Page 46 of Twins for the Barbarians

“Yes, and it scares me,” he says, giving me a worried look. “Who did this? Why? And the nastiest thing about it is how well-timed it was. The events unfolded at such a rapid pace and across different hot spots that no one gave it a second thought. Someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure this virus spread quickly and efficiently.”

“Which means there’s a culprit at the bottom of the whole thing,” I tell him. “It’s definitely someone who had something to gain from a widespread infection. We have to consider everyone a suspect. Every group, every governing body of every city, every higher-up, until we understand precisely who’s growing and thriving when everyone else is struggling.”

“Our species is dying out,” Kingo says. “How could anyone profit from that?”

And then it hits me: The tiny suspicion I had in the back of my mind from the moment I arrived here has now morphed into full-blown doubt and has turned into a heavy burden that has been weighing me down and that I carry with me everywhere. My stomach tightens as I look around and begin to consider the possibility that there may be a sliver of truth woven into this doubt of mine.

“Think about it for a second, Kingo,” I say, lowering my voice so that the guards hovering at the door of this basement archive don’t overhear us. “Who is thriving while the rest of us blow each other up and force the few remaining women of Sunna to bear your children?”

Kingo silently regards me, his red eyes glistening and widening with horror as he, too, begins to understand the possibility that I’ve been harboring for about a week. “You can’t be serious.”

“Their females are safe and cared for. They have family units. They have no contact with the outside world, no knowledge of the war and struggles that you and your people have been going through for so many years,” I reply. “There’s a saying back home, Kingo. Usually, the simplest explanation, no matter how far-fetched and insane it may sound, is the truth. Opal City is thriving at a time when the rest of Sunna is literally burning down around it.”

“Okay…but how do we prove it? Why would they have given us access to all these documents if they had something to hide?”

I can’t help but smile. “That’s the question to end all questions.”

He nods slowly. “Right.”

“So either they won’t let us leave Opal City alive when it’s time for us to go because they know we’ve figured out the truth,” I say. “Or…they don’t think we’re sharp enough to figure out the truth. So far, I’m thinking it’s the latter, but they are super cautious. Even the wives are mindful of what they say to us. And keeping us isolated from the rest of the population works to their advantage. The fewer people we talk to, the less chance there is that we’ll notice anything suspicious.”

Kingo nods again, staring at the file in front of him. The papers are old and yellowed by the passage of time, and the black ink has faded slightly. His nimble fingers rest hold the documents by their tattered corners. “What do we do then?”

“We play along. We try to talk to the service staff within the palace when the guards and the wives aren’t looking. We stick to our research and pretend it’s getting us nowhere. We act like we just can’t figure it out. It doesn’t matter that it’s staring us right in the face; clearly, we’re not sharp enough to grasp it. That’s what we want Solomon to think anyway.”

“We play along. We play dumb. We follow their rules,” he concludes.

“And we keep digging. I’m sure we’ll find what we’re looking for eventually. But we’re not going to get very far while they’ve got a laser focus on us.”

But then the room starts spinning as the dizziness takes over. Kingo immediately sees the change in my demeanor. “Alicia, you don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel so good.”

My voice is barely a whisper. I break into a cold sweat, my heartbeat drumming in my ears as I fall off my chair and hit the hard floor with a thud. I don’t know what’s come over me, but it’s as if my body has decided to let go. Nausea unfurls in my throat, and heat courses through my torso as I struggle to stay conscious. I feel Kingo’s arms scoop me up. I hear him gasping.

“You’re going to be okay,” he says.

The door opens. I can’t see it anymore, but I recognize the sound of its hinges. Kingo says something to the guards. I hear them talking in hushed tones. Then, I’m being carried out of the basement, but I can’t hold on. The darkness soon overtakes me. Its embrace is warm and oddly soothing.

I regain consciousness to the steady beeping of a machine. I was in the middle of a dream, but I can’t remember it. I open my eyes and embrace reality, regardless of how cold it makes me feel.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Solomon says.

Slowly, I glance around and begin to understand where I am while I try to remember what happened. “I passed out,” I mumble, the memory of feeling faint coming back like a rushing stream of jumbled sounds and images.

“You most certainly did. You gave us quite the scare, Alicia,” Solomon replies.

I’m still in the hospital, but not in the basement. I assume I’m on one of the upper levels in a private suite. There are probably soldiers outside guarding my door. I doubt any city dwellers know I’m here. What fascinates me the most, though, is that the king himself has chosen to be by my side upon my awakening. Right now, he’s adding a conductor gel to an ultrasound device, his hands moving with the lightness and habit of a doctor.

“Where is Kingo?” I ask, uneasy without my friend here.

“I sent him back to the palace with an escort of his own,” Solomon says. “I wanted to make sure you’re in good health before I allow you to return, too.”

“Oh.”

“He’s safe; you don’t have to worry about him.”

“Why are you here, then?” I reply, giving Solomon a questioning look.

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