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I see him take a deep breath and release some of the tension he has been holding in his shoulders. I know this burden has fallen unreasonably on Kahn. That ends today.
The council chamber is a large oval space. At the head of it sits the council, nine men who represent industry, politics, technology, spirituality, environment, family, past, present, and future. Each of them has an equal vote, and for any resolution to be passed, it must be a unanimous vote. I scan their faces and relax my mind to try to catch any stray thoughts. I do not sense much of anything, but that is not surprising. They are wise and practiced in the art of schooling their minds.
I have good reason to hope that there will not be a unanimous vote today, no matter how motivated Phenix Wrathelder is.
“What’s the angle?” I ask Kahn.
“He’s saying it’s an interplanetary emergency, that Earth needs to be evacuated in order for humanity to survive.”
“When is it not a planetary emergency?”
“Exactly.”
“We should take our seats. The human shouldn’t be here,” Kahn says, shooting an unimpressed look at Jennifer, who for once is being very quiet and very well behaved.
“I couldn’t leave her alone. She won’t be a problem.”
Kahn looks doubtful at that, but leads me to the interlocution benches, set at the very front before the council themselves. The Wrathelders are on one side. We are on the other.
It has been almost three full years since I faced our political enemies. I thought I was calmer and more collected than Zain. I had told myself that I was above falling prey to their machinations and could not be drawn into the drama.
The moment Phenix Wrathelder makes eye contact with me, it is all I can do not to hurl myself over the table and attack him. Seeing the face of the destruction of my family is nearly too much to bear, and a large part of the reason I have avoided council matters.
Phenix is my counterpart, the eldest son of his familial dynasty. He is several years older than I am, and has the most smug, some would say noble, bearing. He has the raven hair all Wrathelders do, and the piercing blue eyes to match. I have little else to say about him and having noticed those two details is more than enough. Appearance aside, he is a venomous influence in the city, and in all likelihood the reason my father is dead. Whether he took matters into his own hands, or hired thugs to do the job for him, it makes little difference.
His two wives are flanking him. One of them is an older mate with red hair and a general air of elegance and power. The other is a beautiful, slightly younger female with hair the color of mine. One smiles blandly around at the room in general, and at the councilors especially. The other studiously avoids all eye contact, especially with Kahn and me.
I flinch as a hand touches my shoulder. Then I realize it is Kahn.
“Are you alright, brother?” There is concern in his soft tone as he chooses to use human speech instead of telepathic tongue that might be more easily intercepted by others in the room.
“I’d forgotten what it is like to face this bastard.” My voice comes out in a soft growl. This is the seat of our entire civilization, and yet I feel more feral than ever. Seeing Zain mere minutes ago, having Jen by my side — a creature who may as well be a talisman of rage, being faced by my father’s stone visage before entering the council chambers, it has all had an intense effect. I find myself actually struggling with self-control.
“Zain’s actions seem so much more reasonable when you have to look at his face,” Kahn agrees. His admission surprises me slightly. Kahn always pretends to be above these things. We both might have been putting on a show for one another.
“Is she always here?” I ask the question in low tones.
Kahn catches my eye and nods.
“Is that the man who killed your father?” Jen pipes up in the quietest voice she can muster. I had almost forgotten she was here, she has been so uncharacteristically compliant. I feel her next to me, pressed close, a warm and comforting little lump of support.
“Yes,” I reply softly.
“Who are the two women?”
“His wives.”
“How many fucking wives does one guy need?”
I snort gently. Phenix is greedy. One day it will be his downfall. For the moment it simply means he has far more of absolutely everything he needs, including wives.
The meeting begins when the council rises and then sits again. There are a few telepathic formalities, but they do not last long. This is an emergency meeting, apparently, and it is being treated with urgency.
Phenix Wrathelder is given the floor. Phenix stands up, immediately leaving the space behind his table, moving to claim the center of the council chambers, pacing back and forth in his black and red robes. He makes expressions of great gravity for a good long while before he actually speaks, as if trying to impress us with the great depth of his thoughts.
“Hurry up, dickhead,” Jen mumbles under her breath. I feel her next to me, squirming impatiently. Putting a hand on her leg seems to calm her, but I can feel the tension in her body almost as well as I feel the tension in mine.
Phenix’s first words are an outrageous exaggeration. He chooses to speak in human tongue as well. Perhaps he is trying to demonstrate his own proficiency in that language.
