Callista hovered in the doorway, watching Ala hunch over her desk and stab frustrated fingers into her techpad. After a couple of minutes, Ala’s red eye whirred up towards her. ‘Come in and sit down before I lose what little patience I got, Cals. Is this about that grunt, Assila?’
Callista clapped a hand over her mouth to catch the sob but knew her friend had to have heard it. Ala immediately dropped the techpad onto her desk and traded it for a bottle filled with golden liquid. Two glasses then appeared from a drawer; their cleanliness was highly disputed.
Ala indicated the opposing seat. ‘Looks like you need a strong drink. Too bad I only got this fancy shit that you gave me for my birthday. Piss weak and nothing to rave about.’
The laugh burbled from Callista, wet and uncertain.
But she sat, she drank, and then she said, ‘Assila. I had forgotten I asked you to consider her for promotion.’
Ala rested her lips on the rim of her glass. ‘What’s she got on you? I know my Cals would never let a grunt, much less a starking Alcazaar, get ahead without provin’ herself.’
Callista took another sip and winced. ‘Ugh. I don’t remember it being this bad.’
‘What? You bought this one yourself, you said it’s fruity.’
‘No, not the alcohol. The lying. Keeping things from you.’
Ala knocked back the contents of her glass, licked her lips and sighed. ‘I see. What is it? You really do have a chip after all this time?’
Callista set her drink down. ‘Assila threatened to tell the Zatzat what she knows about Sandsa. It could mean another war. One that might not be avoided even if Sandsa and I leave Yalsa 5.’
‘Stop dancin’ around and get to the point.’
‘Ala…’
‘Cals. Just tell me what the stark is going on.’
So Callista told her. Ala poured another drink for both of them. They drained two more glasses each in silence.
‘Does this make you a god?’ Ala finally demanded.
‘No! I’m human, like you.’ Except that I will live forever. Ala wisely made no mention of that. ‘You believe me?’
The Maria subofficer’s artificial eye continued to grind around in its socket, sounding distinctly disgruntled. Then Ala smiled, revealing teeth. ‘You used to look a lot happier. I thought you finally getting a guy was gonna be good for ya. Just got yourself a lot more to worry about.’
‘I am happy, Ala. I love him.’
‘Happiness and love…well, they’re like Maria and Alcazaar — one of them always loses,’ Ala said, shaking her head. ‘Probably why I can’t give that little pipsqueak a chance. Someone’s heart is gonna get stomped. And it might not be his.’
Callista stared at her. ‘You’re talking about Bock.’
‘Well, who else? The governor?’ Ala snorted and swung her legs up onto the desk, knocking over the bottle. It sloshed unhappily but didn’t dare spill a single drop in its owner’s presence. ‘Alright. How can we fight these godly fuckers? Running’s not gonna help, you know that, Cals.’
‘Sandsa can use his powers to protect us,’ Callista said, staring into her lap.
Ala thumped one heel on the table. ‘But you think he’ll feel that Kuin girl’s distress when he uses ’em and will want to go to her. Then the deserts’ll snatch him back and turn him into a god.’
‘He’s a man,’ Callista insisted.
‘Are you sure? Or do you think sayin’ it enough times makes it true?’
Callista threaded her fingers together. The stone on the ring Sandsa had given her fell to the side and scratched one of her fingers. ‘I don’t…I don’t want him to be anything else. Is that wrong? I mean, it was exciting when I first met him but…’
Ala stood up and moved around the table. She wrinkled her nose for a few seconds, then bent over her long-time friend and hugged her, muttering, ‘There’ll always be a place here for ya. Always. Even if you start to look too starking good for your age.’
‘Do you think I’m keeping him from being happy?’ Callista asked quietly.
Ala drew back and shrugged. ‘Don’t know that. I only care about you being happy. Just make sure you say goodbye to Bock. That kid will miss you more than I will.’
Callista smiled. ‘I think you can replace me in his affections easily enough.’
‘I can’t do it, I can’t risk it,’ Ala said. ‘Never had your courage, Cals.’
‘Courage?’ Callista repeated and shook her head. ‘I’m not sure that’s the word for it. So what will you do if the Zatzat start causing trouble?’
Ala chuckled. ‘Are you forgettin’ who used to lead this clan before Bolt came along, Clan Leader Dancer? We’ll be fine. Now get gone.’
***
‘Got you a flight out to some rock,’ Bock said, his legs the only part of him that was visible as he twisted his body around to inspect the bottom of the hovercar. Nearby, Kick was keeping silent, arms crossed as he watched the younger man tinker with his vehicle. ‘You’re like royalty. I’d shoot meself rather than lose somethin’ like that.’
Kick cleared his throat. ‘Look, mate, I know this is very exciting for you, me letting you fix this machine because you’re now better than me at this shit, but it’s rude not to talk to someone face to face.’
‘He is hurt and upset,’ Sandsa told Kick, keeping his voice low. ‘I do not believe there has been much permanence in his life. Callista and I leaving will not help matters.’
‘Fuck permanence!’ Bock cried, kicking a button on the hoversled he was using. He slid back into view, the scar on the side of his face stretched by his scowl. ‘What about taking care of Atsa? Huh? Who’ll keep the peace now?’
Sandsa kept his eyes on Bock as he felt a vision creep up on him. He could have fought it, but it had been so long since he’d had one that he almost welcomed it. The air shimmered around the teenager, blurring, giving way until the Bock of the future lay there, taller, wiser, older. He wore grim determination along with his fine clothes. The pin on his lapel very clearly read two letters: CL.
Sandsa smiled. ‘I imagine you are up to the task, Bock. You will not abandon Atsa.’
‘Starkin’ right.’
‘How’s he taking it?’ Callista asked, descending the ramp into the garage.
Bock immediately fired off a stream of curses.
‘Really, Bock?’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I’d have accepted all sorts of farewell gifts but that insult about my parentage is not one of them. Even if it is true.’
Bock leapt up from the ground, hurtled over, and then attached himself to her like the prickle of a hardy plant. Callista patted the young man on the back and muttered a few words to him. Whatever she’d said made him nod, an ecstatic grin tearing up his face.
‘Oh no, don’t you go giving him hope about his chances with Ala,’ Kick groaned. ‘He’ll forget to fill up the tanks in the hovercars if his head is full of lovey-dovey nonsense. Listen, Bock, you better work hard or you’ll get kicked out and have to find a real job.’
‘Holy Creator shit, he’s worse than Ala,’ Bock complained.
Callista walked over to Kick and hugged him. ‘Goodbye, Kick.’
‘Stark, I hate that gang moniker of mine — I only got it because they didn’t realise it was my last name,’ Kick said, winking over her shoulder at Sandsa. ‘I was born Kieran Kikke. So, Kieran’s a pretty good name for a kid, don’t you think? Not that you need help choosing one, of course not!’
***
‘Sandsa! Wait!’
He slowed and turned to meet Vom. He’d almost made it back to Maria headquarters, where a hovercar driven by Kick purred in the garage as it waited to take Sandsa and his family to the starship parked on the edge of the city (Atsa didn’t have a spaceport, but there was enough space outside it to make up for this). Sandsa had hoped that one last walk through the tranquil streets, one that confirmed the clans were still at peace, would make it easier to leave.
Clearly he’d been wrong.
The Zatzat man stopped short some paces away, his expansive chest heaving with the effort of forcing air into his lungs. It had been far too many years since Vom had raced across sand dunes, Sandsa noted with a small smile, rifling through his friend’s memories.
‘Bock says you’re leaving,’ Vom said, panting.
‘Don’t worry,’ Sandsa assured him. ‘Atsa City will still be a safe place for your people. We’ve arranged it so that a new ruler will be elected from the clans from now on.’
Vom nodded. ‘A sound plan. Are you going back to the deserts then?’
‘No.’
‘So you are running from your duties yet again.’
Sandsa opened his mouth, then closed it.
Vom abruptly fell to his knees and raised his palms to the sky, revealing his binding scars. ‘My Lord Desine, please, hear me out.’
‘What…don’t…’
‘I know who you are,’ Vom said, his eyes filled with pain. ‘Assila told me what she saw when you defeated the Alcazaar. You were a wild desert wind, untamed and powerful. She knew at once that you were our god.’
Sandsa frowned, thinking back to when he had stormed into the Alcazaar headquarters. It felt like it had happened aeons, not mere months, ago. But then he remembered that there had been a woman with binding scars. Why hadn’t he killed her?
‘I am a man, a husband, a father,’ Sandsa said, backing away. ‘I am nothing else, my friend, nothing more than that.’
‘We need you!’ Vom rose, his jaw so tight his lips barely moved. ‘If you will not return as our god, won’t you stay and keep us safe in Atsa? It’s the least you can do.’
Sandsa turned his head to the side, trying not to look at him. ‘You abandoned the deserts before I ever abandoned you, Vom. I merely wanted what you had. A choice.’
The heat of Vom’s bulk drew nearer. ‘Did you ever feel anything for us?’
‘I was forced to guide you,’ Sandsa said, grimacing in shame. ‘I did not…truly feel anything for my people until I met Callista. Now I care. I care about every single mortal.’
‘You didn’t care about us before now?’ Vom asked quietly.
The tear squeezed its way out of Sandsa’s eye and dashed down his cheek. He lifted a finger to catch it, studying the bead of moisture. ‘I…I am sorry. I didn’t.’
Vom’s expression lost all of its shadows. ‘Then maybe you didn’t abandon us. Maybe you had to learn to love so you could look after your people properly. Now you can return to us.’
‘I will not leave my family for the deserts, Vom,’ Sandsa told him firmly.
‘Why can’t you take them with you?’
‘I cannot have both!’
‘Why not?’
Sandsa swallowed with difficulty. ‘This is what she wants — this!’ He smacked his hands against his chest with a decisive thud. ‘Flesh and blood! I could not bear her leaving me!’
‘You were the wind that howled in the night, the sand that roughened and caressed the hands of those that trusted you,’ Vom said, shaking his head. ‘Sandsa is not my friend and he is not my god. What is he now?’
Sandsa had no answer for that. Instead, he said, ‘Do not take out your anger on the Maria or this city, Vom. This peace was hard won.’
‘Don’t worry about us,’ Vom said, indicating a young man on the footpath who looked so much like him. He had to be Vom’s son. ‘We will never abandon our responsibilities or our families. I pity you, Desine. You will always have to deny some part of yourself.’
Vom turned his back and walked away. Sandsa stood very still, unable to move until Kick leaned on the horn of the hovercar inside the garage, breaking through his reverie. Guilty, and not knowing how to discard that unwelcome feeling, Sandsa hurried towards Callista and his son.