Chapter Text
It was pathetic how quickly the crowd of suits scattered once danger appeared. Perhaps her accomplice had a hand in that. Elnora held Lily's slighter frame tightly, gun hovering beside pale strands. Together, they paraded through the shocked crowd. Eri watched them discreetly from afar. What seemed to be genuine fear painted across Lily’s face as Elnora barked threats. It looked convincing enough that Elnora nearly paused to inquire. After the undesirables fled, Lily twisted in her arms. She was smiling, the terror banished.
“Excellent, Red. Theatrics suit you.” The rapid and easy way Lily shifted moods had Elnora thinking the same. Playful fingers toyed briefly with the ends of her hair. “Allow me to fetch a towel and we can take our leave. We should depart before the authorities arrive.”
When Lily returned, Eri bounded up to her expectantly. The girl had been sedate as they waited, stirring to life when the pale woman reappeared. She beamed as Lily gently dried her hair. “You were so cool, Ms. Lily! They really thought you were scared. Mom overdid it some, but you sold it.”
Lily laughed. “That’s sweet of you. Yet without your mother’s ferocity, my efforts would have felt misplaced. It was a joint success.”
Eri muttered something unheard but eventually agreed. "Maybe, yeah. Can we eat now? I'm starving"
They departed for the boardwalk shortly afterward. It was modestly occupied; primarily by families. They were dressed more casually than the business types who infested the city center. Eri led Lily by the hand, chirping excitedly. Elnora eyed them a pace behind. She supposed they looked a bit like a family. Lily certainly played the role of a doting mother better than her. Once again, Elnora felt shame for depriving Eri of that. Ellie wouldn’t be struggling half as much in her stead.
Elnora shoved her insecurity aside. Self-pity wasn’t a good look for her. Their lunch was hearty and pleasant—filled with Eri’s chatter and Lily’s gentle voice. The woman had an interesting way about her. She returned Eri’s playfulness with aplomb, never missing a beat. Anytime Eri’s teasing came at Elnora’s expense, Lily redirected. It made her wonder if their new friend sensed the strain between them.
“You’re good with her,” Elnora commented. They strolled the artificial beach, Eri skipping through the water ahead. It had been a pleasant afternoon, despite how the day began. “Better than most would be. Makes me wonder if you have children.”
“Not one." Lily's gaze was fixed on the horizon. Her arms crossed, drawing inward. “I haven’t plans for it either.”
“You a career woman, or just the sort that appreciates them in small doses?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Lily fell silent for a prolonged moment. Glancing aside, Elnora noted that her expression seemed wistful. “Perhaps the right opportunity simply hasn’t arrived. I would like children eventually.”
Elnora almost inquired how her spouse—if she had one—felt about the subject. She decided against it. Lily’s romantic affairs were none of her business. There was a job to do. “Fair enough. They can be a mighty big handful. Eri in particular.”
The look in Lily’s eyes was wry. “I noticed. She’s quite independent for her age.”
“She’s had to grow up before her time.” Elnora swallowed thickly, searching for the right words. “Her attitude with me is a part of that. I’m sure you noticed. Surprised you haven’t asked.”
“I generally refrain from prying. If you wanted me to know, then I would.” Lily looked up at her, features aglow with sunlight. Strange how it failed to illuminate that cryptic smile. “You can never truly know someone unless they allow it. Otherwise, it’s an exercise in futility.”
“Is that why you haven’t asked my name?”
“You're catching on, Red," Lily replied smoothly. They stopped walking as Eri waded into the sea. Elnora observed her diligently. The girl wasn’t the strongest swimmer. Her only experience was the lap pool Naji had installed aboard. The koi pond hadn't been very deep. Both were meager compared to an ocean. Elnora relaxed as Eri remained in the shallows.
“Is she interested in art?” Lily asked. Elnora peered at her inquisitively. “There’s a gallery near the central district. I plan to visit and would appreciate the company. You both may find it novel.”
Elnora considered the offer. “Not much for fine art myself. I doubt they’ll allow us inside if it’s a black-tie affair.”
“The owner is an acquaintance. I’ll put a word in.” Lily’s expression shifted, eyes hooding with something inscrutable. “I’d appreciate your presence. Should the pieces fail to arouse your interest, perhaps the company shall. I’ll endeavor to make the trip worthwhile, Red.”
“Yeah?” Elnora coughed, wrong-footed once again. Naji would mock her viciously if he could see her now. “Got some nicer threads back at the hotel. We can get changed and meet you there.”
Lily clasped her hands together. “Wonderful. Give me the name and I’ll arrange for a car to escort you. I’d hate for you to lose your bearings or become waylaid by a scoundrel. One recently attacked the botanical, I hear.”
Elnora snorted at that aside. “Sounds like a rogue of the lowest caliber, Ms. Lily.”
“Oh?” Lily’s tone grew syrupy as she drew out the word. “She looked most impressive to me…”
A couple hours on, Elnora stepped inside a towering gallery. She tugged at her vest and smoothed her jeans, both freshly laundered. It took all she had not to self-consciously comb her hair. Despite the effort, she still looked shabby compared to the surrounding patrons. Elnora didn’t give a damn what they thought. It was Lily’s opinion she desired.
Elnora spotted her in the far corner, speaking among a group. They locked eyes momentarily and Lily raised a hand in greeting. Elnora gave a stilted wave in return. Beside her, Eri groaned loudly.
“Can’t believe I ever thought you were cool. You’re so embarrassing…”
Elnora squinted down at the girl. “I’m embarrassing? I ain’t the one who enjoys digging in her nose for permet.”
“That was only once!” Eri protested with a flush. Her face pinched. “See, that’s what I mean! I’m gonna look around until Ms. Lily is done. Don’t follow.”
She stomped away in a huff. Elnora shook her head, exasperated. She didn’t understand what Eri wanted from her. This trip was meant to mend their rift—not widen it. Eri only ever seemed at ease when Lily was near. Elnora ignored the voice in her head telling her she knew exactly what to say. It sounded too much like Naji.
With a sigh, Elnora strolled along the decorated walls. The pieces were pretty, she supposed. Art wasn’t her forte, beyond pilfering it for gain. Most were in the same archaic style—marble-like figures of people with too clean features. A grittier one, with a monstrous figure devouring another, she found somewhat compelling.
Elnora paused as her eye caught something red. A winged man with scarlet curls glowered from the frame. His arms were rigid as they stretched, shielding his lower face from view. His stare conveyed a buried rage. Elnora found kinship in it. Unbidden, she mimicked the coiled pose. Her prosthetic arm wrapped around her face, clasping the hand of its flesh twin.
“L'Ange déchu by Alexandre Cabanel.” Lily appeared suddenly. Elnora stiffened, mildly abashed. Thankfully her companion didn’t seem to notice. She regarded the painting thoughtfully. “It depicts Lucifer after his failed rebellion.”
“The Devil,” Elnora stated. She tipped her hat, peering at the fallen angel intently. Religion was something the overseers taught as a method of control. Some of the other facsimiles clung to it genuinely. Elnora never saw a need for such belief. The only things she placed faith in were the material—that which she could shape or break. “Ain’t a godly sort myself. Experienced too much that contradicts. The way I see it—if there is a God, that throne has long been empty.”
“Or claimed by unworthy hands,” Lily said. She gestured between Elnora and the painting. “It’s coincidental you should find this. When we met, I was struck by the resemblance.”
Elnora smirked. “Calling me a devil, Ms. Lily?”
“Perhaps a rebel at the very least. Am I wrong?” Lily didn’t wait for an answer. She began walking away, glancing backward. Elnora followed the implicit summons. “I spoke with Eri. She acted more subdued than earlier.”
“My fault,” Elnora admitted. She feigned interest in a nearby sculpture. “Made her mad. All I seem capable of doing these days.”
“It wasn’t anger I saw. To me, she appeared deeply melancholy.” Lily was silent for a moment as Elnora digested that detail. “If you want my opinion—she loves you dearly. Whatever the cause of your strife, that’s unlikely to change.”
“If you were aware of everything I kept secret, you wouldn’t be so confident.” Elnora stared at the statue distantly. Her mind was unkind as it portrayed every terrible way Eri could respond. “I appreciate the sentiment, Ms. Lily. Let’s just look at the art. What’s this feller doing here; he praying to that lady?”
“It’s Pygmalion and Galatea by Etienne Falconet,” Lily revealed. She gave the sculpture her focus. “A reproduction, of course. As with most everything in this gallery. Are you familiar with the myth, Red?”
“Can’t say I am.”
“It’s an interesting tale with variations throughout the years. A sculptor becomes hopelessly enamored with his latest work—the ivory visage of his ideal woman.” Lily’s lips pursed as she spoke the last portion. “He entreats the goddess of love who deigns to bring her to life. They wed and in most retellings are happy.”
Elnora frowned. The story nagged unpleasantly as she considered. “Don’t see how. An arrangement like that is destined to fail. Her life was never hers to decide. It’s all in his hands. I reckon eventually, he’d find fault with her. Greedy men who seek perfection will never find it.”
“That’s correct, Red.” Lily seemed pleasantly surprised. “All the stories prioritize his feelings, but I suspect the resentment would be mutual.”
“That right?”
“Well…” Lily lingered, gaze heavy upon the stone man. “Galatea never did care for Pygmalion. As Bernard Shaw phrased it—his relation to her is too godlike to be agreeable.”
“Wise words,” Elnora replied. “He like that play fella of yours?”
Lily laughed prettily, taking Elnora’s arm. “Quite! They share the same craft, divided by a smattering of centuries. Allow me to show you my favorite pieces. I’d love to hear your honest thoughts.”
They traversed the gallery in a languid stride. Lily paused to graciously comment on whatever caught Elnora's eye. It likely wouldn’t be remembered. Yet the sound of Lily’s voice was soothing. The doctor’s had been the same. Occasionally, Lily would stop to show her some such piece and wait expectantly for input. Elnora was tempted to exaggerate for her sake, but Lily wanted honesty. The woman never begrudged her harsh criticism, appearing amused.
“You have a unique perspective,” Lily said as they stood at the gallery’s end. “I’m curious how you might react to the gallery’s prized works.”
“They're not shown here?” Elnora asked.
“Afraid so. They’re hosted in a warehouse beside the water; reserved for private exhibitions." Lily tipped her head. The look on her face was oddly searching. "They're holding one tonight. The subject matter is rather mature so I would refrain from bringing Eri. However, I'd appreciate your attendance.”
Elnora nearly agreed on reflex. She was finding it difficult to decline anything this woman wanted. The pirate part of her sensed an opportunity for exchange. “I’ll go on one condition. I’d like an introduction to Notrette Rembran.”
“I’m offended, Red. Is your fascination for her greater than the need to please me?” Lily smiled. It seemed sharper than usual. “Very well. Come and I’ll see what I can do.”
Eri darted into view at that moment. She tugged shyly at Lily’s skirt, sending a spiteful glance towards Elnora. “Ms. Lily, can you show me around now? I want to learn about that huge statue by the entrance. He carrying a boulder or something?”
“The Earth, or an approximation of it,” Lily said. She bent to meet Eri’s inquisitive gaze. “His name is Atlas. I’d love to regale more if you like.”
“Sure would! Earth is the world we all used to live on, right? Mom's friend Naji likes to gawp about it.”
Eri paused to send Elnora a victorious look. She stuck out her tongue before tugging Lily away. Elnora sighed, rubbing her neck. It was a mystery when Lily’s attention became a competition. Maybe Eri just desired to be a pest in any way she could manage. If it made her feel better, Elnora could suffer any minor annoyances.
Once the sun tucked behind the horizon, Elnora headed for the docks. She watched as the city crawled by outside the hover car. Lily must be extraordinarily wealthy to have a fleet of vehicles at her whim. Elnora tried not to brood about the differences between them. Don’t get attached, she reminded herself. The time they spent together would inevitably end.
The warehouse didn't look like much—its siding worn by the sun and sea-salt. Why a gallery would bother hosting its art in such a place was beyond her. Lily waited as the car pulled up, her features serene. Instead of a greeting, she buttoned Elnora’s vest and straightened her collar. Elnora blinked at the fussing.
“Our garden escapade has the city on alert,” Lily revealed. She smoothed the vest’s lapel. “Security has been notified of a scruffy, red thief. Strangely, they assumed I was taken hostage. My appearance at the gallery earlier disabused them of that notion. All the same, it’s best we blend as patrons.”
“You’re the boss, Ms. Lily.” Elnora stood taller as Lily tucked against her. Having an elegant woman on her arm already made this diversion worthwhile. She squinted upon entering, temporarily blinded by harsh light. A barren stage loomed in the warehouse center, haloed by oppressive white beams. The audience regarded it raptly. Elnora stepped forward, intending to find a better position. Lily kept her in place.
“I’d prefer we remain near the entrance.” Her eyes reflected the stage lights, resembling binary stars. “Watch closely, Red. Once you understand, then we can leave.”
Elnora obeyed, eyeing the stage. For a handful of minutes, nothing exceptional happened. A couple of workers wheeled out a statue of some kind. It was lifelike, skin appearing supple beneath the chalky hue. Carefully, the men began manipulating the figure into place beside another. They seemed to recreating something, though Elnora couldn’t determine what.
Then she saw the brand along the figure’s collarbone; a number. Elnora stilled, terrible comprehension freezing her blood. These weren’t statues. Her gut roiled violently as the workers finished and the audience clapped. She reached for her gun, fury igniting. Lily’s calm touch atop her hand was all that kept her at bay. Elnora averted her eyes from the grisly display as she was guided into the cool night.
“As I said, the gallery specializes in reproductions. Those bodies are retired facsimiles, preserved with stasis and cryogenics.” Lily’s placid tone was jarring. Her expression matched. “A manner of recycling corporate property, I presume. Healthy organs are sold to the highest bidder while the rest are given to science or the humanities. Grotesque, nonetheless.”
“If you believe that, then why show me this?" Elnora filled her lungs with the sea breeze, attempting to calm herself. Lily’s cool fingers cupped her jaw. Their eyes met and held.
“Because I want your help burning it down, Red.” Lily’s hand fell. Elnora stared, caught in her gravity. “You’ll find everything you need in the trunk of that car. The driver won’t say a word. When the show ends, we'll give those poor people a final rest."
The tight ball of rage in Elnora’s belly unwound. Her heart slowed the longer she regarded the beautiful and confounding woman. What sort of Prox cared about the fate of her kind? “Ms. Lily, you know how to show a girl a good time.”
In the dead of night, Elnora admired the roaring conflagration she helped spark. Cinders grazed her cheek as the wood began to crumble. It felt akin to that moment long ago—as she stood in the shadow of a rebellious pyre and coyotes bayed beneath a dark moon.
She crouched, hands pressed to warm ash. Elnora hadn’t known these unfortunate souls but could grant them peace. “Rest easy, friends.”
Unlike her, Lily didn’t watch the flames. She headed for the water, waves lapping at her ankles. Elnora joined after some time.
“And so, it all returns to zero,” Lily said. She turned, hands linked behind her. The fire's reflection soaked her feet. Elnora may not be one for religion, but the way Lily looked then was something close to divine. “Thank you, Red. I hoped you would humor me. You're as much of a rebel as I suspected.”
“You’re easy to humor, Ms. Lily. If you ever need a devil, I’m happy to play along.” Elnora smiled, brow raised. “About that introduction—”
“Despite rampant rumors, Notrette Rembran isn’t currently accepting private interviews," Lily explained. "Yet I have it on good authority she’ll be available by the week’s end. That should grant us plenty of time together... before that married woman steals you away.”
Perhaps it was the smell of smoke that made Elnora feel emboldened. Maybe it was the moonlight and how Lily’s skin glowed. She snared Lily by the waist, desiring an endless sea of things never explored. “Told you—don’t want her that way. I doubt she could tempt me if she tried.”
Lily’s smile returned. She slipped deftly from the hold. The look in her eyes beckoned Elnora to chase. “We should flee the scene lest the inspectors find us. Keep up or I’ll leave you behind, Red.”
Elnora had a queer thought then. Reckon I’ll always want to follow you. She ran forward with the scent of fire and sea, pursuing the mysterious Lily.
— ⚷—
Waking in a daze paired with a migraine was typical. Having the taste of blood in her mouth was the same. Rousing to someone flicking pebbles at her head was new. Elnora blinked, wincing as something struck her temple. She shook her head, a pile of rocky debris falling from her hair. She searched for the source, gaze falling on the huddled form of Miorine.
“Oh, you’re awake.” The girl’s face scrunched. She sounded disappointed. The pebbles in her hand were tossed aside. “Whatever. I was done anyway.”
Still angry then. Prospera rubbed her eyes, head throbbing. Eri in the permet dreams and Miorine while awake—it seemed she couldn’t escape someone being sore with her. That would have to be dealt with later. Preferably when she didn’t feel like her skull would split. “...Where are we?”
“Where do you think? A cell.” Miorine waved an arm at their dingy surroundings. The lights were dim and flickering. Prospera’s gaze roved to the metal bars. Rajan hadn’t placed them in beam containment, which meant this was a temporary hold. It was odd he kept them together. “I woke a few hours ago. Haven’t seen or heard anyone in the interim.”
Prospera looked around for anything of note. The cell was average Benerit fare; small and compact. No viewport to gauge whether they were planet-side either. She patted her clothing in search of her handbook. She exhaled, finding nothing. Rajan had always been thorough. She’d grant him that much. “We’re in a tight spot. Took my gun and devices.”
“They took mine too,” Miorine said. She huddled closer against the wall, suddenly downcast. When she spoke again, the words seemed directed at herself. “I wish they left the handbook. I just wanted to see Suletta…”
“Couldn’t risk us calling for aid.” Prospera sat upward, pondering their situation. “This cell is temporary. They’ll be shipping us off. Reckon they’ll send me straight to Gehenna Delta or Beta. You… hard to say.”
“Won’t my father want me?”
The girl sounded disgruntled at the notion. Prospera regarded her analytically. She should reveal the truth before Benerit places unwelcome ideas in her head. Rajan wouldn't share her compunction. Prospera wet her lips, mouth dry as desert sand. “Ms. Miorine, there are a few things you should know. President Rembran—”
“Now you want to be chatty?” Miorine interrupted, glaring heatedly. “If you had opened your mouth sooner we wouldn’t be here.”
Prospera dug for patience. She refrained from pointing out Miorine’s mutual culpability. “I know you’re upset. That’s on me. But this ain't the time for grudges. Benerit can't be trusted, Ms. Miorine. They're gonna obscure the truth."
“As you have?” Miorine rolled her eyes. “You’re just concerned they’ll pit me against you. It’s too late for that, Captain. Maybe I’ll tell them to hang you and get it over with.”
Prospera twitched at the girl’s smart mouth. She took a deep breath. “That ain’t my worry. I’m trying to prepare you.”
“Well, you had plenty of time for that.” Miorine turned away, placing her back to Prospera. Her shoulders hunched stubbornly. “Be more sincere and maybe I’ll listen.”
The sound of footsteps prevented Prospera from responding. She eyed the long shadow stretching around the corner. Rajan appeared, dressed as militant as he always had. He hadn’t changed much in all this time. The hair had faded to grey, but he was still the grim-faced sentinel at Delling Rembran’s heel. Prospera climbed to her feet as he neared.
“Rajan,” she greeted. “Still begging for your master’s scraps?”
Rajan’s face didn’t change. “You say that as if you’re any different.”
“Funny. Finally grew a sense of humor.” Prospera’s lip curled. “You should speak to the last fella who caged me. Didn’t end well for him.”
“Don’t waste your breath on bravado, Mercury.”
“Just airing the truth.” She grazed her knuckles against the bars. “Your mistake was bringing me here alive.”
He ignored her, drawing close to Miorine. The man’s face was frustratingly inscrutable.
“Young Miss.” Rajan fixed the girl with a steady look. Prospera narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know what he was playing at with that moniker. “Forgive me for the prolonged wait... and harsh welcome. There were preparations to make.”
“Did they necessitate a boot to my head?” Miorine favored him with a surly look. Good. She wasn’t the only person the girl was irate with. If Rajan was bothered by her attitude, he hid it well.
“I couldn’t risk you fleeing. For your sake, I needed to incapacitate you quickly.” Rajan’s attention slid to Prospera briefly. “I also couldn’t chance Mercury recovering. Please, allow me to escort you to a proper room. There are a few people who have anticipated your arrival.”
Miorine paused, eyeing the man skeptically. “Like who?”
“Friends,” Rajan revealed simply. He opened the cell door. Prospera was tempted to overtake him, but the overhanging turret gave pause. She bristled like a cornered beast as he ushered the girl out. The curiosity and tentative hope on Miorine’s face didn’t bode well. Neither offered Prospera a backward glance as they vanished from sight. The cell locked with an audible buzz.
Prospera slid against the well, nerves frayed. It had been many years since she was trapped in a cage. Left with only her thoughts and impotent rage, it felt just as bitter as ever. If Rajan managed to pull the wool over Miorine’s eyes, then her chances of escape were slim. With luck, Suletta and Eri would locate them.
—∅—
“Anything?” Suletta gripped the helm, waiting for her sister to respond. Her palms were slick from anxiety.
“Same as the last time you asked. Nothing.”
The answer wasn’t a surprise. Her heart sank regardless. “What about Mr. Martin or Mrs. Winston?”
“Already checked,” Eri said. “They have no clue. Ain’t no whispers fluttering through the pirate networks either. I messaged Naji to keep an eye out, but he's just as clueless. Wherever Zahi has them locked up, it’s not at your average inspector hold. Dominicus channels are a dead-end too.”
“There must be something…” Suletta stared at the control panel, throat tight. “I-I can’t let them down. The captain and Ms. Miorine wouldn’t give up in my place.”
“You’re doing your best. They would understand.”
“Eri is right.” Aliya appeared beside her. She graciously didn’t comment as Suletta wiped her damp cheeks. “You should eat something and rest. Godoy and I will handle everything in the meantime. I know Captain Prospera would tell you the same.”
“I can’t, Ms. Aliya.” Suletta braced herself against the control panel. She bit her lip. “This was my fault, somehow. I know it! Must have said something wrong and upset Ms. Miorine. Everything happened so fast after she left with the captain.”
“Suletta, I already told you it wasn’t like that.”
Suletta flinched as a crumpled chip bag bounced off her head. Chuchu ambled up to the helm. “Listen to your sister. Doc’s a bit of a hothead and Captain is... Well, you know her best. Point is, there was nothing you could do. You can waste away and accomplish nothing, or you can eat and cool off. Your call, junior.”
“I—” Suletta blinked, eyeing Aerial’s panels longingly. She heard Chuchu huff.
“Forget it! I ain’t giving you a choice.” The gunner snagged a fistful of Suletta’s shirt, tugging her away from the bridge. “Already got Till whipping up grub. Found some canned ham in storage, so you better be grateful. We can discuss what to do afterward.”
Reluctantly, Suletta followed. Chuchu was unlikely to let her slip away without a fight. Her stomach growled noisily as a tray of food was plopped in front of her. It had been well over forty-eight hours since their escape from the train. She hadn’t slept or eaten in all that time. Rampant worry made both seem unappealing.
“Go on, eat." Chuchu insisted. She stared at her hard. Reluctantly, Suletta forced a bite. Despite ham being a favorite, it tasted like ash. She swallowed it down quickly. Chuchu's forbidding posture eased when Suletta ate another fork full. "C’mon, junior. Gotta keep up your strength. Cap and Doc wouldn’t want you wasting away. You know that.”
“Yeah…” Suletta mumbled through tiny bites. She recognized the sense in her friend's words. But it was hard to remain logical when she pictured Miorine's frightened face. She swore to stay with her. And yet she failed to keep that simple promise. Chuchu sighed heavily before sitting.
“It’s been hard for all of us. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss seeing Doc’s sour face haunting the ship. Kinda surreal for Cap to be missing too.” Chuchu’s hands balled atop the table. “That Benerit bastard will pay;you'll see. We'll make him regret crossing the Aerial. Eri has a general idea of where they are, don't she?"
“She had a lock on their handbooks, but the signals went dark,” Suletta explained. Her shoulders sagged as she pushed the meat atop her plate. “Hasn’t returned since. She says wherever they’re kept, Benerit is muffling the signal. Or destroyed them.”
“Don’t be so dismal. You’re giving me heartburn just looking at you.”
Ojelo chimed in from across the mess. “I think that’s called sadness, Panlunch.”
“Nobody asked you, smart ass!" Chuchu's attention was redirected as Lilique passed them with two trays. "Oi, where are you going? I need some help cheering up Suletta. Regale her all about your last beau.”
“Oh, um—” Lilique squirmed in place, seeming torn. Suletta glanced up at her curiously. “I… have a prior commitment. With Suletta busy and the Captain gone, I’ve been feeding Mr. Guel.”
“Who?” Chuchu made a face as comprehension dawned. “That pig? Pfft, let him starve. Ain’t no point to him without a lead on our captured crew.”
“Mr. Pig…" Suletta stood as an idea bloomed. There was no guarantee he knew anything. Yet if there was a sliver of a chance, it was worth a try. "Ms. Lilique, can I tag along? There’s a few things I wanna ask him.”
Chuchu didn’t look pleased. Suletta remained undeterred. She followed Lilique to the brig, Chuchu grumbling alongside. When the group entered, the inspector straightened from his slumped position. He looked almost friendly when Lilique walked in. Then his expression swiftly darkened upon noticing the rest of them.
“You two? Ugh…” His head whipped to the side. “And I thought lunch would be peaceful.”
Lilique appeared sheepish. “Sorry, Mr. Guel. They insisted.”
While Chuchu stared at the engineer oddly, Suletta wandered up to the bars. He tensed as she neared. “I got a few questions, Mr. Pig. If you answer them cordially, I may be inclined to negotiate. Permet, food—you name it.”
“What about my release?” he asked, gaze narrow. Suletta didn’t hesitate. She envisioned what her mother might say.
“Depends on the quality of your information. If I like what I hear and you ain’t tricking me, then maybe I’ll agree to those terms.” Suletta folded her arms. “Savvy?”
The inspector pondered for a long while. He looked sullenly at his feet, brow sloped. “...I want a shower. And clean clothing.”
“Okay,” Suletta agreed instantly.
The man raised his head. “A cabin aboard as well.”
“We ain’t that foolish,” Chuchu interjected harshly. “We can’t chance you roaming around freely!”
“Then have someone watch me. I'm tired of this filthy cell." The inspector winced, squirming on the floor. He glared at Suletta with a rigid expression. "Those are my terms, Mercury. Take it or leave!"
Suletta hesitated only for a breath. Chuchu may not approve, but it wasn't her mother in peril. And Miorine… Suletta's resolve strengthened. She had a promise to keep. The risk was nothing in comparison to what she stood to lose. "Done. But you gotta give me straight answers. Any chicanery and we'll toss you out an airlock."
The inspector blanched at the threat. His lips pursed. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Our captain and doctor were taken recently by a Benerit agent called Mr. Zahi.” Suletta noted his face pulled with surprise before growing pensive. He seemed to recognize the name. “I wanna know where they’d take them. Ain’t the usual places from what we can determine.”
“No… they wouldn’t. Not for Prospera Mercury. She’s too high profile.” The gleam in the inspector’s eye turned speculative. He eyed Suletta at length. "It's been long theorized that she and the Red Coyote are the same. Every inspector has express instructions to notify Dominicus command where she’s involved. President Rembran wants her collared above the rest of you miscreants.”
Chuchu glowered through the bars. “That’s all well and good. Don’t tell us sh*t though.”
“I’m getting to it!” he spat. “Outlaws as infamous as Mercury are always sent to Gehenna Beta. Their processing center is hidden within Gehenna's asteroid ring. Chiron station, I believe. I can't say for sure that's where your crewmates are. However, that station is where we were told to bring her."
“Cripes. Gehenna Beta…” Chuchu grimaced. Suletta exchanged an uneasy look with her. There were several prison planets of varying security and renown. Beta was the largest and by far the most treacherous to navigate. If they had already imprisoned her mother inside—it would be nearly impossible to free her. There was a reason they called it the Lake of Fire.
Miorine's fate was undecided. The president wouldn't send his daughter to such a horrible place, would he? It bothered Suletta that she couldn’t say for certain.
“Chiron station it is,” she said. “Give me the coordinates and Ms. Lilique will give you fresh clothing and a shower. If we find our crew, then I’ll see about the rest.”
The inspector looked none too pleased yet didn’t protest. Suletta left after he finished grumbling out the location. She strode purposefully, hardly slowing as someone nabbed her arm.
“Wait a spell, Suletta," Chuchu called. She nearly tripped over her boots to keep pace. "Godoy is the first mate. You should run this by him and Aliya first!”
“Ain’t no time.” Suletta shook her arm free, avoiding her friend’s eyes. “I was taught to act first and beg apologies later. We can’t be second-guessing when our captain and Ms. Miorine are at stake.”
“That pig could be lying,” Chuchu said cautiously. “Each prison world’s orbit is armed to the gills with security. Waltzing our crew into that station half-co*cked would be suicide.”
“Then I’ll go alone,” Suletta replied. Chuchu seemed at a loss for words. “It’s my mother, Chuchu. Ms. Miorine… I love her too. I refuse to let them go without a fight. Maybe you can’t understand, but this is personal.”
“Damn it all—alright." Chuchu threw up her hands in exasperation. Suletta smiled gratefully as the woman pushed her towards the bridge. “Guess we’re headed for a mass funeral. I’ll be cursing your name in pirate heaven, Coyote Jr.!”
— ⚷—
When Zahi led her from the abyssal depths, Miorine nearly expected to be attacked or interrogated relentlessly. Despite nursing a smidgen of hope, experience taught her Benerit was a cruel beast. She waited on edge as Zahi directed her to a large room. It seemed ordinary at first inspection. Plush seats were positioned beside what appeared to be a hearth. She couldn’t determine whether it was real or a facade. A long table laid beyond. Nothing insidious so far.
“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Zahi entreated. His manner had eased, becoming accommodating. Miorine didn’t trust it. He strode to a nearby tray. “This was your mother’s favorite blend. You may find it comforting, young miss.”
Warily, she watched him pour a few cups of tea. “Are you expecting company, Mr. Zahi?”
“A couple.” The man pulled away after placing the tray in front of her. Her handbook was placed beside it. She palmed the device hesitantly. “I’m aware you have ample reason to distrust us. Allow me to set your mind at ease. I couldn’t help but notice you’ve forgotten who I am.”
Miorine shifted uneasily. “...I was locked in a stasis pod when the crew of the Aerial found me. My memory has been shattered ever since. I didn’t realize we knew each other, Mr. Zahi.”
“As I said, I serve your father. We weren't close, but I watched you grow, young miss.” Like when she first met Prospera, Zahi’s face was hard to read. “It’s a shame Mercury has placed these unwelcome notions in your head. You’ve forgotten much. Many care for you, including the pair I've invited to join us. They were your closest confidants."
“I don't care who I used to be," Miorine stated frankly. Zahi's stoic mien faltered slightly. She relished his surprise. "You mentioned my mother. I find that topic more interesting."
Zahi was quiet, appearing to think. Eventually, he nodded. “What would you like to know?”
“You said you were friends. I have some recollections of her; not everything.” Miorine shifted on her heels, keen to discover more. “...What was she like?”
“Mrs. Rembran was intelligent,” Zahi began. His cadence was slow and measured. “The top of her field, in many respects. However, she wasn’t inclined towards socializing. Shy, you might say. Your father adored her delicate nature. That naivete caused her to be fooled for so long by Mercury.”
Miorine frowned deeply, finding the explanation lacking. Something about his description felt… off. The woman in her scant memories hadn’t come across as particularly timid or naive.
Before she could press him further, the adjoining door suddenly opened. Two people of dissimilar appearance entered. The first was a young woman with flaxen hair garbed in a billowing cloak. She smiled broadly upon glimpsing Miorine. The second was a tall man of comparable age, skin bronzed as if he hailed from the frontier. From his meticulous clothing and neat bun, that was unlikely.
“It is you! I can hardly believe it.” The woman invaded her space and Miorine reeled backward. She scooted away subtly. The stranger’s expression fell. “Oh… you don’t recognize me? It’s Yushura.”
“We were informed she may not remember,” the young man said. He offered Miorine a sympathetic look. “Shaddiq Zenelli. We attended the same school once. It’s been so long. You look well, all things considered.”
“I’ll leave you to become reacquainted with your friends, young miss.” Zahi moved away. Their gazes caught for a fraction of an instant. “You should listen to those who know you best. They can recover all the pieces you’ve forgotten. I’ll have food brought shortly.”
Zahi left then, leaving her alone with the unfamiliar pair. Miorine regarded them with immense reserve. Their hopeful faces seemed genuine, at least. Hesitantly, she addressed them. “You say we were friends…?”
“Yes!” ‘Yushura’ brightened. “During our school days. It feels like an eternity now. You were at the top of our class, along with Shaddiq.”
“You always beat my scores,” the man said with a chuckle. His green eyes twinkled. They were pretty, she supposed. A mulish part of her couldn't help comparing them unfavorably to Suletta’s. “But I expected nothing less. You were—are brilliant. The same as your mother that way.”
“My mother?” Miorine perked at the mention. “Then you knew her as well.”
“Distantly,” Yushura commented. She smiled apologetically. “Mrs. Rembran was a bit… Um, how do I phrase it?”
“Removed.” Zinelli shook his head, grimacing. “As an observer, her parenting left much to be desired. Not to speak ill of the dead.”
“Agreed. She came across as rather cold to me.”
Miorine bristled at the glib comments. “My mother isn’t dead.”
The strangers exchanged a quick look. Something about their silence felt patronizing, deepening her annoyance.
“It’s good to remain positive,” Yushura said after a pause. “One can only hope. But after everything, it may be something to consider. Shall we discuss something lighter? I have a wealth of stories from our school days to share. It may jog some memories.”
“So do I.” The look on Shaddiq’s face was curiously soft. Miorine wasn’t certain what to make of it. As her supposed friends spoke, Miorine’s disquiet grew. There was something amiss about the tales they spun. She couldn’t quite determine why until they gathered at the table.
“You were so popular back then,” Yushura mentioned idly. She smiled in presumed reminiscence. “Ever the life of a party. I can’t drink much, so it was hard keeping up with you.”
Miorine blinked at her, incredulous. She tried a sip of Panlunch’s liquor before. It tasted like blazing bile. She decided alcohol wasn’t her fancy. “Me?”
“Oh, yes. So many suitors too. You could work a crowd like no one else.”
Miorine greatly doubted that. The thought of a crowded room full of intoxicated and sweaty bodies sounded horrific. She’d much rather be alone, or play those little games on her handbook. They had become a bit of an addiction after Suletta demonstrated. The thought of her elicited a pang of yearning.
“They were like flies to honey,” Shaddiq said from across the table. “The president’s daughter would be quite the prize. Yushura and I kept them far away.”
“That’s... nice,” Miorine replied limply. She couldn’t find anything better to say. Yushura ducked out then, apparently to fetch plates. Miorine sat in awkward silence beneath Shaddiq’s expectant eyes. That nagging unease from before returned.
“This all must be bewildering. I can’t imagine your shock.” He rested his hands near hers. “I’m here for you. We both are.”
“I suppose I’m just… confused.” Miorine cleared her throat nervously. She averted her gaze. “This person you keep talking about doesn’t sound anything like me.”
Shaddiq laughed. “Nonsense! How can it not be? You’re just overwhelmed.”
His authoritative tone needled. She fought not to raise her voice. “I know who I am. None of this fits me."
The man reached over, cupping her hand with an overly familiar touch. It was so shocking, that she couldn’t immediately pull away. “You suffered a traumatic event and braved who knows how many horrors while held hostage. Those pirates will pay for their crimes. Once you remember, we can continue where we left off.”
Shaddiq regarded her tenderly, thumb brushing against her knuckles. A wholly unwelcome revelation dawned upon her. Miorine pulled away, folding her hands atop her lap. “Were we…?”
Her gut twisted when the man chuckled with an abashed expression. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intent to reveal that so soon. Yes, we were fond of each other. I had planned to ask the president for your hand. Then you vanished without a trace. I feared that we would never be together again.”
Impossible. The thought of bearing any romantic affection for a man felt alien. Miorine sat mutely as Yushura returned. The pair shared a joke while regarding her, clearly anticipating she would laugh. They began to eat the roast duck atop the table. The smell turned her stomach. A chill snaked down her spine as Yushura eyed her empty plate.
“Aren’t you going to eat? This is your favorite.”
Wrong. Miorine stood rigidly. They blinked up at her with surprise. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear to be around these people. Whoever you want, that isn’t me…. Or am I wrong?
“I have to use the washroom,” she said, voice tight. “Excuse me.”
Miorine dashed away before they could respond. She pushed inside the nearby washroom, locking the door. Breathing hard, she peered into the mirror. The same pale features stared back at her. After dowsing her face with water, she leaned against the sink. Her face was numb, ears ringing. Distantly, she recognized the symptoms of a panic attack.
Miorine gritted her teeth, hands over her eyes. Her handbook clattered to the floor. She blinked dully at it. Picking it up, she discovered the call function was disabled. Zahi’s doing. After a moment, Miorine delved through its meager contents.
She had taken several photos of the Aerial’s crew—most were candid. Her favorite subject was Suletta. But they were all present with varying frequency. Aliya feeding Tycho with Lilique. Panlunch tossing soycorn at Eri's round chassis. Ojelo and Nuno playing cards. Nika repairing Till’s oven. They were familiar and comforting. This was the life she had made since waking.
Miorine smiled as she flicked through several group shots. Suletta was laughing in most of them. Prospera was there too, occasionally. Finally, she reached the first photo she had taken. The peaceful faces of the Mercurys greeted her. She stared, wanting to return to that moment in time. It didn’t have to only be a memory. Miorine rose, forcing aside her trepidation.
Carefully, she exited and retraced her steps to the cells. Miorine tried to be swift. It was unknown when Zahi might come searching for her. She found the stairs, nearly slipping in her haste. Prospera hadn’t moved much since they parted. The pirate’s head was bowed, her back against the wall. It was difficult to tell whether she was sleeping.
“Prospera,” Miorine whispered. She checked behind her. The hall appeared empty. “Prospera, wake up!”
When the woman refused to stir, Miorine looked around the floor. A rock lay near her feet. She chucked it through the bars—perhaps harder than necessary. The rock bounced off Prospera’s forehead with an audible thud. She erupted into a spurt of cursing, furiously rubbing her brow. Startled, glowing eyes fell upon Miorine.
“What was that for?”
“I had to get your attention somehow,” Miorine said briskly. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to find you sleeping.”
“Wasn’t asleep.” Prospera sighed, pinching her nose. “Was meditating.”
Miorine squinted in disbelief. “You?”
“Sure. It calms me. Bad memories tend to arise when I’m locked in small, cramped spaces. Suletta can relate.” Prospera peered at her, features composed. “You here to rub salt? Rajan must have told you all about my misdeeds.”
“He was vague.” Miorine regained focus. She stared at the ground morosely. “He insisted you tricked my mother. Yet I don’t know if I can believe that. The things he said about her… It didn’t sound true.”
“’Course not. He never bothered to look at the full picture.” Prospera rested her chin atop a palm. “Well, go on. What did that polecat have to say about Notrette?”
“He called her shy—naive.” Miorine looked up as Prospera erupted into a snort. “There were others. Zahi said they were my friends, but everything they mentioned didn’t make sense. They kept insisting that I was someone I wasn’t.”
“That don’t explain why you’re here now.”
Miorine turned away. She leaned against the bars, falling into a frustrated crouch. She swallowed, thinking of the life she had made despite her fractured self. "Because loath as I am to admit it, you're familiar. I am me and no other. You taught me that. Your crew never forced me to be anyone else. I’m still angry with you for hiding the truth. But… you’re mine. We’re family.”
There was a lengthy pause before Prospera answered. “Yeah. We are.”
“So I’m giving you one final chance.” Miorine held up her handbook. She heard Prospera shift in interest. “You can probably do something with this, right? Convince me you know my mother better than Zahi and it’s yours. No more secrets. I’m sick of them.”
When a response wasn’t forthcoming, Miorine craned her head. The cell was dim, but she could glean the resigned slump of Prospera’s frame. The pirate exhaled in a rush, rubbing her neck.
“...Reckon I should start at the beginning then.”
Next Bloom: Convallaria IV
