{Gait}

Two and half million years ago, Junior Warden Pehton hated her job. Every day, the other Wardens sanctioned atrocities committed by the prisoners. It repulsed her. Especially the ones they afflicted on the Prisonborne children. Their screams… They never stopped.

Shrill. Helpless. Hopeless.

Not one more day. She refused to standby and do nothing for one more day. No. Someone finally armed Pehton with the leverage to cut-off the source. But she’d show enough respect for the Executive Warden to offer one last chance.

“Triss.” No knock on her private house at the highest peak in Gait. No formal title. “Have you discussed freeing the children with the Pain Curator?”

The red-feathered woman sitting behind the desk stared upside Pehton’s head like she grew a second one. But after another moment, the ire melted into… what was that? Desire? “I drove a hard bargain, but Razor’s negotiation skills proved… most impressive. We maintain the status quo.”

The Junior Warden grew more agitated. “I implore you to reconsider—”

“Do you understand the unrest this prison will face if you take away their toys?” Triss stood and stepped around the desk to face Pehton. “They’ll force us to incinerate possibly twenty-eight percent of them before the others learn from that example. Enki will punish us for killing their precious specimens.”

The older Lyrik placed a finger on the younger one’s lips before she could argue further. “You are young. Barely two million. Trust me, the screams will bother you less in another million years. Unless, you find yourself concerned for the children of Gait for another reason.” She glanced down at Pehton’s swelling stomach and when her yellow gaze returned, it was full of a knowledge she shouldn’t possess.

That was it. That was the last flame that needed igniting. “Goodbye, Triss.”

Pehton turned on her heel and left. She marched straight to the warehouse currently under renovation on Mercy Row. The new Overseers clunked overhead with their shiny exteriors. Against the purple sky, they looked hopeful, not oppressive. The sign of Gait’s future in prison control and Prisonborne cataloging. Separating the inmates from the citizens.

Like her.

The promises of her new ally emboldened the Junior Warden to seek the most notorious villain on Gait. For them. She touched her growing belly. Before entering, Pehton fashioned her armor to best disguise her condition. No need to let him know. Pushing aside a flap of plastic, she entered the dim space. The clack of her boots resonated off the beautiful wood floors.

“Not that I need to extend manners to a trespasser, but how can I help you?” A man stood on the mezzanine with brown hair and brown skin. He looked handsome in a slimy way. Polished on the surface, all blemished underneath. As she expected the Pain Curator to look.

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“I am Junior Warden Pehton. I want to negotiate removing the child labor force from Gait.”

He headed down the wrought-iron spiral staircase without looking up from the forms in his hand. Unconcerned, he dismissed her. “The Executive Warden and I have an arrangement. As your employer, she holds you to it.”

“Not Executive for much longer.”

Piqued, Razor finally looked up with a raised brow. “Is that so?”

She straightened her shoulders and stood taller. “It is. And you will remove the children.”

“You ask a lot with nothing to offer, Peh Peh. Do you mind if I call you that?” He came closer, and her skin wanted to escape.

One baby kicked as if reminding Pehton why she played this game. “I know it would never matter to you if I mind or not. What do you want that I could offer you?”

What made the grin so terrifying was the menace beneath the allure. “As Executive Warden, the Chorus is yours—”

She shook her head, and the gliders flared on her arms.

Massive Tritan satellites circled Gait. They controlled the constructs within, including the cells of the prison, the Overseers, and the Lyriks. With the Chorus activated, the Lyriks’ resonance weapons would amplify until their voices shattered every nacre on the planet.

“I will not give you that—”

He held up a hand to placate her, while the hard ambition in his eyes softened to understanding. “No, of course not. I have no interest in its primary function. But the secondary.”

“…You—You want the Wardens?”

Brown fire burned in Razor’s gaze as he turned on the convincing charm. “Give the idea time. You can free the children and get your promotion—”

“You can have them.”

The man genuinely startled. His eyes widened, and it took him time to recover his congenial smile. “I thought you might appreciate more time to consider it. The decision is planet-altering, after all. No need to be rash.”

“I want those children out of my prison now. After the last one leaves, I deliver the Wardens to you.” Those bitches let monstrous men and women torture those children. One day—her children. No. Let Razor have them.

“I like you, Executive Warden Pehton.”

“And that’s it. Once the twins came, the Primaries elected me Executive Warden. They outlawed slave labor and underage sex-work across the Vast Collective. The day of the changeover ceremony, Razor came to free the children and collect the Wardens. I accepted my promotion, walked down the steps, and crossed the street. I held my babies’ hands so tight… And then they were gone.”

Korac didn’t offer a warm hand or a kind word. Only a companionable silence.

“I wish I’d known that, as Executive Warden at the time, Triss wouldn’t be under the influence of the Chorus. I never imagined a scenario where she’d go to him willingly.” Pehton ran both hands over her feathers, seeking any comfort. “I can’t tell who’s the worse villain here. Her or me?”

“Razor.” Korac’s gaze froze into a sheet of white ice. He looked into the distance beyond Pehton, not seeing Infernus hall but something else.

“You were labor here.” She knew that, but… Oh, she never gave thought to which kind of labor. “Korac…” How does one ask what haunts a warrior of this magnitude? One bearing a reputation of such regal standing and ruthless strategy? What would make eyes freeze over that once saw billions fall to his army?

“You’re not telling all of your story.” He accused her of exactly what she was silently accusing him.

Chilled, Pehton shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. Please don’t ask—”

“How were the children connected to your promotion, Executive Warden?”