This Black Blood is Without End
Chapter 11 – The Watchers
The pale moon rose over the dropship on the fifth night since it's landing, shining half obscured by dark clouds before once again disappearing completely from view. It made an incongruous sight there in the forest; a tall metal monster which had fallen from the sky days before in a rage of noise and flame, its menacing form now towering over the rough camp which had sprung up around it. That the structure did not belong here in these lands was clear, and neither did the people which had apparently come down with it.
Lincoln watched the camp from the safety of a high limb on a neighboring tree, his large form further obscured in the darkness by a screen of naturally interwoven branches and leaves. He had seen the dropship land in the distance five days ago, and after several hours of searching had easily found where it had come to rest. With curiosity and trepidation he had watched the young people who had come down from the sky explore their surroundings, stumbling through the woods like small, lost children. He hadn't dared get too close those first two days, as there were many of them and they seemed to wander in an aimless and disorganized fashion, and the risk of one of them accidentally stumbling upon him was too great. It wasn't until he had saved three of the Sky People from being killed by Reapers a few nights before that his curiosity finally became too strong and succeeded in overcoming his natural caution. Since then, each night he carefully snuck close to the camp and its growing circular fortifications, taking up a high perch in a nearby tree so that he could observe them behind their walls in relative safety.
They had been busy. More and more the area around the dropship was beginning to look like a proper camp. Wooden walls were nearing completion, and they now formed a circular perimeter around the dropship and the brightly colored tents. Watch fires glowed throughout the camp, illuminating the area within the walls all through the night, and they had constructed a large metal cistern in which to hold clean water. The smell of cooking meat rose on the breeze, the meager results of the day's hunting parties now roasting on the central fire. As many of them as there were, however, Lincoln knew that the food was not nearly enough. The young Sky People seemed to be learning surprisingly quickly how to find and gather food, but he didn't doubt that most of them were still very hungry. Despite all the progress they had made, the camp and its people still balanced on the knife point of survival.
Lincoln wondered if they had any true idea of just how precariously their lives hung in the balance. He did sense a strained urgency in them, and could see the worry on the faces of the young men and women who now patrolled the camp at night. They clutched their makeshift weapons with tight, anxious fingers, and peered outwards into the forest beyond, searching for hidden threats. They never did think to look up, much to his amusement. Regardless, rather than the full-blown panic he had been expecting after their nearly deadly run-in with Reapers, the camp appeared instead to be in a state of heightened alertness. It was clear that they now knew they were sharing the woods with dangerous things, but their relative calm made him doubt that they had any real idea of just how dangerous their situation was.
Their preparedness was because of her, of course… Their leader. He had felt oddly relieved to discover that the leader of the Sky People was a woman. It made them feel less alien and more relatable. His own people had always believed that women made better chiefs and were more suited to leadership, and the young woman clearly held her people's respect. Lincoln couldn't see her now – she had retired to one of the smaller tents shortly after sunset – but he could clearly picture her in his mind's eye. What a fascinating mystery she was… She and her young brother. They stood apart from their companions in noticeable ways. For starters, they moved as though they belonged on the ground, and what he had seen of their fighting skills when they clashed with the Reapers had impressed him greatly. Their techniques, and the way they had fought with both spear and sword, had been familiar. It was as though they had been trained as one of his own people, and he had been so confused by this in the heat of the moment that he had unthinkingly issued his warning to them in his own people's language. What was more, the way the two siblings had reacted to his words, he could have sworn that they had both understood him…
But, if they had understood him, then why were they all still here? Their walls might protect them some against Reapers, but they would do nothing to protect them if the Mountain Men themselves took an interest. Lincoln did not yet completely understand why, but he felt compelled to help these strange people, though he knew his fascination and empathy for them went against the fierce tribalism his own people believed in. Fear of outsiders and hatred for the enemy were a part of their culture, and these Sky People spoke the enemy's language and were therefore a potential danger to the Woods Clan. If anyone else from Trikru were there with him, he knew they would be demanding that they return and inform the Elders and the Chief of this new threat.
Are these people really a threat, though? Lincoln wondered. He had watched them for days now and had listened to many of their conversations. In his heart, the gentle warrior did not believe that these people from the sky were his enemies.
He knew what his duty was, and he knew many among his people might disagree with his failure to raise the alarm, but he also knew this was not something he could do. He would not cause the senseless deaths of these young people. This cruel world was always making demands, trying to force him to do terrible things and make terrible choices, and he had always felt a sense of helpless rage at that fact. This was part of the reason why he lived mostly apart from his people. This feeling he now had, however… This felt like something new.
This felt like hope.
Linkon kom Trikru held his place beside the Skaikru camp all night, remaining hidden, watchful and silent. Overhead, the moon peaked through the clouds a second time. The young warrior lifted his face to the night's sky, his eye's searching out the light that shone above through the surrounding darkness. For a brief moment his dark features were illuminated with pure brightness, then the moon disappeared again, and the harsh wilderness of the night swallowed him up once more.
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"I'm sorry, Leksa…"
BANG!
The Commander bolted awake, her breath heaving in a strangled gasp, hand reaching automatically for the knife still strapped to her thigh. She blinked at her dark surroundings, confused and only half awake. This wasn't her bedroom in Polis… Nor was it the large tent she generally lived in while out on campaign or when visiting other clans. Her eyes darted left and right, struggling to determine where she was and how she had gotten here, her mind still partially overtaken by the nightmare that had awoken her.
"What is it, Heda? Are you alright?"
It was Aden's voice, and her eyes found him in the dark. He was lying down only a few feet away on a makeshift cot of his own, sitting up and rubbing his tired eyes. With a rush, she remembered that she was not in Polis anymore, or even among the clans, but was in fact in the small tent she and Aden now shared in the dropship camp. When the sun went down earlier, they had both turned in early to try to get some much needed rest. That couldn't have been more than an hour or two ago, however, and she immediately felt bad for waking the tired boy.
"It's nothing, just a bad dream," she reassured him, sitting upright and swinging her legs to rest on the ground. She rubbed her throbbing temple with one hand, frowning as the headache continued to creep up her neck and through her skull. The headaches were a common thing these past few days, and seemed to be growing slightly worse each time, despite the fact that she no longer reached intentionally for the Commander's spirit. It was just one more thing to add to the growing list of worries that she now carried.
"You were talking in your sleep… It sounded like a bad one," Aden told her, concerned. "What was it about?"
Lexa turned her face away from him and stared at the bright fabric of the tent, not wanting him to see any of the anguish she was feeling. He was right, of course. It had been a bad one, and her heart was still racing from the dream which had woken her. She was used to bad dreams, it was true, but they were normally messages and visions from the spirit of the Commander. This nightmare, however, had been entirely of her own making.
"I was dreaming of my death… The one that brought me here," she explained finally, needing to speak aloud the thoughts which plagued her. This did partially concern Aden as well, and he deserved to know some of the conclusions she was beginning to draw about the events which led to her assassination at the hands of her most trusted advisor.
"Titus said something to me to that night… He told me not to worry; that he would protect my legacy. They were the last words he spoke to me, and I didn't understand why at the time. He'd just shot me in the back, and I knew I was dying. Why would a traitor like him, my murderer, care about my legacy? He had just destroyed my hopes for peace, betrayed his Commander and broken his sacred oaths, and yet he dared apologize and promise to protect my people? It didn't make any sense to me then."
"What about now?" Aden asked, curiosity and sadness in his voice.
Lexa looked back at him, meeting his eyes.
"Now… I think he meant it, that he really did intend to do as he said. I've been wondering why he asked you to wait for him that night in the Sacred Chamber… Why he didn't kill me outright, but instead wounded me in a way that almost guaranteed I would die slowly. I think it was all carefully planned. I think he'd decided that he might need to kill me hours, maybe even days before, and he knew he needed me to die slowly… He needed time to frame the Skaikru prisoner before returning and performing the death ritual."
"But… Why? Why would he do all that?" Aden asked, "I always thought Titus loved you… That he cared for all of us! He was a loyal Fleimkepa for three Commanders before you... Was that all just lies?"
"No, I don't think so," Lexa replied, her own voice dipping into sadness. Any time she thought of her teacher she was filled with such conflicting emotions. Sadness, rage, anger, hopelessness, betrayal… It was difficult to determine which was strongest. Her initial anger hadn't allowed her to examine her memories of her death very carefully – it had been too raw and painful – but now that some time had passed, she found that she was able to think about what had happened in a more analytical light. Titus was clearly not the man she had thought him to be, but not everything about him could have been lies, and despite what he had done, she still believed a part of him had cared for her very much. Therefore, he must have had compelling reasons for doing what he did. Reasons that felt completely rational and necessary to him.
"I think Titus was doing what he thought was best for our people. I think he believed my commitment to peace was going to cost us everything, and might even allow the Entity to enslave humanity once and for all. When he realized he couldn't change my mind about Skaikru, he must have decided the only solution was for there to be a new Commander, but he knew he couldn't trust that Azgeda woman to respect the teachings of the Blood… He made sure you were there, already waiting in the Sacred Chamber when he killed me. I suspect he intended all along to begin the Conclave in secret immediately after my death, and to do everything he could to ensure that you were the next one chosen. He didn't want to give Ontari time to arrive and run the risk of the Spirit choosing her."
"So, he wanted me to be Commander? Why me?" Aden asked, "I also vowed I would protect Skaikru… I made an oath to Wanheda just the same as you."
Because, despite your skills and potential, you are still just a boy, and he believed he could control you better than he could me, Lexa thought, though she didn't say it. To tell Aden this would be as good as blaming him out loud for her death, though she certainly didn't feel that way. It couldn't be denied, however, that if it weren't for the fact that Titus felt he had a strong, viable replacement in Aden, he might not have had the courage to go through with killing her as he did. When he felt she was no longer faithful to his teachings and wasn't fulfilling her duties, removing her and ensuring that Aden would be the next Commander had been the logical next step. He probably hadn't even viewed it as a betrayal, but instead as something that must be done in higher service to the Commander's eternal flame.
"I believe you would have tried, Aden, but Titus knows how to manipulate. He would have told you that it was someone from Skaikru who killed me, and then used your emotions over my death to persuade you to declare war."
"I wouldn't have done it!" the boy insisted, and she had to smile at his stubbornness, "I would have figured out that he was lying somehow… And besides, with the Commander's spirit inside me, wouldn't I have had your memories as well, and known what really happened?"
"The Spirit is not quite so straightforward as all that, I'm afraid," Lexa informed him. She stood up, suddenly feeling restless and needing to pace. Discussing the Spirit only made her more aware of its disturbing, continued silence.
"Often the Spirit is like someone whispering quietly in your ear, and other times it is merely a sense of absolute certainty…. An urgency, I guess you could say, to do something that is very important. It works a bit different in the spirit world, of course, but that is a lesson for another time, I think."
The boy looked thoughtful at her words, frowning down at his hands in the dark. The Natblidas were taught much that was intended to prepare them for the Conclave, but a great deal more was kept secret from them. Only the Commander and the Fleimkepa truly knew all of the secrets of the Spirit. She no longer had a Fleimkepa in this life, however, and her faint, but growing memories of the Ark told her that she and Aden were the last of the Nightbloods. There was no reason to keep secrets from him anymore. If anything happened to her, Aden would be the only one capable of carrying on. She would need to make a point of teaching him more about the Spirit whenever she could. If her death had taught her anything, it was that life was a fleeting, fragile thing. Like a single candle flame, the slightest unexpected breeze might blow it out at any moment.
"Go back to sleep, Aden… We'll talk more later," she told him, pulling on her black jacket and slipping her pack over her shoulders. Since discovering what it contained, she never left the pack anywhere untended. She had even fitted it with a sheath for the sword she had taken from one of the Reapers, so it now served a dual function of carrying her sword on her back. Even here inside the camp walls, Lexa refused to go anywhere unarmed.
"Aren't you going back to sleep?" he called after her, but the question went unanswered, the tent flap swinging shut behind her as she stepped outside and briskly strode into the cold night, leaving him behind.
He is worried about me.
The thought was tinged with guilt. Aden cared about her, and though a part of her wanted to let down her guard, to let herself love him fully and remember him as her younger brother, a larger, more prominent part of her was scared to let herself be that vulnerable again. She had lost too much… First Costia, then Anya, Gustus, and in a way, Titus, as well as countless others who had been lost in battle over the years. Now even Clarke had been torn away from her, separated by an entirely different world and time. Clarke's loss was the worst of all of them because it was Clarke whom she had loved the most. If she let herself love Aden now without reserve, what would his death do to her?... What would hers do to him? In this harsh, unforgiving world, one or the other coming to pass was almost a guarantee.
You may have taught me that love isn't weakness, Clarke, but that doesn't mean it isn't also unbearably hard…
Lexa approached the central cook fire where several people still stood clustered around its warmth. Wells was there, and she automatically crossed to stand next to him. Of all the young Sky People who had come down in the dropship, she still liked him the most, though he was also the one she most frequently clashed with. They had worked closely together over the past few days, and his help in organizing the efforts of the camp had been critical. It was largely thanks to him that things were running so smoothly and the wall was nearly complete.
Lexa was good at simultaneously inspiring and intimidating people. When she spoke, others generally leapt into action. This was an excellent ability to have when leading warriors on the battlefield, or when keeping fierce clan chiefs in line, but she found it was less useful when trying to work with the more sensitive among the young Arkers. They were not warriors and many of them were quite young and inexperienced. Calming their nerves and getting them to work together often required a more delicate touch, and this was where Wells excelled. His gentleness and quiet confidence worked wonders, and she had quickly learned to use his skills to her advantage. She was learning to trust his judgement on many things, but she knew he still did not completely trust her… Not that she entirely blamed him.
"Did everyone get a fair share of the food?" she asked him, not bothering with a greeting. She had been too tired earlier to wait for the meat to finish cooking, and had entrusted him with its equal distribution.
"Yes, though a few people complained that it was so little. Finn saved some for you and Aden."
"It was too little… Hopefully our hunting parties will have better luck tomorrow."
"They might have better luck if you would allow them to go further out, or send more groups," Wells observed, watching her carefully as he rekindled their earlier argument.
"We've been over this, Wells… We can't risk it."
"These walls and weapons we're making won't do us any good if we're starving, Black."
"We won't starve," she growled, starting to get annoyed with the conversation. The headache that had been starting to recede was now returning full force. She was beginning to wish that she had not left her tent, though her nightmare and subsequent conversation with Aden had left her far too restless and melancholy for sleep.
"It was only their second day out hunting. They'll get better with practice, and I'm confident they'll find more to eat tomorrow. Besides, if we send too many people out looking for food, it doesn't leave enough back here to defend the camp should we be attacked."
She didn't know why she bothered explaining this again. She and Wells had already had this same argument several times over the past three days. Ever since she, Finn and Aden had returned to camp with their story of being attacked by the Reapers, Wells had not seemed to fully understand the level of danger surrounding them. This frustrated her. True, it was probably due to the fact that she and Finn had agreed to downplay what had happened with the Reapers, so she had no one but herself to blame. They'd described being attacked by a group of savage men, of course, but rather than focus on the attack itself, they had instead highlighted the fact that another man had helped to save them.
Their reasons for doing so had been twofold. Lexa had wanted to avoid causing a panic while also opening the door for eventual peace with Trikru… Assuming their surprise savior was who she suspected him to be, of course.
"I hope you're right," Wells grumbled, "It's not too late to go to Mount Weather, you know."
Lexa didn't reply, refusing to take the bait, and their conversation lapsed into silence. The other people at the fire slowly drifted away to find their own makeshift beds, and eventually Wells also left her. She stood alone for some time, her mind drifting and thoughts very far away. Her extravagant bed in Polis felt entire lifetimes distant, as did the sensation of Clarke's lips on her own. Lexa raised her hand, touching her own lips, lost suddenly in her memories of the one night together they had shared. Her skin flushed at how clearly she could remember it all, and her chest ached. What would Clarke think of all this? Of her, here among her friends, leading them in her stead? Would she approve of what Lexa was trying to do? All Clarke had ever wanted was for her people to be safe… Somehow, working to make sure that Skaikru was safe even in this alternate reality made Lexa feel just a bit closer to her.
"Couldn't sleep?" a voice asked, and Lexa pulled herself from her thoughts, surprised that he had managed to sneak up on her. For all his faults, Finn was turning out to be a bit of a natural on the ground, and his abilities at tracking and moving quietly through the forest were improving every day. He was currently leading one of the more successful hunting parties, though he still refused to carry a weapon and let others do the killing of any animals they came across. His dislike for violence was baffling… Was this truly the same man who had slaughtered so many of her innocent people? The more she got to know him, the more improbable it seemed. Anyone was capable of doing truly horrible things, she knew, but the Finn she was beginning to get to know doing so seemed highly unlikely.
"Finn," she said, nodding her head once to acknowledge his presence, but ignoring his question. Finn did not seem to be as intimidated by her as the others were – though she knew the violence of three days ago had frightened and disgusted him – and he had the frustrating tendency to ask probing, personal questions that she would rather not answer.
He watched her profile for several quiet moments, waiting to see if she would say more, then continued.
"I have some food for you and Aden. I can grab it for you now, if you like," he told her.
"No, that's not necessary. Aden is asleep now. We'll eat in the morning."
"Ahh, breakfast… I'm almost jealous."
Another silence descended, and he didn't look away, still studying her carefully.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, "You seem a bit… off."
Lexa glanced at him sharply, her eyes narrowing and features hardening into a cold mask. He was far too observant for his own good. He seemed to have a much heightened sense of empathy, and his ability to read what people were really thinking and feeling verged on the uncanny sometimes. It was yet another reason why she felt she always needed to be on guard around him.
"It's nothing that concerns you, Finn," she snapped, holding his stare in challenge for a moment before turning back to the fire. Now she was really regretting ever having left her tent earlier. First Wells, now Finn? Were these young Sky People merely stupidly brave, or was she losing her ability to make even these children fear her?
As if to prove her thoughts to be true, rather than back down at her words and glare, Finn took a step closer, expression sympathetic in the firelight.
"Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"It doesn't seem I can stop you," she growled, clenching her jaw. Her emotions had been unusually raw ever since waking from the nightmare of her death, and she was also very, very tired. Therefore, she felt less prepared than usual to face difficult questions from Finn.
"I was wondering why you are so determined to protect everybody. Why you were willing to risk your life, and the life of your brother, to save mine… You've lost people before, haven't you? People you care about?" he asked, and she felt a stab of pain at his words.
Of all the times to come to me and ask me about who I have lost, he had to choose right now?
But he wasn't finished.
"You weren't able to save them, and now I think you feel like you need to try to save everyone else."
Lexa turned to look at him, affected by his words despite herself. What could she say, truly? He was right, at least in part, but there was so much more she could never tell him… Never tell anyone, besides Aden. What motivations could she give these people? The others might believe she was just another one of them, and simply wanted them to survive until the Ark came down, but Finn seemed to sense that she was something more. He wanted to know who she really was, but that was not something she would ever be able to tell him.
"I'm just doing what's necessary to keep us all alive, Finn," she answered finally, giving the best answer that she could.
"Maybe, but it's more than that," he argued, not letting it go. He seemed to think for a moment, struggling with something internally, then he asked her something else… Something that made her stop breathing completely.
"Who is Clark?"
He watched her face when he asked, saw her react to his question.
"When I found you on the dropship, when you first came out from inside the wall, you called that name a couple times… Who is he?" he asked gently.
"Not he… She," Lexa corrected without thinking, swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat. She hadn't thought anyone had noticed or remembered her calling Clarke's name on the dropship, not in all the excitement and confusion. Had he also noticed how surprised she was to find Aden there? If he had, he might be doubting her entire story about why she was on the dropship in the first place.
"Oh, sorry, I just assumed it was a boy's name," Finn apologized. She wondered if she detected a hint of relief in his voice, then decided she had imagined it.
"Who is she?" he asked again, but Lexa had finally decided that she had had enough of this intrusive conversation. She stepped away from the fire, turning back towards her tent.
"Go to sleep, Finn," she called over her shoulder, not bothering to look back at him as she spoke, "The hunting parties leave at first light."
Lexa Black strode away from him then, vanishing into the night as soon as she had taken more than a dozen steps from the circle of light around the fire. She returned immediately to her tent and stripped off her sword, pack and jacket, leaving her boots on so that she could be ready to move at a moment's notice. Lying down on her bunk once more, Finn's last words to her echoed in her head, the weight of them heavy and immense, like an unanswered prophecy had accidentally been spoken.
Who is she?...
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Marcus Kane sat down on the edge of his bed in just his pants and socks, his chest still pale and bare in the light of the single lamp that illuminated his room. He bent over, fishing underneath the bed for his discarded boots, pulling them both on and tightening the laces slowly. Behind him, his sheets rustled as the languorous figure of the woman lying on top of them stretched like a satisfied cat, completely unselfconscious in her nakedness. He turned to look down at her, a strange mix of guilt, arousal, and even something that might be affection swirling around within him at the sight.
This was a mistake, he thought.
"This was a mistake," he said, repeating his thought out loud, "This can't happen again."
Anya raised one elegant eyebrow at his words.
"Oh, Marcus, don't be so dramatic," she sighed, closing her eyes and stretching one final time. She opened them again, frowning when she saw the expression on his face.
"Let's not pretend this was anything more than what it was," she scolded, sliding past him and standing smoothly, her movements unhurried. He watched her from his seat on the bed as she went back and forth across the room, gathering up her scattered clothing and pulling it on piece by piece.
"What was this, exactly?" he asked, frustrated with himself for asking the moment the words left his mouth.
Anya tossed him an annoyed glance.
"Are you getting sentimental on me now?" she asked, her voice a sultry purr, but her words carried a clear warning.
"Of course not… I know you better than that. Besides, you know I'm not the sentimental type."
"Really?" she drawled, turning back to him and now almost fully dressed. Her lips were twisted into a tiny smirk, eyes glittering with amusement.
What's that supposed to mean?
He frowned, uncomfortable as always with her finding amusement at his expense. The single word seemed to pack layers of hidden meaning, but he had learned not to try to decipher and analyze every little thing she said. Doing something like that with Anya Petrova could drive any man crazy.
"Why did you come here tonight, Anya?" he asked, sidestepping her comment entirely.
"I should think it was obvious," she replied, now slowly doing up the buttons on the white blouse she had been wearing beneath her suit jacket when she arrived at his door an hour earlier. This wasn't the first time they had slept together, of course, but it had been quite a while, and Kane had been surprised to find her there with that predatory gleam in her eye. He should have turned her away right then and there. Getting involved with her at this point in time was completely unethical, despite the fact that any "relationship" they'd ever had had always been strictly of the physical sort. Anya was an incredibly complex, guarded woman, and she kept nearly everyone at arms-length… Even her occasional lovers. He was no exception, however, he did feel he understood her better than most, and he had always respected her intelligence and unbreakable will.
"You still wear that old thing?" he asked, noticing when she pulled a necklace from her pocket and slipped it around her neck. It was a gold, Russian Orthodox styled cross on a thin gold chain, and very few people knew she wore it. The old religions were not popular on the Ark, and hadn't been for some time. He had never been able to determine if Anya truly had faith, or if she simply wore the necklace as a family heirloom.
"Everyone needs to believe in something more from time to time," she said, pulling on her shoes, "Didn't your mother teach you that?"
"I've forgotten most of what my mother taught me about her faith… It's not what is keeping this Ark and the people on it alive."
"Choosing not to remember is not the same as forgetting," she told him, fully dressed now and standing by the hatch door, clearly ready to leave now that she had gotten what she wanted from him.
"And I think you're wrong, by the way… Faith is exactly what is keeping us all alive. Oh, not faith in God, necessarily, but faith in something… Your mother has her tree, and you have your precious book, but it's all the same, really."
Kane heard the disdain in her voice when she said the words "precious book", and he couldn't help but glance at his single bookshelf where his well-worn copy of the Ark Charter rested.
"The Ark Charter is the only, the only thing keeping humanity from complete disaster. Faith has nothing to do with it. It's a fact," he declared passionately, believing every word. He paused and swallowed, but it didn't help keep him from issuing his next poorly veiled warning.
"People who forget that… People who think they can live outside the rules, or break them and get away with it, are only damning themselves in the end, Anya, and potentially many others."
The Councilwoman's eyes narrowed, her entire demeanor changing in an instant. Immediately, Marcus knew that he had just said too much.
"Is that what this is about, then? Is this an interrogation, Marcus?"
He felt a chill run through him at her words. She knew. She might not know exactly what was going on, be she knew, or at least suspected, that he was investigating her. He wondered if she had known before she even came here, and if this hadn't all been a clever act from the start… It was certainly something she was more than capable of.
"Not an interrogation… A warning. You need to be careful, Anya. You know I don't agree with everything the Chancellor is doing, but the Charter is still the Charter, and I am still the Ark's Chief of Security. Jaha has never liked you. If he discovers anything, anything he can use against you, you know he won't hesitate, and he'll make sure he drags anyone else you might have gotten involved down with you. You need to think carefully about whether or not it's worth it."
Anya stared back at him coldly, any earlier hint of teasing warmth now completely gone. He couldn't explain exactly why he had let her into his room, or why he was warning her now. They may have been lovers on occasion, but they were not friends. She was loyal only to her people on Polaris station, and he was sworn solely to uphold the Ark Charter. Often, those two interests did not align. Jaha had ordered him to search for a link between Anya and the unregistered boy, but his observations so far over the last few days had revealed many confusing results. He was convinced she was about to do something foolish and very illegal, and her reaction now only solidified his suspicions.
"Careful… If I didn't know better, I might think you actually cared about what happens to me."
"I care about doing what's right."
"That's always been your problem, Kane," she said, and he could feel the walls and gates locking back into place completely between them when she switched to using his last name. With Anya, the line between affection and antagonism could be a very fine one indeed, and he now realized that she had in fact let down her barriers a bit with him earlier. She'd been teasing him, at ease and relaxed – though most would have been hard pressed to use those words to describe her behavior, as she was exceedingly difficult to read on an easy day – but not anymore. The fierce, determined regard of a first-rate political mind stared back at him now, her face unreadable and each word carefully chosen.
"You've always thought that some little squiggles of ink in a book written a hundred years ago hold all the answers… That right and wrong is as black and white as the pages you love so much."
She took a step closer, looking for a moment like a lean, dangerous animal that had just cornered its prey.
"But the universe isn't black and white… It can't be contained in your little book, and saving what's left of the human race is going to require more from us that just reading rules from a page. It's going to require faith… I know you had it once. You are your mother's son, after all. Maybe it's time for you to find it again."
Anya opened the hatch with a loud groan from its worn hinges. Once on the other side, she turned on her heel, pausing for a moment to look at him before pulling it shut behind her.
"Thanks for the warning, Marcus," she said, her voice softening to a tone that was much gentler than he ever remembered hearing before. He looked up, meeting her eyes across the room.
"No matter what you might tell yourself, I think you have a much bigger heart locked away inside that tin soldier chest than you give yourself credit for…"
With that, the door clanked shut, and Marcus suddenly found himself alone again. After a moment, he stood and crossed to the bookshelf, reaching instinctively for the text he had dedicated his life to. He held it in his hands for several minutes, turning the small book over and over, feeling the spots where the dark blue cover had worn down to a dull gray. He flipped through its pages, seeing his scrawled notes covering almost every bit of available space, years of study, thought and dedication evident in each careful annotation. He went back to his bed and lay down, letting the Ark Charter rest just above his heart on his chest, his eyes fixed sightlessly on the ceiling above as his mind turned over every word Anya had said.
Marcus Kane fell asleep like that sometime later, alone in his small, Spartan room. At some point in the night, the precious book he held slipped from his grasp and fell, landing unceremoniously on the floor beside him, but he did not wake.
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Raven opened her eyes to the sounds of loud, obnoxious pounding on her door. She groaned, fumbling at her nightstand to bring on a single light, squinting at the clock beside her bed as she did so. It was just after 2 am, station time, and waking up felt like being hit by a meteor and then getting dragged kicking and screaming across the solar system. Who could be at her door so early? This was her first time sleeping in her own bed for a couple days, as she had only allowed herself short catnaps on Polaris while working furiously on the pod. Sinclair had finally convinced her to go home and get cleaned up and some real sleep, however, and she had been forced to agree that she needed it. Sleeping on the floor or in a chair was rough, it was true, but smelling like a greasy, unwashed sock? That was unacceptable.
The knocking started up again, insistent, and Raven pulled herself to her feet, crossing over to the hatch and flinging it open angrily.
"There had better be a goddamn fire," she snarled, not waiting to see who it was.
"I'll start a fire under your ass if it will get you moving faster," Anya replied, shoving past Raven while the younger woman was still blinking at her in surprise. She closed the hatch immediately, knowing that the Councilwoman would demand she do so before she would talk.
"Anya? What are you doing here? It's after 2 am… Is everything alright?"
"No, as a matter of fact," she told her, and Raven could hear the stress in her voice. This was unusual. She had heard her be angry, sarcastic, arrogant, and even amused before, but never stressed. Something significant must be going on.
"We might be out of time… I need you back on Polaris, now."
"But… What do you mean? What's changed?" Raven asked, confused. Hadn't they discussed the fact that they had a few more days, at least? Surely the Council hadn't met and voted for population reduction in the middle of the night?
"We can't talk here, not even with the door closed. We need to go to Polaris, it's the only place that's reasonably safe. Pack everything you might need for the next few days… I don't know when you'll get to come back here."
Raven sucked in a breath. Anya had said "when", but she had really meant "if". Clearly something had happened that meant they now needed to launch much sooner than expected. She felt her excitement growing, bringing her fully awake and drowning out any nervousness.
"Okay, fine, just give me a couple of minutes."
She packed quickly, but also carefully since she knew she probably wouldn't be back, and within a half hour they were safely on Polaris once more. Anya let out a sigh of relief the moment they set foot on her station, and Raven struggled to contain the burst of curiosity that made her want to pump her for answers immediately. Instead, she waited until they had passed through all the required security gates and protocols, entering the highly secure inner section of Polaris and the launch bay where she had spent the last week working on the escape pod.
"Alright, we're here… Now, tell me what the hell is going on?"
"I have reason to believe, and they are very strong reasons, that Security is investigating me and anyone I have come into contact with over the past week," Anya told her, and she felt her blood drain from her head at the words.
"Do they know about our plan, then? About the escape pod?"
"No, I don't think they know anything solid yet, but they must have something, and just being under suspicion puts the whole mission at risk. We need to launch as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the greater the chance we will find ourselves floated before we can even commit the real crime."
"Can they really do that? Punish us even if we haven't launched the pod yet? That hardly seems fair," Raven complained, not able to hide the worry that crept into her voice.
"Think about it, Raven… You and Sinclair have been pilfering parts and supplies from other engineering projects, not to mention what was needed for the radio. That's more than enough already to float you both. As for myself, I'm sure that idiot Jaha could come up with some corruption or treason charges that would more than stick. They obviously don't have anything real yet, or they would already have come after us, but if they discover the pod, we're done for."
"Shit… Shit! Okay… let's see," Raven muttered, hurrying over to her haphazard workstation and shuffling through the notes she had scribbled on torn pieces of paper.
"How much time do we really have, then?" she asked, "I mean, are we talking minutes, hours… days? Just how crazy do I need to be willing to be?"
Anya thought hard for a moment, her sharp features pale and jaw noticeably clenched.
"Hours, probably. Maybe a day… two, if we are very lucky."
"Shit!" Raven repeated, closing her eyes for a moment to better think.
It's okay, just think… Think! Most of the major repairs are done, and you finally got the navigation systems back online, so that's good. There's still that corroded exterior panel that needs to be replaced, so who knows if the pressure seals will even hold, and then there's the tricky matter of fuel... As in, the pod doesn't have any yet. But Sinclair said he had a plan for that, so maybe we can do that sooner rather than later? Oh, and then there's about a dozen unresolved, small mechanical issues that could rear their ugly heads and come up to collectively bite me in the ass during entry and landing, but who's worried about those, really? It's not like the catastrophic failure of any one system on this pod at any point in time will kill me… Except that it will.
"We can launch today," Raven told her, opening her eyes.
"Really? Is it safe?"
"Yes… and no, not really. The two biggest issues right now are that faulty exterior panel and fuel. Sinclair said he had a plan for the fuel, and I think I know how to get around our potential loss of pressure issue, so as long as he can get the fuel today, we should be good to go."
"That's it?" Anya asked, a little disbelief in her voice. "I thought you guys said there was a lot more to be fixed?"
"There was... There is," she admitted, "I got the avionics and navigation working earlier today, however, and that was one of the biggest issues that absolutely needed to be fixed. Everything else is small stuff, for the most part. They might fail, and they will definitely cause problems if they do, but they won't keep us from launching. If we make it through entry, assuming everything else goes perfectly, the landing should be survivable as long as the chute deploys correctly... There was no way to test the chute. It will either work, or it won't, and you can name the giant crater after me in future history books."
The politician looked less than comforted by her explanations.
"Are you sure, Raven?" she asked with a note of concern. The emotion in the older woman's voice was new and unexpected.
Does hard-ass, I-don't-trust-anybody-so-you-better-watch-yourself Anya Petrova actually care about what happens to me?
"This mission… It's more important, more critical than you can possibly know. We must establish working communication with the ground! It's incredibly important that we be able to talk to Lexa, and that we find out once and for all if it is safe for the rest of us to return to the ground. I am not one given to making gross exaggerations, Raven, but the future of the human race literally hangs in the balance here… Can you do this? Can you land the pod safely?"
I think she does care, but it's not only about me. It's about the mission… and Lexa Black, her assistant that she keeps talking about. Just why in the hell is it so important to talk to Lexa? What does that have to do with convincing the Ark it is safe, and stopping the population culling?
Raven let all of her worries and thoughts roll through her. The self-doubt and fear that many others might have felt in her situation flashed within her for only the briefest of moments, then fled in the face of her absolute confidence and determination.
Didn't Anya know who she was talking to? She was Raven Reyes… the best damn mechanic on the Ark, and the youngest zero-G mechanic in fifty years.
…Fifty-two, to be exact.
"Of course I can," she said, smiling widely.
"Piece of cake."
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Author's Note:
Anya and Kane, sitting in a tree… Wait, no, Lincoln was in the tree. Sorry, my bad! Honestly though, the two of them just kind of happened. Don't worry, Kabby shippers! I am fully in the Kabby camp. I'm not sure who was using who more in that situation, Kane or Anya, but they both have a lot of emotional growing they need to do… Separately, I mean. They are in no way a romantic couple, so worry not!
This chapter and the previous chapter were a bit light on the action, but I promise the next chapter is very action heavy. I'm a sucker for character interactions, as you may have noticed, but I am trying not to get too bogged down with the story. Raven is coming down, and we'll be back to Clarke and the Skaibona gang real soon, so things are going to start to get pretty intense for our girl Lexa! I think the calm before the storm is pretty much over.
Just a note on my writing schedule. I am going to try really, really hard to stick to publishing AT LEAST one chapter a week, but the goal is two chapters per week. That being said, some chapters are longer than others, and I do have a full-time job and a life and stuff, so sometimes it just won't happen. Sorry in advance. One 100% guarantee I can definitely make, however, is that this story will get finished. I already have a kickass (in my opinion) ending in mind, and it would be disappointing not to get to write it, so unless everyone just up and quits on me, I feel comfortable making that promise.
Okay this note is way too long now. Thanks for reading, commenting and subscribing! I appreciate all of you awesome people!
-FlyUpInSky