The next morning, Eden’s gone before I even have a chance to see him. I walk out of my bedroom to see his door already flung open, revealing the mess of his bed and his pile of clothes on the floor. His dishes are already in the kitchen sink.
Figures. It’s the last day of his exams, anyway, so maybe he had to head out early. I remind myself of this, trying not to let his absence bother me as I freshen up and pull on my suit.
On any other day, I probably would give in and track his location, just to make sure he’s where he says he is. But today, thankfully, there’s something else to distract me.
June’s coming into town.
The call pops up in my view right as I head out the door. “Hope you slept well, Wing,” Jessan says. “The Elector and his party are scheduled to land at AIS headquarters in an hour. You on your way yet?”
“Stepping out the door right now,” I reply.
There’s a pause on the other side, followed by Jessan’s amused voice. “You sound more nervous than usual. Could it be because of someone on the Republic’s plane?”
I scowl at her laughter. Everyone here knows about my past with June, apparently. Who knew a bunch of foreigners were always watching the news about us and fabricating their own ideas about two fugitives on the run?
“Your mind’s playing tricks on you, sweetheart,” I reply, trying to keep my voice nonchalant this time. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Sure, sure.” I can hear Jessan’s smile in her answer. “It’s okay if you’re distracted today, you know.”
“I’m not distracted.”
“Yeah, that’s a convincing statement. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve asked about when the Republic’s going to visit us.”
“Ten minutes, Jess.”
“Right, okay. See you soon. And if you have trouble finding words after you see Miss June Iparis today, just tell us—”
I roll my eyes and hang up the call before Jessan can keep going.
But as I walk alone to the elevators that will take me several floors up and twenty buildings over to where the AIS headquarters are, my thoughts keep wandering to June.
It’s not like she’s here just to see me. She’ll be accompanying her Elector, guarding his safety while he meets with Antarctica’s President. Maybe she won’t care much about whether or not I’m there. All the notice she gave me, after all, was a quick text message several weeks ago to let me know that she’d be in Ross City.
But I don’t care. The image of her lingers in my mind as I step into an elevator. For all that I hate Jessan’s teasing, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about June since I found out she was visiting. My dreams last night were an exhausting blend of nightmares—some about the shadowy Dominic Hann I’ve been pursuing, some about Eden’s safety … and some about June.
Visions of June uninterested in seeing me today. Of her turning away and heading back to the Republic’s plane. Of her being polite and distant. We’ve seen each other only once after a decade apart. What if we’ve changed too much? What if we’re just not meant to be?
 |
The AIS headquarters is a lavish spread of offices accompanied with a landing pad on its top floor. During my time here, I’ve seen all sorts of world leaders touch down to talk to our President while several of our AIS agent teams follow along.
But this time, June is going to be accompanying the Elector. It leaves me that much more on edge as I head up to the top floor to join the rest of the agents.
Jessan and Lara are already here, out of at least a dozen agents who have gathered into two lines leading up to the landing pad. A series of barricades separate them from the rest of the floor, where a barrage of reporters are already waiting, their cameras clicking away at our agents.
I frown when Jessan gives me a humored smile. At least Lara approaches me with a more serious face. She swipes her fingers through the air, as if downloading something, and then moments later, I get a
message from her that pops up in my view.
“We tracked down the rough location of a drone race that happened last night,” she tells me as I fall into place beside them. “It was somewhere in the northeast quadrant of the Undercity.”
I hear an edge to her voice and look up at her. “And?” I ask.
She hesitates. “And,” she replies, “I heard that Dominic Hann himself was spotted at the semifinals yesterday.”
My thoughts waver momentarily from June to Lara’s words. I look sharply at her. “He was there? In person?”
“Apparently. I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t sent some footage.”
She shares another file with me. When I pull it up, I see a video clip set at the start of what definitely looks like a drone race gathering, of someone addressing a young man as Mr. Hann. He greets one of the racers that I can’t make out. I frown as I watch the video again. The man looks just barely older than me, but even with the poor quality of this video, the ripple effect he has on the audience is unmistakable.
I watch the clip again, trying to make out more details of the square’s surroundings. But the video is way too dark and grainy. “No location pinpoint yet on exactly where this happened?”
“No, but we’re checking out the streets to see if we can find something recognizable.”
“Good.” I nod at Lara. “We’ll find our way to the finals tonight,” I tell her.
Our conversation cuts short as a blast of wind hits us from somewhere high above. When I look up, I see a plane materialize through the clouds, lowering itself through Ross City’s biodome to hover over our landing pad. Its tail is painted in streaks of black and red. The Republic’s colors.
The Elector and his team are here. June is here.
All our conversations stop as the elevator to the top floor opens now, and out step President Ikari and his personal bodyguards. He straightens as he walks down the pathway toward our landing pad, a serious smile on his face. Around me, the other agents all stir to attention. I do the same. My heart starts to race. Overhead, the roar of the Republic’s jet engine drowns out all other noise.
I’ve mouthed off at country leaders, blown up airships, and survived being shot—but I’ll tell you this, I’ve still never felt more cracked than I do right now, minutes before the Republic’s Elector touches down. The wind whips my hair back as we wait, until finally the jet rests in the
center of the pad’s circle.
I’m walking out toward the jet’s landing ramp before it even completely unfurls. Across from me, Jessan and Lara watch for my command. As camera flashes go off behind us, I point them to the opposite side of me, then pull a fourth agent to join me before motioning for the others to stay with the President. Then we get into formation on either side of the ramp and wait as a silhouette appears at the jet’s open door.
I haven’t seen Anden Stavropoulos, the Republic’s Elector, in person since I left for Ross City. He looks older than I remember, even compared with his interviews on TV, but there’s a comfort in his gaze that wasn’t there before. A confidence in his position that he didn’t use to have.
The cameras go into overdrive. I look back at the reporters, surveying the audience carefully before studying the windows of the skyscrapers on either side of us.
Then I turn to see to those emerging behind him. There’s his expected bevy of bodyguards, same as our President’s, as well as his Princeps- Elect, Mariana. On Anden’s other side is his fiancée—Faline Fedelma, a new presence in the Senate, and the same girl who had once taken me to a banquet in Denver.
Behind me, I can hear murmurs from the reporters as they frantically take photos of the recently engaged couple.
“—had been dating for several years before they made it public—” “—match well, with her poise and—”
“—heard that Commander Iparis congratulated them—”
The mention of June’s name thuds through my heart. I keep my position, but my body still leans slightly forward as I search for her.
Then she’s stepping out too, with her guards trailing her down the ramp.
Commander June Iparis is a vision—gold epaulettes shining on her shoulders, gold threads looping down the sides of her sleeves, her cape long and dark, crisp white gloves shining as she keeps one hand permanently on the hilt of a gun at her waist. As they walk, she’s already gesturing wordless instructions to her men, assigning two of them to one side of the Elector and his fiancée, two to the other.
Her head is held high, her gaze steady and unwavering.
So many things have changed about her since the first time we met. She was a girl then, full of anger and grief; now she’s a woman, poised
and mature and sure of her place in the world.
But in some ways, she hasn’t changed at all. I still watch her in the same way I did the first moment I saw her on the streets, when she stepped into that Skiz duel ring. I still marvel at that glint of fierce intelligence in her eyes, how awake and alive and invincible she seems. I am still entranced.
Her eyes are searching too. They stop when they settle on me.
It could be my imagination, but there’s a slight blush on her cheeks right as she passes me. I have to remind myself not to break out of my formation. Then she’s sweeping by with her soldiers, and I’m closing our ranks to follow behind them, and the roar of the press consumes us all as the Elector shakes hands with President Ikari.
As they pose for photos, I make my way through the crowd behind June, who is standing off to the side with her soldiers. She nods once at the sight of me, then looks away to pay attention to the Elector and the President’s conversation.
I try to concentrate on guarding my President too. But my thoughts whirl like a storm through my head. Was there really a time when I could instinctively know her thoughts? When we had such a comfortable rapport with each other that we could share anything? Or have we always had this strange chemistry—where I have no idea what to say to her, but would do anything to be near her again?
I must have lingered too long on these thoughts, because one moment we’re standing separately and watching over our world leaders … and the next, we’re closing ranks behind them and walking next to each other. “Agent Wing,” June says with a tilt of her head and the arch of a
slender eyebrow.
Damn. She can still make me weak with a single, searing gaze. “Commander Iparis,” I reply, forcing myself to stay formal and
polite. Her eyes dart away for a moment and she clears her throat. We don’t say anything else. Instead, we keep walking in an awkward silence, keenly aware of the other’s presence.
Finally, when the two men start to head down the walkway and we follow in the wake of their entourage, June turns her head slightly toward me. “When are you free?” she asks.
My heart lifts at her question. Maybe she’s been looking forward to seeing me too.
“Tonight,” I reply. “After the President’s meeting, I report back to the
AIS headquarters for a while. I’m out at sunset.”
For the first time, she looks directly at me. “Would you like to have dinner?” she asks. “It’d be nice to catch up.”
Our words are formal and stilted. Is it because it’s been so long? Because we’re older now? I give her a nod and try not to sound too eager. “I’d like that,” I reply.
She smiles a little. It softens everything about her, and I find myself wanting to lean in and pull her to me for a kiss. At one point in our lives, that had been something I could do naturally. Now? I feel like I’m stretched tight between two poles, unable to breathe.
“Great,” she says, and her voice stays formal. “Where should I meet you?”
“Tell me where you’re staying,” I answer in a low voice. This time, I’m unable to keep the pull out of my reply. “I’ll come to you.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and I find myself wondering how I managed to bear ten years without her in my life.
Then the President and the Elector are shaking hands and moving toward the elevators to head downstairs, and we’re all following along with them. Our units are about to diverge.
My heart beats rapidly at the thought of meeting up with her later. All I can do is give June a slight bow. “Commander,” I say to her, then wink once and turn away to join the rest of my fellow agents.
|
Sunset in Antarctica, of course, isn’t really sunset at all. It’s a simulation created by the biodome encasing Ross City. Still, it doesn’t make it any less beautiful, and by the time I meet up with June in front of the hotel where the Elector is staying, swaths of pink and purple are streaking the sky.
Their hotel is perched on the highest floor of a luxury skyscraper, a property that covers ten floors from the top down, with each of its walkways connecting to other skyscrapers adorned with lush, potted trees and strips of grass. From up here, you get a view of the entire twinkling upper half of the city as it dips into the clouds.
I’m perched in one of the trees lining either side of the hotel entrance when I see June emerge from the lobby. She’s changed out of her formal military uniform into a sleek, comfortable shirt and coat, her tall black boots pulled over her jeans.
My heartbeat quickens as she looks around for me. This angle, looking at her from a perch somewhere above, is so familiar. It’s how I’d first seen her, after all, with her hands on her hips as she challenged Kaede to a Skiz duel. I admire her for a moment, then step off from the branch and land lightly on my feet before her, my hands in my pockets.
She almost startles, but her expression turns amused an instant later at the sight of me. “You still like making your entrances,” she says.
I grin, relieved at her reaction. “Only for you, yeah?” I reply. She laughs. “And still as insufferable as always, I see.”
Insufferable. Was I that bad? I think back, trying to pinpoint a specific moment when I might have been insufferable to her.
At my expression, she just laughs harder. “It’s fine,” she says. We pause for a moment, shuffling awkwardly, before she continues. “So. Where are you taking me?”
Even as we do this shy dance around each other, I can see poise in every line of her body. She seems like she has her entire life together in a way that I might never be able to do. I wonder if I should be acting more mature around her, so I give her a polite nod and start guiding us down the walkway.
“Someplace where we can catch up properly,” I reply.
Everything about her here feels both right and strange. The way her hair occasionally swings enough to brush my shoulder. The slight distance we keep between us when we walk beside each other. Even the way we keep trying to talk at the same time.
We take a seat at a restaurant at the highest point in Ross City, overlooking almost all the myriad skyscrapers. I can pinpoint exactly when the sunset fades into evening because the color of June’s hair shifts from a warm, dark brown to a midnight raven’s black.
Maybe this moment doesn’t affect her in the same way. I can’t be sure.
“How’s life treating you in—” we both say over our plates, then stop and laugh.
June continues when I stay silent. “You seem like you’re enjoying Ross City,” she says.
It’s not entirely true, of course. But I shrug and smile. “Can’t complain,” I reply. “I gotta say, it’s been a hell of an upgrade to sit in a place like this, looking out at a view like that.” I nod toward the stunning cityscape.
June gives me a wry grin. “I guess that means you’re not planning on moving back to the Republic anytime soon.”
“Well, I might for a while. Eden’s got an internship set up in Batalla. But the Republic’s still an idea I’m not sure I can ever get used to.” I pause, suddenly unsure if I should stay on this topic. Is it too sensitive to bring up between us now? My thoughts return abruptly to the argument I’d had with Eden, the way we’d left things hanging and unfinished. “You know how it is,” I decide to say instead.
June watches me in a way that makes me feel like she knows I’m keeping something from her. Then she looks away and out at the city. I’m quiet as I feel my heart sink. June is Anden’s most trusted officer. Someday, he may appoint her to lead the Republic’s entire military, to help restructure the whole country. She’s not leaving it behind anytime soon. If I want any chance of being in her life, the Republic is where I have to go.
Can I do that?
Immediately, I’m embarrassed at myself for my reaction. I have no hold or right on June’s life. We’re not dating. I don’t even know if she wants to. That old feeling between us now roars back to life in my head— that maybe there are just too many things that have changed in our lives for us to find a way back to each other. Or that maybe she’s just too good for me.
On the surface, I smile at her. “I hear rumors that Anden’s going to tap you to be First Commander someday.”
At that, she returns my smile. “Oh? Has that been circulating on the news here, or are you just asking around about me?”
I shrug and lean back against my chair, trying to hide my blush. “I ask around about a lot of people,” I say defensively.
When she doesn’t laugh, I drop my façade and ask, “Are you okay?”
She hesitates before she turns back to face me. Those dark eyes of hers fixate on mine, and I find myself feeling that strange sense of imbalance again, like I can never get my footing around her. “This isn’t you, Daniel,” she says.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“This.” She looks around at the pristine restaurant, full of marble floors and white pillars, waiters in polished uniforms carrying silver trays. “You don’t feel like you’re comfortable here.”
A flash of déjà vu hits me in that moment—suddenly I’m
remembering another restaurant from another time, when we sat across from each other and June asked me why I never told her about the illness that almost took my life. That took part of my memories.
I lean away from the table. “It’s not like I haven’t been here before,” I reply, feeling embarrassed. “Everything in my life is now this—the polished floors and high ceilings, the newness. I like it. I’m as used to it as you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not trying to insult you,” she says, leaning forward on her elbows. “I just … want to let down my guard. Like you want to. Don’t you?”
Let down my guard. That’s when I notice, with some irritation, my stiff back and straight posture. Of course June had sensed my anxiety and my forced politeness. Had I really forgotten what it was like to be around her, how she’d always manage to figure out everything and everyone around her with a few quick glances? If I could look into her head right now, I know I would see organized lists of observations and reactions.
But that’s what makes us different. She can figure me out in an instant, but I can’t do the same back.
A waiter approaches us and pours us some more sparkling water. I remember how long it’d taken me to even understand the concept of sparkling water. My gaze lingers on the bubbles rising now in my drink. Across from me, June’s eyes rest on the paper clip ring looped around my finger. It’s catching a glint of light right now that makes it shine, for just a moment, like a rare gem. She gives me a hesitant smile, and my entire heart tightens with hope.
A place where we can let down our guard. Where we can find our way back to how we used to be.
Suddenly I perk up and give her a quick smile. “I know a place. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
At that, June’s entire demeanor changes. Her eyes light up with a warmth that I recall from our younger days, and a brightness fills her face until all I can do is stare at her, completely entranced.
“Sounds perfect,” she says, already pushing away her chair.
It’s winter down here, and the biodome’s simulation has started to disappear, giving way to the sheet of glittering stars overhead. I lead June across a walkway toward an unfinished skyscraper. It’s far at the east side of Ross City, in a development complex that has never been finished. Now the skyscraper stands alone and unoccupied, a strange dark
structure among the others that are lit from top to bottom. Ivy has crawled all over it in the year since it was abandoned.
“Watch that step,” I say over my shoulder to her as I climb up the side of it into an open window. She follows close behind.
We land in a bed of lush vegetation and ivy, flower buds shut for the night against the cracks in the floor. Overhead, past the green trails hanging from the open ceiling, ribbons of southern lights dance across the blanket of stars.
“This might be the only quiet place in Ross City,” I tell June as we sit on the edge of the building and look out at the never-ending sea of lights. “Sometimes I come here to think.”
June has her eyes turned up to the stars. She can’t see them like this in the Republic, and the serene wonder on her face is breathtaking. “About what?” she asks.
I tear my gaze momentarily away from her. Down below, the floors vanish into slants of shadows. “I wonder if coming here to Ross City was the right choice,” I say. “For my brother. For me.”
June turns to me. “It seems like it’s treated you okay,” she replies. “Maybe. But I can feel Eden’s discomfort with our life. He’s drawn to
the streets of his past—he spent less time there than I did, so he’s curious about it in a way that I’m not. Sometimes I can feel him pulling away from me and back toward the Republic.”
At that, June nods stiffly. There’s a look of understanding on her face. “Are you afraid of the Republic?” she asks me.
“Maybe. I don’t know. When I think too long about the past, I get nightmares. I lose my appetite. That sort of thing.” I shake my head. “I don’t think Eden gets the same. If he does, he doesn’t talk to me about it.” I look at her. “And you?”
June hesitates as she gazes at the sky. Finally, she says, “Do you know the real reason why Anden came here to see your President? It’s because the Republic needs money.”
“Money?”
“We’re deep in debt. Anden’s trying to rebuild everything—fixing the infrastructure in the poor districts, tearing down the Trial stadiums, replacing them with new buildings. It all costs far more than we have. So he’s been trying to make deals with as many countries as he can.” She pauses. “I’m glad. It needs to happen. But protests have been happening too. There are times when I look out at the Republic and feel afraid.
Afraid of where we came from. Afraid of what might happen in the future. Nothing ever feels secure, you know? I’m so used to our lives falling apart that it makes me nervous when it hasn’t happened in a while.”
Her words hint at a part of myself that I haven’t revealed to anyone in years. It’s the part of me that still looks across Ross City and expects to see everything crumble. It’s the version of myself that wakes, gasping, from a nightmare of me back on the streets of Lake. I’m not the only one afraid of my past.
I reach out to touch her hand with mine. The warmth of her skin jolts through me, both new and familiar. “I know,” I tell her gently. “I remember enough about that time.”
She smiles sadly at me. “Do your memories still haunt you like they used to?”
“It’s not all back, but I remember most things now. Sometimes there’s a peculiar slant of light or the scent of smoke in the air, some small lingering thing that reminds me of something I can’t quite place.” I shake my head. “It’s like a dream of a different life.”
June turns to me. Her hair is shorter than it used to be, cut straight to her shoulders, and now I find one of those lost memories tugging at the edges of my consciousness. My fingers combing through her hair, my whisper against her ear.
She can tell I’m struggling. Nothing has ever slipped by her. “Near the train station that evening,” she murmurs, “when you said you remembered me and shook my hand, what was it that triggered that first thought?”
This part of us, too, feels stuck between being an old relationship and the beginning of something entirely new. I smile and look away. “The light in your eyes,” I reply. “Not everyone has the ability to draw people in with a single glance, June, but you have a very specific glow about you. Even if I hadn’t known you, I would have stopped and looked back. I would’ve introduced myself.”
June’s silent for a while, her eyes lingering on me, and I feel suddenly shy under that searing gaze. In the month since that fateful moment, we haven’t seen each other again. We haven’t chatted. A part of me doesn’t even dare believe that she’s here right now, in front of me.
There are so many pieces of our story that I still can’t recall. My time in the Republic’s prisons feels like a blur of blood and chains, an
overwhelming sun and an all-consuming pain in my leg. I barely remember any of our time in the Colonies that June claims we experienced. There are important people missing, faces wiped clean.
For a long time, that included June.
On impulse, I move nearer to her and touch her arm. I half expect her to stiffen and move away, but she doesn’t. Instead, her breaths turn shallow, and she allows herself to lean closer too, until we’re close enough to feel the warmth emanating from our bodies.
I want to ask her how she feels about me. But that old fear returns, that maybe she’s come all this way to tell me that we’re best as only friends. She’s about to move, I live in a different country, and neither of us is anything except busy.
I remember that I loved you, I want to tell her. I’m in love with you. I love you still. But the words don’t emerge from my lips. They stay buried, trembling in my throat.
For a moment, I think this may be as close as we allow ourselves to get.
Then June moves before I can say more. She leans toward me, stopping a hairsbreadth away from my lips.
I can’t hold back any longer. I close that remaining distance between us—and my lips touch hers.
And everything inside me breaks, every barrier and hesitation and insecurity, it all shatters as the feeling of her with me crashes through my chest. I wonder if it will be like this every time we touch. Everything in me wants to press us against the wall and kiss her harder, to make up for all the time we’ve lost. I want her arms to wrap around my neck, pulling me down to her. I want her so badly. All the questions unanswered between us—What do we do? Where do we go from here?—fade away, leaving only the sharp present, her body warm in my embrace.
But I force myself to stay in the present, our kiss suspended in this uncertain zone between us, part of it a reunion, part of it a possibility that maybe this is as far as we can ever take it.
A pending call appears in my view, interrupting the rush of this moment. It’s from AIS, followed by a message and a map.
Crime scene in the Undercity. Come immediately.
Could there ever be a worse time for my job to get in the way? It’s almost as if life wants to keep us apart. I sigh and send a quick message back.
Emergency? Did we find the drone race location? Yes, it’s an emergency. And no, we haven’t yet.
I whisper a silent curse.
June senses the break in the moment and pulls away. We’re both breathing heavily, dizzy from the rush of being so close.
“You should go,” she says, even though she doesn’t know what the message had read. Like everything else about me, she can probably sense that it’s something significant.
I don’t want to. I want to stay here, watching a star-filled night sky with her. The ache of being away from her for so long, the twinge of fear that, if I leave her side, I won’t be able to make my way back to her again, swells up in me with an overwhelming force.
Maybe she’s waiting for me to make the first move, to reach out and keep us from stepping apart.
You should go.
Those are her words, not mine.
Maybe I am misreading everything from her, then. I feel myself tearing away, my feet taking a step backward from her and letting the distance between us cool. I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or surprised. There’s so much that I’m unable to read about her now.
“Can I see you again?” I finally say.
She nods. The politeness has returned to her smile, the distance to her posture. But at least she doesn’t turn away and leave. At least she looks like she still wants to stay here and linger. That’s something, isn’t it?
“When are you free?” she asks.
When are you free? My heart lifts. “I’m attending the gala in honor of Anden’s arrival in a few nights,” I reply. “Will you be there?”
