Gritty dark grey basalt stone, sandstone, and swirling layers of light grey and pink granite formed each of the four walls of a room cut from solid rock. As for the means of entry or escape he had hoped to find, Eiron saw none. The rock composition reminded him of the ledge where he had crashed. That was good news, anyway. That meant he had not been taken far.
But why was Alessia here? No one was permitted to live in the Classified Zones.
Eiron’s well-trained eye took in every small detail. This new space had a lower ceiling but was easily five times the size of the room he had just left. In the center of this room a great log fire crackled and spat glowing sparks of wood, sending undulating shadows into the dark corners and onto the multi-colored, purple, grey, pink, yellow, and blue striated walls.
The strangest part was how this room contrasted with the recovery room. The floor here was nothing but grey dirt. A few primitive hardwood chairs formed a circle around a log fire, made in the center of the room, with stones around it. Nearby lay a pile of ordinary-looking dark blue blankets that appeared to serve as a bed for some creature, perhaps an animal she kept. A small, old, bright wood table by the fire held lovely ceramic jugs full of water, bandages, and multifarious glass vials large and small, possibly full of medicines. They were decorated with copper and gold with circular patterns etched in metal. He would have guessed they were hand-made, if it hadn’t been for the craftsmanship of the metallic seals.
Where does she get her provisions from? he wondered. How does she keep from starving way out here? And why does she choose to live in such a primitive condition?
A dark pot dangled from a spit erected over the flames.
“You’ve got something cooking.” He said. He began to notice the spicy aroma reaching his stomach.
“It’s for you,” Alessia said with a bright laugh. She took a seat in one of the chairs. He decided to sit beside her. “After you eat, I’ll show you around, and then you can do with yourself as you please.”
“All right,” he agreed. “I’m hungry enough to eat anything. What is it?”
“Soup.” She said. “I didn’t know what you might like, so I made something simple. Bird meat, blue groundfruit, and spices.”
“That would be great. You live here, way out in a Classified Zone,” he observed. He didn’t look at her. Her face was still covered. He ended up just watching the blaze. His body felt stiff from the sleep, but it was good to be up and awake.
“Well, and how did you get here?” she returned, evading the issue.
He smiled. “I flew, remember?”
She laughed, relieved to be in good spirits, even though what they were discussing was dangerous, not the sort of thing to be laughing at under ordinary circumstances. Eiron could be imprisoned by his superior officers simply for having been in a Classified Zone. He wasn’t at all worried about that now, though.
“What brought you here?” she asked. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone from the outside world.”
No doubt, he thought. No one ever came near the Classified Zones on purpose.
“I’m a pilot with a degree and license in Spaceship Engineering.” Eiron replied, making a sudden gesture to lift up one of the ornately etched stoneware pieces on the table. For no apparent reason, Alessia reacted to his sudden movement. She got up and went to lift up the soup. He turned to watch. She reached for the handle, her fingers gripping it too tightly, accenting her knuckles as the soft, supple skin stretched over her knuckle bone.
Her hand betrayed two things about her—one, that she was tense, that she wasn’t so much at ease as her manner suggested, and two, that she was definitely not a pure Tiasennian—for she had dark skin. She removed the soup and brought it over to the table. And that was not just trivial information.
“Isn’t that hot?” he asked, watching as she put it down.
She stopped a moment, then shook her head. “Not really.”
She served him a bowl.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” he asked.
“I will if it will make you feel better,” she said, and got out another bowl.
Eiron took a mouthful. He felt a warm, soothing sensation down to his toes. “This is good.” He said. He realized it must have been drugged from the way it made him feel, but not by anything dangerous. Possibly a healing agent. He was grateful. The sensation eased his pain, without messing up his mind. He decided not to ask what it was.
“Thank you,” she said. “It will help you heal faster, so I’m glad you like it.”
“I don’t suppose I might have my uniform back,” he said.
“I’m afraid you can’t,” she said. “I’ll have to give you something else to wear. Are you cold?”
“No. It really was that bad, wasn’t it?”
“You almost bled to death.” She said quietly. “And that was only the beginning. But, you’re eating. I can tell you later.”
“Do you know anything about the air corps?”
“You’re a Senior Ekasi.” She replied, surprising him. “I guessed as much from the winged horse insignia.”
“Yes,” he said, not knowing whether or not to laugh. “I was patrolling north of Inen before the Orians attacked me, to answer your question.”
“You’re not from Orian, but you could pass for an Orian.”
“You would know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re an Orian yourself. Why else would you hide your face?”
“I assure you I am not.”
“I won’t turn you in,” Eiron said with a slight note of integrity. “You saved my life. But it makes sense why you live out here. All the prejudice against anyone like us, anyone with darker skin—I’ve lived through it myself. I do understand.”
She laughed. “I am not an Orian.”
“You’re lying.”
“I am Alessia Aleria, the child of Nerena Naliya Aleria. And she was the daughter of General Zadúmchov—the revered leader of The Martial Scientific Force. My father was the last known Enorian colonizer. He was known as Zariqua Enassa, ‘multi-colored eyes’ on my home world, on Seynorynael—”
Eiron was staring blankly at her. He didn’t know how to react, or if he should laugh. But she was in deadly earnest, and he really couldn’t laugh at her. The more she said, the more a creeping cold shiver permeated through him. Everything about the strange things he had seen began to make a kind of strange sense. He couldn’t deal with it. He shrugged it off.
“Somewhere on Orian? I don’t want to know,” he said. He didn’t want to think she was crazy. But who could believe such a ridiculous story?
“I’ve been to Orian.” Alessia said. “There is only a little similarity between what I consider living and what Orian life is like.”
“You’ve been to Orian?” He decided not to ask the more obvious question—how had she had gotten here again?
“Your father was Orian, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. I mean, no! Look Alessia, I don’t mean to be rude, but where is this all leading? You still haven’t told me who you are.”
“Yes, I did.”
“All right, then,” he agreed dismissively, “maybe you did, but I’ve never heard of this Say-nor-i-something or other place you claim to come from. And I don’t believe you. I read all those stories at the Academy about what beings we found on other worlds, planets we visited more than a century ago—”
“What stories?” She sounded interested.
“I don’t know, all kinds of stories. I admit I wasn’t always paying a whole lot of attention to the details. But I do know that you’re either Tiasennian, Orian, or half-breed like me. End of story. There is nothing else. Only children believe in other-world creatures like gods, ghosts, and devils.” He laughed again.
“Ghosts.” She echoed, in a hollow voice. “Yes, gods, ghosts, and devils are only legendary creatures. Not beings of flesh and blood.”
He stopped suddenly, his eyes flaring wide with involuntarily anxiety as he recalled a small
part of one such popular tale from his youth.
…and the immortals became as creatures of flesh and blood. Many years later, there was once such a creature who haunted the city of Inen. It was said her power could paralyze the heart of the bravest of men. She was a creature of death, truly a shadow. Many years passed before the Fer-innyera tricked the creature, Alessia, into the sky again…
“What is it?” Alessia asked, as Eiron dropped the spoon into his soup.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“Tell me.”
“There was a woman,” he began.
“Yes?”
“She had the same name as you.”
“I know.”
“But she died almost a hundred years ago,” Eiron said. “She was Fer-innyera Orashean’s friend, until she betrayed him. She betrayed all of Tiasenne. She joined forces with the Orians against Tiasenne, as the story goes.”
“I share the name. So you think I might be an Orian spy,” she said suddenly.
“Are you?” he asked.
“No. But you are a loyal Tiasennian, I see.”
“Yes. Just don’t take me for an ignorant idealist.”
“Would that be so awful?” she asked. “I might even like you better for it. You can say what you like here,” Alessia said, sensing that he had been conditioned to secrecy. “I am guilty just by living in this area of disobedience to the Tiasennian state. I will not repeat anything you say to anyone, just remember that.”
“Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you, but I can’t abide the Fer-innyera. We all have to keep up appearances, though, don’t we?” Eiron said. “Not only for ourselves, but there’s always the people to think about, and to protect. What’s true is that only a few senior officers and guys like me know that Ezáitur’s a murdering butcher.”
“Is the truth important to you?”
“Yes.” He said. “It’s rare and invaluable if you can get it.” He said, hoping he didn’t sound naïve, but not really caring if he did. He had ideals, but that didn’t make him wholly an idealist. “But I find that it often comes at too high a price.
“And defending truth is a hard task,” he admitted, proving to her by his words that he could be honest. If he hadn’t felt he could speak freely, he would have kept his mouth shut. Having ideals didn’t make him a fool.
“It never is for anyone,” she agreed. “But what happened that made it so hard for you, as you say?”
“My grandfather’s position and his infernal honesty. During training at the Academy I had to be careful never to let my instructors know that my grandfather shared information with me about the secret inner workings of the government, past and present. If anyone had ever found out that I was anything other than an obedient pilot, you can imagine how short my military career would have been. Even those who are politically disenchanted have to know when to keep their mouths shut, you understand.”
“I do know.”
“Well, Alessia, you’ve let me slip off the subject.”
“Which one?”
“That tricky little question about your loyalties.”
“What do you think about them?”
“What do I think?” he echoed, pausing, staring at her. “You aren’t simply a civilian, that much is clear. You may be sympathetic towards Orian, but no, I don’t think you’re an Orian sabatoeur or secret spy.”
“Why not?” She asked in a tone that invited him to elaborate.
He shook his head. “First of all, you wouldn’t be talking to me like this. And second, no Orian would have pulled me away from Orians. But if you are a sympathizer… at least sympathy isn’t a crime. Well, not unless the government’s listening,” he amended.
She laughed.
“Are you a descendant of one of the Orian scientists—the ones who were invited to join Tiasennian society?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I suppose my loyalties might seem questionable to you. But you see, I have difficulty trusting people, so I don’t like talking about this,” Alessia said, breaking his reverie unexpectedly.
“We don’t have to, then.”
“Good. When I asked how you came to be here, I was actually hoping for more news.”
“News? About what?”
“Well, why did those Orian ships attack you?”
“I’m a Tiasennian pilot.”
“Yes,” she laughed. “What I meant was that I’d like to hear what you were doing out here just before you got shot down.”
“I was flying a patrol mission about twenty nariars from here, two nariars north of the capital.”
“Northern Inen?”
“Yes. That area’s not routine for my patrol.” He explained. “For the past two days some of the citizens living in the northern outskirts of the city had been complaining that they’d heard a strange rumbling sound at night overhead. They knew something was up, since supply ships don’t follow the northern route this time of year.”
“Your Orian friends up to no good?”
He nodded. “We were just about to head for home when we picked up an Orian space fighter on radar heading west. I decided that we would follow it, maybe find out if the Orians had a new target and report our findings back to Headquarters.”
“The Orians had other ideas, though.”
“It seems so. We were just coming to the edge of the Classified Zone when five more of them appeared out of nowhere. The rest of my patrol was shot down immediately, but I managed to take out one of the Orians before the others forced me out over the Classified Zone where they could finish me off. They had the advantage. Usually our fighters fly rings around theirs, but from what I saw—well these looked like a new prototype.” He chewed his lip, contemplating the events.
“What’s wrong?”
“A lot could be wrong. Those fighters I encountered were faster than anything I’ve seen before, and I’m not just saying that to salvage my ego that they shot me out of the sky. If I’m right, they have developed radar silence—their aerospace technology may have finally caught up with ours, and in one swoop surpassed it. They are now more dangerous than ever before.”
“You remind me of an old friend of mine.” Alessia interrupted suddenly. She was strangely quiet.
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
“It is.”
“I should be reporting back.” He continued, unaffected. “I’ve got things to do. The High Command will need my report about the terrorists’ attack and what they were doing. I could use the flare in my uniform to signal the rescue planes and ask them to send a message—”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Alessia insisted firmly. “You may have things to do, but first you’ve got to get better.”
“I can’t just forget about what I saw—”
“But you’re going to have to for now. You wouldn’t reach any of your ships, even if you could make it up to the surface on your own, which you wouldn’t. And it’s not safe up there yet.”
“What?”
“The Orians have been returning to this area since you crashed here. Five, perhaps six of their space fighters are circling the area even now.”
Eiron’s eyes darted reflexively to the ceiling above. How did she know that the Orians had returned? He hadn’t heard any engine noise.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. I don’t play games.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“It doesn’t matter. I was monitoring them before I came to check on you. They have indeed surpassed your world’s in stealth technology, as you suspected.”
“Oh,” he said. He didn’t think to ask how she knew and if she were an authority on the subject. He didn’t doubt she was, somehow. There was a silence.
“In that case,” he added finally, “I suppose I could kick around here a few more days. I’ll bet the Service has even given me the standard memorial service already. I wonder how grandfather is taking it. I’m all the family he has left.”
“I’m sorry to hear th
at.”
“He’s a good man—you’ve probably already heard about him as a leader. But as a grandfather he’s more than anyone will ever know. A good teacher, a man you can respect.” Eiron saw that she was interested and went on. “Tough, but honest. He’s the most respected commander that we’ve ever had, even if he doesn’t hide the fact that he doesn’t agree with some of the policies of the government.
“But, Fer-innyera Ezáitur doesn’t seem to mind. Everyone in the High Command knows they were good friends, in the past. And Ezáitur openly recognizes his usefulness. Senka Vaikyur has been the most successful military tactician that Tiasenne has had in the last hundred years. He has had the uncanny ability to earn the unswerving loyalty of almost every officer that has served under him.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“But you don’t know grandfather,” Eiron said. “The High Command is always suspecting him of having some kind of secret knowledge about the Orians. He just refutes their innuendo and questions.” Eiron found himself laughing. “There are some people who dislike him tremendously, but he’s too valuable to criticize openly. I think Ezáitur is secretly afraid that if Vaikyur disappeared there would be a rebellion within the military.”
“That would be terrible.”
“Yes.”
“You’re done with that soup now?”
“Yes.”
“Then might I suggest a walk around, Eiron?”
“You might.”
“There are quite a few rooms here. You can make yourself at home. I have a small indoor garden—not much of one, with the dry heat here—and a library, if you’re interested.”
“Very much interested.”
For the first time, he noticed that there were several doorways in the walls. Including the opening that led to his room. He had almost forgotten that little miracle. Before his mind had time to contemplate what it might mean, she reached out to take his hand.
“Enough heavy talk for one day.”
“Agreed.”
All my possessions for a moment of time.
—Queen Elizabeth I of England
Chapter Five