{Enki}
John waited in the shrine leading to Earth. The seamless glass encasing the conduit granted visitors an unhindered view to admire. And he did. He only wished for Progeny or Icarean eyesight to grasp the full scale of the Dyson’s Sphere.
Enki. A world of mysteries.
“…one week, Tumu. You think that’s fair? And without my son. I haven’t been without him a single night since he was born.” Tameka glowered at the thirteen-foot tall Tritan.
Tumu absorbed her fury with boundless patience. Almost as if he understood completely. Before the man responded, one of John’s bags slipped from his hand. Papers spilled and scattered at their feet.
“Shit. Sorry.” He scrambled to retrieve them and reorganize the chaos.
Tumu and Tameka almost bumped heads trying to help. In that ridiculous moment, they looked up at each other. The Tritan’s large voids blinked at her almond-shaped green eyes. And for the first time in two years, they smiled at each other.
The Progeny woman went through a lot since the war. The Shadow grieved with her. Losing Xelan hurt them all, but it wrecked Tameka’s entire world. She never let it show. No, not that warrior. But everyone saw it when she looked at Pax a certain way. Heart-wrenching. And even Tritans had hearts… Somewhere, anyway. They never found a record of their anatomy.
They stepped through the conduit and into the freezing Siberian tundra. No need to shiver. Nacres regulated body temperature. Even in this extreme frost, they only felt a slight chill.
Tameka pointed southwest. “The airstrip’s a quarter mile that way.”
“I received an urgent message from Karter,” Tumu said as he frowned at his comms device. “I need to see them as soon as we reach Egypt. Are you good on Cinder?”
“Is everything all right?” Tameka asked automatically before startling. “You can leave me unchaperoned?”
The Tritan smiled down at her. “Everything will be fine. And not officially. But we’re on my planet now. The only authority higher here than myself is Primary Rem. And he’s ‘unavailable.’”
There’s the beam. Her freckles even sparkled as she rallied, “Well, all right. Let’s get this show on the road.”
John spent the flight to Egypt organizing his presentation for The Brethren and the honest-to-goodness truth he prepped for the Shadow’s briefing. The Brethren meant well, but the Shadow defended the planet. Their intel took priority.
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Tameka turned in her seat and rested her chin on the back. “Are you ready for this?”
John blew the air out of his cheeks and answered honestly, “Not really. And I wish I could stay on Earth.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“I can’t stand being in that place, but I know it’s important. I just don’t know why I’m being held captive—”
“Honorary resident,” Tumu corrected.
“—there, too. I’m nobody.” John patted his bum leg for emphasis. “I’m not even a complete human.”
Tameka’s eyes softened along with her voice, “John, why didn’t you take up the Tritans on their offer to restore your leg?”
He glanced away sharply. “They made me sound like a waste without it. But I fought a war with my leg like this. With a nacre, I don’t even feel the pain or fatigue most of the time. I…” Shaking his head, he looked down. “I am capable.” When he looked back up, his eyes stung with determination, “And I’ll show them.”
The Progeny girl’s eyes glittered. The smile that spread across her lips illuminated the fuselage. “Yea, you will. And I think they suspect that. Hence, the shared prisoner status.” She wagged a finger between the two of them.
“Heh.”
They both turned to Tumu, who stared out his window. Tameka asked, “You got something to add?”
The Tritan twisted all the way around in his chair. He looked uncomfortable compressed to only seven feet of his colossal height. John saw it in little winces, as the brown compression suit twisted with him.
“Enki historically underestimates its opponents. Those they manipulate and try to control. The Eminents learned their lesson, and now they want to lock down your little tribe.” The Tritan reclined his seat to lay flat. He spread across it, languidly.
Tameka and John shared a glance. Both looked down at the chains around their necks.
Casually, Tumu added, “Still, I’ve never met a group quite like yours. You pose a threat with your love for one another. And Enki has never seen the likes of that before.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t wish ill on my world. Or yours. But only one will survive the impending confrontation. I’ve no doubt.”
John swallowed hard against the foreboding knot in his throat.
Tameka stood and stared the Tritan down. “They invite confrontation on themselves. Imprisoning innocent people. Micromanaging this galaxy. Harboring someone like Celindria.” With each offense, she took a step closer to the ancient alien. “Tumu, tell me you understand?”
The blue man sat up in his seat and considered her.
The jet formerly belonged to the Icarean army. Korac decorated it in black everything. It sucked the light into an abyssal void. In the vacant darkness, the silence that stretched between the Tritan and the Progeny opened a gulfing breach. The vacuum waited to see which one would jump in first.
The Tritan’s impossibly deep voice erupted so suddenly that it popped John’s ears, “I understand, Sovereign Ambassador.” The simple response hid some deeper emotion Tumu chose not to convey. He turned his back on them and righted his seat.
Tameka slumped back in her chair with frustration obvious in her folded arms and clenched jaw. She stared hard out the window.
John wanted for one aspect of his life to be uncomplicated. Just one. No confusion. No worries. Was that asking too much? As he turned back to the duplicitous presentations, and spied the topic he didn’t want to cover, he supposed that it was in fact asking too much.