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FIFTEEN

Ambulances shriek past. The reek of fire hits us hard even from a distance. People are milling around a coach which has burst into flames. The crowd is jostling, arms and legs in each other's faces, bathed in sweat and fear. We park on the side and push past them. Nobody seems to know what caused the fire. Ember flicker. Smell of char.

“All refugees,” someone says. “That coach was one of those specials they run from the refugee camps, for them to look for work.”

Ryz touches my arm. “Are you okay? You’ve gone white.”

“Yeah,” I say, gruff, touched by his concern.

For a while after that, we help the paramedics and by the time we’re done, it feels like it’s been hours but perhaps it’s only been minutes. Time has become elastic. The world seems to be collapsing around me, its edge unraveling. Is this the beginning of a time-spill? Isn’t this how it starts, with local fires and riots, small disturbances?

Ryz and I don’t speak but he gets back in the car and and it’s clear he has taken me up on my offer to stay, at least for another night. I’m glad. I don’t want to be alone.

When we get back to my schufon, there is a throng of officers in the complex and my neighbors are standing at their windows and balconies. “What now?” I mutter, pulling Ryz to the side as two officers lead a woman out from one of the apartments. She is more disheveled today but I recognize her from the day Saira came over. Her despair is palpable as the officers manhandle her on the way out. She is crying, mouthing protests. “I don’t know where he is. I really don’t know. He comes and goes when he wants. I don’t know where he goes—,”

“Your husband has already been arrested,” an officer says. “For being part of that new gang.”

I am about to ask him for information but what happens next dispels all other thoughts from my mind. The salamander buzzes with a text from Eniad. “I want to see you tomorrow. Come to my house.” It’s followed by an address.

There is no other information.

Question swoop like vultures all night and I wake to markings on my face. I cover them with make-up as best as I can. To Ryz’s credit, he pretends he hasn’t noticed them.

Eniad’s mansion is hushed when I get there. A silver car is parked in the driveway, next to her sleek white one. The huge metallic doors swing open and a uniformed butler stands in the doorway, beckoning me in. I touch my face and am grateful the markings have decided to vamoose. For the moment. The help leads me through the living room to glass doors which lead out to the garden. I am momentarily awe-struck as I step into Eniad’s sanctuary.

The air is thick with raspberries and ivy. The sun is warm and bright. There is a long brunch table covered with preparations of raw fish, algae salads, smoothies. Bees buzz in the white star jasmine. Glasses of juice sparkle orange. Dressed in glossy white robes, Eniad is at the head of the table and at her right, to my surprise, is Osiris Manatios.

We exchange the customary greetings and I take a seat at a deferential distance from them. They look like a monarchial couple at the head of the table, both dressed in white, both silver-haired. I wonder how Pali is. I have not seen her in months and this hits me sharply right now as an ache in the solar plexus.

“Pali tells me you have some interesting powers,” Osiris says with a smile, as if guessing my thoughts. “We’ve been busy since the wedding but you should come over and see her.” He picks a chicken leg off the platter and takes a bite out of it.

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“Interesting would be one word.” I take a piece of flatbread onto my plate. My reflection stares back at me from its pewter base.

“But you have not managed to control them,” he says. It is not a question. “The collision with the girl,” he says by way of explanation when I look at him. “I have a proposition for you. I’d like to help you.”

Eniad nods as if in encouragement. She has not said a word to me yet. For all intents and purposes, Osiris seems to be in charge of this meeting. He outlines his plan. “A team of experts will work with you, train you and fit you with neural adjustments. He says the last word with a slight emphasis on the ‘d’ sound so it sounds like ad-justment.

I stare at him. I don’t know what to say. A numbness has spread through my limbs. I have a feeling I’m not being offered a choice.

“After you finish, you will still have the option of going through your review,” Eniad says. “If you want to.”

That is mildly reassuring but I have so many questions, I don’t know where to start. “Why?” I blurt out. “I mean, thank you. But why me?”

“Why not you?” Osiris says. “Besides, in return you would work with us for a while. On a small project. Don’t worry. Nothing you can’t handle.”

I glance at Eniad and shovel food into my mouth. It spares me from giving an immediate answer. It’s true that Alke has a stellar reputation. They have worked with the Concilium on several projects, never been found guilty of violations, not even the simplest tax-related ones. Their Kild products and training services are known to be the best and most expensive. Now here he is apparently offering them to me for free. Why?

“The investigating committee has almost cleared you,” Eniad says. “If you want to do the review, apply to leave the force, the training will help you prove you can be trusted outside. Of course, we would still call you back for any special missions that required Kild but I told you I would try to help you. I like to keep my word.”

I fork a piece of fish, chew the delicate pink sliver, take a sip of turmeric tea.

“One of my brands, the tea,” Osiris says. “Like it?”

“Yes, thank you. What about side effects?”

“You'll be monitored closely.”

“Can I have a few days? To think about it?”

“Of course. You should not take any decision without thinking.” He smiles and his face acquires a ragged charm.

“I’m sorry. I have a meeting,” Eniad says. “I have to leave.”

“Stay and eat some more,” Osiris says, helping Eniad with her coat. “You will need your strength.” His eyes twinkle, full of humor and challenge. I can give you the world, they seem to be saying. And despite his obviously domineering nature and his weird energy, he is charming. Suddenly, I can see why Pali agreed to marry him. It might be hard to refuse Osiris anything.

I wait for them to leave, then stealth my way into the house, hoping I won’t run into any of the help. The living room is huge, with white leather couches that could seat twenty. There are no screens. In a corner of a the room, a glass terrarium runs from floor to ceiling. Inside it, a snake coils, its frigid eye watching me.

A door to one side leads to what looks like a study and I go in.

It is a large room with a Mahogany desk at one end and bookshelves lining the walls with tomes on history and politics. There are three paintings on the walls, large-scale photographs of forests. The room is warmer, more full of heart so maybe this is where Eniad spends more time. Going to the desk, I scan the top which is clean except for a brass paperweight in the shape of a mermaid.

Riffling through drawers and cabinets. I find papers, notebooks. I open one of them and something catches my eye. A tiny gold flower embossed in the corner of each page. An insignia. It comes back to me. Pali mentioned a flower on a notebook—it was what she was looking at when the man attacked her. Could there possibly be some link? Maybe it’s a similar brand. It’s an odd coincidence and something about it disturbs me. I have almost forgotten where I am when a noise outside makes me scurry for cover. I drop to my knees, heat building in my chest.

A man, liveried, a dust cloth in his hands, pauses at the door. “Is there someone here?”

My heart is thudding. If I could pray, I would. His feet advance towards the desk — very shiny shoes I note — and I have only seconds to decide. I concentrate on what I must do.

Control. Aim. Flex. Focus. Unleash. I watch his eyes glaze over.

When I get up from my position and walk out, he is still staring at a spot on the wall. I can only wish that he will come to his senses before anyone notices.