Chapter 51 #2
“Good. Just don’t get too relaxed. Cover all your tracks. And if you can, have your memory erased by Dr. Veil. Just tell her what you saw at the Grand Championships was too much and to wipe it all. Wipe your memories of Huck, of me, of everything you sent to Terra Ka. Of this entire month.”
“But then I’d forget…” being with the Sovereigns the first time, I think, but say, “What I’ve learned and how I’ve felt about it. That’s what keeps me going here.”
“This isn’t Earth, Eve. you could be put on trial with your memories as evidence. Remember, out in the galaxy, doctors are telepathic and they have machines to record your memories for public viewing. Are you sure you want to stay?”
“Yes,” I say, even though I’m scared.
“You still have the vial of poison?” he asks quietly.
I hesitate. “Yes.”
He nods once, like that answers something he already assumed. “It was always a long shot that you would use it. But if the time comes, don’t hesitate, even if it’s just for yourself. What they’ll do to you will be worse than death if you’re found guilty for our extractions.”
That statement hits harder than if he’d told me to kill the Sovereigns or else.
Gael continues, “People think contingency plans are about courage, they’re not. They’re about knowing when you’ve already lost.”
“The Sovereigns are trying to make things better for humanity,” I say, because I need that to be true.
“They might be. Or they might just be better at surviving on the line than most.” He looks at me then—really looks—and whatever he sees makes his cool exterior break for a second.
“If the Sovereigns decide you’re a liability, there won’t be a trial.
There’ll be a room and a justification for your death.
And afterward, a sad story about how unfortunate it all was. ”
I swallow hard. I know that scenario isn’t far-fetched. I’ve seen how the Ascendant Alliance reclassifies people and erases events.
“Don’t think about the poison as killing the Sovereigns, Eve. Think about it as you denying them the ending they already chose for you. And remember, most people never get the opportunity you have, now.”
“I understand,” I say, but then pause. I know in my heart he’s right. But I can’t kill Rafe and Lorian. No matter what they’ve done or what they will do. So I move on. "There’s something else. A request I’d like to make.”
Gael nods. His expression almost sad. As if he’s already seeing me as a dead woman, a ghost.
“A woman called Briar, no, her pet name is Ash. She's one of Aefre's pets. Pink hair, modified with a tail. I—I want her extracted. Please."
"A personal connection?"
"Yes. We grew up together. She was always cruel to me, but she's pregnant, and that child didn't choose any of this."
Gael's expression shifts. "Pregnant? You're certain?"
"Yes. I saw the medical scans myself, and I made sure they were labeled as a glitch and disappeared so no one else would notice. But once she leaves the Spire and gets back on Aefre’s ship, it’ll register and then—” I swallow hard.
"I’ve heard enough talk over the last few days to know what trainers do with their pregnant pets’ babies, and I’ve met Aefre.
And as much as I still hate Briar for bullying me when we were children, I don’t wish that on her.
But, once she’s safe, tell her she still owes me a purple barrette, a full copy of Anne of Green Gables, and an apology. "
"You changed medical records? That's—" He stops himself. "Brave. And dangerous. The system tracks everything."
"I know. I was careful."
"Careful isn't always enough." He pockets his device. "But yes, we'll prioritize her extraction. Though I should warn you, Briar might not be grateful. Some humans resist being rescued.”
I don’t miss the look he gives me that says, just-like-you’re-resisting.
"I understand. But the baby—"
"Will have a chance at freedom. You have my word and my thanks for all you’ve done.” He moves toward the door, then pauses. "Remember Eve, the Sovereigns are neither monsters nor saviors, and if the time comes, use the poison on them.”
“I’d never make it out of the Spire alive if I killed them.”
“No, but you would go down in galactic history as a three-person Romeo and Juliet death. You’re already in the history books. And you would be immortalized by Terra Ka,” he says. “No one thinks they’re the villain the moment they decide you’re expendable.”
Gael bows and then walks away. I don’t see him disappear but he’s completely gone now, as if he had been an apparition, leaving me alone with my fear.
I can’t kill Rafe and Lorian. Can I?
I don’t think any more wrongdoing can undo the evil I’ve done here. Every human pet I’ve checked in, every kiss I’ve enjoyed with Rafe and Lorian. Every minute I’ve slept in luxury…
Even if I killed my alien lovers, I still couldn’t be a saint for humanity. I’m damned, and I choose it. I have betrayed everyone. The Sovereigns, Terra Ka, the human competitors… everyone.
I am a handmaiden for the Devil.
But not because I’m entirely evil. Because I must do the Devil’s work with the hand I’ve been dealt.
And the Sovereigns aren’t inherently evil either. They don’t pretend a cage isn’t a cage. They polish it, weaponize it, eroticize it—but they never lie about the bars.
However, I feel like Terra Ka lies to me and to themselves.
They say think they’re better than me and the Sovereigns because the suffering they demand from their followers is only temporary, because it serves a future they’ll never have to live inside.
Every time they ask me for something—another schedule, another reroute, another name—they’re not asking if I can survive the fallout.
They’re asking if I’m willing to die for their cause.
I’m just a temporary number, one of the countless humans, dying for Terra Ka’s cause.
The Sovereigns want me alive, complicit, and breathing because of who I am. But Terra Ka would be satisfied to immortalize me as a saint as long as I was useful enough.
That thought chills me to the bone. Gael was right about one thing, the galaxy is painful and messy. And none of us are clean.
I will help Terra Ka, but I won’t kill for them.