Harvest arrived once a year, but in the home of Captain Elias John Pendergast, the holiday played on repeat. Footage of his father’s execution hovered in the air, amplified to the size of a wall. Looping images presented the exact moment John Pendergast died.
Elias memorized every detail of the clip that was leaked to Union gossip magazines years ago. Sinum master Ba’l Akil sliced John’s throat countless times as he maneuvered through his patio furniture. He marked each of the captured twenty seconds in his mind, his distant attention on the skyline spread above him. Warm light touched his skin as Ipir’s perpetual sun sprayed amber across the horizon in every direction.
His home lay nestled in the snow-capped mountains of North-North, and the altitude of his location turned his patio into a balcony. A supernatural chill stirred goosebumps on his arms as he scratched his bare torso. Ether surge, he noted. Perfect timing. Harvest arrived in two days.
He crumpled the paper note he held in his fist, one he meant to burn in the new firepit he'd purchased from Altirian Elite. The letter, sent by the current leader of the colony Union General Stephen Olet, contained an insult piled onto the many Elias already suffered. Fantastic thing, the pit—cost five figures to obtain a piece imbued with particles of humanity’s crashed generation ship. Its design reflected firelight in tranquil patterns, 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 watching Elias unravel the note. Elias scanned the general’s signature at the bottom. Year 999, Olet wrote. Elias imagined the general at some important desk with dark lenses drooped low, drafting the missive. Hell of a guy to send an ultimatum about Silatem’s future right 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, and I refused to confirm the carcass was dad’s ‘til I saw his eyes. I couldn’t recognize my father.”
The man in the hologram absorbed his sentiments with a nod. Dressed in the tailored uniform of a Union Ministry executive, his badge displayed his surname and rank: HEYWOOD, S6 ADMIRAL, MINISTRY OF DEFENSE. A four-centimeter pin of crossed swords signaled he was Guildmaster of the Hunter’s Guild, managing contracts for Union companies. Beside the swords hung a black shield with subtle meaning of a deeper role, one he shared with Elias. Both men were scheduled to sit at a sector review later and would see each other, so there was no need for the call. However, Heywood reached out anyway to make sure Elias still functioned.
“Valid. Wound’s always fresh, but looping that footage guarantees you never forget.” His steel-colored eyes hopped over the space, searching for the clip.
“I don’t want to forget.”
“Understood." Heywood focused on Elias. "Won’t hold the suspension against you, either. Delaurin's conduct was unbecoming of a senator. He crossed a major line.”
Elias darkened at the reminder. Delaurin’s insult landed during a somber moment on an embassy floor. The shock was a blow—but not like what Elias did in return.
“What he said annoyed you too.”
“Aye. I might've thrown one myself, rude little shit out. I’m not too old.” Heywood flashed a faint smile, one that returned whenever he remembered younger and stronger days half a century ago. “Shame you won’t continue John’s mission. Union needs impartial leadership.”
"Don’t start.”
Heywood chuckled. “Come on. Let me dream. 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? Full integration because it’s their planet, and we’re the reason the cults hate us.” He hummed. “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's laugh rumbled. “Clean up your reputation first before we move forward. Let’s avoid more of your scandals.”
Elias chuckled, though his smile at Heywood’s jostling faded once he returned to real matters. “You’re right that Union needs impartial guidance. The parasite infection takes another host every day, and this constant unrest from hostile hotspots in the wildlands complicates matters. We need an effective resolution.”
“Let’s hope the peace we’ve won so far sustains.”
“Let’s hope.” Elias resumed pacing as John’s execution looped to the start. He scowled as he returned to the mention of his suspension and the charges. “Assault. Battery. Attempted murder for a single punch. Unreal.”
Heywood turned toward the figures behind him preparing his vessel, watching for a moment. “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, stoking the flames. The fire cast orange tones against his fingers. “Still an idiot move to suspend Silatem for two weeks. Overcorrection, and a danger.”
Heywood’s head bobbed. “Aye. Short-sighted.”
Elias waved the note at Heywood. “Steve scribbled this himself on real tree scrapings with ink. I’m honored he’d waste the time and fluid. I’ll barter with you on what he wrote and remember, he’s a proud Concord serving a second eight-year term.”
Heywood’s weathered stare peered over his lenses. “Olet sends apologies for Delaurin, with a stern reminder of your own conduct in this matter. Please recall what Union’s done for your family throughout our settlement. After one thousand years, it’s time to rejoin, and we'll help Silatem—and your suspension—if you agree.”
“Near word for word.” Elias smiled. “You forgot a half-apology for the payload that took out Akil. 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 if you had the shot, regardless of your friends.”
“Aye. Anything to stop Akil. 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. “Figured you'd open my gift right away.”
“Ha. Pried open the prize open the minute I saw the emblem." He tapped the metallic emblem on the crates stacked throughout the patio, an interlaced golden ‘A’ and ‘E’. “You got the Reserve, you old dog—aged five hundred years. Elder blend. The inventory disappeared as fast as the tag activated.”
“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.”
Elias looked at the debris strewn across the patio, remembering Altir and his youth, an existence that lay a lifetime away. He still had another lifetime to live. A tone pealed as he ran his fingers over the emblem, the sound signaling a second transmission overlapping Heywood’s.
“Nostalgia’s hitting right. Thanks.” He glanced at the second Union Ministry badge flashing from the projector. “I’ll reignite my buzz after our call. Ignoring an MOJ link as we speak.”
Heywood nodded. “Ovadia’s fundraiser. That’s tonight.”
Elias stared at the snow-capped peaks as a flash of his stern mother's face rose. “Yep.”
“I sent her a donation. She’s done well for sector security.”
“She’ll appreciate that.”
“Your RSVP?”
“It’s why she’s calling. She must know about the suspension.” Elias stretched a weak grin. “Wants to chew me out. That’s nostalgia for her.”
“Reconnecting’s not a bad idea. It's been six years.”
Elias narrowed his lids. “Five before that.”
“Season’s tough on everyone.”
“Yeah.”
“Take the transmission.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“See you later.”
Heywood stopped him before he could disconnect, and an extended pause cooled the warmth of their conversation. “Now that you mention the review—let’s speak afterward.”
Elias unfolded Olet’s note. “About what?”
“Our warehouse issue. Picked up a thread. Huge mess.”
He raised his head, heightening at the topic.
“I’ll make time.”
“Thank you.”
The transmission dropped, and Heywood’s hint at intelligence circled Elias' thoughts as he prepared for Ovadia’s second link. Once she managed to connect with him, she’d interrogate him about Silatem to justify using her access. He hated that. She knew he hated that. With the suspension, she’d be worse than ever.
Elias settled on the chaise and brought a bottle of Black Dot to his lips. The mountains of Vangral stood behind John’s execution and observed John’s end like . In his darkest fantasies, he tore off Akil’s eyelids, and kept the warlord sentient 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 in the green-colored robes of the Ministry of Justice. the bright gold shield pinned on her breast flashed with her movements, and her tight features reflected her stern nature. Her shrewd gaze assessed Elias as her mouth turned down.
“Good God, Elias. Are you naked?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Put something on. Pretend to have decency when speaking to your mother.”
Elias glanced at himself. He wasn’t naked that exact second, but 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 there with you and that’s why you’re smug. A giggler like the girls who lined up waiting 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 at him. “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, touching her forehead. “A Pendergast needs to run Silatem. It won’t be Adam. He can’t bear your life of war, and the shift to peace started with him.”
“I know that.” Elias closed his eyes. Stark difference between his life and his younger brother’s. “I’ll train my successor when it’s time.”
“You’re thirty-eight. In a decade you’re halfway to the grave. You won’t turn into one of these immortals, either.” A dry laugh escaped. “We’ll keep our conversation light, though, if that fits your mood.”
“It does.”
“You look like shit.”
Elias swiped a sedasig from the table, inhaling from the device. A cloud of synthetic herbs misted around him, mimicking the tranquilizing effect of an immortal bite.
“Hello, Ma.” He feigned a smile. “Lovely weather along the terminator. Heard Capitol City’s extra temperate, and that’s perfect for Harvest festivals. You’ve got that big parade.”
“Aye. Weather’s fantastic. Surprised you noticed.”
“I pay attention.”
“I’m glad.” Ovadia dusted away imagined lint, surveying the patio. “Bottles—I can count them from here. Reminds me of John. He’d say he was fine, but kept a bottle close.”
Elias tossed Olet’s note into the flames, and the sheet turned black, 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. He looked ugly quick.” Elias snickered. “MOJ’s got excellent health coverage. You know that. He’ll be as irritating as ever next season.”
Ovadia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Not the point.”
“Right. Sorry.” Elias produced a downcast expression. “I said I’d pay everyone’s fines, cover his treatment, whatever else is involved. Be the bigger person, since clearly I’m the stronger one.” He closed his eyes. “Got your invite. Can’t confirm, but I remember you’re up for reelection. You’ll win.”
“It’s the name.” Ovadia dismissed him. “I married your father. It’s the Pendergast popularity.”
“No. Dad said you’d do fine without him. He was right. Shawn sent you a donation.”
“Thanks to both of you.” She shifted position, and Elias spotted the familiar view of the family kitchen around her. Little had changed from his memories, though the colors of the counters and cabinets were adjusted to Harvest shades. Like 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 will sing a hymn for your father. She’s got a powerful voice, like her mother. We need more events where Concord and Peace find common ground.”
“I’ll try to make it. Affair sounds special and right.” Elias smiled but Ovadia missed the effort when she looked away. “Suspended doesn’t mean without 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 named the reason for that review. “You’ve had issues with your warehouses and 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. I’m correcting the record.” He rested his head against the chaise’s cushions. “It’s tough running a business when Union coddles violent activists. New collectives appear every year. I’m feeling the Harvest spirit, aren’t you?”
“I can’t give an opinion. Delaurin’s a colleague, and 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, regrouping effort. “How are you? How’s the family?” He rattled questions he thought a normal son would ask. “Your end stays away because of Silatem. Understandable. I’d be nervous if I were a civilian. How’s Adam?”
“Fine, fine, yes, that’s all 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 another time. “My reputation’s not the best, but Silatem and her president endorse 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, and Elias stared at the projector. His family reminded him of what humanity lost with John’s death. His father, leader of humanity for almost a year, remained a hero to many. He reached for the bottle as an audible yawn caught his attention.
He turned, spotting a short nude woman cutting through the stacked crates in the patio. Her soft breasts bounced with her strut. Here came Rose Desjard, Arbiter Kip Madsen’s secretary, his current lover. Elias closed the looping footage of John with a quick gesture.
“Don’t stop for me.” Rose gestured at the projector. “Whatever helps. I’ve seen that footage many times, like everyone else, and tried to imagine how you feel.”
Elias stiffened—she’d seen him watching the footage. Staring at his father’s death on loop wasn’t his favorite way to entertain dates. “Well, I don’t want to watch it with you. Matter’s unrelated to us.”
She shrugged. “You can’t scare me.”
“Nothing there to fear.” Hostility tinged his retort as his expression puckered. “Swarm of inbred freaks jerking off to their cowardice, wearing dunce caps in bargain Harvest costumes.”
A smile touched Rose’s lips. “Those horned crowns are an Ipirian thing. Honors their deities, I’ve heard—but I’m only part native.”
“I don’t care. 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 so loyal to his word. I told him he didn’t owe anything to that fucking animal, or his followers.” He glanced at the patio doors. “I locked those. How’d you get out here?”
Rose looked at the doors as well. “Thought you forgot to seal them when you came out here. You’ve been out of it since we came back to your place.” She kicked away an empty bottle. “We’ve also been drinking.”
Elias frowned. “I don’t forget important details like that.”
“You aren’t perfect. It’s fine. Your secret’s safe with me.” She shifted closer, straddling his knee. “I’ll leave so you can lock it, if you’d like.”
Humor crossed his face. He traced a circle around her navel, nudging her legs apart. “No need. You’re already here.” rose 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 through her. “Those doors won’t be unlocked again.”
“Fine.” Her stare circled Elias. “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 Defense.”
“My service history’s public. It’s why everyone still calls me Captain.” He absorbed the sight of Rose’s tanned form with a patch of midnight below. “No credentials needed to see my honors.”
“Yes. You’re 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.”
“Of course. 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, easing away. “We’ll be at the meeting later. Nothing’s lost.”
“Mood’s fine.” Elias drew her back, and her compact figure climbed over him. Her shallow breaths struck his lips. “There’s too much on my mind, but when you’re in front of me, I think less.”
Her dark gaze flitted to his chest. “Good.”
“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 as she undressed him and knelt, enveloping him with her mouth. He dropped his head against the chaise’s cushions 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, lifting her with him to lean her against a wall. She uttered something foul in that native tongue of hers, digging her nails into his shoulders.
“Is that it?” She grunted, eyes rolling backward. “Fuck me harder!”
He obliged.
Encounters with Rose, and women like her, distracted Elias for a while. In his new firepit, Olet’s words crumbled to dust.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw2RcrG4X3Y
23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNgqnaTjnUk
