Chapter Nineteen

Belema

 

Neith lowers herself into her seat with a satisfied look on her face. It’s one she wears when she is up to her most devious of stunts. Embarrassment gnaws at me as I realize I’ve been right by her side on many occasions when she’s worn that exact expression. She has a plan and it’s going well.

 

Since we parted ways at the library I’ve been sick with anger at her. Everything she’s doing, everything she’s done, has been for convenience. Force Invier into the Pursual. Give Seth the pass. Send Invier away. Kill Adela. Apologize to me. The list goes on.

 

Has our friendship been a convenience as well?

 

The thought springs unbidden as I watch her use Titan Sirou’s grief to her benefit. I’m not surprised Uncle Nabo has finally given her more responsibilities. He must recognize what a master manipulator she is. The only surprise is it took him this long. She’s always been very capable.

 

Titan Seltan claps his hands. “I agree wholeheartedly with Titan Sirou. If one, then all. What are we waiting for?”

 

There goes another one who doesn’t realize Neith and Uncle are pulling his strings. He’s so lost in his grief he doesn’t realize Adela died at Neith’s hands. If he knew, he wouldn’t be such an outspoken supporter of the Reffour’s plans.

 

My embarrassment stretches into ire as I watch Neith quietly while her puppets argue. I almost lost my life trying to keep her safe and learned how devious Uncle truly is. Still, they aren’t the only devious ones. All around me are people with a glorified sense of self but no sense of selflessness. I used to be just like them, mindlessly living within a slow-burning system that kept us all in a cage. None of these great families realize the flame has burned to ashes.

 

“Hey you, you’ve got a dazed expression on your face again. What are you thinking about?” Acri whispers.

 

I give him my best version of a smile. “I’m just a little tired is all.” He squeezes my hand before turning back to the council.

 

“This is a waste of time. Legalization of the Phalanx is inevitable,” Acri says softly

 

“Why inevitable?”

 

“Because we can’t go back to that time before we knew they existed. Not after Nome Cyra attacked the Reffours and definitely not after the rebels attacked our own with surface-to-air missiles.”

 

“You’re saying the very presence of Phalanx units is enough to legalize them?”

 

Still staring at the council, he squints in thought. “In a way, yes.” He faces me and rubs his chin with long fingers. “The safety we once knew is gone and the Phalanx are the one proven tool at our disposal to use against enemies regardless of whether they come from a nome or the Lesser Lands.”

 

His explanation is beyond reproach despite my instinct to argue. A nome attacking another the way the Cyras did has been unheard of for centuries. That, coupled with what happened at Fenix, and now the murder of so many Sirous, I’m afraid the nomes have found an excuse to ignore the Pact’s rules on soldier acquisition. Additionally, they now have a rallying cry against the rebels. And finally, they have the perfect weapon – the Phalanx.

 

I warned my Minim contacts of this very fact the minute I returned home to Pernold yesterday. They each swore the organization had nothing to do with the missile attack. Hearing that left me justified in having resisted the accusations leveled against them. Nonetheless, a troubling question remains unanswered. If Minim wasn’t behind the attack, then who was?

 

“Ladies. Gentlemen.” Titan Kriel rises to his feet. He pins Neith with a dark look. “I understand the concern, believe me I do. Even I was nervous to come here today. However, I am highly uncomfortable with the prospect of pushing through the legalization of these robots without adequate consideration of the matter.”

 

He swings his gaze from Neith and looks to the rest of us. His expression softening as he says, “Are we certain the rebels are responsible for the missile attacks? Where could they have gotten the weapons from?” He spreads his hands as if his argument is obvious.

 

“Why, the Cyras, of course!” Titan Seltan quips, barely able to contain his contempt.

 

“We may never know until we find the traitor, Goran Cyra,” Titan Kriel continues, not bothering to look Titan Seltan’s way. “Goran must be punished for what he did to Nome Reffour. Once the punishment has been meted out, we can deal with the rebels for attacking the Sirous.”

 

“Why must we wait until Goran has been punished to address the injustice suffered by Nome Sirou?” Titane Opitz asks. Her right hand drums four onyx-painted fingernails into the council table’s alabaster surface.

 

“Exactly. With the Phalanx, we can take care of all the issues at the same time. Isn’t that correct, Nabo?” Titan Nikan asks. He’s on the other side of the room slowly rubbing his beard.

 

“Agreed.” This voice I recognize. “In a matter of days, I almost lost one of my children twice and in both cases, the Phalanx saved her,” my mom says and I cringe. She should have spoken up so forcefully after Loic’s mother killed Mehrdad. Instead, Titane Carre sits at the council table. No electronic bolt spits current at her wrists. This, despite the Pact’s “a life for a life” requirement. Her freedom is one more example of the rot in the nome system.

 

Karax once told me, “‘The nomes violate human rights every day in the name of profitability, only claiming the mantle of equity and justice when it applies to their favored few.’” I’d always argued with him on this point, but I no longer can. For convenience sake, the laws are flushed down the drain. For convenience sake, my life can mean little to those I thought valued me.

 

“Those same Phalanx can be deployed the minute credible information on Goran’s whereabouts is received. And they are available when we decide exactly how to deal with the rebels,” Mom continues.

 

So she thinks. I told her how some of the units failed to obey their orders during the missile attack. She brushed away my concern that they might not be a reliable source of protection. She countered that Uncle Nabo would have told her if anything was wrong with the Phalanx. I glance his way. He’s watching the ongoing debate with one eyebrow raised. That man showed no remorse for the fact I almost died because of his thirst for revenge. I’m not so sure he would alert us to any problems with his machines.

 

“With all due respect, Titane Mezan, it doesn’t change the law. These Phalanx soldiers are a clear violation of the Pact,” Titan Kriel says, giving mom a wan smile.

 

“Actually, the Pact bans the secret aggregation of human soldiers—” Neith starts.

 

“Human or otherwise,” Titan Kriel whips his head at her, “the very spirit of the law has been violated. Our ancestors wanted us to keep such technology in check which is why they spoke of human soldiers.” He eyes Neith before continuing, “As the Arbiter suggests, nomes are to publicly amass their security forces. It is why we have an annual Synod where every other family can keep track of the other’s purchase of new soldiers. These Phalanx were created in secret and unleashed without even a basic discussion—”

 

“Without them, many more would have lost their lives during the Cyra attack and yesterday’s assault,” Neith says, her voice steady but she’s rubbing her hands on her thighs. She doesn’t do it often, but it’s a sign she’s nervous. Good. She should be.

 

“Regardless, I am not comfortable taking a vote until I have consulted with my advisers and reviewed the Pact. Only after doing so will I be convinced on how to vote.” Titan Kriel says through gritted teeth.

 

“Hmm,” Acri scoffs at my side. “I never realized Dren could be so petty.”

 

“What do you mean?” I ask.

 

“He’s only delaying the vote to frustrate your friend.”

 

I look back at Dren and then look at Neith who is speaking. He gives her a sidelong glance which can only be described as hostile.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Oh, he said as much the night I left you with Neith. We’d gone out for drinks and he confessed he hates Titan Reffour. He wouldn’t tell me why though.”

 

And here I thought Dren had good intentions and wanted to honor the Pact. What was it Neith said yesterday about the Cyras not acting alone?

 

Raised voices from the table snatch my attention. Titan Seltan and Titan Sirou are on their feet with Adela’s father pointing accusatorily at Titan Kriel. Other council members jump to their feet as well.

 

Neith also rises from her seat at the head of the table. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” she calls but the rest of the table continues their shouting match.

 

I can see it on her face. A growing fear. It contorts her features into a scowl. She realizes she’s losing control of her meeting. If she’d wanted the Phalanx to pass today, she can see the process won’t go as smoothly as intended. She blinks rapidly and then angles her head to the left. Uncle Nabo.

 

From here, nothing in his expression changes, but when next I look at Neith, her face is hardened.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” she repeats. This time, her voice is hard and it rises over the commotion. She’s found her steel and I fear for anyone who doesn’t step out of the way.

 

“We are not base creatures who bicker. We are the Group of Twenty and we will behave accordingly.”

 

She might be the youngest person at the table but her words strike a tone every single Titan and Titane understands. They all take a step back. Those standing lower themselves into their chairs. Titan Sirou, with his plump cheeks, looks properly chastened. Titane Yetun gives Neith a playful smirk, clearly amused.

 

Neith waits a few more seconds before adding, “While I don’t agree with the delay, let us give the new Titan the extra time he needs to … consult with those who will guide his way.”

 

Mom snickers at the obvious jibe as do many in the audience. Titan Kriel showed his youth with his remark about needing to consult with others before a decision.

 

“In the meantime, we shall create a standing human army which will respond the minute Goran Cyra is found. Surely, Titan Kriel,” her voice honeys, “you will support this effort with most of your forces. How many do you have?”

 

Titan Kriel’s eyes are now slits. “Three hundred and five—”

 

“Three hundred then,” Neith says and moves on to the next council member, Titan Damil, who volunteers some of his own forces. When she’s done with the table she looks out to the other nomes, and the process continues swiftly.

 

Once done, Neith says, “Thank you all for contributing soldiers to the effort.”

 

I should feel relieved to know this Phalanx matter isn’t a done deal, but I don’t. There’s a niggling fear in my chest.

 

“This won’t stop anything, will it?” I ask Acri.

 

“Nope. Those Phalanx will be legalized whether Dren Kriel likes it or not.”

 

“I take it you would vote for the Phalanx?”

 

“Yes,” he answers with no preamble and I can’t help but frown in disappointment.

 

“Try and understand, my primary focus is the safety of the people I love. If the Phalanx make that possible then the Pact will have to accommodate today’s realities.” He swallows and takes my face in his hand. “Listen, when I heard what happened to you yesterday … I was terrified.” His brooding tone and expression become more solemn. “It made me realize a few things …”

 

“Thank you. That concludes our meeting. Let us hope we will do the right thing before these terrorists strike us again.”

 

Neith’s voice cuts into our conversation, and I’m grateful because it gives me an opportunity to look away from Acri’s warm brown eyes. They remind me too much of someone else.

 

Chairs scrape across the marble floor as people rise to their feet. Several approach Titan Sirou and others walk over to his daughter, Xana. Her shoulders and blond tresses quake as she cries into a lace handkerchief, surrounded by well-wishers.

 

Whatever Uncle Nabo is saying to Invier’s mother causes her face to pinch. No doubt, he’s trying to force her to rally with his side in what will undoubtedly become a battle to validate the Phalanx. Her family has moved up in the rankings, what with the Cyras out and a new nome in. I wonder, will Nome Floran align itself with the Reffour-group or the Kriel-group? If Invier were here about to marry Neith, the answer would be straight forward and his family’s support would be firmly behind the new AI soldiers.

 

The thought of a world where the Phalanx are allowed to exist scares me. Not because they would hurt me, but because they would shatter any chance of reasonable discourse between the nomes and the rebels. The soldiers are a force of limitless power that will be used to destroy all voices of dissidence and that means the poor will never see better conditions. My hands tremble at the thought. I’ve seen the way Lesser Landers live and it’s not right.

 

I can’t let the chance of a better, fairer world slip through our fingers.

 

Not when we’re so close.