13

Wenthi woke up, not sure of the time. The sun was still up, streaming through the window of the oxué, strong enough that there was no getting back to sleep. While he was asleep, someone had slipped in and taken his clothing—appropriate for late evenings in the city, but not for daylight hours—and replaced it with clean linen slacks and shirt. The shirt was one with short arms and several pockets on the front, the preferred fashion for older gentlemen with larger bellies and fewer responsibilities. The straw hat completed the look, and made it clear these clothes had been Oscéi’s. Aleiv’s father. Wenthi and Oscéi had, at best, tolerated each other’s presence during the time he had been Bound with Mother, and Wenthi did not miss him one bit when they announced Disunion. He wondered why clothes had been left behind.

Putting the clothes on, though, did spark some of Wenthi’s earliest memories, from the years these styles had been in fashion. Wenthi had only vague images of those days, he had been so young—before Rodiguen, before the Great Noble—but he had memories of bright, sunny days in the city circles, bustling with happy people, dressed like he was now. He remembered his mother—or his idea of what his mother was like when she was his age—in bright silk dresses and rounded caps. Celebration and flowers. Flowers everywhere.

“Where is the supper?” a young voice pierced through the air. “I have arrived, and where is the supper?”

Wenthi left the oxué and went through the kitchen, where Zoyua, Eunitio, and Izamio were putting together plates of seasoned fish and grilled vegetables. A tinny radio played a traditional Pino song, one older that Wenthi’s mother. He gave them a friendly smile as he passed through, out to the dining table, where Aleiv, dressed in her school knee-skirt and blazer, paced about.

“What were you doing in the kitchen?” she asked. “Why are you even here?”

“Don’t be rude, Ale,” Lathéi said. She was on the other side of the room slouched in one of the lounging chairs, clear carbon in one hand. “Tell Wen it’s good to see him.”

“Why are you wearing Oscéi’s clothing?” Aleiv asked.

“They were left out for me,” Wenthi said.

“You aren’t having supper with us, are you?”

“I’ve not been invited,” he said.

Lathéi got to her feet and glided over. “I would invite you myself, but I’ve already used mine for Oshnå.”

“No worries,” Wenthi said. “Were you two all right? I know Paulei got you home, but—”

“All fine. Though that whole incident was unacceptable.”

“The nucks were out of line,” Wenthi said.

“What, did they arrest you?” Aleiv asked with a sneer. “Did you get called for breaking curfew or checkpoints?”

“He’s patrol,” Lathéi said. “He gets dispensation.”

“Why haven’t they served supper?” Aleiv said, walking away from them both. “Probably waiting for Mother to ring the bell. I’ll go find her.” She skulked off.

“This is what you’re leaving me with, Wen,” Lathéi said. “A whole season of this.”

“Work,” he said. “It’s important.”

“Yes, Mother told me, and then she made me listen to the radio with her for a sweep. All sorts of horrors about the scourge of insurgents, attacking trains, sabotaging fuel rations. All they’re doing is hurting everyone.”

“I know,” Wenthi said. “That’s why I’m taking this assignment.”

“Not fair,” she said. “Barely got to see you. Even if you’re dressed like a character in an old cinescope.”

“I haven’t been to the scopes in a long time,” he said.

“If we had time today, I’d take you,” she said. “All the more reason to come back to Hemisheuk with me,” she added in a lowered voice. “All the best ones are made there.”

“If you say so,” he said. Though he truly had very little interest in going to any of the Outhic nations, even with Lathéi.

Mother came down with Aleiv in tow. “We should ring the bell. Is your guest here?”

“She’s taking an auto, so she should be here shortly.”

“Slowest way,” Wenthi muttered.

“Wenthi will join us for supper, yes?” Lathéi asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Mother said. She came up to him and kissed his cheek. “I hope you rested, love, but you will need to move along.”

“So soon?” he asked.

“I’ve received some calls,” she said. “Nothing you need to worry about, but they—” She hesitated. “There have been some new developments, and with that, a grander opportunity. They’ll need you at the headquarters as soon as you can be there.”

“Oh,” he said. “Do you know what—”

She came over to him and rested a gloved hand on his cheek. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Of course, Mother, but do you know—”

Her hand was trembling as she pulled away. “You shouldn’t waste time and get moving. That was made clear.”

“I should get back to my apartment—”

“Yes, you should,” Aleiv said.

“Peace, Ale,” Lathéi said.

“They said as soon as you can,” Mother said sharply. “I’ll send someone around to your place to take care of your icebox, cables, any other loose ends.”

“And my cycle?” he asked.

“Have someone bring it here, and we’ll keep it in the garage.”

“Thank you,” he said. He kissed his mother on the cheek.

Lathéi grabbed him in an embrace. “Not fair,” she whispered in his ear.

“Nothing is,” he said. He let go and looked to Aleiv. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“Don’t get killed,” she said. “Or Mother will be impossible. Can we start supper now?”

“Yes,” Mother said, squeezing Wenthi’s shoulder one more time before sitting at the table and ringing the bell next to her place.

Wenthi knew what that meant, what was expected of him, so with a last wink to Lathéi, he went back through the kitchen, past the hallway of the oxué and pantries, and out the delivery door.