Page 10 of The Space Between Stars

His mother froze. “But that would mean… they have annotations on everyone?”

“Everyone.”

“What do we do?”

“We protect this country as best we can by keeping the rest of them under lock and key.”

“This is why you’re bringing the ordinance to vote?”

Taranil nodded. “Believe, Myria. This is no longer a matter of life or death. It’s a matter of fear and faith. The Fates are watching.” He crouched and whispered something in her ear, fingers interlacing with hers. He cupped her face with his opposite hand.

“Odenous, don’t,” she said.

“I—”

Whatever the Prime was, Niklaus would never know. He slammed the door open with such force that it banged into the wall. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

His mother’s face went milk-white. Taranil’s tawny eyes narrowed, and he stood rigid as a quill.

“Mother, if I could solicit a moment of your time.”

Silence struck the room like lightning, and it charged Niklaus’s next words. His mother stood, chin high, hands clasped, and passed through the door as Niklaus held it for her. He slammed it behind them. It echoed through the house.

“Speak.”

“I have nothing to say,” she replied.

“I do. You’re going to stand against this ruling, and here’s why—”

“Fine.”

Niklaus stopped short. Fine? It was a clear trap. There was nothing to be done but fall straight into it.

“Why?”

“Because this ruling will stand no matter what I do, but at least voting against it will give me the luxury of shutting your mouth for five minutes.”

“You can’t possibly think this is justice.”

“I don’t think it is justice, but that does not make it any less the best option. Aetech’s board is set in its ways, as with the oligarchy. Nothing will sway them. These are old lifestyles, stemming back to the Seraphindos’ reign. Old and powerful.”

Niklaus’s hands fisted. “Ah, yes. Politics die hard. The children starving in Shrokan die easy. I can completely understand your rationale.” She glared, and he swatted the air between them. “We are in a pivotal position. After last quarter, we have the funds to become influential. If anyone can make a difference, it’s us.”

“Wealth may bring power. But while they are corollary, there is a difference between money and wealth. Money represents wealth like hollow walls represent a home.” She looked around at the manor they stood in, and the motion wounded him. He was still putting together why when she spoke again. “Power with roots deep enough to sustain it exists without money. Everything else withers at first drought. That is the power we fight, and while we have money, we have no wealth to speak of.”

How could she speak with such ignorance, only to cap it with wisdom?

His mother shook her head. He could still see the salt lines on her face from the tears he was sure she would have never shed for him. “You have made your argument, and you have lost it. When will you show the humility I raised you with and stop?”

“When the sun ceases to rise,” he said through clenched teeth. “How long have you been seeing the shratten Prime? Who has gone missing?” He knew the interrogation foolish, but it spilled out just the same.

His mother paused, indefinite stories moving behind her eyes. She readied an answer, but whatever it had been lost its shot at life. She blinked, eyes dry, face long, words even. “Niklaus, if you don’t stop speaking out, they’ll find a way to stop you. There are some secrets that are better left buried.”

She turned and re-entered her rooms. She shut the doors again, leaving Niklaus alone in the cavernous hallway with the rugs and the vases and the paintings. Dead things. He was alone in a tomb.

Niklaus rubbed his fingers together, clenched his jaw, and left the manor.

Buried, she’d said. He took that as an invitation to dig. If it meant he had to air the dirt on every patrician in the oligarchy in the process, he’d get his answer.