"You don't have to take me home. I can call a cab," Iilo said while they walked back to Tom's car. "I know it's not on your way."
"No, I wanna drive you. It's a good thing the FBI's coming out tomorrow. You're officially KO'ed."
"What's that?" Iilo leaned into Tom while they walked. He was warm against Tom's side, a presence like a nearby fire, light and airy. Tom could see his car, but he didn't want to get there too quickly. He liked Iilo pressed against him like this.
"Knocked out. Like in fighting video games," Tom explained.
"Do you like those? Video games?"
"They're great stress relief. You could try one with me. If you haven't before." Tom's cheeks heated up. The cool air fought against the blush, working hard to chill his face. Warm days turned to cold nights in Nebraska. The Midwest just liked being temperamental.
"That'd be fun. But I'll bet I'm really bad." Iilo yawned, pulling himself off Tom to walk upright. "I wanna get to your car fast."
And with that, Tom's savoring of the moment was over.
In the car, Tom cranked up the heat and turned on the seat warmers. He sat with his back pressed to the driver-side door. The car moved, guiding them back to the I'na compound. Iilo sat with his feet forward, face pressed to the window.
"What're you looking at?" Tom asked.
"I like seeing the world. You think it looks the same, but then you find the little details that make it all different. The way trees grow, the houses and the people in them."
"You're a romantic. Did anyone ever tell you that?" Tom laughed.
"I thought that meant something else. Like between people?" Iilo tilted his head to the side, looking Tom's way now. His bioluminescence reflected off the windshield.
"Sometimes it just means you see beauty in the world, or some things inspire you more than most people."
"Are you a romantic?" Iilo asked.
"I like to think I'm a realist. But maybe a little." Tom cringed, thinking about the amount of pessimism he'd allowed himself to be buried under. "Or maybe I'm just an idiot."
"You're a fighter."
"A fighter, huh?" Tom crossed his arms, a smile ghosting onto his face. "I'll take it."
"I'm glad you're gonna stay with me. I was—nervous." Iilo pressed his ID to the window, his eyes fighting against sleep. "I'm glad we're friends."
"You've really taught me a lot, Iilo."
When no answer came, Tom snuck a glance at Iilo, butterflies tickling his insides. Iilo had fallen asleep.
A fighter. It was the nicest thing Tom had heard in a long time. Something so honest from someone who saw the world for what it could be, not just what it was. Iilo hoped for the future whereas Tom had lost sight of it. It felt good to feel like he'd reclaimed a part of himself he'd lost. The drive to succeed and earn squandered the drive to do good. It was easy for attorneys to lose themselves in the day to day or get bogged down by all the adversity in their profession. Tom had let it all weigh him down.
"A fighter," Tom whispered. He made sure to try to find something different about each tree they passed while the car drove on.
Once at the settlement, Tom looked over at Iilo, a hint of a smile at his lips. Iilo had passed out hard. He had the tiniest snore. Waking him would be a crime; he deserved the rest. Tom wanted to give him this moment, even if it made his hands sweaty.
Carefully, he eased Iilo out of the car, scooping him into his arms. Iilo stirred. He wrapped one arm around Tom's neck and fell back to sleep. He had weight to him, a solid body full of muscle and not just the dainty bones Tom had pictured. There was strength in Iilo, unassuming and quiet, but strength nonetheless.
Tom carried Iilo all the way to his home. He used his foot to knock into the door in hopes someone could hear it. He had no idea how thick the metal was that climbed up the spire.
Letic opened the door, his eyes flashing red before settling. He let Tom inside, grumbling in his native tongue.
"He fell asleep on the drive home." Tom put Iilo down on the couch, his fingers cold when he let go.
Iilo turned over, curling into himself.
"Big day, huh?" Inaraa asked. She leaned on the wall, arms crossed. Tom was surprised she could lean against it with all its sharp juts and uneven metal.
"We went to the FBI."
"What?!" Inaraa hissed, her body flushing pink.
Letic held his hand out to stop Inaraa before she stepped closer. "What say they?" Letic asked. He cared about what Iilo was doing. Inaraa, as a person on the Elect couldn't, but Letic did. Tom felt certain that Letic had wanted this all along. He wasn't a bitter person. He was just bitter about what was happening. Tom had been a stranger and Letic had been on guard.
"That they'll investigate."
"The Elect won't like this." Inaraa twirled her braids around her arms, tugging them in frustration. "I'll have to fight them. The FBI? Seriously? The FBI? My judgement is challenged with the Elect at every turn because of Iilo. And now you bring the FBI here?" She sighed, her face returning to its light blue. "He's not exactly the most well behaved of us. He's never exactly understood the concept of sitting still."
"If he sat still then more of you would go missing. One already has." Tom sat on the arm of the couch. Iilo was a fighter too.
"I know," Inaraa said softly. "You have to believe me—I hate what's happening here. The Elect just ignores what's happening. And the ones that agree with me suddenly change their mind the next day each time I get close to calling a vote. I've been trying to keep Iilo out of it, but then he brought you along."
Tom's ears burned. He sat up. It was almost ironic in its humor. What was mystery to Inaraa was clear as day to Tom. He saw it every day in his own politics. "They're being bought."
Letic frowned. "How know this?"
"Because that happens all the time. Politicians don't vote with their hearts; they vote with their pocketbooks. It's one of the reasons I—" Tom paused. "One of the reasons I became an attorney." A fighter. More like a fallen soldier, one who'd lost sight of who he was.
"Did it work?" Letic asked.
"Did what work?" Tom blinked, staring up at the swirling colors on Letic's head. His skin moved in a way that tricked the eye. Like water catching light.
"To fight politicians."
"Oh," Tom said. "I, uh, haven't gotten that far yet."
Letic rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen.
"Letic's over the moon. You just can't tell. He struggles with your language and his anger," Inaraa said. "He's wanted me to push the Elect to review the disappearances."
"Did you try?"
Inaraa sat by Iilo. She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. "Of course I did, but I've been trying the right way. We learned from a young age that leadership takes more sacrifice than we're usually willing to give. To do this right, I would've had to abandon my brother. Now I'm branded a nuisance like him and I can't get enough support to compel a vote on investigating. I'm sure I'll be off the Elect when we vote again." From her tone, Tom didn't hear the least bit of regret. Her love for her brother was strong, and it was as plain as the nose on her face that she'd do anything for him.
"Inaraa! Where is flour?" Letic called from the kitchen. Unlike the rest of the structure, the kitchen was covered in human-made metal and most of the appliances inside were also human-made. Spaceships didn't have personal kitchens for everyone, it seemed.
Inaraa stood up, rolling her eyes. She reached out for Tom's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for helping him."
"Yeah, no worries." Tom looked to his hand as she walked away. His heart was thumping against his sternum. He'd appreciated her gesture, but he still saw a bloodied hand as it tried to reach his throat. A memory that refused to die.
Tom gave Iilo one last look before leaving, smiling as he saw Iilo's fingers curled into the blanket, his lips slightly parted. People always looked peaceful in their sleep, but the spackling on Iilo's face shimmered and morphed, giving Tom access to Iilo's dreams. They were peaceful, even after all this.
When Tom went to sleep that night, he thought of Iilo's fingers, safe and curled into that warm blanket.