that mean humans aren't hiding underground anymore?"
Pàlo shrugs. "Maybe they were brought here to be used as labor... That doesn't explain why they were killed and the Nobles weren't. Could they have been abducted?"
Q'an snickers and walks past them. "Could have been... Or maybe they were the attackers."
The interns talk amongst themselves while Q'an goes into a separate office. She examines the desk, then looks in the bin and checks the calendar. The interns poke their heads into the room. Q'an snaps her fingers. "Record my findings... This office belongs to a man. 6'3. Drinks his coffee with one cream and two sugars. Uses short-hand." She turns to them. "Who is he?"
Pàlo looks through the employee files. Noro answers. "A supervisor!"
Q'an sits at his desk. "He had access to things that the rest of the employees didn't." She opens the drawers. "He kept a file on each employee and every shipment."
Pàlo gasps. "Silver eyes!" She blushes. "He's quite handsome."
Q'an nods. "Scan for fingerprints. Enter them into the Known and Wanted Criminal Registry. Let me know if you find a match."
Q'an skims through the documents... Business arrangements, shipping details, invoices... She grumbles and leans back. "Why attack and take nothing?" Q'an reads the files again. She focuses on the record for parts they received from the weeks prior. Her eyes widen. "These aren't Zella parts... No return address..." She smirks. "These could be used to make a laboratory." She opens her virtual document and flips to the man. "Silver eyes, huh? You took 17 parts in the last 3 weeks. Who sent them to you? Where's your laboratory? Why kill your coworkers?"
She hums. "C:1... Their leader is said to have worked closely with Zachariah." Q'an shuts her eyes. "A collaboration between organizations is what we want to prevent. C:1 is rarely involved with killings. Maybe this wasn't C:1."
She stares at the picture of silver eyes. "Who are you really working for?"
Present day...
Miles of guards. Sectors trapped behind fences. Barbed wire. Lookout posts. Warning signs.
Barthelemy... What have you done? In my day, the people were free to roam so long as they didn't cross into SAAF territory. He's separated them. What for? The Axeheads won't respect a fence. SAAF could tear through these Sectors in a matter of days.
I look at Peter. "Have there been uprisings?" It wouldn't be the first time people have demanded the Wyre's withdrawal from their settlements.
Peter snorts. "You really are out of the loop! The people hate the Wyre more than ever. That's all I can say..." He rubs his fingers together.
There's no point in paying him for information. I'll learn soon enough... We are stopped some way from the headquarters. A guard approaches. Peter rolls down his window. The guard scans us. "State your business."
I pat Peter's shoulder, remove my mask, and smile at the guard. "Here to see an old friend."
The guard raises a brow. "Name?"
I grin. "Zachariah."
She flinches. "Zachariah?" She glances to the other guards and gulps. "He's back!"
They drop to their knees. The gate opens and the guard gestures. "Please, allow me to escort you."
She climbs into a large vehicle with dark panels and dull windows. We follow her to the headquarters... It hasn't changed. Signs all around with the same message. "You are hope. It cannot be lost."
I thank Peter and pay him. Barthelemy runs over and hugs me. ”Your timing is perfect!"
I chuckle and pat his back. "Nice to see you too." He's never hugged me before. What's going on?
He lets go and holds my face. "I need your help."
People stare. No one I recognize. Is Melody here? Where's Chuboki?
Barthelemy walks me inside. The walls are still lifeless grey. The air is musty. My reflection bounces beneath me on the slick stone. Part of me forgot about this place.
He takes me to the top floor where my office—his office is. I look around. Nothing's changed. It's...eerie. ”You don’t stay in here much, do you?"
Barthelemy slams his fist into a wall and sobs.
I touch his back. "Is it Nebula? The Axeheads?" I don't smell a curse. What's bothering him?
Barthelemy sniffles. ”Zachariah, you left me a war that was not mine to finish."
Oh... I thought he wanted this.
He wipes his face. ”Every day, 100 more people dead. They stop at nothing. Nothing! I have tried everything to shake them off my trail, but they keep finding me." He shivers. "This is the only place they can’t get me." He turns to me. "They kill them. They kill everyone! Guilty or not." He grabs my shoulders. "It’s because I’m their leader. All their deaths are because of me! I KILLED THEM!"
I put my hand on his shoulder. "I know."
I can't muster the words to comfort this whimpering man. We weren’t friends, but we weren’t enemies either. He never let me get to know him. I left a war in the hands of an angry man. His father was murdered in front of him...by Nebula.
I gulp. "Have you been sleeping?"
He shrieks. ”SLEEP? SLEEP? SLEEP? HOW CAN I SLEEP WHEN THEIR FACES ARE ALL AROUND ME?" He drops to the floor and cries. ”I can’t sleep because all I see are their mangled lips and torn off faces. Their eyes sit deep in my head as if to haunt me. They accuse me! THEY TORTURE ME!”
Nathaniel stirs. I set him on the floor along with my backpack. I kneel beside Barthelemy and rub his back. "Are you in the program? It was designed to help you deal with thoughts like this. Maybe I need to review it again."
Barthelemy springs on top of me, gripping my collar and wheezing. ”Can’t you take it away? Please! Take it all away! I know you can, Zachariah. Take my mind away so I can forget all this pain!"
I can. "Are you sure that’s what you want me to do?"
Snot drips down his chin. "YES!"
I can't undo this once it’s been done. "You’ll forget everything. You won’t remember your father. Me. The Wyre.”
He slams his fist against my chest. "I DON’T CARE!"
I sigh. When I woke up without any of my memories, I was terrified. There was this void in me. Something I've never learned how to fill. Barthelemy isn’t me. I can’t compare myself to what he feels now.
I wipe his cheeks. "Look into my eyes."
A ball of light floats out of my chest. One tiny thread touches the space between his eyebrows. He gasps. Mouth opening wide. Eyes rolling back. "Put me to sleep. Leave me somewhere where they'll never find me."
I taste every drop of sweat that poured down his face. Every wound he received, aching through my body. The memory of his father’s last moments, he stood there—this little boy—watching his father’s limbs fly through the air. Blood splashing over his face. My lungs rattle with it... This gut-wrenching wail! And Nebula... How evil!
His father’s last words... ”I love you."
