Page 43 of Red Demon
Mira snorted. “It means you should be dead. We’ve already tried pulling your sample three times, same result.”
I let out a shaky breath. “So it’s real, whatever it is.”
“Trust me, it can’t be. Asher? Back me up.”
Asher peeled his eyes away from her. “From what I’ve read, yeah. The database she connects to can translate code at any level: gene groups, interactions, modulators, even break it down to individual proteins. At some point, this is all Mira’s expertise,” he said with a blooming smile, “but even I understand you shouldn’t have lethal sequences in your code. One instance you might survive, not fifty-three.”
I picked up a vial of clear liquid and studied it. Mira snatched it from my hands and placed it back.
“Maybe the database is wrong?” I said.
“It’s not. The database is the system of record. All scientific labs can connect to the same one and much of these code sequences, like your lethal one, predates the empire. There’s been more than enough time to correct a human error.” She drummed her fingers. “I could model the sequence, but I’d need more equipment. And besides—I know it doesn’t interact with the SBO virus. The problem is, nothing in your code does.”
“Okay fine. Have you run any other samples besides mine and yours to see if your machine is just buggy?”
“No.” She placed the vial back, then met my brother’s gaze. “Ash, may I borrow your blood?”
“If I can be your dance partner again tomorrow, you may bleed me dry,” Asher said, eyes twinkling.
“That might interfere with future dancing,” she laughed, and gathered the supplies. “Or dinner tonight.”
“I won’t wear the century robe this time, I promise.”
“Yes please, even if I’ll admit you’re stunning in it,” Mira said.
“You think so?” Ash said, flustered.
Warm electric lights shone around the polished mahogany table, empty apart from arranged plates, glasses and silver. Soft flutes and string music trilled from the speakers embedded in the walls.
Governor Solonstrong was not a man of imposing stature, but he was a person who stood with his shoulder’s back as if he expected all eyes to be on him. His black hair was meticulously styled and glossy, and he kept the chin of his handsome brown face high. Mira sat next to him sipping some coffee, her fresh braid shimmering as she, no doubt, was still thinking through the issues at the lab. Next to her, Asher, stiff and uncomfortable in the best blue shirt he owned, fidgeted with his napkin.
“I’m grateful you’ve taken an interest in meeting my friends, Father,” Mira said. He’d been explaining the progress of his winery on the Island of Ment, where he hoped to retire one day. Asher and I had very little to contribute to that conversation.
“Of course. It’s important that I meet those who work closely with our elders,” he said, giving Asher a cursory glance before settling on me. “And to meet those who build such a high percentage of the North Barrack’s weapons. I know that both of you have been quite busy lately as the empire plans to reopen the Bend.”
“What?” I said.
Two servers walked in just then, their movements precise as they shifted silver platters from their trays onto the center of the table. They laid out a steaming bowl of saffron rice and thick brown noodles, colorful curries studded with vibrant vegetables, a roasted duck, and an assortment of flatbreads arranged in a pretty pattern. The scent of spices filled the air, a mix of Chaeten and Asri culinary influences far more exotic than the staples in our home above the forge. We didn’t have someone who’d walk around and fill our glasses with wine at home, either.
Asher leaned toward Mira and whispered, “Which ones are vegetarian?”
Governor Solonstrong answered for her. “Ah. There's duck fat in the noodles and the red curry, and best avoid the duck as well.”
Asher grimaced politely. “Thank you, Governor.”
When the governor passed me the duck, I passed it on to Mira, who paused, then set it back in the center after a glance to Ash. The governor frowned.
“You’d mentioned something about the South Bend reopening, Governor?” I asked.
Governor Solonstrong nodded as he sawed through a chunk of crispy meat. “The hope is to open up the Bend in two months: resettling it with a mix of refugees and fresh recruits from the inner empire. I understand Major Mahakal has extended an invitation for you to join his unit toward that purpose?”
It took me a moment to process that. The governor watched me over a glass of wine.
“Yes, Governor. I’m still thinking it over.”
“It would be quite an honor to work alongside a Ghost War veteran. I understand he wants you in his personal squad. Many would kill for such a post.”
I ladled some vegetable curry atop the rice on my plate with all eyes on me, deciding what to say.
