run my fingers over its smooth surface. A grid of light illuminates on the surface of the desk—it’s a keyboard of sorts to access the control center. I walk around the desk and sit in the massive chair behind it. It’s made to fit Kyon’s broad shoulders. I ease back, feeling like a child in an adult world. My fingers round on the ends of the armrests. I rub them, trying to get a feel for the person who owns it.
Kyon slowly takes a seat in a chair facing his desk—his hands temple as he watches me watch him.
“This place is so different from the places I’ve been to on Ethar,” I observe.
“It is.”
“Everything is minimalistic.”
“I thought it would be less confusing for you.”
“For me?” I scoff.
“You spend much of your time observing the surface of things, and you hardly ever take time to assess what’s underneath.” He holds up his hand, staving off my angry retort. “It’s not an insult,” he barks threateningly.
I hesitate, and then say in a calm tone, “Alright.” I realize abruptly that he’s reacting to the anger he sees on my face, and the fact that I was just about to yell at him. It affects him—he doesn’t know how to talk to me. I lean back in the chair once more. “So that was not meant as an insult—please explain.”
He takes a breath, trying to regain calm. “You’ve been thrown into a world filled with an overabundance of technology and wealth and excess. I’ve observed you peel away the layers a bit at a time, processing everything quickly—as is your way. I thought that it would be easier for you to see me without all those distractions. I could’ve brought you aboard one of my yachts, but I’ve observed you on the boats in the little lake at the Rafe palace. You hid your panic well, but I knew you hated every moment that you were afloat. It made you feel helpless. I also could’ve taken you to one of my estates, where you would’ve found ways to hide yourself away in so many of the distractions they provide. No. I wanted you here. I want us to see each other.”
“You think you know me?” I ask.
“No. I don’t think anyone really knows you. We have that in common.”
“How long do you think it will take for us to know each other?”
He shrugs and is about to say something when a cacophony of beeping interrupts him. His jaw tight, he rises from his seat. “Oscil, report.”
“Incoming Vindercrafts, seven series.”
“Image.” A holographic landscape image appears over the surface of the desk between us. A stunning aircraft that resembles a matte black boomerang flies low over the glassy water, but leaves no shadow on the surface. Behind it, there is a fleet of similar airships, a score at least, following it in a V formation.
Kyon frowns. “Are they armed?”
“Fully armed.”
“Occupants?”
“Twenty-seven life forms in the lead ship.”
“Approach?”
“Quadrant two.”
“Time?”
“One fleat,” the fem-bot replies, indicating that in a minute that ship will be here.
“Have they been warned not to attempt to land here?”
“Affirmative. Shall I initiate termination protocols?” the computer asks dispassionately.
“Hold termination,” Kyon murmurs. “Allow the lead ship through. Bar the rest of the formation.”
“Who is it?” I ask, watching him. I can’t tell if he’s happy or unhappy about the visitor.
“Alameeda Strikers.”
“Why are they coming here?”
“They intend to return you to the Brotherhood.”
“And you’re going to say no?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re mine,” he replies.
The hologram between Kyon and I shows the armada of aircraft behind the lead ship suddenly veer off in several different directions, avoiding an iridescent, bubblelike dome that exists between them and their lead ship. As they scramble in the air, realigning in a clump behind the shield, the lead boomerang-shaped ship halts abruptly at the edge of the beach. It shifts its shape and draws in its wings; it soon resembles a black salamander. Four legs form from the body, anchoring it to the beach. Black armor-clad soldiers slither around inside the mouth of the ship when it opens onto the shore. Kyon doesn’t look at all concerned. Finding it hard to breathe, I swallow the bile that rises in my mouth.
“Oscil,” Kyon says calmly.
“Requirement?”
“Enemy infiltration. Is Excelsior among them?”
“Scanning for Excelsior Ensin,” the dispassionate voice replies. “Negative. Excelsior Ensin is not detected.”
Kyon looks disappointed as he says, “Exterminate all foreign entities.”
“Authorization code?”
“Formulate Infinity.”
“Who is Excelsior?” I demand.
Kyon is distracted, watching the hologram between us as he says, “He’s the Supreme Chancellor of the