4

POLITICAL AGENDA

“AHEM.”

A discreet cough breaks us apart, and reality is swift to return once I step out of Caden’s embrace. His face is flushed, as I’m sure mine must be. I try to compose myself, knowing that we have an audience, but it’s a near futile effort as Caden’s thumb brushes back and forth on the soft flesh of the side of my arm. The connection between us is as voltaic as ever, perhaps more so. Every cell inside of me—android and human—is wired and alive and combustive at the fierce, possessive look in his eyes. I lick suddenly dry lips, and something dark flashes across Caden’s face. His fingers tighten compulsively on my arm. Although we are no longer kissing, we could still well be.

Someone in the room clears his throat. I try to move back to my seat, but Caden hauls me firmly up against his side as if he can’t stand to let me go just yet. Fighting the urge to grin like a lovesick idiot, I focus on the faces in the room, instead. I’m not surprised to see their deadpan expressions. No one—not even the Faction—would dare insult a king, regardless of their personal opinions. Except for one person. I pause at the sight of the polished, smartly attired man at the far end of the room who is staring at us with unconcealed amusement. I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before, but then again, he has one of those classic looks—dark hair swept away from his face, deeply set, dark eyes, average build—that are a dime a dozen in both worlds. I’m certain I’ve never met him before.

The man’s gaze meets mine, and though he inclines his head in a universal gesture of greeting, he arches a groomed eyebrow, an obvious commentary on my scandalous behavior with the Neospes king. My eyes narrow. His too-familiar attitude is grating.

“Madame Chancellor,” Caden says, addressing Era, and my attention flicks back to him. “Please continue with the introductions.”

“As you wish, my Lord King,” she says, bringing up a hologram of this world in the middle of the table. Like most of the others, her face is blank, betraying no emotion despite her obvious feelings about me. I’m certain that she, of all people, disapproves of the relationship between Caden and me.

After all, I’m the thing that she fears most. I’m walking, living, and breathing artificial intelligence bred into a human host. A conscious, synthetic life form—and an abomination of the worst kind. I’m hardly anyone’s choice for a royal consort. It’s not like the fairy tales of this world, where the servant gets to fall in love with the prince and become his princess. The reality is that no prince wants a clockwork princess. He wants a real-life, breathing girl—and I’m the furthest thing from that.

I’m slow to realize that without a single word Era has effectively demolished me with that careful mask. I breathe in sharply, and step away from Caden. To my surprise, he escorts me to my seat before assuming the empty one at the head of the table to Era’s left. I try to keep up with the introductions, but I’m too fragmented.

“Lastly,” Era says, gesturing once more to the hologram, “the gentleman at the end of the table is Cristobal Marx. He represents Latin America, and—” She breaks off with a glance at me, and then at Caden who nods briefly, his hand slipping down below the table to catch mine. I stare at our intertwined fingers for a second, dimly waiting for Era to continue. “And the corresponding parallel city of Avaria.”

I bolt upright in my seat, my attention riveted on Era, everything else forgotten. Slack jawed, my palm slides from Caden’s. “Wait, what?”

“Avaria,” she repeats.

“Another city?” I ask. “But the only other survival colonies are the Artok tribes to the east.” I frown, jabbing a spot on the world topology that marks the European continent, my finger sliding down to the southern hemisphere. “Down here, there’s nothing south of Neospes but ash.”

She eyes me. “Apparently not.”

I hear what she’s saying, but my brain refuses to process the information. All I know is what I’ve been taught, that we are the only human survivors and that the lower hemisphere of my world is uninhabitable. But now, those are both wrong. There are other survivors. A whole other colony we hadn’t known about.

“But we sent drones. Scouts. There’s nothing but wasteland down there. Why would they hide from us?”

Cristobal clears his throat and drums long fingers on the tabletop. “It’s one of their defense systems—holo-imagery. You see what they want you to see.” His voice is velvety, the soft trace of an accent rounding out the vowel sounds of his words.

“But why?” I repeat. “We could have traded, made connections. If they needed help or shelter, we could have provided that.”

“Perhaps they did not want or need your help.”

“Are they in a dome, too?”

Cristobal nods. “Of sorts, yes.”

“What does that even mean? Either they are or they aren’t. They can’t survive without one. No one there can.”

His smile is irritating, and I have an immediate urge to smash those white teeth into next week. “It means yes and no.”

I half rise out of my seat, fists clenching, but Caden places a warning hand on my shoulder and leans in. “Sit,” he whispers against my ear. “That’s not why I’m here. There’s more you need to know.”

I comply, my gaze flitting from Era to Cristobal to the other four watching me like I’m a ticking time bomb… which is close to reality. Even if they don’t know the truth of what I am—Aurela had made Era vow to keep it a secret—my reputation as a ruthless Vector general is probably worse. The only thing keeping me in check is Caden.

He stands to address the table. “As you know, I have come here for your help. Neospes is under attack.”

“From who?” I say, stunned. I’m batting a thousand here. First, the bombshell of another city, and now, Neospes is in danger. I’ve been so focused on finding my father that everything else has faded into white noise.

Lines furrow Caden’s forehead. “More like, from what—the Reptiles.”

“Reptiles,” I repeat. “Since when? They’ve never attacked the city walls. They’re scavengers, not assailants.”

He nods. “They’ve grown braver. More aggressive. They’re… organized. Parts of the dome have been compromised. We’ve been forced to shut down entire sectors to contain the threat. We’re running out of places to hide and people to fight.”

I frown. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come back to help.”

“You stopped returning to the castle. We waited, but then we had to act or risk losing more lives.” Caden rubs his chin. “We were too late, anyway. The Reptiles infiltrated Sectors Three and Five. We’ve had to shut them down to seal the breach.”

I’m frozen in shock and horror. The food sector and the defense sector—both would be a huge blow to the people inside the dome. My thoughts shift to my mother and her first in command. “And Aurela? Sauer?”

“They’re fine, but they lost a lot of men. We’re considering evacuating the city to the Peaks through Sector Seven.”

I think about the underground mountain sanctuary where my mother had hidden an entire rebel army from my father for years. “There’s not enough room there for everyone. It was crowded enough with the rebels.”

“At least they’ll be safe,” Caden counters. “It’ll only be for a short time until we can get reinforcements or, at least, understand how the Reptiles are able to breach the walls in the first place. They’ve never left the Outers, until now.”

“Caden,” I say in a low voice. “If we leave the city, and they take over the dome, we’ll have nowhere to return to.”

He watches me, his eyes grim. “That’s why I’m here.” He glances at Cristobal, and then at each of the others in turn. “To negotiate with the leaders of Avaria to provide asylum to our people, should it come to that. But that’s a last resort. I won’t lose our city. I’ll do anything to defend it to my last breath.”

Suddenly, all the pieces come together in a rush. “That’s why you need my father’s help. You want to reboot the Vectors.”

“Yes.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, my fists curling. “No. There has to be another way.”

“We don’t have much choice,” Era interjects. “We’ve considered all alternatives. Short of evacuating the people of Neospes here, it’s the only way we can save them.”

“So let’s evacuate them.”

“They wouldn’t survive this environment, Riven,” Era says. “You know that. Their immune systems wouldn’t be able to withstand this planet’s allergens and infectants. They would die.” My eyes flick to Caden. He’ d lived here, breathed this planet’s air for years after his mother had everted with him as a child. She’ d died. He’ d survived. The people of Neospes would likely share the same fate as his mother.

I massage at my temples. “What about Avaria? You said that was an option?”

Cristobal leans forward. “It is a possibility, once we have concluded diplomatic negotiations.” At my frown, he explains. “A diplomatic liaison is the only answer.”

Diplomatic liaison?

Caden suddenly seems more interested in dissecting the carved designs on the table than meeting my gaze. A sour feeling builds in my stomach, and I swallow. Even I’m not so naive that I don’t know what that means. I’ve only just gotten him back, and already they’re talking about taking him—no, giving him—away.

I study the curve of Caden’s collar, my words a whisper: “When were you going to tell me about your… union with someone else? Before or after you kissed me?”

His voice is gentle when he replies. “It’s a possibility, Riven. And one I have to consider for the sake of our people.”

“Our people,” I mutter bitterly.

Hardly. The people of Neospes could never be our people—I would never be their queen, standing at their king’s side. I’ve been deluding myself all along. I never should have let this relationship continue after Caden’s coronation. I should have just cut the ties between us. He’s a king now, and he shouldn’t be saddled with a liability like me.

Caden stands, pulling me to face him, and positions his body so that I’m out of view of the table’s occupants. His hands slide against my elbows. “Riv—” he whispers.

“Stop. Let go.”

Instead, his fingers tighten. “You know how much you mean to me. I’ve been lost without you.” He bends to let his forehead rest against mine. I hate that we have an audience, especially now, when he’s saying words that obviously mean nothing. My heartbeat slows, deadening inside. “But I have to do this. I have to figure out a way to keep them safe. Your mother. Sauer. All of them. It won’t come to that if we can get your father’s help. We won’t need an alliance. If we can save the dome, then none of this matters.”

“It’s always going to matter,” I say, disengaging myself from Caden’s grasp. I don’t look at him—I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll lose any resolve I’ve managed to scrape together in the last ten seconds. I turn away to address the Faction, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, you think giving a madman free rein to reengage an army of Vectors is the solution?”

“It’s our best bet against the Reptiles,” one of the other leaders says. “Fighting tech with tech.”

“And what about Danton?” I ask. “You think he’s going to build you an army, let you use it, and walk away feeling happy about his good deeds?” I stare them down one by one. “I know him. I know what he’s capable of. He’ll do as you ask because it serves his ends. You’ll let him return to Neospes. He’ll have an army at his disposal, and he will use it to kill every one of you.”

“We’ll contain him,” someone—the same man, perhaps—says.

“How?” I bang my fist so hard on the table that it rattles. “Like you contained him in Neospes? The Faction let him do whatever he wanted. He answered to no one then. You think he’s going to follow your orders now?”

“Unless he threatened the connection between the worlds we were not bound to intervene,” a tall, heavily bearded man says. “This time will be different.”

I laugh—a long, slow, hollow sound that echoes in the room. “Then you are only deluding yourselves. You want to fight one evil with another. My father can’t be trusted. He and his creations are going to turn on Neospes—and this world—the minute your puny little war with the Reptiles is over.” I glance at Cristobal, my lip curling. “Your precious Avaria will be plundered, and you won’t be able to hide, not from him.”

“I agree.” Era stands, her obsidian stare finding mine. “Which is why we want you to lead them. The Vectors.”

The room almost spins out from beneath my feet and I clutch the table for support. I can feel the nanobes rushing like a violent tide inside of me, making the edge of the table buckle beneath the pressure of my fingers. A single word escapes my lips. “No.”

“You’ve led them before, Riven. You were the youngest general in Neospes and you commanded legions of Vectors.”

She doesn’t have to remind me. The thought of going back to who I used to be fills me with an emotion I can’t bear to accept. Dread, maybe. The Vectors killed without conscience—kills that I sanctioned as their leader. But I’ d been Cale’s puppet then. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Her face could be carved from stone.

“What makes you think I’ d ever agree?” I say, bristling at the not-so-subtle threat in her voice. The tension in the room is knifelike, stabbing from all sides.

Era leans in, her voice a stinging caress against my ear. “Because you’re one of them, Riven, and because you are bound to your king.” She clears her throat and speaks in a normal voice. “Neospes needs you.”

Because you’re one of them.

Era’s words are like manacles. Of course. How convenient to bring up what I am when she needs my help. And yes, I am bound to Caden—in more ways than one. But what she means is that I am his servant. Nothing more. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, removing my heart from the equation. He is a king. In days of old, this is how alliances were forged during times of war—with political liaisons. I swallow the hurt that rises up with a bitter taste. Feelings have no place in my world anymore. They never have.

“As my king wishes,” I say in a dead voice.

“Leave us, please,” Caden commands, and although the Faction doesn’t answer to him, they depart at a nod from Era. As her wheelchair swishes past me, I swear I feel the gentle, reassuring pressure of fingertips against my wrist, but it’s gone so quickly I must have been mistaken. Era doesn’t look in my direction.

“Riven,” Caden begins. “You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this—”

“Yet, you did.”

“—if it wasn’t important.”

I blink and say nothing. Caden shifts to stand in front of me, his hand moving to slip through the strands of hair above my ear. I let him, the desperate desire to hold on to him for as long as possible overshadowing duty, and everything else. His palm cups my cheek. A thumb slides along my bottom lip. I hold myself like a statue, not daring to breathe because I know the minute I exhale, I’ll fall into him.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I manage, my voice hoarse.

“I do.”

I shake my head as Caden tips my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. What I see there is my undoing—what it has cost him to even ask for my help. He would never have considered this without exhausting every other possibility.

I exhale and nod, voicing the question tearing apart my insides. “What about the other thing? The alliance. Have you met your… bride-to-be?”

“Riven—”

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Caden. Just answer the question.”

“No.”

“Good.” I shrug and force a smile. “Well, here’s to hoping that she has warts and can’t fight to save her life.”

A startled grin transforms his face. “Come to think of it, I did hear a rumor about some particularly large warts. And I don’t need another warrior when I have you.”

I allow myself to bask in the warmth of his smile, the tender look in his eyes, for a brief moment. “This is surreal. I can’t imagine you marrying anyone.” Anyone else, I amend silently.

“It’s an alliance, not a marriage. And it won’t come to that if we can get the Vectors. I trust you more than anyone else to do this. Think of it as a mission.”

“That’s the thing—it isn’t just a mission. It’s…”

Caden’s other hand slides against my neck to cradle my face. “It’s what? You can tell me. I’ll understand, I promise.”

“You can’t understand, Cade,” I whisper. The fear behind the words nearly chokes me. “None of you gets it. That isn’t who I am anymore. I don’t… want to be anything like the Vectors. And I’m scared that if I’m around them, I’m going to lose myself. The human part of me.” A strangled sound escapes my mouth and I turn away, jerking my face out of his grasp as the memories rise up. “Oh god, Shae…”

The thought of my sister—of her dead Vector eyes—fighting me to the death, obliterates everything in my head. Suddenly, I’m on my knees. My father made her into a thing to punish me. And I’ d been forced to destroy her. Sobs rack my body, the pain battering me on all sides. How do I explain that every time I see a Vector it has my sister’s face?

And now they want me to lead them.

Caden wants me to lead them.

He kneels beside me, drawing me into a strong embrace and, once more, I let him. He strokes my hair and kisses the dampness from my cheeks, his breath feathery against my skin. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You don’t have to do it, Riv. We’ll find another way. We’ll figure it out, somehow.”

I turn my cheek to find his lips, tasting the salt of my tears on them. Caden kisses me back, his mouth slanting wide as my fingers wind in his hair, dragging his face closer. I memorize the scent of him, the taste, the shape of his mouth, and then I pull away, breathing harshly. It’s the last time I’ll ever kiss him as the girl I am now. With a fingertip, I trace his eyebrows, around his cheekbone, across his mouth. I stare at those expressive green eyes, shadowed with passion and sadness.

“I love you, Caden.” I don’t know why saying it sounds like good-bye.

His eyes widen. “I love you, too, but that’s not why—”

I press my hand to his mouth. “I know. I’ll do it. It’s the only way to stave off the Reptiles without more human loss. The Faction’s right. My father can rebuild a strong line of defense. We have to try. I’ll do what Era wants.”

“Thank you.” Despite his earlier avowal, Caden’s relief is palpable. It does nothing to assuage the sense of desolation I feel. “What your father did to Shae was inexcusable, and he will be punished for his crimes, I swear to you.”

“I know.”

Now that I need to look a murderer in the face and negotiate with him, I have to put away all emotion—cleanse it from my brain. Maybe my father has been right all along—emotion is weakness. I glance at Caden. Love is… only pain. He sees me watching and bends toward me. I slip away in a smooth motion, putting as much distance between us as I can manage. Hurt flashes across his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“You need to lead the people of Neospes, and I need to do what I do.” I smile, forcing back the dam of tears threatening to break. “We’ll figure us out later.”

“But that’s not what I want.”

“You’re a king,” I say. “What you want comes after the needs of your people.”

“Riv—”

“I can’t, Caden,” I blurt out, gesturing to the space between us. “I can’t feel all of this, and lead a Vector army. If you want me to be the soldier, I’ll be the soldier. But I can’t be both. Tell the Faction my answer is yes.”

It’s not until I’m out of the room and out of the mansion that I let the tears flow at full force. I wipe them away with shaking hands. It’s the last time I will cry.

For myself. For anyone.