Carter Levin was leaning back in his chair, staring at the warped image of the room created by the ice in his tumbler. He reached out with one finger to swipe against the thick base of the glass. The image remained still while the glass itself rotated a reluctant half-inch.

The abstract picture grew even more distorted when a blur of new colors moved through it.

He stumbled to his feet. “Ms. Kumar—”

Devi held up her hand. “It’s all right, Carter.” She crossed through the kitchen, walked over to the side bar, and grabbed her own glass. As she joined him at the small table, she said, “If I’d known you drank, I would’ve sat down with you years ago.”

Levin resumed his place.

Kumar pushed her tumbler toward him. “Would you be so kind?”

He poured her a generous measure of whiskey, then added some more to his empty glass.

“Has it been a long watch?” Kumar asked.

“Long…and dull.”

“Where’s Dr. Bonumomnes?”

“Downstairs. The spare bedroom.”

“How is she?”

Levin shrugged. When he looked up, the shock of their eyes meeting made Devi realize how rarely they looked directly at each other.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “Did everything go all right back at the main house?”

Kumar took a drink as she thought about what to say, but she was distracted by the liquor tearing its way down her throat. Coughing and gasping, the senator pushed the glass away.

Levin chuckled. “It’s your whiskey, Senator. Haven’t you ever had any?”

The sound of his laugh made her wonder how many glasses he’d already had.

“Here, take mine.” Levin pushed his tumbler toward her. “It’s better on ice.” He watched as she sipped. “Better?”

“Slightly.” Her eyes were still watering.

“What happened back at the main house?”

“It went as well as can be expected. The mercenaries did their job.” Kumar shuddered. “It was chaos. There was a lot of blood.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever seen someone killed, isn’t it? Seen it—right in front of you.” Levin grabbed the unchilled glass and took a swallow. “Your whiskey and your murders, and this is the first time you’re getting a taste of it.” There was another soft laugh. “God help me, I’m a philosophical drunk.”

Kumar stared down at the table.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Are you all right?” Carter asked.

He sounded like he meant it.

The dull emptiness Devi had been clinging to gave way. It was all she could do to not scream. The ice crashed against her teeth as she rushed to finish her drink. When it was drained, she reached for the bottle and poured herself another.

“No, Carter. I’m not all right. Nothing about this is all right. I don’t think there’s enough whiskey in the galaxy to shut it all up. And yes, that was the first time I’ve seen someone die.” She glared at him. “Do you care?”

Levin was motionless for a moment. Then he tilted his wrist enough to show his palm in a kind of minimalist shrug. “I don’t care. I don’t think you’re weak for it. I remember the first time I saw someone die.”

“You…or…”

“I guess you’d think of it as the first time he saw someone die. But it’s my memory. The first time I saw someone die was under your orders, but I was already a killer.”

“An assassin.”

Levin shook his head. “He and I—we think of ourselves as a killer. You can drop a fancy name and charge more money for it, but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Why did you become an assassin?”

There was the sound of his glass settling roughly on the table. “I had no choice.”

“I meant him—the man…the man you took over.”

Carter put more effort into his shrug this time. “I was good at it. I didn’t want to be in the war anymore, but I had a set of skills.” He took another drink and sighed through his teeth. “I was good at it,” he muttered.

“Do you hate it?”

Levin tilted his head slightly, but his eyes stayed on her. “I never figured you’d be a philosophical drunk, Ms. Kumar.”

Devi shook her head and stared down at the liquor in her glass.

“You get used to it,” he said. “You turn yourself off”—he clicked his tongue as he flicked a finger down—“like a light-switch, so you don’t have to think about it. That’s how you get through the days.”

“I know.”

“Yes, you do.” Levin leaned forward over the table. “You and I are a lot alike, Ms. Kumar.”

Devi laid her head down on the tabletop, resting her chin on her crossed forearms. She shoved her glass forward until it met the other with a loud clink. “Cheers.”

Carter lifted his glass, gave her a lazy wink, and drained it.

“Here it is, the end of it all,” Kumar muttered, “and I’m sharing a drink with an alien assassin. He says we’re a lot alike.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end.”

Devi looked up, surprised, when she heard the energy in his words. He was staring at her again.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said. “Why would it be?”

“Carter—you betrayed me, you know.”

That made him look away.

Kumar went on, “But I wasn’t surprised. I don’t even blame you. You are what you are. You didn’t have a choice. And I am what I am. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think this won’t end well for me. What’s the line about old sins?”

“Old sins cast long shadows.”

She glanced at him.

“My grandmother used to say it to me all the time,” he said.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Silence.

“What about you, Ms. Kumar? Did you hate your lot in life?”

“Being a senator?” She let out a hard breath of laughter. “No. Not once. I fought for it. I earned it.”

“So you got what you wanted?”

“I got what I thought I wanted. That’s close enough. But everything changes. Even I’ve changed. I don’t know if I’d recognize myself now. There are too many long shadows.” Devi briefly hid her face in her folded arms. When she raised her head again, she said, “I wish I could go back—maybe. But I don’t think I would’ve listened. Even to myself.”

“I’ve never heard you talk this way before, Ms. Kumar.”

“You’ve never asked me a question like that before, Carter.”

“Things have changed, haven’t they?”

“Yes. They have.” Devi sighed. “I should have sat down with you much sooner. You have nice eyes. And a nice smile.”

“Ah. Not very professional though, is it?”

“You actually look at me. Nobody does that.”

His eyes sought her face and took in her expression.

“I’m sorry, Carter,” Kumar whispered.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

There was a tiny beep, then a scratchy voice from outside the doorway: “I found her, Captain. Oh my god! Jane? Dr. Jane!”

Levin made it to his feet as Vas finished stepping into the room. Carter’s hand was on his e-pistol when the blast tore through his chest.