I watched the blood crown spring to life beneath Wylie’s warm brown skin and felt a little bad about not being completely honest with her. We were the rulers of the Eden colonists now, and many wouldn’t know us, so wearing the crowns would be helpful. But I also didn’t want anyone to question me about Father’s death.
In normal times, a bonded pair would reveal the blood crown only once prior to taking over as Prem’yera—at the end of their third and final bonding ceremony. The people believed the Prem’yera awakened the crown on special occasions to demonstrate the bond between them. Upon the death of a Prem’yera, the heirs’ crowns would bloom to life.
But it was all just a bit of magic to keep the show running.
Now, though, as I rode my bike toward town, I was glad for it. No one would question me. People would assume syns had killed Father, not me.
When I reached the main street, I pulled up short, surprised by the view before me. I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Every building had its doors and shutters wide open, with a table outside of the building where a handful of people sat with paperwork before them. Hundreds of people sat at tables and chairs stretching down the center of the street, eating and talking while others moved among them—serving them? Curious.
I powered off my bike and left it at the end of the street. I wanted to walk the main street and see the state of things for myself. A sign above the door of the first building said Bedding.
The woman and boy wearing Brahmin purple glanced up from a tablet, then gasped and rose to their feet so quickly they almost knocked the table over.
“Steady there,” I said, holding the table.
The pair bowed low then stood quickly, bright smiles on their faces.
The boy’s mouth fell open as his gaze fell on my crown. “Wow,” he breathed. The woman began to speak, but the boy wasn’t finished. “Does that mean you’re Prem’yera now?”
The woman put her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Prem’yera. Please excuse my son. And, um,” her gaze traveled up to my crown before adding, “please accept our deepest condolences on the loss of your parents.”
I returned the formal bow. “Thank you,” I said to the woman before turning my attention to the boy. “And yes, I am Prem’yera.” I expected him to be satisfied with that, but he frowned. Reaching out with my symbionts, I discovered both mother and son had been activated. I thought about telling the boy I wasn’t much different from him.
“But . . . I thought the preferido had been exiled. To freeze to death in Obscuridad, and—”
“Heff!” His mother yanked him to her side and put her hand over his mouth. While Heff glared daggers toward his mother, I couldn’t decide whether to be mortified or amused. I looked to the mother for help, but she had none to give. With her eyes wide in shock, I got the feeling she just wanted me to leave so her son wouldn’t embarrass her more than he already had.
I sought for my connection to Wylie, just to borrow from her comfort, and told myself this likely wouldn’t be the last time I had to answer tough questions.
I gestured for the woman to relax, and she did, though reluctantly. “Prem’yera Wylie battled terrible creatures and impossible challenges in Obscuridad to return to us, but she is back, and I am the luckiest man in all the worlds to have her as my partner. You can tell all your friends how Prem’yera Wylie rides dragons and slays beasts.” I grinned as his eyes grew wide. “Now,”—I smiled at both of them—“will you please tell me what I’m looking at here? It appears very well organized.” I halfturned so I faced down the street.
The woman came out from behind the table to stand beside me. I noticed others crowded the doorway to the building, so I smiled at them too. The three I saw there all bowed low before meeting my gaze.
“I am Isla, Prem’yera,” Heff’s mother said. “Thank you for your kindness to Heff.”
I gave her the universal look for not to worry and faced the street again. “Tell me about all of this.”
“Well,” Isla began in that teacher’s voice all Brahmin seemed to possess, “I have to admit, I was doubtful when Birch Vaishya told us you’d appointed him captain over us all—I mean, he’s Vaishya. And young too. Some people say he was Shudra before graduating in this year’s class.”
I glanced at her, and she shut her mouth. Gulped.
“But of course, I should have known that you would not have appointed him your second if he was not worthy of the task,” she added quickly. “While we were in those caverns, he told us what to do when the . . . events . . . were over. Stars, I never thought I’d see such a sight. We watched the ships, you know. From the caverns. We had a perfect view of it all. Eden III exploding and the dragons attacking Eden V while II managed to land? Then Eden IV just coming apart at the seems like that?”
I cleared my throat.
Isla snapped her mouth closed. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Forgive me, Prem’yera.” Shaking her head as if to settle her racing thoughts, she began again. “Captain Birch organized us in the caverns. We worked together to determine needs and how best to deliver those things. Since none of us—the original citizens—”
I winced a little at that, but Isla didn’t notice. I knew the people had begun to refer to themselves that way, as if making landfall before the rest of the colonists somehow made them better, but I let it pass. Something to think about another time.
“—were injured, we decided we’d take care of all the survivors of the other ships. We honestly thought there would be more injured, but most were only banged up.” She glanced at me before continuing. “Along this side of the street”—she indicated the side we were standing on—”are living essentials. Housing, clothing, personal care items, even a place where missing family members can go to reconnect with their loved ones.”
I nodded, impressed by everything she said.
Encouraged, Isla continued. “The other side of the street focuses on practical skills and experience. We’ve organized the work into mental and physical.” She trailed off and bit her lower lip.
“Go on,” I urged.
“It’s just that, it’s so different from our caste system. Some people really pushed back against the captain’s orders, but the more I think about it, the more I think it might not be a bad thing.” She watched me, but I only waited, keeping my face as neutral as possible. Inside, I was wondering what the heck Birch had done. Had he overturned our entire social structure in one day? Single-handedly?
“He said we’d just do it for now, to help this tragedy resolve more smoothly.”
“That sounds smart,” I said.
Isla let out a whoosh of breath as if she’d been holding it in, afraid of how I might react. “Yes! Okay, so the newcomers are to check in over there and sign up where they think they can be of most use during this initial transition.
“And a couple of buildings up front serve as kitchens so we can serve the survivors a warm meal.” She pointed to the tables down the street.
“And what’s happening down there?” I pointed straight down the center of the street where a couple of tables spanned the road and flags flapped from tall posts.
“Oh! I can’t believe I forgot!” She gripped the edge of her uniform tunic and twisted it. “That’s where Birch—uh, Captain Birch—is and where everyone is to go when they first arrive. There, they receive a number and helpful instructions.” She gestured toward the two sides of the street.
I frowned. “What are the numbers for?”
Isla beamed, apparently thrilled to tell me something she had no qualms about. “For activation! The captain said that you would be here soon and would begin the work of awakening everyone’s tech. He wanted to make sure it was orderly and that no one bombarded you the way we did in the square yesterday.” She glanced down as color rose to her tan cheeks. I didn’t remember seeing her, but now I wondered if she’d been one of those eager people.
And had all of this begun yesterday? It felt like days ago—and not a wink of sleep through all of it.
Isla watched me. I nodded thoughtfully. “This is truly extraordinary.”
She beamed. I turned to her and took both her hands in mine. “Thank you, Isla. I appreciate your willingness to listen to a Vaishya and embrace something new for the sake of all. I hope there are many more like you. And thank you for your work in helping us manage this tragic turn of events.”
I left her, still thanking me for thanking her, and quickly made my way past the tables and toward Birch’s station. Many people noticed me, but few realized I wore the crown. Those that did hastened to stand and bow, but I hurried past with only a nod of acknowledgment. There was much yet left to do, and I was tired.
Birch stood when he saw me coming. He straightened his uniform—still Vaishya blue, which I had to admit, surprised me. For all I knew, he’d somehow pilfered one of my father’s black uniforms and donned it as a symbol of his power.
He appeared nervous as I made my way around the tables and came to stand in front of him. He couldn’t stop fiddling with his tunic; he tried to slick back his hair; he straightened his shoulders.
Belatedly, he bowed low, and when he stood, bright spots of embarrassment colored his cheeks.
“Birch,” I said, using my best impersonation of my father’s commanding tone. “Or should I say, Captain Birch?” I emphasized the title, and Birch glanced nervously around as if planning an escape.
When his flickering gaze finally returned to mine, I grinned and pulled him to me. I wrapped my arms around him, embracing him with heartfelt gratitude. Around us, people erupted in applause.
I pounded lovingly on Birch’s back then stepped away from him. Turning to the crowd, I gestured toward Birch, who only then realized the applause was for him. For the man who had provided leadership during a difficult time. It was for the man who had set aside castes to do his best for his fellow citizens—and to encourage them to do the same.
When Birch bent in a low, formal bow—not to me but to the people—I knew, through and through, that Birch was a truly good man.