Axis read Lexia’s missive. He appreciated her telling him she would attend the Founding Play tonight, but he also dreaded the event. However, he had to admit to some curiosity. Even the parade didn’t tell the story of how Snow saved Winter. All Axis could remember was how the young scientist at age seventeen warned the world of the electromagnetic pulse, and no one listened. It had something to do with his father’s lack of credibility or some similar misfortune.

Axis dressed in a black velvet three-piece and a crimson silk button-down, hoping to distract Lexia from his earlier misbehavior. No part of him wanted to restrict any part of her. She could make her own judgments. But why did Axis still feel he was right for warning Snow away from her? There was a danger there from which Axis wanted to protect Lexia, and damn Snow if he ever hurt her.

Bolt waited outside in the car, but Axis paused on his steps. In the light of the Flicker wick street lamps, he made out fluffy white flakes.

It was snowing.

Under the dome.

How magical it was to see any kind of condensation result in precipitation within the cities. He couldn’t contain his delight and grinned as he climbed into the car.

Bolt said, “It should make for a wonderful evening, Prince Flicker.”

Yes. This was much better than how the day had started.

They arrived at the theater—the only theater in Winter’s capital city—to find a red carpet for cars arriving at the grand double doors. Axis almost considered rolling his eyes, but the snow had done much to improve his mood. He went with it, exiting the car with a regal elegance.

People waved and whistled, crying out, “The Prince! It’s the Prince!”

It was enough to make Axis blush and duck his eyes until a sudden silence blanketed the din. He turned to see his father’s blacked out limousine pull up, and Axis recalled how many times he’d seen the sight. And how many times he had ran and hid from it.

He would sooner look forward to seeing a hearse.

It took two servants to help Valve’s heft out of the car, especially with him coughing the entire time. Once Axis saw the red stain at the corner of his father’s mouth, he took a moment and stared.

How much longer now?

And how would Axis take his father’s passing?

As if Valve had heard his son’s thoughts, he barked, “Why do you look at me as if you’ve seen a ghost, boy? I’m right as rain.” When the two women, naked but for some strategically placed diamonds, followed Valve out of the car and onto his arm, Axis decided he was fine with the sow kicking the bucket.

He turned and frowned the rest of the way inside.

No mother.

Axis’ mother died in childbirth. There’d been no one between him and his father for Axis’ entire life aside from…

“Axis, would you like to stay with us another night?”

“Yes, Mrs. Tempest. I’d like that very much.”

The visceral intensity of his sincere gratitude from the unbidden memory took Axis’ breath away. As the playhouse employee swept Axis’ coat off, he fought tears. Why had the universe seen fit to take Lya so soon and leave Valve on this Earth for so long?

At least it had been kind enough to leave Dr. Tempest on Winter for Lexia. She needed her father, and if Axis were honest with himself, so did he.

A little less moody, Axis approached the stairs to the Flicker’s theater box. Yet, as he contemplated an entire evening near his father, Axis thought better of it and went into the first-floor crowd.

Where to sit…

Where to sit—

Someone flagged Axis down. It was Mrs. Tenz on the first row. The joyful middle-aged woman beamed as he made his way through the significant throng of people. Some brushed him places he’d rather them not touch, but eventually he made his way through it mostly unmolested.

“Good evening, Mrs. Tenz.”

“Prince Axis, you look as though you need a place to sit?” Her warm grin was infectious, and Axis found himself returning the expression.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Tenz patted the modest wooden chair beside hers. On the other side, a young man kept peering at Axis.

The People’s Prince waved and said, “Hello. You must be young Mr. Tenz.” He held out his hand.

The young man blushed but shook it, anyway. “Hello.” When Mrs. Tenz beamed further at the exchange, the son rolled his eyes. “Mom, you’re so embarrassing me.”

She changed the subject as they took their seats. “Count Snow was kind enough to send us some invitations for these remarkable seats. I’m happy to have you as my plus one, Prince Axis.”

It was his turn to blush when she looped her arm through his and winked.

Snow and flirting.

The evening was off to a pleasant start.

Even as the unmistakable odor of his father’s cigars—Snow’s finest—made its way down into the floor seats, Axis would not let it ruin the night.

The next couple down the red carpet would.

Gauge made his way from the entry doors into the theater of purple velvet curtains and copper ornamentation. With Tija on his arm. The blue-eyed brunette looked dazzling in a glittery champagne dress clinging to her, shifting from silver to gold. It matched Gauge’s waistcoat and top hat. The rest of his tuxedo was white, including his cane and gloves. Tonight, his glasses were amber, complementing the glitz of the evening.

Axis’ mood soured with the entrance. He’d thought of Tija as a friend, but now he was questioning her judgment. He could forgive her acting as double agent between Snow and Flicker because it was hard to elevate beyond factory hand without getting into some trouble. But dating Snow?

As soon as Axis thought it, shame heated his face. There was nothing wrong with the woman trying to get ahead in the world, and whether or not she actually enjoyed the Count’s company was really none of Axis’ business.

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What was happening to him?

Stress.

The factory’s reputation was in jeopardy.

Valve was trying to spoil his inheritance.

And Axis had just overcome a major phobia by finally proposing to Lexia in public.

It was stress.

Mrs. Tenz patted his hand as if she’d sensed his tension, and Axis appreciated the woman’s maternal instincts. Especially as Gauge and Tija walked by with a smile for the Prince in the crowd. The two climbed a set of ornate circular stairs to one side of the stage and stood in the middle of it.

Gauge said, “Welcome one and all to the first annual Founding Play.”

Of course he would make it annual.

“I bet you’re asking yourselves, ‘How can Count Snow lay the groundwork for a new city, sponsor a new play, and keep it all a secret reveal for the decennial Founding Season?’ Well, you shouldn’t be. I couldn’t do it without the wonderful people of Winter, equally dedicated to progress and spectacle. Here I am giving a special thanks to all those involved in these wonderful projects and for their extreme loyalty to keeping my secrets.” He kissed Tija’s cheek as if he was including her in those thanks. “Now, I hope everyone enjoys…”

Shuffling and whispering drew Axis’ attention off the stage, and with a glance, he noticed everyone turning around to face the doors. Someone had just walked in and stolen the show.

Axis grinned because he had an inkling who it might be. When he turned around, he was not disappointed.

Lexia walked in wearing scarlet leather pants so soft they looked as though someone had poured silk over her long legs, a black corset-laced bustier, and a scarlet coat reaching her knees. She’d pinned her white mass of wavy hair back at the temples with golden butterflies and wore Axis’ timepiece on her wrist. Black lipstick gave her sweet lips a poisonous look, tempting Axis to taste them in front of all these people.

Mrs. Tenz mused beside him, “She’s hard to compete with.”

Lexia ruined the grand entrance by giving the crowd a wave with a dorky smile. “Hello. Don’t mind me. I’m just on my way upstairs. Sorry.”

Axis beamed, and she noticed him in the crowd with another silly wave.

Beside her, Dr. Tempest looked proud as he escorted his daughter up to their theater box.

Now it was time to see how Gauge had taken the interruption.

Axis turned back to find the Count watching Lexia ascend with fascination and admiration open on his face. At first, it nearly riled Axis, but Lexia was beautiful and sweet. How could anyone not admire her? As long as Gauge kept it to himself, Axis wouldn’t embarrass himself or upset his fiance by making a ridiculous scene. Even if it was obvious that both men would rather spend the play at Lexia’s side.

Tija tugged on her date, and Gauge cleared his throat to regain the audience’s attention. “Please enjoy a story you’ve heard before but never like this.” The two disappeared behind the curtain, thoroughly upstaged.

Axis glanced up at Lexia’s box, and she waved down as if she’d been waiting for him to do so.

Oh, but how he loved her.

The lights dimmed, the orchestra in the pit played a tinkering chime, and the play began with a child in a laboratory. An older man walked onto the stage, saying, “Son, you should be in bed.”

“But father, I want to finish this sequence.”

“You’re four years old. What do you know of genome sequencing?”

When the boy shifted, Axis could see a centrifuge on the table behind him. The boy said, “I think I’ve isolated what’s wrong with mother.”

The older man picked up the boy and stared down at his work, saying, “Your mother is very sick, and you’re too young to understand how any of this equipment works.”

“But father…”

Father kissed son, but ignored his almost feverish insistence by tucking him back into bed.

The curtain closed, and when it opened again, the scene had transitioned into a sight Axis knew well.

A funeral.

Gauge was only five when he’d lost his mother.

Axis supposed it was a loss he, Lexia, and Gauge shared in common.

The play carried on, showing the little boy’s interest in medicine increasing, and from there it grew into chemistry, physics, and astronomy. Meanwhile, it’d seemed he’d inherited his mother’s illness.

“Little Bones?” The older man called as he walked onto set.

The boy of six wore a labcoat tailor-fitted for him while he contemplated a mathematical equation on a whiteboard. He rolled his eyes at what apparently passed for a term of endearment. “Don’t interrupt me, father. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough.”

“I thought you would like to meet a colleague of mine. He’s an agricultural scientist with a background in herbal biology.”

Gauge’s child actor knew how to light up his eyes. They sparkled as he turned. “Truly?”

The father actor smiled, saying, “Yes, son. But first, drink your tonic.”

The boy made a face, and the audience laughed.

Except Mrs. Tenz. She wiped away a tear which interested Axis. Were all mothers so compassionate? Lya had been…

As Dr. Tempest’s actor was introduced, the theater clapped. Some people cheered. He was well-loved, but it was the appearance of a fair-skinned young woman in a white wig which made the entire house stand in silence with their heads lowered.

Axis went along with the audience, but he glanced up at Lexia. She was standing, and it was obvious she felt emotional at the tribute.

Winter’s Diamond.

Lya’s actress met Gauge’s. “Hello, little snow. Would you like to stay with the adults, or would you like to make some friends your own age?”

The boy looked interested and followed her to a little girl with another white wig and a little boy with a burgundy one. Axis could remember meeting Gauge, and he’d been much smaller than the boy on stage.

“Little Bones.”

Something about the nickname bothered Axis. Why would a father taunt their ill child that way? Or perhaps Axis was projecting his own terrible childhood onto Gauge?

No matter.

A few scenes went on to cover one or two play dates before Gauge’s dad discovered the Ignis crater when the boy was nine, and the play dates stopped. Now, the play made it appear there was causation and correlation between those events, but Axis remembered the truth.

“Get away from her, Gauge.” Axis pulled Lexia’s face, yellow with tears, into his chest and held her. “Don’t come near us again.”

Young Snow had never returned, choosing instead to return his focus onto his illness and the crater’s resources.

A twinge tightened Axis’ chest, and he tried not to draw parallels between the present and the past. He glanced up at Gauge’s theater box to see it hidden behind a screen and wondered if the Count recalled the moment as vividly.

The play did not address whatever had sent Gauge’s father into exile within the scientific community. Only that shortly after, he’d lost his job, fell into a steep decline, and died, leaving Gauge an orphan at seventeen.

In the next scene, they’d replaced the teenage actor playing Gauge with a more robust one, staring through a telescope and marking down some calculations. Then he ran to a terminal—something Axis hadn’t seen in a decade—and made some more calculations. The youth dropped his pen and ran to a phone, dialing in a hurry to say, “I need to speak with Galactic Leader Yed. This is Gauge Snow, and don’t waste time. This is an emergency.”

A disembodied voice answered, listened to the emergency, and then laughed through the theater. “A solar EMP our scientists have missed? Boy, you’re as mad as your father.”

Spurred, the young man assured, “If you won’t take action, I will.”

Sets and actors moved across the stage in a montage of copper mining, smelting, and engineering. Steam pipes formed the functional foundation for the domes. Leon’s actor introduced Gauge’s actor to a rather fit man playing Axis’ father.

The actor playing Valve said, “You really believe a pulse will take out our electronics, fail unprepared climate systems, and send our planet into an ice age? And you also buy into this Leon?”

Dr. Tempest’s actor nodded.

The young man playing Gauge faced off with the bigger actor. “I do, and I want to protect as many people as I can.”

Together, the triumvirate as Winter knew it developed the glass domes, but only enough of them to cover three cities. In an unprecedented feat of ingenuity, they used the last of their time with electronics to fashion the tunnels for the trains connecting the cities. Meanwhile, each faction weaned their people off electronics.

This made Axis wince. He could remember his father confiscating his phone, terminal, and projection screen as a teenager. But the old man hadn’t cited a mechanized apocalypse. Instead, Valve said it was because Axis had misbehaved at Dr. Tempest’s house so badly, Leon had demanded Valve do something about it. Fourteen at the time, Axis had cried thinking he’d disappointed the one man who’d been good to Axis his entire life. He’d only learned after the world as they knew it had ended that Valve had lied.

Lya had told Axis the truth.

The woman playing her and the girl playing Lexia appeared now and then, but mostly as supportive ornamentation to sponsor Leon’s motivation for preparing against the eventual doomsday. Axis could remember Valve did it solely for profit, but the play didn’t touch on this. In fact, it gave the Flicker household a wide berth, leaving Axis curious if it was out of respect or out of details to go on.

Either way, the day finally came.

Electronics went offline, the Founding Families raised the domes, and Winter began.

All thanks to Gauge.

Axis wasn’t sure what Gauge had left out, but he’d always known the Founding story had never completely added up.

Snow was hiding something.