Sandsa jogged through the smoke curling its way up from the road and cast a quick look around. Balconies hung alarmingly off the sides of buildings and many windows were so warped it was hard to tell if the glass had fallen from the misshapen frames or if it had first been shattered by lasgun bolts. Sandsa slowed his pace often to check the cockpits of abandoned hovercars, but soon found that a vivid yellow X painted on a vehicle meant that he would find no one inside. He sensed the energy of people nearby, though he wasn’t sure if they belonged to the Zatzat. He only needed to use a tiny, inconsequential nudge to feel out their powers, but even that minor action filled his stomach with a burbling guilt that threatened to leap up his throat and choke him.
When will I stop acting so thoughtlessly? he wondered. I can’t keep putting myself in a position where my people or the sands can hear me. They could very well steal me back with their pleas, their cries, their unrelenting demands.
The man’s reflection he saw in the rare intact glass he passed was not that of the Desine, god of the desert. A fine, light stubble was spreading over his face, refusing to slow; he could not remember the last time he’d needed to shave. The blond hair that had spent millennia never reaching his shoulders was now tied into an ever-lengthening ponytail that lashed his back as he walked. The god was someone else, someone who lurked at the edges of his mind, trying — and failing — to lure him away from Callista.
‘Vom?’ he called. ‘How are you faring after last night?’
The nightclub owner, shirtless and limping, emerged from the stairwell that was sheltering far more people than Sandsa knew were in the Zatzat gang. Vom winced and slung a hand over to his shoulder, massaging what was presumably a sore and abused muscle. ‘Warm greetings, Subofficer Bolt.’
‘What happened?’ Sandsa asked, frowning as more injured clanspeople followed Vom out onto the street.
‘The Alcazaar figured out where your Dancer got the codes to the hovercars, not that we made it hard for ’em,’ Vom said, hissing when Sandsa pressed fingers to the uneven lines that lasbolts had gouged into his back. Sandsa eased a few dribbles of his power down into the clansman, just enough to speed his body’s natural healing on its way, but not so much that it would reveal the Desine’s presence. Vom kept talking. ‘They sent more than we could handle.’
Sandsa indicated the growing crowd behind Vom. ‘But you asked the other minor clans for help. Did not enough people come?’
‘Tsi, yes, just enough,’ Vom said and then sighed, scrubbing a hand over the bristles on his chin. ‘But we could not defend ourselves. We met a challenge that cannot be overcome.’
‘Chippers?’
‘Worse,’ Vom said grimly.
Sandsa waited for him to continue, but it was a lanky woman with much lighter skin than Vom who diverged from the pack to explain. ‘We called upon the Desine. He did not answer.’
Panic drove Sandsa into his mind, into his memories, but he saw only the faces of the Alcazaar he had killed. Hovering a hand over his heart, Sandsa felt…nothing. There was a cold, empty spot inside him where he should have felt the call of his people, so close by. He had heard voices from across the galaxy mere weeks ago.
‘Perhaps…’ Sandsa hesitated. ‘Perhaps the Desine knew that you would not need his assistance.’
Vom’s expression remained stony. ‘It’s more than that, Bolt. More tribesmen and women keep pouring in from the sands — from other planets, too. They say the Desine abandoned them weeks ago, but we felt him yesterday.’
‘If this is where he was last felt, wouldn’t you come here, Vom?’ the woman beside Vom asked, her crystal-like eyes glittering in the light shed from the star overhead. ‘Subofficer Bolt — that is your rank now, isn’t it? — can you use your powers? Can you feel our god?’
Sandsa withdrew from Vom. Words piled onto his tongue only to be swallowed back to his tonsils. He wasn’t the Desine anymore. He was Subofficer Bolt of the Maria, future lover of Subofficer Dancer. Many of his people, including Vom, had made their choice first, heading for the cities even before their god had ever left them.
And what of those that arrived only after you, my son, abandoned them? His father’s voice flew in from the deserts, more pungent than anything the hot winds could have brought. Will you not return now before more of them come looking for you?
‘No,’ Sandsa said out loud, answering all questions.
‘A dark day indeed,’ Vom murmured. ‘Don’t know how we’ll make it through this war.’
‘A war that should only be between the Alcazaar and the Maria!’ the woman exclaimed, then shot an unrepentant glare at Sandsa.
Sandsa averted his eyes from hers. ‘It was my fault. They wanted me and I said no.’
‘What, you’ll fight to stay where you are?’ she asked, surprising him with a laugh. ‘I’m Diamond and you’re mad, giving up that platinum opportunity — you could’ve climbed your way up to Clan Leader in there.’
Sandsa raised his eyebrows. ‘Who says I can’t be Clan Leader through other means?’
A dangerous hush fell over the gathered clanspeople. The smoke began to clear, revealing more of the wounded among their number. Sandsa forced himself not to look at them.
I am a man. For Callista. I cannot be anything else.
Diamond stared at him. Then she snickered. ‘Sure, go ahead. If you do manage it, I’ll get you a ring for the woman Vom’s told me all about. No charge.’
‘Don’t suppose a Clan Leader has any time to be a DJ,’ Vom said, shaking his head.
Sandsa smiled. ‘I’ll still need a good place to celebrate — the Alcazaar took out the Maria nightclubs last night. But that’s not what I came here to discuss.’
‘What are you here for then?’ someone asked from the rear of the twitchy, nervous pack.
Sandsa took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of destruction. Around him, pressing against his skin, were the fears of those trying to make a living for themselves in a city fraught with peril. The Chippers could be seen moving around in their tanks but it was obvious they were not focused on keeping the streets safe. Sandsa wondered just how many people had realised that the Chippers were actually assisting the gangs.
‘How many non-Alcazaar and non-Maria clanspeople do you suppose there are?’ Sandsa asked, directing his question at the nightclub owner. ‘They would be a significant addition to a war, wouldn’t you say?’
Vom’s lips curved into a grin.
Once they were done talking, Sandsa reached out and clasped Vom’s forearm. The other man’s reciprocal grip was much tighter.
‘Take care with our lives, Bolt,’ Vom cautioned him. ‘Without the Desine on our side, we have only you to look after us.’
Sandsa bowed his head, his arm limp in Vom’s hand. ‘I will not abandon you the way…the way he did.’
***
His kisses began gently, as though they were pressed to a layer of cotton wool dividing him from her skin. But then his lips touched hers and his tongue claimed her mouth, drawing her from the comfort of sleep into the much more welcome sensations of loving and being loved. Callista smiled into his kiss and tugged at his shirt. It wasn’t until he had discarded it and was working on her own — along with the bra band — that she realised she was indeed awake and that the aches she had earned during the night were beginning to grow, though they seemed a lot less important than the fingers ghosting over her breasts.
Callista pulled him down for another kiss but his mouth evaded hers, travelling down her throat and evoking goosebumps as it went. Grinning up at her, he darted down to press his lips to a nipple, then engulfed more of her flesh in one swift motion. She gasped. His tongue swirled around the hardened nub while he suckled, causing restless heat to fill her abdomen and her hips to rise impatiently towards him.
Callista smiled at the ceiling as he transferred his mouth to the other breast. He kept two fingers rolling the first nipple between them as sparks shot down to the throbbing core between her legs. She knew he sensed her need because his hand crept down her stomach, caressing it briefly, and then slipped beneath both her pants and underwear in one easy glide.
Callista stiffened. He paused.
‘My love?’ he asked breathlessly.
She simply nodded.
He cupped his hand to her moist mound for a delicious moment, then his fingers began to search through the top of her folds for her sweet spot while the heel of his palm ground slowly into her weeping entrance. Callista moaned and felt her body sink further into the bed. She touched his mind, wondering how it was that he was so good at this, and read from him that he had known about sex for millennia and now wanted to bring that kind of pleasure to her.
Callista threaded her fingers through the ones he had left on her hip, squeezing his hand each time she pulsed for him. But his touch was still too gentle, too unsure, and though his ministrations continued for several long, torturous minutes, Callista found her hips heaving towards him, trying to force his fingers into a different rhythm.
‘Sandsa, wait, I need to show you how I like it,’ she whispered.
His blue eyes were soft and vulnerable as he gazed at her. ‘This is not pleasing you?’
‘It is,’ Callista assured him, resting a hand against his cheek. ‘But I know my body. I’ve touched myself there so I know what I…what I like. It took me a bit of time to learn how my body works so I can’t expect you to get it right on your first go.’
‘You have touched yourself?’ he asked lowly.
She nodded, then grinned when she felt the desire spark inside him. He quickly lay on his side, moulding himself along her form, and awaited her instruction. Callista took his hand in hers and pinched his index finger, then used it to draw a slick line over her hip and down to the crease formed by her thigh. She positioned him on her desperate, engorged bud then started moving his finger in a slow, circular motion. His breaths echoed hers, becoming faster and shallower as she continued to guide him. The first twinges came sooner than she expected, but she supposed it was because she was sharing this intimate act with him.
One twinge in particular plateaued and her clitoris thrummed with pleasure, sending warm waves cascading all through her body and down to her knees, making them feel weak and incapable of ever supporting her again. Just when she thought it would end, his finger pressed more urgently against her and she cried out before batting his hand away and slumping back against the pillows.
Smiling beatifically at the ceiling, Callista almost didn’t register him pulling her pants over her hips or briefly easing her upright to drop her shirt over her head. He then embraced her from behind, his chest warm through the fabric covering her back. She wondered why he’d bothered dressing her at all, because his fingers slipped beneath her shirt and drew nonsensical patterns on her stomach. Callista let her eyes drift shut.
His thoughts began churning.
Callista roused herself. Sandsa? What is it? She paused. Vom and the others. Sandsa…are you sure you don’t want to go back to them?
I love you, Callista. You mean more to me than countless, nameless others.
Callista dawdled through his recent memories. She saw him fight, saw him avoid using the god’s powers, and saw him survive. And then there were his attempts to broker alliances with the minor clans…but there would be time to discuss that later. She smiled and reached back to stroke his check but touched his lips instead. His tongue darted out to capture a digit and he suckled on her finger in a way that made her thighs tighten and her clitoris swell with returning interest. He released her finger when she squirmed and groaned, his hardness pressing into the small of her back.
Callista hesitated. ‘Sandsa, do you want…um…do you want me to…?’
She knew better than to hope she had shielded her anxiety from him. His hands grazed her thighs as he murmured, ‘I am satisfied with your pleasure this night, my Callista. There will be time enough for you to explore me with your fingers…with your mouth…because we have eternity. For now, I would simply like to hold you.’
Callista relaxed against him. ‘I love that we can sense each other this way. I never need to worry about what…what’s inside my mind. You accept all of me. But,’ she grinned, ‘easy with that eternity talk, okay?’
‘Okay…for now,’ he said, a smile tainting his words.
‘Are you always so sure you’ll get what you want?’
Sandsa’s hold on her tightened. ‘I would like to know that you will stand beside me centuries from now.’
‘And what happens to our life here?’ she asked, watching the afternoon shadows stretch their way across the floor. ‘We can’t stay on Yalsa 5. People would start to wonder why we don’t age.’
‘We can always go somewhere else.’
‘But how can I leave what I’ve made here?’
Sandsa pressed his lips to her shoulder. ‘There is no hurry. And my home is you, Callista, no matter where you are.’
You’ve given up so much for me, she thought, troubled. I should be able to give up one small life for countless lives with you.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before sleep claimed her once more. She had never felt this warm, this relaxed, this safe — and all because he was holding her, protecting her from the galaxy.
***
In her dreams, she saw a man, a stranger, and went to him.
He turned to her, revealing eyes bluer than the sky curving above him. His face was youthful, despite the lines that pain and experience had written over him, and his brown hair was streaked with dust. The lasgun on his hip was larger than Callista would ever have chosen but it suited him. He followed her gaze with his own and laughed.
‘I know you think it’s overkill, but you haven’t seen what I’ve had to face,’ he said, taking her hand and leading her down Canat Road which was constantly shifting between old and new, destroyed and rebuilt. ‘And I don’t particularly want to draw attention to myself by relying on my powers. I’ve got enough eyes on me as it is.’
Callista squeezed his hand, feeling his fingers contort beneath her grip. ‘Are you real? My son?’
‘Ouch,’ he said with a smile, flexing his hand. ‘I’m sorry I can’t linger — I need to get back to my wife.’
She turned their hands over. Four palms offered to the sky. Four palms slashed with the marks of a binding, one that transferred blood and immortality. This was her future, she realised, a time after she had accepted Sandsa’s gift.
‘Your wife…’ Callista murmured, feeling warmth flood her veins.
Overhead, the clouds groaned and grumbled with the presence of an oncoming storm. Callista glanced around, watching the buildings bow and wave like trees. When she looked back at her son, she saw that he was wearing a purple uniform, one that Callista was now far too familiar with. She lunged at him but he began to fade.
‘Why are you wearing that?’ she demanded.
‘Don’t you know?’ he asked, his words snatched away by the howl of a tortured wind.
The plea tore from her throat. ‘Don’t go! Stay here! Stay with me!’
Callista closed her eyes to avoid watching his body disintegrate completely — and then woke, Sandsa curled up behind her. It took a long time for her breathing to even out, and even longer still to lapse back into a doze.