Page 70 of Red Demon
The air inside tasted stale and moldy. A single light with a yellowed glow lit us overhead in a small room about the size of the bathhouse back home. A dusty terminal sat over a counter, with two sturdy metal chairs in front. The screen flickered on with monochrome white text above the image of an oak tree with two intertwining branches: Queen Azara’s Introgression Tree.
Fuck, I could get arrested for this, couldn’t I?
Then displays lit up around the room—maps, news headlines.
“I’ll be just outside.” Her voice echoed in the cramped space. “You’re safe in here.”
I nodded. The door closed behind her before I moved a finger. I didn’t need her looking over my shoulder, learning where to go to kill my last brother.
The buttons felt familiar in my hands, even though it had been a while. I’d loved the terminal I sometimes got to use in my school at Crofton. Perhaps being told I couldn’t take them home made them seem more magical.
I saw a headline: “Asri rebels overtake tech in Syren, Meyit. Citizens demand tighter restrictions.” Underneath, a photo of a crying child behind the burnt remains of a truck. Directly beside it, an article about the last episode of a serial called “Crossed Wires,” described as “an unlikely love story between a Chaeten Z’har scholar and a scrappy member of an Asri-street gang.” In the last episode, the Asri main character Arana had been beaten by her father when she failed to follow through on an attack on the Chaeten boy’s temple. I could click a button to watch, but I kept looking for the program to find Ash.
I found it: Central Citizenship. At the temple, priests could use it to show where everyone in the empire lived, among other things. First, I typed in my last name, “Eirini.” clicked the box for “living” and narrowed down other filters. A wave of relief washed over me when I saw Asher’s name listed alongside mine, and photos taken by the priests during the last Rain Festival.
Most of Ash’s profile was locked away. A security prompt materialized on the screen, demanding a passcode when I tried to click further.
“Great,” I muttered, glancing back at the empty doorway.
I picked my walking stick off the floor, hoping she wasn’t far away.
“You need help?” her husky voice startled me. Faruhar stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
“Voids, you move fast,” I said. “And so quiet it’s creepy.”
“That almost wasn’t an insult,” she said, one eyebrow raised. “What do you need?”
I sighed, gesturing to the screen. “I think this is a dead end.”
She leaned over my shoulder, eyes roving. “Right,” she muttered, “Bria can ask around. Stay here.”
She strode out the doorway, and out into the rustling forest, closing the metal door behind her to leave me in the dim yellow room. I was not above listening at the door. Rising to my unsteady feet, I limped with quiet steps, placing my ear against cold steel.
The hollow ringing of the metal door, and the steady click of the solar generator—nothing else. I wondered if it was time to get back to my seat. Maybe this thing was so insulated I wouldn’t even hear her steps.
And voids, that creepy quiet mode of hers, I might not hear her with no door at all.
“You’re not being reasonable,” Faruhar said, angry, voice muffled through the door.
No response, at least none I could make out. Faruhar’s voice dropped lower, almost inaudible.
“I’d do it for you, without question,” Faruhar hissed again.
My heart thumped in my chest. When no angry voice responded, doubt sprouted in my mind. Was she … talking to herself? Or was her sister just quiet?
I was grateful Faruhar took angry steps back rather than creepy quiet ones. I tried to look bored, slouching on the wall when the metal door hissed open.
Faruhar slipped back in, her face unreadable. She strode with purpose toward the terminal.
“Are you able to get in?” I asked.
“Don’t talk, or this will fall right out of my brain.” She placed a hand on the keyboard, and I held my breath as her fingers tapped out a series of random characters.
The screen flickered, then the red security prompt vanished, replaced by a welcoming blue login. How in the dark void…
“There you go,” Faruhar said, her voice gruff. “Take your time. I have some things I need to do out there. Knock when you want to come out.” Before I could ask what that meant, she turned and headed back toward the door.
I delved into Asher’s profile, which was a lot more detailed than I expected. There was a link to show his medical records and past injuries, mods, who his parents were … his whole code sequence. I checked ‘known addresses’ and only saw our house in Nunbiren. Under Service History, I found he was slated to arrive at some forest outpost in central Noé. I zoomed in on a map, trying to memorize every detail of the terrain in the middle of the forest, along with the coordinates. Clicking away, I saw notes from commanders, a psychological assessment, and a log of his personal message. A cold sweat pricked my skin. The sheer volume of information was staggering, all meticulously documented by the empire.
