CHAPTER 7
While Tehvay, Mariantha, and Niasin ap Willenth were arranging for living quarters to house the ex-slaves away from their former masters, Kikola took the opportunity to visit relatives who had also taken refuge at the Willenth tullcooth. She navigated through the maze of corridors that made up the residence section in search of their assigned suite. When she arrived at subdivision D, corridor 3, Suite 22, Kikola took a moment to straighten her jacket before pressing the door chime.
Kikola was slightly taken aback to see a male in a pale blue uniform answering the door. "I—uh—" She struggled for words.
The decision to free the slaves hadn't long been made, so seeing one still in the blue uniform should've been expected, but it still came as a surprise. Her discomfort was short lived when the towering frame of the former Governor of Gatlor, Peltric ap Willenth appeared.
"Kikola, come in. Good to see you," he said warmly.
"You too, Peltric" said Kikola as she stepped over the threshold. Remembering Tehvay's tutelage in small talk, she remarked on his appearance. "You have grown your beard out I see."
The burly man, with deep-set brown eyes and coarse black hair, brought his hand up to stroke his long beard. "It hasn't been a priority."
Kikola could think of nothing more to say, so she turned to the man who answered the door. "You are?"
The man kept his eyes focussed downward, "Marsak, ma'am."
"Do you understand that you are no longer a slave?"
"So I've been told."
"We haven't had a chance to procure new clothes for Marsak to wear," Peltric offered.
"How they are treated is more important than what they wear, but the sooner this… symbol of oppression can be removed, the better," Kikola answered.
"I will keep that in mind," Peltric replied. "Marsak, will you fetch us some refreshments?"
"Just water for me, thanks," said Kikola.
"Would you like to sit down?" Peltric asked.
"No thank you. I can only stay a few minutes."
Marsak returned with a pitcher of juice, three empty glasses, and a large glass of water.
Kikola observed the ex-slave, now servant, instinctively stand against the wall and lower his eyes, holding the tray, waiting for an order to serve the drinks. It reminded her of a meeting on the Fearless when another ex-slave served drinks and then took up a position against the wall in a similar manner. She recalled Tehvay's words, 'We may have freed the slaves, but that's just the first step in the process.' It was clear to Kikola that the job she had given Tehvay was going to be a monumental undertaking.
"You can leave the tray, Marsak," Kikola said. "We can serve ourselves."
Marsak took one step forward and then stopped when he heard 'serve ourselves' as though it was something he had never heard before.
Kikola glanced at her host, looking for him to confirm her instructions.
Peltric at first seemed oblivious and then caught on. "Yes, we will call you if we need anything else."
With a nod, Marsak took the tray and headed back to the kitchen.
"Thank you, Marsak," Kikola remembered to add.
As Kikola poured herself a glass of water, a young boy, who was no more than four years old but tall for his age, peered around the corner.
Kikola smiled at her cousin's son. "Hello Rufen, how—"
"Rufen, come back here!" A tall woman, with long blonde hair gathered loosely behind her shoulders, came into the room and stopped in her tracks.
Instead of coming forward to greet Kikola, her cousin Trin'hale kept her distance. "How can you come here as if everything is normal?" she said disapprovingly. "As if you were normal?" Trin'hale scooped her son into her arms and disappeared back the way she came.
Kikola stood there dumbfounded. She was not expecting her cousin to have such a strong reaction to her mere presence.
Peltric's nervous cough drew Kikola's attention.
"I should go." She placed the water glass on the table and turned towards the door.
"Wait," said Peltric. "Trin just needs time to adjust."
She turned to regard him. "What about you?"
"Me?" He scratched his beard. "It was a shock when I heard you had fled, and why you had fled. You were the last one I would have suspected of… What I mean is... I am not as conservative as some." He cast his eyes down. "As most. I…" He paused to glance around and make sure they were alone. He gestured for Kikola to join him in a part of the living room furthest away from his wife and son.
Peltric lowered his voice and offered an explanation. "The Karthens were always more conservative than the Willenths. Trin'hale holds traditions as sacrosanct. All the time I have known you, you have held those same beliefs as Trin'hale, but to an even higher degree."
Kikola noted there was a bead of sweat on Peltric's temple. In the tullcooth's temperature-controlled environment, it wasn't warm enough to have caused it naturally. "You didn't really answer my question," she remarked.
Her cousin's husband wiped his brow with the back of his wrist. "I don't claim to understand what drove you to become involved with your female slave," he said, "and I am not sure I am approving of it. What I do know is that I cannot condemn you for it."
"Thank you for your honesty."
"I would say that you and… Tehvan?"
"Tehvay."
"Tehvay, sorry. That both of you are welcome here. However…" He trailed off as he looked towards the suite's bedrooms. "Just—"
"Give it time," Kikola finished his thought.
"Yes. I wish it could be different." Peltric avoided Kikola's eyes. "What is most upsetting for Trin'hale is that you brought… um, Tehvay to our home. You had it stay in your room."
"Her." Kikola corrected him. "Tehvay is 'her' not 'it'. You can tell Trin'hale nothing happened between Tehvay and me in your house."
Kikola could see the blush behind Peltric's beard. "Sorry. I will tell her."
Kikola adjusted her uniform jacket. "Also, tell her that I wish something had happened that night." She turned on her heel and walked out of the suite.
As she retraced her route back towards her own suite, Kikola saw Aloyd Willenth and Commander Eadmon walking in her direction. When they spotted her, the two officers stopped and saluted. "At ease," she said without returning the salute.
Other than her mother, her great-uncle, Gremen ap Willenth, had been the only other Elit with whom she had interacted for any length of time since starting the journey back. He had seemed accepting of her relationship with Tehvay, but she had never actually talked with him about it. After her talk with Peltric, she needed to find out where he really stood. "Aloyd Willenth, I must speak to you. Alone. Commander, would you excuse us?"
Commander Eadmon gave Aloyd Willenth a questioning glance.
"Go on. I will join you shortly."
"Yes, sir." Eadmon offered a quick salute and carried on her way.
Kikola led the way to her suite. Once inside, she turned to Aloyd Willenth and got right to the point. "I want you to be honest with me. Forget these uniforms. Forget rank. Forget you are my relative. One Elit to another, does my relationship with Tehvay offend you?"
"No." Gremen's answer was short and to the point. There was no hesitation, no awkward avoidance of eye contact.
His direct response to the question, compared to Peltric's equivocation, was not lost on Kikola. The difference between a soldier and a politician, she observed. Still, aloyds are trained to obscure their true feelings with detachment and professional deportment. She wanted to know how he truly felt. If she didn't, she could never be sure she had his respect. As Rivelor, she commanded it, but as a niece, she wanted respect to come honestly.
"Why not?" She pressed him. "My cousin Trin'hale literally ran away from me, she was so disgusted."
"For a start, I am not your cousin," said Gremen. "For another, it is not my place to judge people by who they love."
She could see by his expression that he was being sincere. "No, of course not. You and Commander Eadmon…" Kikola let the observation hang.
The aloyd's eyes widened. "You know?"
"I had my suspicions."
Gremen sighed and rubbed a hand over his thinning hair. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," replied Kikola. "It is not my place." She echoed his words with a wry smile.
He looked relieved. "Thank you."
"Does your wife know?" Kikola asked.
Gremen shook his head. "I think she suspects, but she hasn't said anything. We… um… I was young and foolish when we married. I think I was more in love with the idea of marrying the heir to the Willenth family headship than Niasin herself. Don't get me wrong, I liked her; I still do. However, over the years I realised it wasn't love."
"I suppose you wanted to avoid a scandal by filing for divorce."
"Ah, yes. We Elit and our need to cling to propriety," the aloyd observed. "Perhaps we wouldn't be in this mess if we didn't try to maintain a façade."
"I do not wish to maintain a façade," Kikola replied. "Who I love does not affect my ability to lead and to fight. The question is, will the Elit follow me if I do not conform to so-called proprieties?"
"Elit are a strange breed. If you weren't the Rivelor, you would have a lot less respect and support among the Elit because of who you love."
"What you are saying is that the Elit will follow me for the uniform I wear and not who I am?" Kikola asked rhetorically.
"Yes," he hesitated, "Though I suspect it's more because you are fighting to remove Lentol." The aloyd gestured to the sofa. "Do you mind? I am not as young as I would like to be."
They moved to the sofa and sat down. "I am also fighting to remove their privilege," Kikola observed.
"I wouldn't put it to them like that," said Gremen.
"How should I put it?"
He tilted his head back and laughed. "If only it could be that easy. A word to make everyone understand." He regarded her for a moment. "Are we still speaking frankly?"
"Yes."
"You, me, your mother, Trin'hale, Lentol. We are all Elit," Gremen explained. "We all grew up in the same society and were taught the same moral code. Yet, we are not all cast from the same mould. Why did you fall in love with a slave woman when you know it is considered an abomination to our society? By Elit standards, Trin'hale is doing the right thing in shunning you. Your mother, a judge and upholder of Elit laws and ethics, did she shun you? No."
"The fact that I fell in love with a slave was more upsetting to her than the fact that I fell in love with a woman," Kikola admitted.
Willenth nodded. "What about Lentol? You knew her when you were children, did you not?"
"Yes."
"Did she give any indication that she was anything other than a normal Elit child – looking forward to taking up her role in society to serve the good of the Hegemony?"
"No."
"And look how she turned out," Gremen said. "Someone bent on gaining power for herself. That is not the Elit way." He reached out and touched the insignia on Kikola's collar. "This symbol means you are the Rivelor – not just the Supreme Commander of the military forces of The Kalenth Hegemony, but a hero who will make the Hegemony better and stronger." He lowered his hand. "It's not just a pretty bauble; it holds great meaning to the Elit. As for the military, they need a leader they can follow and believe in. They won't care who you love. They only care that you lead them to victory."
"How do I get all the Elit to respect my authority if I cannot even have a civil conversation with my cousin?"
"People do not like change. You know that. You have seen that. You represent change on a scale they can't comprehend. Deep down they know they must embrace change or perish."
"What can I say to get them to embrace a new Hegemony?"
"There is no one word you can say that will unite all the Elit in this tullcooth, let alone all those opposing Ambra. You have to find the words that will appeal to the majority."
"I will not lie."
Her great-uncle smiled. "It is not called lying if you call it diplomacy." He placed his hand on her shoulder in a paternal way. "Your father would be invaluable to you right now."
"I have been thinking about him of late, wondering what he would think of me," Kikola confessed.
"Strambik would be proud of you—"
"Because I wear the uniform and rank of the Rivelor," Kikola interjected.
"Yes, he would be proud of you for that, but also for making the sacrifice you did for the sake of the Hegemony."
"Sacrifice?"
"Yes, you sacrificed your peaceful life, with the woman you love, to lead us against a usurping tyrant," Gremen explained.
"What about me running away in the first place?" Kikola asked.
The aloyd sighed. "Your father put the good of the Hegemony above all else. He wouldn't have been happy about you giving up your obligation to your birth right, but he would have respected you for doing what you thought was right, and he would have been proud of you for sticking to your convictions."
"So, you do accept my relationship with Tehvay then?"
"I may not fully understand, but you are my niece, and as my niece I want your happiness, as I would want it for any member of my family," Gremen replied. "However, as my commanding officer, I only judge you on one thing: your success in leading us to victory. That is your mission and that needs to be your focus – for all our sakes."
~~~~
Gral'hilanth remained five paces behind the Bren and her two sons as they walked through the gates of what had been the Maldan family's main estate on Kalenth. It was situated on a small peninsula about halfway between The Civic and Ralkatar, commanding sweeping views over the sea and hinterland. Guljein ap Maldan had been the Chairman of The Council of Administration until Ambra orchestrated a coup and declared herself Bren. The estate was a fortress that could have withstood an army, yet the Bren had captured it with the only shot fired being the one that executed Guljein ap Maldan.
Strangely fitting, it was a peaceful place. She could hear the ambient sounds of the sea crashing against the cliff below, with sea birds calling and land birds tweeting in the clear skies above, and the distant drone of farm machinery.
The peace was shattered when an alarm sounded and children from every corner of the estate came running towards them.
The walled estate with a sprawling three-storey mansion was now the home of Ambra's 'guests' – the children of Elits who had declared their loyalty to Ambra.
Not only were these children insurance that the Elits would remain loyal, but Ambra had seen this as an opportunity to indoctrinate the children into what she had called the Muhulant Bren: the Bren's Children.
The children, who lined up in perfectly straight rows in front of the Bren, ranged in age from four to twelve. There were thirty-five present today; some were still on the way.
"Good morning, Bren," they chanted.
The high-pitched greeting they gave was loud and not quite in synch. Gral'hilanth knew that annoyed Ambra, but the Bren covered it with a sweet smile.
"Good morning, my beautiful Muhulant Bren." With her sons standing behind her, Ambra knelt down and beckoned the children. In their perfect lines they approached Ambra and filed past, allowing the Bren to greet each one individually with a hug and a kiss to the forehead.
Gral'hilanth remained standing behind Ambra, watching the children file past the Bren and back into their lines. When the children were first brought to the estate a week ago, they seemed uncertain, and some cried for their parents. However, today, most of them seemed to be happy. There were still a few who Gral'hilanth could tell were going through the motions; however, they were fewer in number than last time. The children were inevitably buying into her conditioning, including Pra'lim, the eight-year old son of her cousin Ill'sandreth, who was among the group.
When the last child was hugged and kissed, Ambra stood up and nodded at one of the supervisors.
"Children! Classes! Now!" The supervisor clapped and the children marched off in different directions.
Ambra's sons gave their mother a kiss and hurried off to join their group.
"If this trial is a success, I will see it expanded," said Ambra.
"Expanded?" questioned Gral'hilanth warily.
"Yes. All Elit children will attend one of these facilities," she said as her arm broadly swept the air in front of her. "It will ensure loyalty from them. Also, I might consider it for children from all castes. We already condition slave children to obey. Imagine an entire population taught to obey and worship me."
I would rather not, thought Gral'hilanth. "Yes, Bren."
Ambra led the way indoors. They entered a room that had been co-opted into a classroom for the eldest children. The pupils stood up and greeted Ambra. The Bren walked up to the nearest pupil. "Yarno ap Kendai, isn't it?"
The boy nodded and smiled shyly.
Ambra moved onto the next child, a girl with white stripes in her jet-black hair. "Suzuma ap Barrinen."
"Yes, Bren!" The girl regarded the Bren with wide-eyed adoration.
Gral'hilanth looked on in silence as Ambra went around to the other pupils in the class. The Bren knew each of their names. She smiled sweetly. She took interest in them as they explained what the lesson was and what they had learned.
She's good. She has them in the palm of her hand.
Before leaving, Ambra addressed the class as a whole. "Remember I love you and will give my life to protect you. Will you do the same for me?"
"Yes, Bren!"
Ambra smiled the beautiful smile of a mother to her children. "Thank you. Thank you, all."
They moved on to the next class, and Ambra repeated the same ritual. It was too much for Gral'hilanth. Just before they entered the third class, she asked to be excused.
"I am counting every minute you take," said Ambra. "You'll pay for each one later."
"Yes, Bren."
Gral'hilanth hurried down the hallway towards the nearest lavatory and entered. She almost collided with a little girl coming out. The girl was one of the youngest at the facility, no more than four years of age. She stood frozen, staring up at Gral'hilanth. Her black hair, tan skin, and shocked expression triggered a memory.
The door opened. Gral'hilanth fired her weapon and the woman slumped to the floor. The man started to rise from his chair and Gral'hilanth fired again.
This is so easy, she thought.
She stepped over the bodies and into the corridor that led to the bedrooms. There was a slave cell on the right. Gral'hilanth looked in through the window in the door. The slave was asleep.
I will kill it last.
She pushed open the door to the nearest bedroom. The young boy sitting on the bed looked up. Gral'hilanth shot him at point blank range.
The boy was dead. He had been alive and now he was dead. He was— had been five. She tried to still her heartbeat, but it still pounded like a drumbeat in her ears. She wanted to throw up.
For several moments she stood frozen, fixated on the bloodstain behind the boy's head that continued to spread across the sheets. A sudden noise behind her caught her off guard. She wheeled around; weapon raised.
The young girl was wearing a short, floral patterned nightdress. A small, stuffed toy was held in her left hand. She stared at Gral'hilanth. Her small mouth opened in horror.
The girl's wide, panic-stricken eyes captivated Gral'hilanth. Her orders echoed clearly in her mind: Kill everyone. Her finger tried tightening on the trigger, but the girl would not stop staring at her.
"Run," croaked Gral'hilanth. "Run! Run! Don't come back! You were never here! Run!"
The girl dropped the toy and ran.
The girl was named Corissa Eiliad. It was the first time in fifteen years she had been able to recall her face. The girl before her could have been her sister. It was the girl that was the first to recover from their near miss.
"You a shoulder?" she asked.
"Soldier." Gral'hilanth corrected her.
"Shoul-dier," the girl repeated. "Are you? I am to be one when I grow up."
"Who told you that?"
"The Bren. She loves me and I love her. She is here now. I have to get back to my class so I don't miss her. Bye."
The girl sidestepped Gral'hilanth and hurried out.
Gral'hilanth rushed forward to the nearest toilet and threw up.
~~~~
Kikola entered her mother's suite and froze. Her mother was standing in the middle of the living room holding Rufen and beside her stood her cousin Trin'hale. She almost turned and walked out, but her mother gave her a stern look, that same look she gave her daughter when she was slow to obey.
Trin'hale saw Kikola and immediately moved to take Rufen back. Mariantha shifted position to turn her shoulder away from Trin'hale. "You two need to talk and clear the air," she said pointedly. "I will be back in ten minutes."
Mariantha made a hurried exit with the young boy in her arms.
Trin'hale tried to follow, but the door was locked from the outside. She stayed facing the door. Kikola said nothing. Eventually Trin'hale turned on her heel and confronted her cousin. "Was this your idea?"
Kikola stood her ground and remained poised, despite Trin'hale looming over her. "I knew nothing about this."
The emotional woman threw her hand up dismissively. "Then we have nothing to talk about." She stalked away to a chair and sat down heavily.
In the two days since they had last spoken to each other, her cousin had clearly not changed her opinion, and Kikola was at a loss as to what to do about it. She was expert in battle strategies, but she could not draw on her vast knowledge of military tactics to help break through her cousin's entrenched position. What would Tehvay's advice be in this situation? she wondered. Confront the issue. "There is one thing you do not like about me. Everything else about me is the same. Are you going to let that one issue destroy our friendship?"
"It's a fairly big issue," Trin'hale retorted. "Professing to love a slave! I assume you…" She turned her back on Kikola and faced away. "I can't bring myself to say it."
"Say what? That we made love?"
Trin'hale swung around again. "Love?" she asked incredulously. "It's a slave. A female slave at that." Trin'hale's face twisted in disgust. "I suppose if you're going to debase yourself, you might as well go all in."
Kikola was not angry. She understood Trin'hale's disgust. She had felt that way when she was younger. She recalled a time when she was fifteen and Ambra had made a comment about how revolting intimately touching a female slave would be. Kikola had said the mere thought of it disgusted her, and Ambra had agreed. Had I really felt that way? she asked herself. Kikola searched her memory for signs, but there was nothing to suggest she was physically attracted to anyone until she met Tehvay. "Do you love Peltric?"
"What sort of question is that?" Trin'hale folded her arms and turned away again.
"Do you?"
"Of course, I do." Trin'hale shot Kikola a look as if challenging her to disagree.
"Do you miss him when he is not with you? Does seeing him make you smile? Does his touch make your heart beat faster?" Kikola waited for an answer.
Trin'hale said nothing, stubbornly refusing to turn around and look at Kikola in the eye.
Undaunted, Kikola continued. "Could you conceive of loving anyone else?"
Trin'hale swung her body around. "No!"
"That's how it is with Tehvay. She means everything to me, and I am fortunate that I mean everything to her. Whether you approve or not, can you at least understand?"
"No. No, I can't." Trin'hale stood up and approached Kikola. "You are asking me to disregard centuries-old traditions. They can't be thrown away like they mean nothing. What about you? As soon as you were old enough to understand that you were going to be an aloyd and what it meant – not just for you personally and for the family, but for society as a whole – you embraced it with a passion. A passion that I could only dream of matching."
Kikola remembered at age five how her mother, father, and uncle Toman had sat her down and explained the importance of being an aloyd. She could see the pride in their faces. Not wanting to disappoint, she had put her childhood aside and focussed on her role. Now she understood that mind-set was the root cause of the Elit ills. "It's that dogmatic approach to tradition that brought us to this point," said Kikola. "It can't be allowed to continue."
"Good luck stopping it." Trin'hale returned to her chair, folded her arms, and faced away from Kikola.
Kikola didn't know what else to say or do to change her cousin's mind. She knew she had failed in her mission and returned to the sofa to wait for her mother to return.
The next few minutes were spent in uncomfortable silence.
When Mariantha returned, she had Peltric and Tehvay with her. Kikola and Trin'hale stood up.
"Are you friends yet?" asked Mariantha. The lack of reply told her the answer. "Sit back down."
Kikola was used to obeying her mother and sat down. Trin'hale remained standing.
"You said ten minutes," said Trin'hale. "I am leaving."
"I said I would be back in ten minutes. I didn't say you could leave in ten minutes."
"I am going. Where's Rufen?"
"He is with my brother," said Peltric.
A few paces behind him was Tehvay. She walked over and sat next to Kikola. Mariantha closed the door behind her and stood there as if daring anyone to try and leave. With Peltric's coaxing, Trin'hale sat back down.
"We are at war with Lentol," said Mariantha. "We cannot afford to be at war with each other."
"I am not the one in the wrong here," said Trin'hale.
"This is not about who is wrong and who is right," said Peltric. "This is about getting the two of you talking."
"We tried. It failed," Kikola responded.
"That was your attitude to the painting lessons at first," Tehvay reminded her. "But you persevered and became good at it."
"Painting lessons?" Trin'hale seemed surprised.
"Yes," replied Kikola. "I took lessons. I was making good progress until…"
"Maybe you could give Kiko some lessons," Peltric suggested. "If you both want that?"
Mariantha tutted. "Stop being so conciliatory, Peltric." She faced her daughter. "Would you like lessons from Trin'hale?"
Kikola nodded.
"Good." Mariantha turned to Trin'hale. "You are going to give Kikola art lessons. What do you want from Kikola in return?"
"I don't want anything from her."
"All right, that's settled then. Kikola gets her art lesson and Trin'hale gets nothing."
"Wha—" Trin'hale's protest was cut off.
"Peltric," continued Mariantha. "Is there anything you want from Kikola?"
Behind his big beard Peltric allowed a small smile to form. "No. I think I like the new Kikola a little better, if I am honest."
"Very well," said Mariantha. "Kikola, is there anything you want from Peltric?"
Kikola shook her head. She was stunned by her mother's actions more than anything.
"Tehvay, what about you? Is there anything you would like from Peltric or Trin'hale?"
Kikola shook off her daze at her mother including Tehvay in the conversation.
Tehvay looked around at everyone before settling on Kikola. "I just want them to accept Kikola for who she is now."
"Is that all?" asked Mariantha. "Do you want them to accept you?"
Tehvay swung her head to face Mariantha. "That would be nice, but accepting Kikola is more important."
Mariantha smiled. "Selfless. Thinking of others before oneself. Those are admirable traits." Her smile faded and she looked directly at Trin'hale. "Especially from a slave."
"Mother," Kikola started to object, but a single look from her mother silenced her.
Kikola's mother turned back to Tehvay. "You are not a slave anymore. Be selfish. What do you want from us?"
"Respect."
"You have mine," Mariantha replied. She took Kikola's hand and faced Trin'hale. "You were the closest thing Kikola had to a sister. Don't change that. Like or dislike what she is or what she's done. That is up to you, but she is family. And so is Tehvay." Kikola's mother reached for Tehvay's hand as well. "The world is changing, but if there is one tradition we should hang on to, let it be family."
~~~~
Ellovene stepped through the front door to get out of the cold. She removed her winter coat and hung it on a peg. Her reporting assignment was to cover the opening of a new water filtration plant, and she had been out in the bitter cold all afternoon. A long soak in a nice hot bath is called for, she thought.
"Are you hungry?" Jenissa called out from the kitchen. "I made something for dinner."
Ellovene walked into the kitchen, stood in the doorway, and took a deep breath. "You cooked?" She asked cautiously, because she couldn't smell anything cooking.
"Don't be silly." Jenissa stepped aside to show off what she had prepared. "It's a cold plate and salad. I could manage that much at least."
Ellovene smiled at Jenissa's domestic efforts. She would have preferred a hot meal, but she didn't want to discourage her. "Thanks. I'll just go upstairs and wash up. I'll be right down."
"Okay, I will bring the food and meet you in the living room. Maybe we can watch a vid."
"Sounds good. I'll just be a few minutes." So much for a bath, she thought, not that she minded the change of plans.
Ellovene came back downstairs about ten minutes later as promised, with her hair still slightly damp after having taken a short shower and changing into loose fitting leisurewear. She found Jenissa in the living room, but instead of a vid on the view screen, she found her roommate on the floor, with her bum in the air, pulling something out from underneath the sofa.
"What are you doing?"
With her head still under the sofa, Jenissa said, "I dropped my fork and when I went to retrieve it, I spotted something."
Ellovene sat on the sofa as Jenissa pulled out what looked to be an oversized flat case of some kind. The cold had made her ravenous, so Ellovene didn't wait for Jenissa. She reached for the plate of food on the table in front of her and tucked in.
Finally, Jenissa got up.
"What is it?" asked Ellovene in between bites.
"Some sort of portfolio." Jenissa took a seat on the sofa, opened up the case, and started looking through its contents.
"Maybe you should put it back. It could be something important."
"I doubt it. It is just some sketches," said Jenissa holding up one of the pages, "of fruit."
"It must belong to Kikola or Tehvay," Ellovene replied and took another mouthful of salad.
"I would say it belongs to Kikola," Jenissa interjected as she stared at one particular page.
Ellovene swallowed. "How can you be sure?"
Jenissa smiled, turned the sketch around, and held it up to show Ellovene.
Ellovene's mouth opened, but not to take another bite of food. She took the page from Jenissa to study it more closely.
Jenissa slid closer to Ellovene so she could admire the sketch in more detail. "It's quite a good likeness. She captured Tehvay's natural form very well, wouldn't you say?"
"I wouldn't know. I've never seen Tehvay naked!" Ellovene handed the sketch back to Jenissa.
Jenissa studied it. "I have. I mean…" The young woman hesitated and her cheeks flushed. "I didn't … I never…"
"It's okay. You don't have to—"
"I think I must." Jenissa interrupted. "Tehvay was a Taliss slave, and for a few days while both Menari and I were ill, Tehvay stayed in the slave cell attached to my bedroom. When she attended me in the night, she didn't always dress."
Ellovene didn't know what to say. The idea that Tehvay, or any slave, would not think to cover up in front of an owner baffled her. Maybe her expression gave away her feelings, because Jenissa offered an explanation.
"For an owner to be naked in front of a slave is like being naked in front of a mirror. For a slave to be naked in front of an owner is like a bed without sheets." Jenissa lowered her head. "For most. For Menari and me it was…" The young woman's golden locks swayed from side to side, grazing the high-neck collar of her blouse as she shook her head to dispel the trail of her monologue. She peered at the drawing again. "It is really quite good. Should we frame it and put it on the wall?"
Ellovene felt like they were somehow invading Tehvay's privacy, plus the idea that Pallin might see it when he came around made up her mind. "We should put it back where we found it."
"Under the sofa? I don't think they meant to leave it there."
"We should put it with their belongings," Ellovene replied. She took the portfolio, closed it up, and put it on the low table in front of them. "Why don't we finish our meal and watch a vid?"
"Sounds good," Jenissa replied.
With the lights turned down, the two women settled comfortably on the sofa, finished their meal, and watched a vid. Ellovene favoured mysteries, Jenissa preferred romantic dramas. They decided on a romantic mystery.
When it was over, Ellovene increased the ambient lighting in the room again.
"So, what did you think of it?" Jenissa asked.
"I liked how the main characters were thrown together to solve the disappearance of their colleague. The actors had good chemistry. And I never saw the plot twist at the end coming. I thought it was brilliant," observed Ellovene. "How about you? What did you think of it?"
"I enjoyed most of it," Jenissa replied, "especially the relationship between Rana and Jaris."
"I know what you mean. When Rana collapsed and they found out the colleague had been poisoning her – that was surprising. I never suspected that Rana's asthma was really respiratory failure from the poison."
"I know, but I am glad it worked out for Rana and Jaris," Jenissa replied.
"Like us," Ellovene said, stretching back in a more relaxed position. "I mean, that the two of us being roommates seems to be working out."
"Yes, I would say so, though I don't make it easy for you some days."
Ellovene smiled reassuringly at Jenissa. "Grieving the loss of a loved one is a process. It's not a 'Point A to Point B' kind of healing."
Jenissa shifted her body to face Ellovene more directly on the sofa. "I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for you. You have seen me through my worst days."
"That's what friends are for. I'm sure you'd do the same for me."
Jenissa slowly leaned forward with her lips. Ellovene recognized Jenissa's intentions. I hope Jenissa is not confusing friendship for something more, she thought. But if I push her away would that send her back to thoughts of suicide? Ellovene was wondering if she had bitten off more than she could chew. She avoided the situation by reaching for her almost empty plate and eating the last bite of food.
Jenissa pulled back. "My apologies. I don't know why I did that."
"It's all right. There's nothing to apologise for," said Ellovene. "I know you miss Menari." Suddenly Ellovene's comm unit buzzed, which was a welcome distraction from an awkward moment. She put the plate down. "I should get that. It's probably Tru. He said he would call this evening."
Jenissa moved away, allowing Ellovene to reach her comm unit.
"Hello?" She didn't recognise the person whose image was being projected.
"Hello, is this Ellovene Berneth?"
"Yes, and you are?"
"Lysgen Prakolin."
Ellovene recognised the name. "Lysgen, yes. My brother has told me quite a lot about you. Is he there with you?"
"He is the reason I am calling you."
"What kind of trouble has he got himself into?"
Lysgen's image broke eye contact and glanced down. It gave Ellovene a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you this…"
Ellovene felt her heart drop in dread of what he was going to say next. "Is it Trujilon? Has he been in some kind of accident? Is he all right?"
"There is no easy way to say it but to just come out with it. I'm afraid Trujilon is dead."
"Dead?" Ellovene felt numb, then nauseous, then angry. "Is this some kind of sick joke? Did my brother put you up to this?"
The sad expression on Lysgen's face told her it was not.
Though still in a state of shock, Ellovene tapped into her reporter's objectivity to ask relevant questions. "How?"
"There was an attack on Emanon," Lysgen explained. "Trujilon was shot and killed trying to help defend himself and others."
"Are you sure it was him?"
"Yes. A DNA scan confirmed it."
Grief was starting to take hold. "Did he… did he suffer?"
"No, I don't think so."
Ellovene heard the hesitation in the man's voice and pushed her interrogation. "You don't think so?"
"No, I'm sure not."
"Were you there?"
"No."
"Then how can you be sure he didn't suffer?"
The man's eyes were downcast. "Trujilon was hit at close range, so it is not likely he felt any pain."
"Oh." Ellovene could think of nothing else to ask him. From his responses, she was convinced there was no possibility that he had made a mistake and her brother might have somehow survived.
Lysgen was quick to say something about how much he admired Trujilon, and how sorry he was for her loss, but Ellovene didn't acknowledge his condolences. All she could concentrate on was her own heart as it threatened to shatter into a million pieces.
"Thank you … for… calling me," Ellovene managed to say.
"Think nothing of it," the Inosan man replied. "I will see you in a few days."
"Why's that?" Ellovene was confused.
Lysgen patiently explained. "Because I will be accompanying the – Trujilon back to Trengos. Your brother was a brave man. He deserves an escort back to his home. Inosa is grateful for what he came here to try and do. He died defending the lives of Inosans. To us, Trujilon Berneth is a hero."
Hearing that her brother had died saving the lives of others helped to ease Ellovene's grief, if only for a moment. "Trujilon was always stepping into the fray, even when he was a child," she acknowledged. "He was always standing up for what he believed, standing up for others."
"Yes," replied the image of Lysgen. "Though I didn't know him long, I could tell he was a man of deep conviction and a caring heart. I regret that our time together was so brief. I would have been proud to count him my friend. I want you to know that your brother will not have died in vain. We will carry on his work to establish a PPG network between our two worlds, and perhaps even expand it into other parts of this sector."
Ellovene felt the nausea return. She just couldn't abide hearing her brother being eulogised. Not now.
"If you will excuse me, Lysgen. I need to go. Please contact me again when you have your flight plans arranged."
"Will do. And again, you have my deepest sympathies."
"Thank you." Ellovene reached over and terminated the transmission. Lysgen's holographic image collapsed and disappeared.
All was still. Not a word, not a sound except the sudden creaking from the corner of the ceiling. It was as if the very walls of the house where straining to contain the grief.
She felt Jenissa's arm come across and rest upon her shoulder. At first, Ellovene wanted to pull away and rail at the universe for taking her brother from her. Ellovene wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Break furniture. Die herself. She did nothing. She felt paralysed. In the end, she gave in and accepted Jenissa's efforts to comfort her.
Barely above a sombre whisper, Ellovene asked, "Is this how it feels?"
"What?" asked Jenissa, as she turned to look at her grieving friend.
"Losing the person you love most in the world to senseless violence."
Jenissa didn't have to ask Ellovene to explain. "If you mean wanting to deny it ever happened? Wanting to lash out at the people who caused it? Questioning whether it's worth going on living? Struggling just to take another breath, because the grief weighs so heavily on your chest, you feel like you will be crushed under the weight of it?"
"Yes, that's exactly how it feels!"
"I know."
Ellovene sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing Jenissa's arm to remain. A myriad of thoughts raced through her mind: the people she needed to call and the arrangements that needed to be made. The mere thought of it made her bone weary, but she knew it had to be done.
"I should go and break the news to my parents and see to the arrangements." She started to get up off the sofa, but her legs refused to hold her weight, and she fell back again. "I just can't." Tears started to flow down her cheeks.
"They – Lysgen won't be here for a few days," said Jenissa. "I think it can wait until the morning."
Jenissa offered Ellovene her hand and helped her to stand. "Come, let me help you upstairs."
Ellovene was too spent to argue the point. She allowed Jenissa to help her upstairs and onto her bed.
Jenissa went into the bathroom and came back with a tablet and some water. "Here, take this. It will help you sleep."
Ellovene wanted to protest the need for it, but she knew it would be the only way she was going to have any hope of sleeping. And she longed for the oblivion drug-induced sleep could offer.
She took the tablet and handed the cup back to Jenissa. As she did, she glimpsed the tears welling up in Jenissa's eyes. "I'm sorry if this is bringing up painful memories for you."
Jenissa sat on the edge of the bed. "Don't concern yourself with me right now. Just lean back and try to get some rest."
Ellovene obediently closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind, but it was difficult. After several minutes she started drifting off to sleep. Her eyelids snapped open again when she felt Jenissa get up from the bed. She lifted her head off the pillow. "Where are you going?"
Jenissa turned from the doorway and whispered, "I am going to be in the next room. If you need me, just call."
Ellovene felt a rush of panic. "No, don't leave me!"
Jenissa hurried back to Ellovene and sat on the bed again. "It's all right. I will stay right here."
"Hold me."
"Sure." Jenissa curled up around Ellovene's body, put her arm across her chest, and held her close.
Ellovene closed her eyes again, but images of Trujilon at all different ages crowded her mind. She saw him as a baby, as a young boy, as a young man – in all of the images Trujilon was always smiling – until the last image when she saw his lifeless eyes staring into oblivion, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.
Ellovene bolted upright. Her grief finally couldn't be contained. She buried her head in her hands and wept.
Jenissa sat up as well, drew Ellovene close and held her as Ellovene sobbed on her shoulder.
"I was always looking after my little brother," Ellovene lamented. "Who am I going to take care of now?"
"Me," said Jenissa. "And I will take care of you. We will take care of each other."