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met who showed a semblance of loyalty. “Let Sam know when you can. Looks like I’m going dark for a while.”

“Of course, Michael. I’ll keep the place in hand for your return.”

A boy shouted from the top of the staircase ascending the foyer. Shit, Michael thought. He’d forgotten.

He handed his case to Rikard as he looked up to Brayllen, standing beside his sister Rosalyn.

“Go on,” he told Rikard and Helene. “I’ll be coming up the rear.” He muttered under his breath, “I’m the world’s worst babysitter.”

Brayllen started down the stairs despite Rosalyn’s hissing demand that he stay put.

“Are you leaving, Michael?”

“Yeah, dude. So, look. Urgent business came up.”

“Are you coming back tonight? Remember, we were going up to the roof and I was going to show you the G’hladi system when it rose to position.”

“Don’t reckon I’ll be back for a few days, at least. You and Rosie will be great until Sam gets back from the GPM.”

Brayllen frowned. “Is it because of what I did on the veranda?”

“What? No. In fact, if you have a hankering for more poltash, we have more pipes. Ask Merton here.”

“You never introduced me to your friend.”

“Sorry, but that friend’s waiting for me, Brayllen. I gotta blow this joint. For everybody’s sake, just hang out with your sister and you’ll be fine. Ain’t it about time for dinner?”

Brayllen crossed his arms. “Does Sam know about this? You said you’d watch after us.”

Michael felt his patience slipping. “Didn’t you say you’ll be an adult in three months? Right now, you sound like you’re nine.”

A pall of shame fell over the boy’s features. “You’re right, Michael. I don’t know what comes over me.”

“Here.” He gave the boy a cursory hug. “Check out the stars without me. Good man?”

They high-fived, but Brayllen did not smile. Michael didn’t have time to play counselor.

After he left the house, he turned back once and saw Brayllen at the vestibule, Rosalyn standing at his side.

He hoped Rikard’s prediction was accurate: The enemy would not attack a Chancellor residence without Solomon combatants.

As the sun set, Michael jumped onboard Rikard’s uplift and prepared for his impossible journey to take another unlikely detour. He was going to war.

 

24

B RAYLLEN HELMUT HAD HIS FILL of being lied to by adults, bossed around by a sister born three minutes before him, and being treated by everyone else as a child half his age. He lost all patience when he heard lines beginning with in time, you’ll see, be patient, trust me, I’ll be back, tomorrow is, and the worst of all – be strong.

Michael seemed a promising change from the typical Chancellor harangue. Didn’t care about protocol, didn’t try to manipulate, had his own bizarre language. But now he was out the door, too.

Brayllen’s darkening mood got no boost from his sister, who ate dinner with him in their guest suite. Neither wanted to eat in the dining room without Sam or Michael. Both picked over their food.

“They’ll move on from us,” Rosalyn said, her tone indignant. “They’re just waiting for confirmation.”

“Confirmation of what?”

“That our parents are dead.”

Brayllen set down his fork. “I know.”

“So, you see it, too. We’re only here because Sam feels guilty and Michael feels obligated. They treat us like children because they aren’t from this universe. They don’t understand how to relate.”

“Michael thought I was too young to smoke a pipe.”

“You see? They don’t know what to do with us.”

“Do you think they know about Mom and Dad and won’t tell us?”

Rosalyn chewed and swallowed. “They probably assume. If they had confirmation, they’d move on from us. Contact an agency.”

“What if they never find out for sure?”

“They’ll manufacture an excuse. Besides, we’ll be adults soon. We’ll have control of our parents’ holdings, or what’s left of them. Brayllen, I told you not to get close to these people. This arrangement isn’t going to last much longer.”

Brayllen dropped his eyes and sighed. “You’re right, like usual.” He dug into his food before another thought crossed his mind. “I still think they’re lying about Freida and Carmen. They told us both were killed in the terrorist attack on the station, but I think it’s something else.”

“I’m sure of it. They were alive when we were rescued, but no one ever spoke of them again. Remember, Brayllen, the only people we could ever truly trust lived on G’hladi. Earthers are different. Even the best Chancellors here can’t be trusted.”

Brayllen smiled for the first time in hours. “First thing I’m going to do when I take my inheritance, I’m going to book passage for G’hladi. Earth just isn’t what I dreamed.”

For the next two hours, Brayllen distracted himself with visions of life on the colony where he felt most at home. Every time he opened a holocube for game play, he quickly fell into boredom.

He did admit one thing: The wide-open spaces of the Pynn compound – including his bedroom suite – were liberating.

When at last he felt sleepy enough to dose off, Brayllen pulled back the silk covers and dimmed the lights. A sharp echo from the past bounced off the shadows. It was Mom.

“Brayllen, stay close. Brayllen, don’t go with him. Brayllen …”

He slumped onto the bed as the room flickered in and out of his vision. He was still here, still in the compound. And yet, Brayllen also knew he was somewhere else.

The mattress dipped when a visitor joined him nearby. Brayllen smelled a familiar host. It was a wonderful perfume, deep and intoxicating, sweet as cherries and pungent as basil. Brayllen faced his visitor, a tall bearded man, and all his anger washed away.

“Hello, Brother James. What took you so long?”

PART TWO ATTRITION

There’s twenty kinds of shit

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