THE JOYFUL SPIRIT OF THE LONGHOUSE HAD RETURNED. MORE VILLAGERS wandered in to meet the warriors. Their conversation filled the space as they shared stories and bonded over the hard work. Sam and Aris arrived together. The center tables were filled with roasted meats and vegetables, freshly baked bread, ale, and wine. The small village band stood at the front of the longhouse playing music made for dancing. Thoughts of the Imperium were worlds away in that moment. The village relished in their united effort to bring in the harvest in record time. They achieved an impossible feat. That should be celebrated, and they did. Before Sam had a chance to sit down, Aris extended his hand towards her. “May I?”
She smiled and placed her basket down. “I love dancing.” Together they moved towards the dancing crowd. Milius sat not far away, swigging ale and eating a hearty stew of mutton. They spotted Hagen approaching and raised their goblet. The old man winced as he sat down with his own large goblet of wine in hand.
“You were good out there,” he said to Milius. The warrior wiped their mouth with a cloth and nodded. Their eyes softened with thought. “I come from a world much like this.”
Hagen searched their face to clarify that what he saw in their eyes would give him hope for Veldt. “What became of it?”
Milius took a large gulp of ale before answering. “The very thing we came to prevent. I look at this village and its people. I can’t help but to think of my own home. The ones left behind.”
Hagen opened his mouth to speak as a song played by the band ended. He was interrupted by Sam. “Everyone… If I could… I’m sorry, I just…” The room quieted as she spoke and Aris lay her basket on a table next to her. She managed a shy smile and fiddled with her fingers in front of her as she had the attention of everyone. “I… I wanted to well… to welcome our new friends. I wanted to give you these small gifts I’ve made. I know that you all come from places much richer and more sophisticated than here so I hope they do not insult you with their simplicity. But I’ve made them with gratitude.”
Her eyes trailed to the basket and a beaming Aris. She unpacked her basket with the sewing project that had taken most of her free time outside of the fields. There were stacks of cloth, banners. She took a deep breath for confidence before speaking again.
“When I first saw you all ride into our village, I felt General Titus was like the grand mountains themselves. Strong and unmoving.” She took the banner from the top of the stack and handed it to General Titus. The image was a handstitched brown and green mountain that fell into a V-shaped valley. Blue threads recreated the river. He smiled and nodded with pride before bowing his head to her. She walked back to the table.
“Tarak, your spirit is untamable, but your nobility is undeniable, like the snow elk.” Sam handed Tarak a banner with a large elk. Its head was held high with sharp antlers and its body took the entire width of the cloth. Tarak also gave her a bow and touched it to his chest. She raised another banner.
“Our own Den is like the land beneath our feet rising to defend us.” Den moved through the crowd to meet Sam. The image was of a fertile field with the large Mara overhead.
Den took the banner. “Thank you. And I will defend this land until my last breath.”
Sam took the rest of the banners off the table. She raised one with a large sun over a meadow of flowers. “Young Milius shines as the sun upon our faces. Warming us and bringing us comfort. Steadfast and true.” Milius stood to receive their banner. They pressed a balled fist to their chest in gratitude and smiled.
Sam moved to Nemesis sitting on a bench. “Nemesis, fierce as the storm with its flashes of lightning but with its life-giving rain. That is the source of life. The storm is the mother of us all.” Eljun took the banner from Sam and laid it in Nemesis’ metal hands. Tears welled in her eyes with this gift from the heart. A bright yellow bolt in the center looked striking on the black background of clouds. She bowed her head in thanks towards Sam.
Three banners remained in Sam’s hand. “Gunnar, you are our heart. You give us hope.” The banner was an image of the longhouse. She looked to Kora, who stood next to Gunnar. “And Kora. You are our guardian wolf with bared teeth. You stand between us and annihilation.”
Kora took the banner in her hands. Her fingertips touched the image of a wolf’s head. Its teeth were bared and eyes yellow. She smiled and paused, gazing into her friend’s eyes before embracing her. For the first time, she felt like she belonged to a family again. When Kora pulled away, Sam held up the final banner. “And the strength of us all together. Our fate is bound.” It was an image of a bundle of sticks held together by a red string. The cosmic fate that brings individual timelines together.
The crowd erupted into cheers and the band began to play again. Aris placed one hand on Sam’s back. “You were amazing. I think you deserve one too. You have this way of touching people. It’s healing… like magic.”
Her cheeks bloomed with pale pink. “Another dance would be just fine.” Aris held out his hand and led her towards the band, where Den had two young women coaxing him to dance whilst they both flirted with him. Eljun had his feet on top of Nemesis’ boots as they danced together. His little moon-shaped face glowed with pride. Tarak spun Hervor around then pulled her back by her waist towards him again. Her fingertips glided over his tanned bare arms. They locked eyes as their bodies moved hip to hip in sync with each other and to the beat of the music.
Kora remained where she stood, observing the villagers and warriors. Feeling the rough cloth in her hand made her want to go back in time and kill Noble all over again. Yet, she felt a sense of bittersweetness at this place she hadn’t meant to find whilst on the run. Gunnar had left her side but now walked back with two steins of ale. Her heart ached at the sight of his strong jawline and the thick hair on his face that made her squirm with delight when it brushed against her thighs and neck. He handed her the stein. “You looked like you needed something to drink.”
“Did I?” she quipped.
“Yes. And I thought maybe after you finish that we could…”
“Could what?”
“Whatever you want.”
She brought the mug to her lips and guzzled the ale without a break. Her eyes locked with his. She licked her lips then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The desire in the moment bubbled like ale foam. Their moment was interrupted by the sound of the longhouse horn ringing to the rafters. General Titus stood in the front of the room, holding the horn. He scanned the room as it quieted down then cleared his throat and removed his hat. His voice held the dusty gravel of the Colosseum floor and the dark depths of space. There was longing with every note as he sang a ballad from his home. It was a loving plea to the ancestors, his mother, and the god of his people to send courage and blessings. May the love felt be a protection.
He bowed his head with claps from the crowd. Aris turned to Sam and looked into her eyes when the song finished. He whispered, “Shall we get some fresh air?”
“Okay. We can look at the stars for a little while.”
The two walked to the granary and climbed onto the roof with a ladder leaned against the wall. They sat side by side. It was a clear night with the two moons nearly full. “What was your world like?” asked Sam.
Aris looked to the sky with memories flooding back. Most were good, but the only way he had survived this long was by not thinking much about his home. “More moons. It was beautiful.” He exhaled a deep breath as he said this with the sorrow and longing inside of him like the song Titus sang.
“Is it not beautiful here?” she asked as she looked him in the eyes and he matched her gaze.
“Yes it is. There are many things I find beautiful here.”
Sam averted her eyes and gave him a shy smile with these words. “If we survive… when all of this is over… will you stay?”
He touched her hand and she turned to face him again. “If you will have me. My world is not what it was. Nothing left for me there.” With the gravity between them finally becoming too dense to stop or deny, Aris leaned towards Sam. Their lips met and he kissed her tenderly. “I hope that wasn’t too forward,” he said.
“It wasn’t.” Without any hesitation she kissed him back.
* * *
Noble stood in front of the large window in his private quarters. He hated being tested, being doubted. Bringing Kora to justice would prove his worth once and for all. It was an undeniable feat of excellence. The one and only time he had failed was the worst and the best thing to happen to his career, because he learned what it truly took to achieve greatness. His thoughts wandered back to those years after the Academy.
* * *
Atticus Noble knew his new assignment was a test. After leaving the Academy, to everyone’s surprise, he didn’t do as spectacularly during his first campaign as thought. He was so sure of his abilities and couldn’t wait to make a name for himself without his father being mentioned. It was his time to take over the glory of the family name. Unfortunately, Cassius and he were sent to separate campaigns. Noble was stunned and humiliated. His father even more so. Both parents looked at him with hardened glares when he returned to Moa. However, he was used to that. Both were exceptional in their military achievements. They expected nothing less from him. Noble was a necessary vessel for their DNA, nothing more. He felt the gravity of that his entire life.
His father. Dominic Noble, stood well over six feet tall, his body a chiseled frame that he took pride in. His food intake and exercise were precisely monitored to maintain optimal health and longevity. He had few enhancements because he relished the challenge of pushing himself to the limits as he aged. When he walked into a room, people noticed. His hollowed cheeks and deep sockets for eyes gave him the look of a phantom in uniform that had arrived to deliver a grisly death to the first person he encountered. “Do you know what people are saying about you… us? It is an absolute disgrace. And unless you do something it about it… you’re on your own.”
All Atticus could do was stand there and take in his father’s words without protest. His anger and humiliation made him want to reach out and grab the old windbag by the throat until he turned blue. But he couldn’t. “What do you suggest I do, Father?”
His father smirked. “There is one place. Maybe you will survive and maybe you won’t… We need to make contact with the Vori.”
Atticus’ eyes went wide. “But they…”
His father stomped towards him. “Don’t give me excuses, boy. I heard your excuses as to why you failed. Do you think I got where I am by allowing others to get there first? You need hard lessons. This is your first.”
“May I request Cassius to accompany me?”
Dominic’s face screwed. “What for? Absolutely not. This is down to you. You have to prove your worth or there won’t be any more help from me… ever.”
Atticus knew if he didn’t come back alive from this assignment, no one would care. You weren’t special in the eyes of the Imperium unless you made it so. People killed and lied to climb the ranks. And many more died during their service. His father might even be relieved. If he failed now, both his parents would shun him. He had to live up to the Noble name.
“When do I leave, Father?”
“In two days’ time, so don’t get comfortable.” Dominic left without any further words. It was all down to Atticus now.
The destination was a world known for its organized criminality far from the Motherworld, a place no one wanted to go to. You were lucky to make it out alive. It was under Vori control. The environment on the planet was just as hard as the people who ran it. Winters covered the planet for eight months out of the year. Four of those with blizzard after blizzard. Those who could leave during the harshest months did so.
The Imperium couldn’t threaten the Vori, they killed their own without mercy and operated all over the universe. Shutting down their businesses and influence would mean they would have to be hunted down one by one. It was more trouble than it was worth, because the Vori didn’t feel the need for heroics or rebellion when it came to the Realm.
The royal family who unified the planet Dobro under one crown had been slaughtered centuries before by the founding fathers of the Vori, who established a tight grip on the people and the planet. All formal religion was banned. The Vori expanded throughout the known universe in pockets of crime from Daggus to Providence. Now Noble had to broker a deal with the Vori to help them retrieve hard-to-find resources that had been already stripped from Moa and other known worlds. The Vori had eyes everywhere and deep pockets. The Hawkshaws were great bounty hunters and the Vori were masters of the black market with a penchant for brutality. Nothing was sacred.
Noble was escorted from his transport by three burly bald men in thick coats. All had misshapen knuckles with fat callouses. One of them had a nose that had to have been broken at least a dozen times. going by the odd shape of the bridge. None of them had the whites of their eyes dyed red. Apparently when the Vori first began, having bloodshot eyes from the initiation proved your worth. People knew you had passed into their ranks with a solid beating by the toughest. Today, only the bosses within the organization could carry this honor. However, the red was a type of permanent tattoo and not from a fight. The thugs next to Noble would probably die before they ever got to that point.
Gregor lounged on a sofa covered with bear skins. His blond hair was slicked back and ended just below his earlobes that both had small gold hoops. He sucked on a hookah, filling the air with eddies of smoke. What should have been the whites of his eyes were red, with a tattoo to match, to mark each stage of his career with the Vori. The black-collared shirt he wore covered most of his tattoos, except for black tendrils that crept up the side of his neck and ended at his jawline. If Noble had to guess, he’d say Gregor was about his father’s age.
He looked up at Noble, but didn’t rise from his seat. The guards moved to the door. “Sit down. This isn’t a place of ceremony or fake pretense.”
Noble gave him a nod and sat on an armchair in front of him. “Thank you for accepting this invitation. We have much to discuss about a mutually beneficial partnership.”
Gregor grunted before speaking again. “What does a skinny pale kid from a rich family from Moa know about negotiating, or fighting? What do you know of pain and blood day in and day out?”
Noble kept his cool. “I have fought. In fact, I just came from my first campaign. But this isn’t about me… the Vori are strong. But not stronger than the Imperium. Do you have a Dreadnought?”
The gangster narrowed his eyes. “No, but we know how to make your life hell. The Vori are everywhere. You can’t shoot us all down like you do peasants on other worlds. We would still exist elsewhere. I know how your regent works. We have done nothing to rebel, we only want to conduct our business our way. The Vori do not have partners, only associates.”
Noble looked at the high vaulted ceilings and gold altar of what was once a cathedral to the planet’s original religion. The building was now filled with weapons hanging on racks. “Why are we meeting in a church?” asked Noble.
“Not a church anymore. Those silly ideas died with the priests and the royals who used it to control the people… something your people may know about. We put an end to that long before your king. No, this is a place of business. A place where we worship what really matters in this universe. The only authority here is us. Some smoke poison root ash and others believe with all their being in something they can’t see. Magic. Both are drugs for the weak minded.”
“Well, the Realm is very real. And the slain king deserves respect.”
Gregor leaned closer. “You cannot intimidate me and neither can a dead monarch. I have no faith. Only this life, its pleasures and pains. Then there is death. So we do what we want.” He stared at Noble and searched his face as he sucked on the hookah and blew smoke in the air. “Now, why are you here?”
Noble remained stoic, wanting to cough from the smoke, but stifled it. He couldn’t fail. Wouldn’t fail. “I come here with a list of materials we wish to procure. There are resources we no longer have readily available. Some are extremely rare. We recognize your abilities in trade.”
Gregor tossed the hookah aside and rose to his feet. He was easily a foot taller than Noble and twice his weight. “Come. There is a fight tonight. Lots of betting. If you feel like wetting your prick, then there is whatever you prefer.”
The three bodyguards looked towards Gregor and he gave them a nod. They led the way out of the main vestibule with Gregor and Noble following behind. Once out of the cathedral and into an attached newer annex, they passed a room with a small port window. Noble stopped and his eyes widened as he showed his disgust at the sight. He could hear chirps and slapping coming from inside the room. Gregor stopped next to him. “It takes a certain… appetite to really enjoy the Twins. But when you do you will never forget it. They are at a select few pleasure emporiums, but mostly with private owners.”
Noble looked back at Gregor, who chuckled as he walked on towards the transport bay with the bodyguards waiting for them.
They traveled through the city in an armored all-terrain vehicle. The city appeared colorless except for the remining bright spires of the old cathedrals. The Vori didn’t bother repainting the ones that had been stripped of color from the harsh weather. New buildings were being erected, but were not aesthetically pleasing. They were functional. Long lines of citizens snaked on the pavements as they waited to receive their rations before returning to their duties. None of them smiled. Noble realized they had already been beaten into submission by the Vori. There was nothing the Imperium could do to them they hadn’t experienced before. It was the ones who called the shots he had to charm.
The building they stopped in front of had the appearance of a bunker. The solid concrete rectangle with no windows looked more like a prison than a place of leisure. The bodyguards got out first, then Gregor and Noble followed. They didn’t need to do anything as a mechanical eye scanned them before the double steel doors opened. It smelled of smoke, strong alcohol, and sweat. Fighters of all genders battled in metal cages. No weapons allowed, but no move was forbidden.
Viewers sat at tables while waiters and waitresses in little clothing offered drinks on platters. Some tables had hookahs attached to the side. Most of those seated wore expensive clothing and shoes. Watches and jewels were on show on necks and wrists. Bets were made by tapping on a console on the tables. Those sitting further back could watch the fight on their tables via hologram. Gregor had a booth at the very front. Blood sprayed across the floor. Noble looked at his feet, watching his step. Gregor laughed at him. “Afraid of a little blood? Surely not?”
Atticus straightened his uniform. “No. I am not. I’ve taught those who think they can best me lessons before. Just wondering how this doesn’t get in your drinks.”
“Don’t worry, boy. We think of everything. And fighting in the real world, not the Academy, is different.”
Noble sat down and watched two women pummel each other with their bare fists. Each had a split lip and patches of hair missing. He thought back to the hungry citizens standing in a docile line on the street for rations. He turned to Gregor. “How do you keep order here? What does it really take to break not just an individual, but many?”
Gregor took a glass from a tray and slapped the ass of the waiter wearing tight trousers. “It’s simple. Be willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want without mercy. Sacrifice your mother if you have to. If you have a best friend, don’t let them know they are as expendable as the next person. And every skin except your own can be handed over. Take what you need from people and places then move forward. Make a name for yourself and let it speak for itself.”
Noble nodded. He knew of someone like that: Balisarius. “Thank you for that advice. I shall take it in serious consideration. Now, about our business.”
“When do you need to leave?” Gregor asked without looking at him. He watched the fight as the two women screamed on the ground while still exchanging blows.
Noble was taken off guard by this question. “I have been instructed as soon as possible. However, I do not want to leave here without what I have asked for.”
“Stay here for eight months with me. You will learn more than that damn school for sheep disguised as soldiers.”
Noble glanced at the fight as one of the women screamed in agony. Her arm was broken behind her back with the victor sitting on her thighs, both her eyes almost shut and bloody. A man speaking in a language he couldn’t understand stepped into the cage and held up the winner’s limp arm in victory. Medics soon rushed in to see to the crying woman with the broken arm. He turned back to Gregor. “And if I do this?”
Gregor clapped with the rest of the crowd then turned to Noble. “Then you will get what you want, perhaps more. I have questions for you too, though. I do not keep you here out of the kindness of my heart or charity. Nothing is for free. But you will be treated like my guest as long as you respect our authority and ways of doing things. It is not up to you to judge.”
Atticus thought of returning to his family and the Imperium, delivering exactly what was expected of him and more. The disastrous campaign would be forgotten and he could take up a place more worthy of him and his family name. His parents would rethink their disappointment in him. He would stay with these outer world gangsters. What was the worst that could happen? He would be a guest.
“I will stay. Thank you for the invitation and hospitality.”
Gregor waved over the waiter he liked. When the waiter was tableside, Gregor grabbed the bottle of clear spirits from the tray and an extra glass. “Good, Atticus Noble of the Imperium. We will celebrate tonight. I expect we will get through this all.” He lifted the bottle. Atticus watched Gregor fill his glass to the top. “Thank you. I feel we will learn much from each other.”
Gregor lifted his glass and gulped the alcohol. Noble did the same, but drank slower and couldn’t finish it. He winced and smiled. Gregor shook his head and chuckled. “Oh, what you will become when we are done with you.”
Noble shadowed Gregor for three months, through grotty prisons with people sleeping on shit-stained mattresses, swanky clubs where every taboo was indulged, and barren fields unable to yield a decent crop. But as Gregor liked to say, “hunger makes everything cheap”. The dark atmosphere and even darker streets depressed him. At night, packs of wild hound-like creatures roamed the streets feasting on vermin. The decrepit buildings with peeling paint they traveled to for business purposes were the worst he had ever seen for any population. But there was no dissent. The Vori had crushed any shred of hope in their citizens. They were happy with whatever scraps they were given and readily joined the Vori ranks to have a better life.
However, he hadn’t received any of the promised information. The messages coming from the Imperium were impatient and curt. His own impatience was building day by day, but he knew he couldn’t approach Gregor just yet. The man instilled a fear in him. He hated yet admired that. It was a quality he wanted for himself. Gregor’s presence demanded attention. His male and female lovers came and went and sometimes joined him in the room forbidden to Noble. It was where the Twins were kept. The sounds emerging from the closed doors filled Noble with fascination. He dreamed about what pleasures could be experienced.
Noble slept comfortably in Gregor’s home. He knew he was being monitored at all times, but never did he feel threatened.
“Get up!” shouted Gregor as he burst through Noble’s bedroom door that didn’t have a lock. Bleary eyed, Noble looked towards the door. “What is the meaning of this?”
Gregor stood before him, dressed and freshly shaven. The scent of his cologne was only that strong when he had been up all night at the battle bars. “To see what you are really made of.”
Noble got out of bed and dressed as Gregor watched. For a moment he wondered if this was the end of him. Did the Imperium do something to threaten the Vori and he was the sacrifice? Even if that was the case, there was nothing he could do. He was trapped.
Two stout bodyguards in thick animal-hide coats stood outside his door. Gregor led the way through the hallway and Noble followed. The bodyguards were not far behind Noble. Something was definitely up. A transport vehicle was waiting, as was the freezing middle-of-the-night air. Again, he had no choice but to follow. They drove in silence for fifteen minutes until the vehicle stopped in front of a building similar to the one they went to when he arrived. Gregor turned to him. “Never walk away from anything. You finish it without mercy. Today you prove you deserve to live another day and are worthy of what the Vori have to offer.”
“I am.”
Gregor got out of the car with his bodyguards and walked towards the door. Noble knew this would be some sort of test, but what he did not know. The doors automatically opened. It was another club like the one he had been to when he first arrived. Inside were five shirtless men covered in pink scars that made various designs, serving as tattoos. They also had actual black geometric tattoos on various parts of their bodies. They looked at Noble with blood-red eyes. In the center of the ring was a man tied to a chair. He wore a torn Imperium uniform and no boots. The soles of his feet were shredded. His head was covered in a white helmet that only left room to breathe through the mouth.
“This man destroyed my property. He owes me, but he is from a noble family. You must get information from him. I want to know about his father’s mining on Daggus.”
“Why me?”
“You will find out in a moment.”
They walked into the ring. Noble glanced back at Gregor. He cocked his head towards the bound man. “Touch the side of the helmet.”
Noble did as directed. The helmet turned translucent. His eyes widened. It was a man a few years older than him, a son from one of the old families of Moa. Dorn… He remembered his name.
“Atticus!” The man smiled, showing bloody teeth. He looked relieved to see him. One of his eyes was purple and blue. His bottom lip split. “Please help me. All this is a big misunderstanding. You can tell them. Things are different back home.”
Noble had to appear friendly. This much he knew. “Yes, well, this gentleman behind me feels he is owed for damaged property. I will do what I can to set you free.”
“She was only the card dealer… I was told she also did other things.”
“Okay. Okay.” Noble kneeled in front of him. “We will set this right. But first you need to offer this man something in return.”
Dorn shook his head in desperation. Sweat and condensation filled the helmet. “Anything.”
“Here.” Gregor removed a stick from his pocket. “His blood, then his eyes. The edge to prick his finger and the long end to scan his cornea.”
Noble rose to his feet and took the metal object that could have been a pen. He walked around to the back of Dorn and jabbed his finger, then moved to face him again. He held the pen horizontally. It scanned his eyes.
“What was that for?” Dorn stammered.
Gregor gave him a half smile as he narrowed his eyes. “I want the company manifest. Now I can get them,” Gregor said in a gruff voice.
“What? No. You…”
Gregor’s voiced boomed through the room. It seemed to fill every dark corner. “What? I cannot do what when you are there and I am here. I can do anything I want as long as you are there.”
Noble handed the instrument back to Gregor, who was smiling. “Now kill him.”
“No! No!” screamed the man as he thrashed in the chair.
Gregor leaned towards Noble’s ear. “I made it easy for both of you. Just swipe the right side of the helmet.”
“Please! I beg you! We are almost family on Moa!”
Noble stepped closer to Dorn. Without hesitation he swiped the helmet. It remained translucent but the mouth hole shut. The man’s mouth opened and closed as wide as his one good eye as he gasped for air and screamed. Gregor and Noble watched him die as the many shades of suffocation colored his face. Noble felt nothing, except to think, Better Dorn than my own skin. Gregor tapped him on the shoulder. Noble glanced back. Gregor held out the instrument again. “Now you.”
“What? What for?”
“I said on your arrival I wanted something in return. I want what secrets your family hold. Your parents are very high ranking. That is useful to me for avoiding Imperium eyes when needed.”
Noble knew this was the test. How deep did his loyalty lie, and to whom? If he didn’t do this, his parents would consider him a failure if he was sent back with nothing. If he did, he would betray them, yet go back victorious. Either way it didn’t change how much they loathed him. He owed them nothing. He had to do this for himself because one day they would be dead. For a moment he imagined what his father’s face would look like in that helmet. Noble grabbed the instrument and did to himself exactly as he did to the dead aristocrat slumped in the chair.
“You will be marked now. It only stings a little.”
The sound of soft buzzing moved from behind him to in front of his face. One of the shirtless men held a small box. Noble tried not to show fear. He failed. The box was ring-sized. The man opened it. Inside, a small four-legged insect-like bot jumped to life. The man brought it closer to Noble’s cheek. It jumped from the box onto his face and scurried just below his eye. Noble grit his teeth as it made tiny bites. It felt as if was burrowing into bone. He couldn’t see what was happening, only feel it. Pain seared across his eyeball, causing it to throb.
His hands curled into tight white-knuckled fists. After a few minutes, it jumped back into the box. The man held the box to Noble’s face. In the reflection of the metal, Noble could see a small geometric black tattoo had been left behind.
“We celebrate!” shouted Gregor. The man was always ready to put a substance into his body.
“And then we start work? You have what you want now and what you promised me?” asked Noble.
Gregor searched his face and narrowed his eyes. “Yes, amongst other things.”
Noble paused. “May I make a request?”
Gregor arched one eyebrow and pulled out a hempil leaf cigar. “That’s bold. You can ask.”
“I want to meet the Twins.” Noble looked Gregor dead in the eyes as he said this.
Gregor folded his arms and laughed. “I knew when you arrived you had the disposition for what they… offer. You know, if you were not one of them you could have been one of us.”
Noble glanced at the dead aristocrat being pulled from the chair by Gregor’s men. His body would probably be taken to one of the factories outside of town, never to be seen again. “Is that how it is? Such a clear division?”
Gregor grinned. His red eyes seemed to glow brighter as if aflame. “Always… You must think like that. Operate like that, and you will go far.”
Noble walked out of the building determined to be as hard as the Vori, to obtain Gregor’s secret to being a dominant leader of men. By the end of the night he hoped to open the forbidden door that led to the slithering bodies of the Twins.