Page 77 of Alien's Eternal Mate

I chuckled and turned to face him.

“Younger men and women handle the reins of government in all but name anyway. My time has passed. I want to be at home, with your mother, not spending all my time in endless meetings.”

Ajax remained by the window as I slowly walked back to my seat. I settled into the chair. Ajax rested his hand against the window and stared out at the nightscape.

“You didn’t even put your name up for nomination, did you?”

“You always were a smart lad.”

Ajax sighed and came to sit on my desk.

“I’m hardly a lad any longer, Dad. I’m the Second at the Killmonger Sage Tower, and I took a lifemate years ago. I stopped being your little boy a long time ago.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’ll always be my little boy, even if you have grown up taller than me. Don’t forget I’m the one who took out Grhoma Jark.”

I mimed a punch or two at him. He laughed, but then his face grew somber.

“How is Mom doing these days?”

“She’s doing fine. The Twins stop by between classes at the university to see her quite a bit. I know she’s been lonely, though. That’s part of why I want to retire.”

Ajax’s tail twitched, telling the story his mouth would not.

“Go ahead and ask me, son.”

“Fine. Why do you want to retire, if not just to spend more time with Mom?”

I gestured out the window.

“Take a look, Ajax. We’ve created a republic that stretches all the way around the globe. It’s always sunny somewhere in the Republic, as they say.”

Ajax nodded.

“It’s true. Are you feeling like there is nothing left to accomplish?”

“Not at all. The Masari are yet to be fully unified.”

Ajax stared out the window as a cargo aircraft streaked through the sky. Its escort of combat hovercraft appeared only as smaller amber trails.

“It’s not your fault the Traditionalists think Castes are more important than advancing as a people.”

“Careful, son. Don’t be prejudiced. Many of the Traditionalists are not violent, and they truly believe that they are advancing the Masari as a people, just in a different way than we are.”

Ajax made a frustrated sound and threw his hands up in the air.

“They are wrong, though.”

“You and I may think so, but we bring our own prejudices and experiences to every judgment we make.” I sighed, and stroked my chin while I gathered my thoughts. “Look, son. It’s easy to lump people into one group, and think of them as more or less a singular entity. It's too easy, in fact. Don’t judge all Traditionalists by the actions of the extremists who claim to speak for them.”

Ajax stood up, his eyes filled with challenge.

“And if the Traditionalists blew up this building tomorrow, and you died, would you want me to seek revenge?”

“No, son. I would not want you to seek revenge. I would want the people responsible to be found and dealt with appropriately, especially so they might not harm anyone else. But revenge, hatred, prejudice…it’s all the same thing, Ajax. Never forget that.”

My son stood up, and he offered me his hand. This time I accepted his help to stand.

“I actually didn’t come by to talk politics, Dad. I have some news. Sula’s pregnant.”

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