Chapter 2: 01: SUSPENSION

Harvest arrived once a year, though in the home of Captain Elias John Pendergast, the holiday played on repeat. Footage of his father’s execution hovered in the air, the image display amplified to the size of a wall. Looping images displayed the exact moment John Pendergast died.

Elias memorized every detail of the clip leaked to Union gossip magazines before anyone else. Sinum master Ba’l Akil sliced John’s throat countless times as Elias maneuvered through the patio furniture; he marked each of the captured twenty seconds in his mind. His home lay nestled in the snow-capped mountains of North-North, where the altitude turned his patio into a balcony. Ipir’s perpetual sun sprayed amber across the horizon in every direction, and a supernatural chill struck Elias as he scratched his bare torso. Ether surge. Perfect timing, with Harvest two days away. He crumpled the paper note he held in his hand.

Soon, he'd burn the note in the new firepit he’d purchased from Union's most premier catalogue, Altirian Elite. The letter from current union general Stephen Olet contained an insult piled onto the many Elias already suffered. Fantastic thing, that pit—cost five figures flat to obtain the piece imbued with particles of humanity’s crashed generation ship. Its design reflected firelight in tranquil pattern, and the thought of destroying Olet’s note in it added more charm.

Beside the footage of John hovered a hologram of a somber man with gray hair, who watched Elias unravel the note and scan the general’s signature. Year 999, Olet had written large at the bottom, and Elias imagined Olet writing at some important desk with dark lenses drooped low. Hell of a guy to send him an ultimatum about Silatem’s future days before Harvest.

“The eyelids bother me, Shawn. Looks like he’s staring.” Elias rubbed his own out of habit, the same icy color as John's. “They crowned him with flowers like a ghoul. I refused to confirm the carcass was dad’s ‘til I saw his eyes. Couldn’t recognize my father.”

The man in the hologram absorbed his sentiments. Dressed in the tailored uniform of a Union Ministry executive, the man’s badge displayed his surname and rank: HEYWOOD, S6 ADMIRAL, MINISTRY OF DEFENSE. A four-centimeter pin of crossed swords signaled he was the guildmaster of the Hunter’s Guild and managed Union’s hunting contracts. Beside it hung a nondescript black shield hinting at a deeper role Elias shared. Both men, scheduled to sit at a sector review later, would see each other that day, so there was no need for Heywood to call. However, he did so anyway. Had to make sure Elias still functioned.

“Valid. Wound’s always fresh. However, looping that footage guarantees you’ll never forget.” The steel color of his eyes hopped over the space in search of the clip from over the frames of his sun-lenses. Elias stared back.

“I don’t want to forget.”

“I understand. Won’t hold this suspension against you, either. Delaurin's conduct was unbecoming of a senator and he crossed a major line with that outburst.”

Elias darkened, remembering Senator Delaurin’s interjection. The insult came during a somber moment on an embassy floor, and the shock of it was a blow to Elias—though not like what Elias had done in response.

“What he said annoyed you, too.”

“Aye. I might've thrown one myself, rude little shit. I’m not too old.” Heywood flashed a faint smile, the same that returned whenever he remembered his younger and stronger days half a century ago. “Shame you won’t continue John’s mission. Union needs impartial leadership in the ministries, as you’ve witnessed.”

Elias winced. "Don’t start.”

Heywood chuckled. “Come on. Let me dream the impossible. There's no one else viable from your stock. Your brother’s a kid, and a Concord like Delaurin. Who knows where his priorities will lie later? Full integration, he might say, because _it’s their planet_. He'll blame us for why the cults hate us.” Heywood hummed and continued. “Ovadia won’t leave the courts or the orphanage. You won’t step down from Silatem. Doubt I’ll see another Pendergast in the seat.”

“There’ll be other candidates." Elias flicked a dismissive hand. "What about you?”

“That’s an idea. You can run my campaign.” Heywood rumbled a laugh. “Clean up your reputation first before we move forward, though. Let’s avoid more of your scandals.”

Elias chuckled, though the light smile at Heywood’s jostling faded as he returned to real matters. “You’re right, Union needs impartial guidance. The parasite infection takes another host every day. This constant unrest from hostile wildland hotspots complicates matters. We need an effective resolution.”

“Let’s hope the peace we’ve won so far keeps things running.”

“Let’s hope.” Elias resumed pacing as John’s execution looped to the start. He scowled, returning to Heywood’s mention of his suspension. “Assault." His mouth twisted downward. "Battery and attempted murder for a single punch. Unreal.”

Heywood turned toward the figures behind him preparing his vessel and watched them for a moment as he replied. “It’s an unwritten rule for Concords to hate hunters. Doesn’t help that your body’s registered as a lethal weapon.”

“I acted out of order. Fine.” Elias paused beside the pit to stoke the flames, and the warm flickers cast orange tones against his skin. “Still an idiot move to suspend Silatem for two weeks. That’s overcorrection and a danger.”

Heywood’s head bobbed to agree. “Aye. Short-sighted.”

Elias waved the note at the hologram of Heywood. “Steve scribbled this himself on real tree scrapings with ink. I’m honored he’d waste the time and fluid, and I’ll barter with you on what he wrote. Remember—he’s a proud Concord serving a second eight-year term.”

Heywood’s weathered stare appeared again over his lenses. “Olet sends apologies for Delaurin with a stern reminder of your own conduct. Please recall what Union’s done for your family throughout our settlement. After one thousand years, it’s time to rejoin. We can help Silatem—and your suspension—if you agree.”

“Near word for word, mate.” Elias smiled. “You forgot a half-apology for the payload that took out Akil those years ago. Bastard was a ghost ‘til that day. Not a chirp from UIA, even with my active license.”

“I was shocked, too. But I know you'd do the same in his seat if you had the shot, regardless of your friends.”

“Aye. Anything to stop Akil, because we all agreed he needed to be eliminated.” Elias turned away. “I accepted the explanation. Doesn't mean I like it.”

Heywood gestured at the bottles littering the patio around Elias. “Figured you'd open my gift right away.”

“Pried open the prize the moment I saw the emblem. “ Elias passed the crates stacked throughout the patio. “The Reserve, you old dog—five hundred years in the making. Elder blend.” He tapped the metallic emblem on the crates, an interlaced golden ‘A’ and ‘E’. “Inventory disappeared as fast as the tag number activated.”

“Right. Had my eye on it like you.” Heywood shot Elias a jovial wink. “Enjoy that reminder of your boyhood home from thousands of clicks away.”

As Elias looked at the debris strewn across the patio, remembering Altir and his youth, an existence that seemed a lifetime away, though he still had yet another lifetime to live. A tone pealed as his fingers ran over the crate’s emblem, the sound signaling a second transmission overlapping Heywood’s. A different Union Ministry badge flashed from the projector.

“Nostalgia’s hitting right. Thanks.” The second transmission pealed another time. “I’ll reignite my buzz after our call. I'm ignoring an MOJ link as we speak.”

Heywood nodded. “Ovadia’s fundraiser. That’s tonight.”

Elias stared at the snow-capped peaks, a flash of his stern mother’s face rising at the mention of her. “Yep.”

“I sent a donation her way. She’s done well for sector security.”

“She’ll appreciate that.”

“Your RSVP?”

“That’s why she’s calling. She must know about the suspension.” Elias stretched an empty grin. “Wants to chew me out. That’s nostalgia for her.”

“Reconnecting’s not a bad idea, mate. Been six years since you stopped by.”

He narrowed his lids. “Five before that.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Season’s tough on everyone.”

“Yeah.”

“Take the transmission.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“See you later.”

Heywood stopped him before he disconnected. A pause added a cooled the warmth of their conversation. “Now that you mention the review—let’s speak after the meeting.”

Elias unfolded Olet’s note, glancing at the projector. “About what?”

“Our warehouse issue. Got a thread. Huge mess.”

He heightened at the topic. “I’ll make time.”

“Thank you.”

The transmission dropped. Heywood’s hint at intelligence circled his thoughts as he prepared for Ovadia’s link. Once connected, she’d interrogate him about Silatem to justify using her access, and he hated that. She knew he hated that. With the suspension, she’d be worse than before.

He settled on the chaise and brought a bottle of Black Dot to his lips. The mountains of Vangral stood behind John’s execution, observing John’s end. In his darkest fantasies, he tore off Akil’s eyelids, and he’d keep the warlord sentient for a while to feel every second.

“Airstrike.” He huffed. “What a joke.”

The same melody from earlier returned, accompanied by a hologram of rotating luminous orbs. A Central Sector ministry ID listed a woman’s title and name. Elias accepted the link.

“COM.” He pointed the bottle at the projector. “Accept transmission.”

Ovadia Pendergast, sector level arbiter for Central Territory, appeared wearing the green-colored robes of the Ministry of Justice. A bright gold shield pinned on her breast flashed with her movements, and her stern nature reflected in her tight features. Her shrewd gaze assessed Elias and her mouth turned down.

“Good God, Elias. Are you naked?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Put something on and pretend to have decency when speaking to your mother.”

Elias glanced at himself. He wasn’t naked that exact second, though he’d been nude earlier. He gestured at his shorts. “I’ve got something on. Relax. It’s not like I sit around waiting for your call, Arbiter. Life goes on even if we don’t chat.”

“Splendid attitude. How laissez-faire.” She snorted. “You’ve got a whore with you. That’s why you’re smug. A giggler like the girls who lined up for you to get home, or another shameless type from the X feeds. That was your worst era—_Playboy Pendergast._ How embarrassing.”

Elias rubbed his jaw as the many women from his past filtered past him. “I prefer that trouble. Giggling. Shameless.”

“You’ll never outgrow your phases.”

“Life’s a phase.”

“Oh. Poor you. Won’t expect an heir from you this lifetime.” She waved a hand in his direction. “You’ll do more aimless horseshit until you die, leaving Silatem as someone else’s problem. Under your name, you’ll destroy a thousand years of your clan’s sacrifice.”

Elias grunted. “We’re touching every topic today.”

“I worry about you. The news I hear isn’t as good as I want.” Ovadia sunk from unseen weight and touched her forehead with her fingertips. “A Pendergast needs to run Silatem, and it won’t be Adam. He can’t bear your life of war. The shift to peace started with him.”

“I know that.” Elias closed his eyes at the reminder of the stark difference between his life and his younger brother’s. “I’ll train my successor when it’s time.”

“You’re thirty-eight, and in a decade, you’re halfway to the grave. You won’t turn into one of these immortals.” A dry laugh escaped her. “We’ll keep our conversation light, though, if that’s your mood.”

“It is.”

“You look like shit.”

Elias swiped a sedasig from the table. He inhaled and a cloud of synthetic herbs misted around him, mimicking the tranquilizing effect of an immortal’s bite.

“Hello, Ma.” He feigned a smile. “Lovely weather along the terminator. Heard Capitol City’s extra temperate, and tat’s perfect for Harvest festivals. You’ve got that big parade coming up.”

“Aye. Weather’s fantastic. Surprised you noticed.”

“I pay attention.”

“I’m glad.” Ovadia dusted away imagined lint as she surveyed the patio. “Bottles—I’m counting them from here. You remind me of John. He’d also say he was fine, but kept a bottle close.”

Elias tossed Olet’s note into the flames, The sheet turned black in the heat, burning like anything else. “Drinks help.”

“There’s a point when your behavior means you only care about yourself.”

“I know my limit.” He gestured for her to move on. “You contacted for a reason. Get to it.”

“Senator Delaurin—”

“He’s a dick.”

“You punched him.”

“Clean right hook.” Elias mimed his expert strike. “Perfect.”

“Broken jaw.”

“Yeah. Looked ugly quick.” Elias snickered. “MOJ has excellent health coverage. You know about that. He’ll be as irritating as ever next season.”

Ovadia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Not the point.”

“Right. Sorry.” Elias turned on a downcast expression. “I said I’d pay everyone’s fines and cover his treatment. Be the bigger person, since clearly I’m the stronger one.” He closed his eyes. “Got your invite for tonight. Can’t confirm, but I remember you’re up for reelection. You’ll win.”

“It’s the name.” Ovadia dismissed his confidence. “I married your father. It’s the Pendergast popularity.”

“No. Dad said you’d do fine without him and he was right. Shawn sent you a donation.”

“Thanks to you both.” She shifted position. Elias spotted the familiar view of the family kitchen around her. Little had changed from his memories, though the shades of the counters and cabinets were adjusted to Harvest shades. Like the shades of the Ipirian sun in Central, the room wrapped Ovadia in rusted gold. “What you’re not saying is you won’t attend, even if Silatem’s suspended.”

“I placed it on my calendar.”

“Oh. We’re on the calendar. You’ve done your job.” Ovadia chortled. “The Khelot’s lovely daughter is singing a hymn for your father. She’s got a powerful voice like her mother. We need more events like this where Concord and Peace find common ground.”

“I’ll try to make it. Affair sounds special and right.” Elias smiled, though Ovadia missed the effort by turning away. “Suspended doesn’t mean no obligations. At oh-six hundred, I’m headed to a guild review with Arbiter Kip ‘Kippy’ Madsen that’ll probably go nowhere. 12-hour window reserved. Fun.”

“Emergency audit.” Ovadia’s deep-blue gaze swept over Elias as she identified the reason for that review. “You’ve had issues with your warehouses. Made an alarming spike in resupply requests. You, above the rest, need to mind Union’s limits.”

“The requests aren’t our fault. This situation’s ridiculous, and I’m correcting the record.” He rested his head against the chaise’s cushions. “Tough running a business when Union coddles violent activists, and new collectives appear every year. I’m feeling the Harvest spirit. Aren’t you?”

“I can’t give an opinion. Delaurin’s a colleague. You’re a foreign entity. You got off easy when many want Silatem to fail.”

“Agreed.”

“Goodbye, Elias. Go back to whatever, or whoever, you were doing.”

“Hold on.” He recalled Heywood’s push to try harder, and regrouped effort to be friendlier. “How are you? How’s the family?” He rattled questions he thought a normal son would ask. “Your end stays away because of Silatem. I’d be nervous too, if I were a civilian. How’s Adam?”

“Fine, fine, yes, that’s true, and fine.”

“Kid’s seventeen. Turning eighteen. Getting old.”

“Aye. And it’s been—”

“Fifteen years.”

“For John.”

“If my schedule stays open, I’ll stop by.” Elias tried the smile a last time. “My reputation’s not the best, but Silatem and her president endorses you.”

“Appreciate your loyalty.” Ovadia sounded listless. Elias couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her happy. “Good day, Captain. Happy Harvest. Be sure to give your vice president a day off.”

The transmission closed. Elias stared at the projector. His family reminded him of what humanity lost with John’s death—a hero to many. He reached for the bottle, and an audible yawn caught his attention instead.

He turned his head and spotted a short, nude woman cutting through the patio, soft breasts bouncing with her strut. Rose Desjard, Arbiter Kip Madsen’s secretary and his current lover, approached. He closed the looping footage of John with a short gesture.

“Don’t stop for me. Whatever helps .” She gestured at the projector. “I’ve seen that footage myself many times, like everyone else. I tried to imagine how you feel.”

Elias stiffened at the reality that she’s seen him watching the footage. Staring at his father’s death on loop wasn’t a great way to entertain his dates. “Well, I don’t want to watch it with you. That matter’s unrelated.”

She shrugged. “You won’t scare me.”

“Nothing to fear.” Hostility tinged his retort. “A swarm of inbred freaks jerking off to their cowardice, wearing dunce caps and bargain Harvest costumes.”

A smile touched Rose’s lips. “Those horned crowns are an Ipirian thing. Honors their deities, I’ve heard—though I’m only part native.”

“When humans chant at shadows we call it psychosis.” Bitterness swept Elias. “My father wouldn’t have accepted Akil’s invite if he wasn’t loyal to his word. I told him he didn’t owe anything to that fucking animal or his followers.” Elias glanced at the patio doors. “I locked those. How’d you get out here?”

Rose turned toward the doors as well. “Thought you forgot to seal them. You’ve been out of it since we came back to your place.” She kicked an empty bottle. “We’ve also been drinking.”

Elias frowned. “I don’t forget important details.”

“You aren’t perfect. It’s fine.” She shifted closer to straddle his knee. “But I’ll leave so you can lock it.”

Humor crossed his face, and he traced a circle around her navel, nudging her legs apart. “No need. You’re already here.” She shivered as he grazed her. “How long were you standing there?”

“Not long.”

“What did you hear?”

“Nothing.”

“My calls are for me, not you. Never sneak around my place.”

“I wasn’t sneaking around.”

His intensity bored into her. “Those doors won’t be unlocked again.”

“Fine.” Her stare circled Elias without reaction. “I respect your privacy. Rude to cross a line.” She caressed his neck. “No one saw me though, right?”

“No. But no one close to me talks anymore.”

“You still have ties with your allies from your Defense days.”

“My service history’s public. It’s why I’m still called Captain.” He absorbed the sight of Rose’s tanned form with a patch of midnight below. “No credentials needed to see my honors.” He grazed a palm along her hips.

“Yes. Impressive. I follow your Bachelor’s Bio.”

She guided his face to her breasts, and he grazed the tips with his teeth. “Lots of women do.”

“You’re wealthy, powerful, gorgeous—under forty.” Rose tossed her thick hair. “Women want to catch your eye—or seed.”

“Seed?” Elias laughed. Ceasing his fertility blockers was the last thought on his mind. “Slow the romance, starlight.”

“I’ll leave, since I ruined our connection.” Rose gestured toward the exit and eased away. “We’ll be at the meeting later. Nothing’s lost.”

“Mood’s fine.” Elias drew her back. Her compact figure climbed over him, and her shallow breaths struck his lips. “There’s too much on my mind, but when you’re in front of me I think less.”

“Good.” Her dark gaze flitted to his chest.

“Pay attention to this.”

He guided her hand to his shorts, and she purred as she grasped him.

“You’re hard. Suitable.”

“Suitable?” He shifted under her touch.

“Yes.”

Her kisses trailed down his body. She undressed him and knelt, enveloping him with her mouth. He dropped his head against the chaise’s cusions and languished there until he’d primed. She sank onto him after, and the sound of their bodies colliding peppered the quiet.

He stood when their fever heightened and took Rose with him, leaning her against a wall. She uttered something foul in native tongue, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“Is that it?” She grunted as her eyes rolled backward. “Fuck me harder!”

Elias obliged.

Encounters with Rose, and women like Rose, distracted Elias for a while. In his new firepit, Olet’s words crumbled to dust.