Stormblood, стр. 149
‘It’s okay,’ I lied, my throat tight as I held him closer. ‘You’re going to be okay. I’m here. I’m never leaving you again.’ As I drew him close I felt something beneath his underskin. I drew it out and held his pendant in my palm. The other half of what he’d given to me on the mountains all those years ago. ‘You kept it on all this time?’
Artyom nodded. Something deep in his chest cracked and shattered like a pane of glass, his face dissolving in tears as he broke. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Vak. For what I said to you. For how I treated you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m—’ He was shaking and sobbing so hard he couldn’t get the words out. He buried his face in my chest, all his sorrow and lies and regret gushing free. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I closed my eyes and crushed him in a hug. Holding him like I had when we’d learned Kasia had died and we only had each other.
Harmony would not let him escape without repercussion. He’d be arrested and tried as a member of the House of Suns, an active participant in their atrocities. I could let him escape. There was an escape pod outfitted with a warpdrive we could leave in together. Never return to Compass.
But we couldn’t run from this. I loved Artyom more than anything, but he would have to face the consequences of his actions. As would I. I was not going to run anymore. And neither would he. Because loving someone means you do what’s best for them, even when it hurts, even when it scars.
Because that’s what being his brother meant.
50
Sleeping at Last
No matter how many funerals you attend, no matter how many times you swear it’ll be the last, you know it never will be.
We gathered together in the dimly lit hangar bay. My body was still recovering from the bombardment of damage it had sustained, aches and pains rippling through my flesh like occasional speedbumps. Saren, Jasken and Katherine stood close by to stare down at the bodies of Kuen, Arya, and the other men and women who’d given their lives to protect others. We’d laid them down in their armour with their dog tags. Just like in the war. We bared silent witness as their bodies were encased in gel-padding and sealed up in little memorial pods, each of us carving our initials into the gunmetal hull. Didn’t matter that I’d barely known them. We’d fought together in battle, saved each other’s lives. Alcatraz taught me that’s a bond, a debt that transcends all other debts. One that can’t, and shouldn’t, ever be repaid.
Reapers crossed their arms over their chests in silent respect. I found myself doing the same. We stood watching as the pods were launched into the dark of space to be slowly swallowed up by the bright constellations of stars. For ever a part of the universe they’d given everything they had to protect. Gone, but never forgotten.
Around me, groups of soldiers of all ranks and Divisions were honouring their fallen, saying goodbye to friends and loved ones with their own little quiet rituals. There was a tally of the causalities, of course. But the stats don’t matter. Not when each death etches a little scar in your heart until you’re numb. By then, the losses feel innumerable.
Jasken stood watching for a while before briefly resting a heavy hand on my shoulder and then walking off. Saren gave me a solemn nod. I returned it. No one much spoke. We didn’t need to. We all knew it was up to us to honour the fallen, to make their courage and sacrifice count. To keep their memory, their fire, alive in our hearts. And to forgive ourselves for not saving them.
That was the part I was never going to figure out.
It ended the same way it had begun: in Kindosh’s office.
The place hadn’t changed much. Same view of the asteroid. Same coffee-stained desk carved from the same rugged black stone. Same chairs. Same printer. Only this time, Kindosh was somewhat pleased to see me.
‘If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t believe it,’ she was muttering as she sipped her espresso.
I gave her a thin smile. ‘Fortunate it was me, then.’ I’d shaved and combed my hair and wore a new suit of armour. It was a dull dark blue in colour, less battle-hardened and more for everyday use. I clutched the helmet between my hands as I sat.
‘I see,’ said Kindosh, desperate to plug the silence with some vapid response. ‘You and Cobalt Squad are to be congratulated. Admittedly, having Jae Myouk-soon alive and in cuffs would have been ideal, but we’re still salvaging data from their operational bases. We’ve seized control of their station, the one you were taken to in the asteroid field.’
‘Any survivors?’ I asked.
‘Not many. The ones who did are severely traumatised and in very poor condition. We’re still making arrests; anyone with known affiliation to the House of Suns is being brought in. The whereabouts of the Jackal and Sokolav remain unknown.’
I was startled. ‘Sokolav survived the explosion?’
‘Yes. We only found two bodies. There was a spacesuit suit and pair of grav-boots missing from the chainship’s armoury racks. He must have slipped back inside through a viewport. I know Sokolav. We’ll flush him out easily enough.’
Only, she didn’t. Not like I did. Nothing with him was easy or straightforward.
‘He survived,’ Katherine growled, ‘while almost fifty thousand Compass citizens died in that Surge.’
I laid a hand on her arm while Kindosh said, ‘Given the circumstances, that’s an astronomically low number.’
‘Tell that to the victims’ families,’ I said.
Kindosh looked unfazed. ‘Three times as many were injured. Someone was preparing to blow the whole Upper Markets to clear it of skinnies. We were fortunate.’ Kindosh looked as tired as I felt, but only for a second.