Chapter Nine
Candle in the Wind
It didn't take long to arrive on the dark side, and we landed near two identical humanoid robots.
Their joints were seamless, and the surfaces smooth like polished porcelain.
Their forms looked like vaguely shaped modern art pieces I'd seen in LA.
They were Human in outline but featureless and glinted under the light of Sudo's twin moons.
The smaller moon hung like pale ice, and the larger was heavily cratered.
Their names didn't come through the implant.
I turned, watching not robots as Westmore said, but Simulacrums or rather Simulacra.
Their arms sometimes elongated to form shovels.
Other times, fingers sharpened into claw-like edges to move rocks from the ground.
The removed sand glowed faintly in the dual moonlight, piling up in neat mounds around the circular grave site.
The hole grew deeper and wider with every passing minute, spiraling down into the ground in perfect symmetry.
"They dig deep to prevent shifting sands from exposing the bodies," Zephyron said, standing beside me, "and to ensure no Zerlites are alerted to the scent."
"Zerlites?"
Zephyron's gaze stayed fixed on the grave. "Predators born from old arrogance, water's corruption, and—"
Again, with the water.
"Most are small, always numerous, and relentless in their hunger. If a swarm were here, we would not stand long."
My eyebrows rose. The Volardi prided themselves on being apex warriors and fixing problems. If they couldn't 'fix' Zerlites or win a battle against them, what did that say?
I wanted to ask more, but this was a funeral, and pressing him for trivia felt wrong.
The two Sims finished the downward spiral grave. "They're incredible," I murmured.
Zephyron's gaze followed mine. "Sudo's contribution to the empire and without equal.
They perform limited functions across this planet and on others.
" He raised his wrist, and the gleaming metal band caught the moonlight.
"This was created by one of them. Before, it would summon a blade, but my ability is gone. "
"It is?"
"I gave it up when I spared your father. Once a Volardi from Sudo chooses mercy, their nanite weapon is stripped away, and it cannot be restored."
"Never?"
"Only if the accord were undone and the original wound reopened."
Which means Dad would be bleeding out again after being gutted.
My stomach twisted, and I wasn't sure what to say.
Zephyron's focus returned to the grave, then the shuttle. The two Sims' heads rose, and they silently retrieved two bodies wrapped in shrouds. They were thinner than the Dara and Femeni I had known.
"Wait here."
He slid down the newly dug dune slope with controlled speed, with two former lovers draped over each shoulder.
Even with the light from two moons, it was pitch black deep inside the grave.
For several minutes, nothing showed, then he began his slow upward climb.
The desert howled as tiny grains of sand pelted my exposed skin.
I squinted and shielded my face with my arm as the gust intensified.
Zephyron stumbled, his bronze shoulders hunched as he fought the wind, gravity, and the steep spiral slope.
By the time he reached the top, his massive chest heaved with exertion, and long dark-blond hair clung to his face. "For a moment, I thought they wished me to join them."
"Who?" I asked.
"My mates. Perhaps they sent the wind to bury me in The Black. It is what I deserve."
Zephyron's words hung in the air, heavy and somber. His shoulders, usually squared with pride or stubbornness, now sagged under an invisible weight. A warm wind pulled at his long hair, whipping it around his sharp features as he stared back at the grave and two former lovers within.
I picked my words carefully before speaking. "You think they sent the wind? To punish you? I saw the video back on Earth. They adored you."
"Even love can turn to anger." He paused while the faint glowing sand cast a shadow across his face.
"When we lose our mates, their spirits linger, and judge our actions—guiding and condemning us as they see fit.
It is why some graves are far deeper, especially when a Volardi knows they wronged the dead. "
"No offense, but that feels like a lot to put on yourself. Maybe it was just the wind? Storms happen."
Zephyron's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I thought he'd snap.
He let out a slow breath, and the tension in his posture eased ever so slightly.
"Perhaps you are right. If I were buried, you would have remained on Sudo and been killed by a renegade Sandari, Zerlites, or Sudo's environment.
That would mean they wanted to punish you too, and you did nothing to deserve their wrath. "
I flinched. My father's image flashed in my mind with his hand stretched out as he reached for yet another drink, and me standing there, doing nothing to stop him. Especially not when it mattered.
The two Sims moved, their metallic limbs thinned as they stabbed the ground and collapsed sand over the bodies. The way they worked was unnervingly silent, precise, and quick. The grave was gone in seconds, leaving no trace it had ever been there beyond the whiff of dust.
"Let us go, Thomas."
"Can I have a moment?" I asked.
He glanced down with a curious expression. "For what purpose?"
"It's a Human thing. We take time to show respect and say goodbye."
He stepped back, nodding once. "Take your moment." Then he walked for three breaths to give me privacy.
I knelt, my knees sunk slightly into the warm sand.
My chest grew tight as I stared at the spot where his mates rested and would stay forever.
All I knew was their names and little else.
No favorite colors, food, if they were funny, or the sound of their laughter, but I knew they mattered to a man who was now my mate.
Now they were gone.
"Pargith, Elai...," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the wind. The next part I couldn't say out loud. I'm sorry for everything I took from you and for what my father did, because of me. I know I can't make it right, but somehow, I'll make all this work.
When I stood, Zephyron gestured toward the crystal shuttle, and I followed silently.
***
The pale moons cast their light on distant, tall, ornate spires of white sandstone punctuated with circular holes. Once inside, the air was dry but cooler, the walls smooth and unadorned.
"This wasn't what I pictured," I said, my voice echoing. "It's nice, but your society is high-tech."
"Our homes on Sudo reflect our desert survival. No excess or waste."
The throat dryness that had started on arrival and never went away still burned. "There's a kitchen and shower, right?" He stared before I continued. "You know, for thirst, and making sure I don't stink?"
Zephyron paused as if annoyed. "It's possible to take moisture from food in small doses.
If you must drink, please do so in private so you will not embarrass me and yourself.
I could order you, but I prefer you do not.
.." He waited for the implant translation or to force the word out.
"...bathe. Even without creatures swimming in the currents, liquid has a scent. "
He beat me to my next question. How was I supposed to live without water?
"Gleps will give you what you need."
"Gleps?"
"They are an integral part of the Omegafication process.
They convert elements, eliminating the need to drink or use archaic waste facilities.
" He sighed. "You are a primitive, and a Dara instructor would be best. Very well, I will attempt.
" As if he were a teacher explaining to a child, he described tiny cell-sized robots.
"Yeah, I know what nanites are! They edit matter at the microscopic level."
His purple eyes widened. "I was not aware your planet had this technology."
"We don't. We imagined them for stories or movies." I told him about a comic book with a hero who used them to heal himself. Then I mentioned the Borg from Star Trek.
His eyebrows furrowed. "You create concepts yet do not know how they function?"
"You do the same. Someone had to think of a faster-than-light drive before inventing it."
"No. We had the problem of how to go to other worlds. Once we solved the problem, we had the Folded Space drive."
It seemed like arguing semantics, so I let it go.
"Just the basic bare-minimum Omegafication, please." There wasn't anything wrong with the offer of never having to drink or needing to use the bathroom, but it was a Human thing. Besides, I liked cold drinks with ice. It's why Brandon let me pick slushy margaritas for Taco Tuesdays.
And that's gone.
"So, what do you do?" I asked after a moment, trying to forget my thoughts. "What's a day in a king, uh, Sentinel's life like?"
"Why do you ask?"
"As your mate, isn't it my responsibility to help? To support you?"
"You are a primitive," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
"A child playing in water, untrained and unskilled in the complexities of governance.
Your role is to bear children and attend to whatever hobbies you may find suitable.
" He hesitated, using his implant, "One cannot surf to political solutions. "
I know my cheeks flushed with anger, but I kept my voice steady. "I'm more than just a surfer."
Zephyron's gaze didn't waver. "Perhaps, but for now, you have one primary role."
Our walk and conversation ended at a towering set of doors carved with intricate geometric patterns. They glinted faintly from the ambient moonlight filtering in from an overhead opening. Earth wouldn't have something like this due to rain or birds.
Guess that's not a problem here. I never had a thing for birds, but I suddenly missed them. Are there any here?