I retrieve my laptop and my wireless earbuds from the SenMachs. I know I am being watched, but they have no real idea what I can do, or more accurately what this computer can do, so I’m not all that worried.
“Doe,” I say in a hushed tone as I sit on the bed. “Quanti hoc possibile est in composito Faida?” As Levi did before we Rifted to this Earth, I decide that Latin is the best option. Have at it, you angel dicks, you can even watch me pee, but you don’t get to understand what I’m asking, namely, how many Faida there are in this base. Doe plays along, speaking in Latin as well, and tells me he can wirelessly connect to their computer files, but without direct access via the computer’s sentient component, the data may be incomplete. I instruct him to do his best with what he’s got and extrapolate if he has to.
“There are 388 Faida currently on this base. There are 622 not present but nearby.” I sigh and chew my bottom lip. This is both good and bad news. I like the numbers as allies, but if Navaa decides not to trust us, I don’t know how we’ll get past that many.
“Can you detect any Roones here?”
“Yes. There is one Roone present, although given this Roone’s location, I must conclude that he or she is being detained. The last Roone entries into the database are consistent with the rebellion Citadel Arif spoke of and I cannot detect their unique heat signatures.”
Well, I guess that’s good news, although prisoner or not, I’m not crazy about the idea that there’s an altered Roone here.
“Can you patch me through to Levi’s cuff?” I ask as I shuffle my butt around and give a little bounce. The bed is surprisingly soft. I didn’t think the Faida would care much about the comfort of their prisoners, but maybe they do.
“I can. Go ahead and speak,” Doe instructs me.
“Levi,” I say casually. All the evidence is pointing toward Arif’s account of what happened here and the current state of things being true. Navaa’s suspicions about us and the timing are not unwarranted. I don’t need to win her over exactly, but I can’t be acting like a spy. “Go get your earpiece and computer. Be casual about it.” I wait for a few seconds until I hear his voice.
“I’m here. I’m in some kind of a cell, but unharmed. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say softly in English, hoping they won’t understand it. “Listen, we need to use this time productively. Start learning the Faida language and ask Doe to download all files pertinent to the altered Roones, their experiments, and the rebellion. Once you learn the language you can begin to sift through it. I do believe Arif’s story, but better safe than sorry and the more intel we have, the better.”
“Copy that. I assume you’re going to begin to learn it as well?”
“I am, as a sign of good faith.”
There is a slight lag. “If that’s how you want to play it, okay. Besides, we either Rift out or let them call the shots, because we have zero advantage here.”
“Roger that. Let’s get to work.” Without my asking, Doe pulls up the Faida lexicon on the laptop. I don’t know how much time I have until someone begins to question us. I assume Arif is debriefing the rest of the Faida. I have to also assume he’ll want some alone time with his wife—will that come before or after they chat with us? No way to know.
I let my thoughts drift for just a moment, wondering about Arif having a wife. What would marriage even look like when you’re a Citadel? Well, it would probably look like what I’ve just seen with Arif and Navaa, spending the majority of your time thinking that your partner is either injured or dead. I’m not sure why anyone would sign up for that.
I spend the next four hours learning how to speak Faida. It is a fluid language with long pronounced O sounds and clipped S’s. I memorize the many different words the Faida have for flight. Heouine—flight during exceptional winds. Youshin—flight in the dark when the moon is full. Dawlbei—gliding flight on a wind from the Northeast. Kaisu—high-velocity flight. Theirs is a language that rarely uses metaphor or simile, presumably because there are so many different words to describe what English has only one or two for. While this makes it in some ways easier to learn than a language like ours—which can be deceptively confounding—its massive vocabulary pushes even my brain to the limit.
When I am finished, I close the laptop and lean back on the wall. I look up at the cathedral ceilings. I am sure that I could leap to one of the beams, which might give me some kind of advantage in a fight, but I need to be honest with myself about the situation we are in. If it does come down to a fight, I have already lost. On some level, I trusted the Faida enough to bring them here, to their turf. It’s a disturbing wake-up call to realize that I felt like this Earth was somehow safer than my own.
The large wooden door swings open and Navaa enters without asking. She doesn’t say anything, but she does place her delicate hands on the thick back of a chair and lift it so that she can sit down squarely in front of me.
“So you are a human Citadel. I must admit. You aren’t what I imagined.”
I glare at her, my eyes narrowing as I take her in. “I don’t know why. You’ve been to our Earth before. You’ve seen us already,” I answer her in Faida.
Navaa gives just the briefest shake of her head. “You can do that? You can learn our language in a matter of hours?”
“I can. Is that surprising? You know what we can do. What did you think us human Citadels were going to be like? Dumber? Moodier?”
Navaa folds her hands on her lap. Her fingers are so long and her nails so neatly trimmed and perfect, I’m not sure how she could possibly do much fighting with them. I look down at my own hands, which aren’t exactly ugly but are dry and nicked and calloused from punching and blocking and holding weapons.
“No,” Navaa answers. “I thought you would be outraged. You’re adolescents whose childhood was stolen. There is little doubt that you will die young. I assumed you would be angry. Instead you seem”—she tilts her head up and looks at the wall as if it was a window—“resigned.”
I lean forward on the bed, swinging my legs around. “That is true. In a way. Although I’m not necessarily resigned to dying young. I guess it’s more that I’ve accepted what’s been done to me because bitterness won’t serve me. It won’t help me figure out the truth, or what to do with the answers once I find them.”
“And you believe that we have the answers?” Navaa asks, even though I’m not sure it was a question exactly.
“I want to know what happened here. I want to learn from your mistakes because, clearly, despite your age and experience, you made several,” I tell her boldly.
Navaa raises a single, perfectly arched eyebrow. Her spine straightens. It’s clear she doesn’t want to relive any of it. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s pain, but her mouth sets in a firm, straight line.
I’m being combative and I don’t necessarily mean to be. I’m just feeling anxious. The Faida are so extra … everything. It worries me that they of all races find themselves in this position. I clear my throat and try a softer tone. “You don’t want to have to justify anything to me. I get it. I understand how distracting my face must be to you. You think I’m young. You don’t think I could possibly understand.” I lean closer toward her and grab the bottom of the bed so tightly the wood creaks. Navaa looks at me for a moment, then speaks.
“I won’t make the mistake of underestimating our enemies or the creatures of our enemies ever again. I don’t doubt your skill or your intelligence, but you are correct. I fear your youth makes it impossible for you to grasp the scope of what is happening here.”
“Well,” I say, chortling back to her nervously, “that’s just not true. I mean,