Zeijien followed the cohort outside, keeping a careful distance. Zei felt the eyes of curious commuters along the way. The stagnant air of the station felt heavy. Nonetheless, zei dragged on until zei stopped outside to watch the unfamiliar police faction load Ekarin into the backseat of a tanklike hovercraft. The vehicle promptly took off along with a crisp gust of April wind.
A burning sensation rose in huir chest, the desire to take off after them overwhelming. Huir hands began to break off into little black particles slowly. But from the corner of huir vision, zei noticed an animated billboard playing the news. “More Unfixed Senergians Found Without Detectable Wavelengths,” the headline said across the screen. Huir hands returned to normal. Zei couldn’t shift. Not here, not now. Not with this latest paranoia in the media. Huir legs gave out when zei reached the nearest bench. Zei sat there, burying huir head in huir hands while huir grip tightened around huir ears.
What had gone wrong? How could zei have let it come to this?
No, it’s not your fault, zei tried to reassure enself. We’ve been over this. Things like this happen.
But still. What if it was? After all, the police meticulously watched activities in the Risenen Immigrants Relief organization. Zei could’ve done better to protect the subjects’ anonymity. Zei could’ve written messages to Ekarin by hand to avoid being traced. Mulling over the possibilities made en sink deeper in huir seat until zei caught huir head between huir forearms.
The sound and vibration of huir holo watch wrenched en out of huir thoughts. “Ebbot the Raw Fish Ninja” was calling—just an inside joke name for Eberkerson due to huir recent odd job at a Niasoren restaurant somewhere in Rokon. Zeijien wished zei didn’t have to read a joke name now of all times.
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“Yes, love?” zei answered sluggishly while zei slipped on huir earpiece and halfway straightened huir posture.
“Zeiji,” Eber’s deep, velvet-toned voice answered from the other side. “I have news.” There was a pause before zei continued, “And a request.”
Zeijien didn’t answer. Zei usually would, but zei knew that Eber would explain anyway. Besides, huir energy levels had flatlined.
Eber’s voice began to sound curious. “You aren’t doing so well, it sounds like.”
“I haven’t made much of a sound,” Zeijien jested sardonically.
“What happened?”
“One of my students. The police just took en away. But it didn’t look like any normal police faction.”
Eber took huir sweet time before answering, “I see. So you’re feeling guilty, I reckon?”
“This wasn’t what I wanted. Zei asked me a strange question just before we ended the driving test—” Zei fell silent. Glanced at huir immediate surroundings, unsure if zei should continue this conversation in such a public space.
Eberkerson sighed into a crackle over the line. “You know the reality of what you’re getting into already.”
Zeijien’s expression became blank. Huir way of speaking turned robotic. “Yes, that creating a program like this is likely to fail, especially in this political climate.”
“Zeiji, that’s not what I mean…”
“It is what you mean.”
“Listen. That’s the reality, but know this—in the grand scheme of things, it really does make a difference, especially when these programs grow in popularity. This simply may not be the right time in history, though. You’ve made a good start, though.”
Zeijien leaned back on the bench and turned huir eyes to the sky glowing a brilliant blue etched with sunlight-painted clouds. “I don’t understand why I desire to do this sort of thing for humans.”
Eberkerson chuckled. “I don’t believe that. You know, for sure. You are a selfish being, not a benevolent god. And for that, we have much in common.”