Chapter 5
B.T.O.B. (Bomb Talk Over Breakfast)
TIA
I don’t expect my wound to be healed by morning, because Harper’s miscreant hands have only ever been good for trouble and destruction.
But it was a full moon yesterday, and my super-healing must’ve worked overnight, because there’s no twinge of pain when I roll my shorts up to inspect the now-useless gauze. Amidst last night’s nightmarish events, my mind lingers on the phantom warmth of Harper’s touch.
I tear the bandage off and scrunch it in my fist. There’s no time for sentiment, not for fiery, foul-mouthed girls.
Morning light streaks through the penthouse’s blinds when I get to the kitchen, casting strips of white-gold over marble countertops as Kiran stares into the fridge.
He’s got a hand on the fridge door, his dark curls sticking out over the top, and he’s in one of Niko’s Harvard shirts and boxers. As the perpetually busy CEO of Lain Co., it’s not rare to see him summoned by the crack of dawn, but today it looks as if he hasn’t even gone to bed.
Our kitchen’s mini monstera plant droops by the kitchen sink.
Kiran’s Naga descendancy means plants usually flourish and feed off his nature-born magic.
But on bad days, when he’s stressed or exhausted, the food chain flips, and Kiran draws energy from the plants, leaving them wilted and browned at the edges.
Something’s going on.
I clear my throat.
He whips round. ‘Oh, Tia, morning! Quick question, did Niko get groceries?’
I dart past him to procure pempek from the freezer compartment. ‘They ordered some in, yeah. We were out of soy milk. How many pempek do you want?’
Happiness strikes Kiran’s tired face like lightning.
Pempek – fried fish paste – is a rare treat only served when Niko’s cousins ship some from Jakarta.
They generally come in three shapes: little dumplings with egg, elongated and cylindrical, or as a batter-crusted fishball.
My personal favourite is the cylindrical one, but everyone else always dives for the dumpling – the pinched side of crust is too much for them to resist.
‘As many as possible?’ Kiran situates himself at the kitchen table with a mug of coconut water and a soft smile.
Niko’s boyfriend is the antithesis to Niko. Where Niko is jittery, Kiran moves like stone, each step measured. The yin to their yang, gentle around Niko’s spiky edges, careful where they’re dismissive, Kiran’s been Niko’s grounding rod for years now.
Their initial union had been spat on by the public and every authority figure – Niko a rich heir and descendant of an Indonesian forest nymph, Kiran a middle-class firefighter-in-training and descendant of Nagas.
Like other descendancies, though, their magic has thinned out over their bloodline. Deities have always lived amongst people – until worship wasn’t enough to separate them, a deity fell in love with a human, and bloodlines twined.
The old gods lived and fell with empires.
As humankind burgeoned and beliefs diverged, the gods faded with their worship.
Deity descendants took their place, their inexplicable powers coveted in war and shunned in peacetime.
Magic was a force as mysterious as science, pioneered by dead tales and with less funding for research.
I am not as strong as a Chang’e descendant would’ve been two hundred years ago – and sometimes I think that’s why the public was open to the idea of Sentinels.
Even if Kiran is a Naga.
Earth hit a critical point in our non-renewable energy several years back, and widespread protests began for cleaner energy.
As it was in their nature to protect their environment, the Nagas were a driving force behind Singapore’s climate protests since the energy crisis.
Worse, they were backed by the wildly unpredictable forces of the Fox clan, a slippery syndicate that we’ve still barely figured out.
The heart of Nagas, the power of Foxes – over time, the demonstrations became increasingly violent.
Kiran was never involved with the criminal side of the Nagas, but he’d get insider information from his relatives.
He’d also already begun dating Niko. Two years ago, during a particularly vicious demonstration, the Foxes had torn down a construction site while Nagas raised saplings from the rocky dirt, accruing millions in damage for the building company, the thousands of people who’d been waiting to live in that building, and endangering everyone in the flats around.
Together, both Kiran and Niko had enough magic combined to fight back against the Nagas and save civilians caught in the fallout.
The government took notice and christened them Sentinels, bound to protect the country from magical threats.
Niko and Kiran became the protectors of the country. It also meant Kiran’s Naga clan wanted nothing more to do with him, and he’d been left with no family.
It’s probably why our trio of Sentinels work so well – there were the three of us, floating, until we found each other and never let go.
‘Had a good morning?’ I venture as the oil in the pan heats.
A small smile quirks Kiran’s lips. ‘Just barely.’
I hum my acknowledgement. ‘Any news from last night’s gala?’
‘VIPs didn’t get to make a speech about the moonstones, nor did we get to disseminate our findings on the new moonstones to the public.
Me and Niko are thinking of having interns do presentations around Singapore instead.
Everyone’s been on edge about what the moonstones mean for the descendants and non-descendants, and we want to appease them. ’
‘You haven’t updated me, either.’ I test the oil in the pan and dump my first batch of pempek in. It sizzles into a frenzy, pricking my skin like acupuncture needles. I take a step back to avoid its wrath.
‘I’ll start the debrief once Niko’s here.’ When he raises his cup to his lips, his nails tap-tap-tap against his mug. His eyes dart from the lift to the corridor leading into the bedrooms, then to me.
I met Kiran six years ago, when he was still part of his clan and had only just begun dating Niko.
He’s grown much more confident since, bolstered by his two-year experience as Lain Co.
’s CEO, but today he feels reduced back to the teenager I used to know: tight curls mussed like he’s run his hand through one time too many, thick brows stitched like a Gordian knot, his white-silver necklace starkly bright over his teak skin.
‘How bad is the news?’ I ask, venturing a baby tug at unravelling the mystery.
Kiran shoots me a wan smile and stops fiddling with his necklace to grip his mug. ‘Soon, Tia.’
He unscrews a bottle of moonstone supplements and downs one, tossing two to me.
I chase them down with my coffee. I usually need one in the morning and one at night, unless I use my magic, in which case I need more. Extra, as well, if I account for the cut on my leg.
The lift dings, unfurling a sleepy Niko in a singlet and pyjama shorts. They ruffle my hair as they plod into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
‘Need help?’ they ask in Indonesian.
‘I’m fine. Kiran said he wanted to wait for you for the debrief.’ I fish the pempek out of the pan and dump the next batch in, barely wincing at the hot prick of oil on my wrist.
Sleep leaves Niko’s eyes like a lifting fog as they blink. ‘Right. It’s just – we’ve realized these moonstones release about five times more energy than other moonstones.’
I know this already. We’ve begun running tests and, while I’m not involved as an intern, I receive the reports as a Sentinel.
Niko is eyeing the pempek on Kiran’s plate. ‘They also glow for days even after just a little bit of moonlight, like they can be charged under scarce moonlight and accumulate that energy without loss. The input-to-output energy ratio for these stones is unprecedented.’
‘So, we’re looking at very power-efficient moonstones and we want to use them for power plants. This is a good thing. Right?’ I slide a plate of pempek in front of Niko, and they take it with a quick thanks.
Kiran crosses his legs and nods. ‘Technically, yes. Lain Co. and the government have been working together for years to make the shift into lunar energy. This is a huge step forward.’
‘Except for one thing.’ Niko spears a pempek with their fork. ‘We’re still figuring out how to get the stones to store energy, and we can’t make a lunar energy plant without that. Kiran and I were more concerned about recent government talks to weaponize the moonstones.’
‘How? They only—’ Illuminate light. Generate energy. If the moonstones have a similar type of power to the one I channel, and the government finds a way to concentrate it, then—
‘A bomb.’ Kiran completes my thoughts with a sombre nod.
‘There are multiple countries looking into investing in it as part of their artillery, and because it releases far more power than it weighs, it’ll be easily portable.
The blueprints Raven stole last night were drafts for turning the moonstones into weapons, but the designs were too dangerous, so the government has already axed them.
Ferrix was supposed to get rid of it soon, but, well. Last night happened.’
‘We don’t know what the Foxes plan to do with it, but we need to get it back.’ Niko swigs a glass of water, pushing their scraggly fringe off their face. ‘ Especially with . . .’
They glance over at Kiran.
He nods.
Niko turns back to me. ‘There’s a blood moon in six months.
The amount of energy it’ll produce, combined with these new pure moonstones?
If the Foxes manage to amass enough moonstone and charge it with such strong moonlight, we’re going to be in huge trouble.
Lain’s doing its best to keep the moonstones away from Foxes and the government, but we can’t hold everyone off for long.