Shafts of light split through dreamless sleep. The blanket had barely moved from the night before. Exhaustion had overpowered her mind’s restlessness. She rolled to face the backrest. The cushions crinkled, reforming to this new position. She tucked her chin down against her chest and regretted it. She had drooled in the night.

Water was running.

Lenith listened to Pelinda’s lackadaisical humming from behind the almost closed bathroom door and then lifted off the couch onto sleep-weak legs. She needed to take dad’s shirt to the Halibreds. Replace the missing button. She shinned the foot table. Pain spread fast. The top, white book toppled and thumped the floor.

Distress fused her bones as her eyes pieced together where she was. The excitement of the prior night drained. The fog of sleep receded and replaced her confusion with grave disappointment. She returned to the couch for a moment of recuperation. She shoved palms against her dehydrated, line-marked face.

The water stopped. Pelinda splashed in the tub.

A press of the sill revealed it was 6/1:15, or Six of One and fifteen minutes. A time reserved for the calls of seniodes, shimmering orange insects with soft shells and big mouths keen on screeching at dawn.

The streets below were empty, save for an inrail chugging along the rail a block down. She had not seen one before. It was long, softly rectangular. Indigo veins ran through the reinforced exterior—made of cerberium-infused steel. The windowless, matte rear-end had two green strips of light illuminating the road.

The suns cast shadowed, orange streaks between buildings.

Lenith committed to rising and stumbled into the kitchen. Two new jars of Salim Solem sat in the sink, filled to the brim with water. Funny. She had drank a sip and none more. She didn’t recall Pelinda drinking much more either, at least when they were together.

The fridge opened with ease. She was regaining some strength. Chilled air pushed through her shirt’s thin fabric. It felt like a trailing kiss against her collarbone.

A precariously placed tube of meat-based jelly dropped from the fridge’s top shelf and cracked on the blackwood floor.

Lenith muttered “Muntk,” and went to put the tube back. A red sack of vegetables had already flopped over and taken its place. She used the damaged food.

Instructions on how to prepare and serve the tubed jelly, with far too many unnecessary exclamation points, covered the side of the tube. The excited instructions were astonishingly simple and mundane, written like it was meant for a child. 

Something stuck to Lenith’s finger. She turned the tube over to find red goo puffing out from the crack. It tasted of pure salt, diminished by a hint of something artificial.

Three melodic pings echoed from the living room. Lenith reeled back and slammed the fridge shut. She tossed the tube next to the jars in the sink and drifted into the living room. She searched the overhead cornices, watched the air purifier above the vestibule, waited for Pelinda to reveal she had an uncanny ability to mimic mechanical noises.

Another ping. The panel next to the front door flashed blue. She approached cautiously. The interface offered more options than its sibling outside, showing who stood in the hall as well as tabs for Preferences, Adding or Requesting New Roommates, Ping customization, and Unlock Door.

Through the security camera, the Dehkie in a gray, sleeved cloak stood with his hand on the door. Lenith hesitated to touch the Unlock tab, even if it was Marlic. She could hear Pelinda splashing around in the bath. Defenseless.

Marlic—Kogin, the Poralaget of Dehkie—stepped over to the panel and, for a moment, Lenith felt as though he could see right through the camera. Could he see her as she could see him? A brilliant orange light consumed the interface, followed by a lower ping.

The door slid aside. The Poralaget entered, fully suited from helmet to boots. He wandered past Lenith, over to the couch covered in her untidy blanket and pillow. The fragrance of smoked meat followed in his wake.

Lenith opened her mouth to say something and then repressed the urge. Marlic settled on the couch and plucked the white book off the floor where it had fallen.

“She takes good care of gifts, I see. I don’t need her new roommate observing all her bad habits.”

He centered the book back on top of the stack.

Lenith settled down beside him, on her pillow.

The Dehkie’s suit lacked the armor other Chimayri limbs were prone to have. Dozens of pockets filled with tools and devices lined Marlic’s stomach and chest, as well as a service belt for a sidearm and levelin. She had already noticed the diversity in suits, even within a single limb among equally ranked officers. The Ilius who had lined up in front of the Podium, for instance, had a variety of subtle differences.

Marlic’s fingers tucked under his helmet, into the seal around his neck, and pushed out until the suctions released with a loud pop.

The helmet lifted. He sat it on the foot table.

Shaggy brown hair matted his scalp. Sweat beads raced down from his temples and clung to a softly angular, shaved jawline. A corrugated scar marked his left cheek. It looked sore, even as a withered blemish.

“You waited for your old friend at the Blocks last night.”

“Iggy’s not an old friend. He’s a blister on my heel. He’s the real reason your people destroyed Rugerbin.”

“Is that so?”

Marlic wiped the perspiration from his forehead. His lime-colored eyes danced about the contents of the foot table, to the pile of literature. He plucked the book with a white cover back up and stretched his legs out. He bent the book’s thick cover back with an audible crack. Pages rose to greet him and then returned to their place.

“Why were you watching me?” Lenith asked.“For the same reason we watch everyone, Lenith. I may trust you, but we don’t. I wonder if Pelinda has even read this yet.”

“What does the title mean?”

“Us’mevani Ebil. The Forever Dream.”

Marlic had a quiet, thoughtful voice—something Lenith gleamed before but could not be certain of until his helmet came off and the connection to his weak digitizer broke. He turned to the first page of the book. ‘By Marlic Askel.’ A smile cut deep ridges along his cheeks.

“Your appointment’s in fifteen minutes,” he said, “I didn’t want to nab you and run but it looks like that’s what I’m doing.”

He left a message on Apt 35’s inner panel. ‘Stole your roommate. -M’

A three-doored buggy waited in front of Kisset 3; unmistakably of Chimayri aesthetic: contoured, elegant, visually striking. The front bumper bowed. A solar collector integrated flawlessly into the long, reflective windshield that went from front to back in one uninterrupted strip. Rounded curves shined ginger in the dawning light.

The passenger seat conformed to Lenith’s shape and a trace of heat spread along her spine. Inside, the windows were clear as day. An overlay interface at the center of the windshield showed a map of its parking spot, along with temperature and time.

Another display built into the dash had buttons that resembled Pelinda’s Etic player and a few buttons she did not know the use.

The Dehkie Poralaget’s helmet plugged into a grooved dock in the center console.

The edge of the windshield populated with octagonal icons.

Marlic caressed a raised, digital sphere resembling a friction orb on the driver’s side of the dash. The enclosed buggy moved along the solar-glass road with a flick of his finger.

Everything except the map faded when in motion. He dragged his fingers across the sphere to turn and the vehicle adapted to the new route at an eased, smart angle.

“I could let it drive all the way to the Hub on its own, but I prefer a little manual input.” Marlic tapped the sphere. “How can I lose myself if a computer knows my every move?”

The city passed by, much quicker than on foot, without a sound. A stark contrast to its nightly counterpart. All the signs that lit the twilight sky were faded under the rising suns. A stray child scurried down the street, heading toward the buggy and then past it.

“You’re taking this well for a newcomer,” Marlic said at last. He cleared his throat after sounding a little dry.

“Why should I be mystified? I’ve seen what the Chimayri are capable of. I could imagine what their home was like.” She fibbed, but that did nothing to stop awoken anger. “The local government’s ruled by a council dictated by a ‘chosen,’ elusive demagogue. Officials are artisans of deception—and no one cares. Everything’s so close to how Hadish operated that I have to question the purpose of staging an uprising at all. History doesn’t know how to try something truly new. It just refurbishes the same, old shit.” 

“I meant you’re not out breaking windows or taking swings at Noctam officers. The Chimayri are far more complex than Hadish ever was. Compare them all you want but this system is multifaceted, self-sustaining. No one dictates anything.”

“More self-sustaining? Hadish stood for thousands of years.”

“And I worry the Chimayri will stand even longer,” Marlic said.

Lenith turned away, to face the curb. A chill seized her. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Good fortune we’ve almost arrived at your Advocate then.”

“I mean I don’t want to be in the city. I don’t—”

“I know.”

“Your leaders lied. My dad had nothing to do with the Graymen anymore. He left them years ago. His only plans were to keep living and to protect us.”

“You’re feigning naivety, Lenith. Do you believe the Chimayri poured their foundation on solid ground? No, of course not. You’re smarter than that. Your father was another method of promoting fear, nothing else. This unending, paranoid narrative has swallowed thousands more before him. I’m sorry. If anything, be pleased they’ve yet to use your name to fabricate a new enemy. You don’t want to give them an excuse.”

“My dad taught me a lot—but not everything. He never taught me what to think. He let me decide my actions on my own.”

“And what do you think, Lenith Thaymen?”

She sighed. “It’s not worth saying.”

“No?”

“You’ll take it as a threat.”

“Will I? Go on.”

Lenith glared at the drifting storefronts. Split fingernails drummed her knees. He would not extract any information out of her unless she agreed to it. She said, “Survival means knowing when to listen and when to fight.” 

“Hmm. You might be listening for a long time.”

“I’m fine with that.”

Her reflection flicked on the glass, in front of a dark alley. She was not sure what she saw in herself anymore.

A young man in a blue coat sauntered down the street, forcing his way into Lenith’s view. He stopped hard (nearly fell out of his shoes), pivoted, and sped down the way he came, disappearing into another alley.

Marlic pointed him out. “Demish Maros. Must’ve thought I was coming for him. I used to chase Demish almost every day when I was a fresh investigative recruit. Thought I could scare the dwindler out of him. I gave up. He probably thinks I’m waiting for him to become comfortable. He’s thought that for six years.”

“I knew a dwindler. They all have the same mind. Everyone’s out to get her, no one’s out to help her. I hated her so much. She stole the future,” Lenith said; her guard slipped.

“Who? Your mother?” The Poralaget of Dehkie already knew. His tone betrayed him.

“Do you always escort newcomers to the Advocate?” Lenith asked instead. “Because, when I mentioned it last night, Pelinda looked baffled.”

“No. I don’t.”

The Hub emerged at the end of the street. The stacked stone façade stood tall over the Victory Bridge, dwarfing its terrace. Its immensity cast a far-reaching shadow. Approaching the wide behemoth, she realized how such a wall made everything else in the city a trifling matter.

“Some truths aren’t meant to surface.”

Marlic looked to Lenith, who had started studying him. Pain throbbed behind his restive eyes—past the stress wrinkles that devalued his twenty-six years of life.

A group of Ilius congregated near the riverside parapets. They fixated on the incoming buggy. Something tightened Marlic’s expression, a memory of some sort.

“Do me a favor.”

“I might.”

“Never report a crime.”

“What? Why not?”

“I mean, tell me. Don’t go through the public channels. We’ve had severe issues with Ilius as of late. Personal information for good-intentioned denizens keeps falling into the hands of the people they report.”

Another buggy emerged from an underground garage as Marlic parked in front of the Hub. The Chimayri wasted precious little space. As a fallen nation, they had so little to show.

Marlic slipped his helmet on and left without another word. He met Lenith on the other side. Taking her hand, he helped her out of the buggy.