Defiant (The Skyward Series Book 4)
: Part 2 – Chapter 19

Hesho had arranged himself cross-legged on a little carpet mat. He didn’t acknowledge me as I opened the door. Instead, he carefully bowed to his teapot, then raised it and poured a single cup of tea about a quarter full. He bowed to it, then sipped it quietly until it was gone. Finished, he picked up his mask—white with red stripes, in the shape of a fox’s head—and affixed it back into place.

It had the air of ritual about it, so I hovered behind him, waiting until he spoke.

“It is a ceremony for the emperor,” he explained. “Every nanjan day. The head of the household pours, taking the emperor’s place. It is a representation of how everything flows from the emperor—all comfort, all needs, all life. I had never done it before from this position. I had poured for the heads of state, but the emperor does not drink, as he does not take from the people, only gives.” He paused. “I used to believe that.”

I settled down in the doorway as he turned around on his mat. As always, his voice was powerful and deep—a tremendous bass coming from something so small. Or maybe that was just my prejudice speaking. Why shouldn’t something small produce deep sounds?

“You are troubled,” he said to me.

“Am I ever not?” I said with a sigh.

“Wise,” he said. “As the ocean waves are disturbed by constant turmoil, so is the life of one who lives to the full.”

“I don’t think I’m so much like waves, Hesho,” I said, “as much as I am like a jug of something carbonated that’s shaken up and down repeatedly.”

He chuckled at that. “I enjoy the way you see the world, Spin. It makes me think that perhaps I should appreciate levity in more abundance.”

“Uh, same? Only in reverse?” I sighed, sitting down against the doorframe and ignoring the pair of pilots from another flight who walked by. They gave us odd glances, but I was used to those. “I’m not sure I can even figure out what I want to ask at the moment. Want to talk about your problems?”

“It would help to receive advice,” Hesho said. “You are growing more thoughtful, Spensa. This is an encouraging development.”

Uh, sure. Really, I just didn’t want to unload on him before I could process some more. But I would let him think I was becoming more mature.

“What does one do,” he said to me, “when one realizes that one is a…burden?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I selfishly miss my old life,” he said. “The instant obedience of everyone around me. The ability to control destiny and make decisions. And…I miss my friends. My wives, my family, my servants and colleagues. My cupbearer and my shieldbearer. My eldest daughter, who is a musician of the most blissful tones. I now have only recordings.”

Scud, he had a family? Families? It made sense, but sometimes it was hard to remember. I saw my friends mostly as soldiers—doing soldier things.

“Then go back to them,” I said. “You can still fly with me if you want, but you don’t have to guard my door at night, Hesho. I appreciate it, but I would be happier if you are happy.”

“Ah,” he said, tapping his mask. “But I have taken the mask, Spin. As I told you before, this is a promise. By wearing it, I indicate to everyone that I have banished Hesho. The emperor is no more.”

“Then keep the mask,” I said. “And go back to your wives.”

“I could do that, yes. And they’d probably accept me. But it would ruin too many things.” He reached into the pocket of his formal robes and took out a datapad. “The senate is working effectively for once—they threw off the Superiority while I was gone! They agreed to support this rebellion! They are debating among themselves, and strangely seem more unified now that they are no longer ruled. Plus, my children are grown and have positions of authority, most serving underneath my wives—who are far more powerful now that I’m gone. Each of the three has taken a consort.”

“Already? You were presumed dead for barely a few weeks!”

“Our unions were political,” he said, his paw resting on the screen in a way I thought was fond, “designed to unite factions on our planet. Without me, they can return to their own families triumphant, having served the greater needs of our people. I miss them all, but each is now the most politically important member of her clan. My children gain much through the respect paid to them because of my sacrifice. My survival would have been…inconvenient for everyone, had I not taken the mask.

“It is the same story everywhere I search. My people were ready to move on. They were ready for the emperor to vanish, but so long as I persisted, they could not. It is better for everyone that I remain isolated. Sometimes I wish I had not recovered my memories at all.”

“I’m sorry, Hesho,” I said softly. “That scudding sucks.” Then I winced. “Maybe…pretend I said something wise instead.”

“I cherish wisdom,” he said. “Yet today, empathy helps more. Thank you. It does ‘scudding suck.’ Like the dark of the moon, which can never show its face to the light, and never know the kiss of the dawn.”

“Yeah, just like that,” I said. “Or when you bruise your knuckles punching Jorgen in the knee. Sucks all around, because he didn’t actually deserve it, and now your hand hurts.”

“Or how the fish and the hawk can never be friends, despite having entirely different perspectives to share with one another.”

“Or like when you really need to scream at someone, but the only person you can replace is someone nice like Rig. So after yelling, you actually feel worse.”

“Or how every painting will eventually degrade, so that the universe is constantly losing its masterworks to inevitable decay.”

“Or like when you need to pee during maneuvers, but realize you forgot to hook up the flight suit catheter.”

Hesho chuckled. He seemed to think that one was a joke, but it really did suck. I assumed he didn’t know, because his ships were big enough—rather, the occupants were small enough—to contain full lavatory facilities.

“Thank you,” he said. “Smiling does help.”

“We could go to the firing range and blow some stuff up,” I offered, “if you want some real therapy.”

“Yes. Perhaps later? You seemed concerned earlier. Can I help you in turn?”

I knocked my head backward against the frame of the door, where I was still sitting, one foot up on the opposite side. “Yeah. That.”

“I’m sorry. Would you rather not be reminded?”

“No, I came out looking for advice,” I said. “Brade wants to duel me.”

“Ah. You two are like a pair of celestial bodies, drawn to conflict by forces you cannot control. I am not, therefore, surprised.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” I said to him. “I can beat her and remove her from Winzik’s arsenal.”

“As I have yet to meet a pilot who can best you in a fair fight, I’m inclined to agree with that assessment. Assuming we can be certain it’s not a trap.”

“Yeah. Any…idea how to do that?”

“Scout the area ahead of time,” he said. “Agree to both place an inhibitor slug before entering the region. Maybe even send in a decoy first.”

“Smart.”

“I’m simply adapting the actions taken by Jilo in the Epic of Jilo. But I appreciate your faith in me.”

“So we do those things,” I said. “Except…”

“Jorgen?” he guessed.

“Yeah. Jorgen. He’s going to say no. He’ll worry I’m risking myself needlessly, and a duel is totally against protocol—even though once a battle starts we’re basically just dueling each other anyway, so protocols are stupid. Wish I were an emperor.”

“Life is in many ways simpler when one is an absolute authority, capable of deciding whatever one wants. But there are huge drawbacks as well, Spin, to such a calling.”

“I suppose,” I said, closing my eyes. “Do you think…maybe…I’m like you? That everyone would be better off if I stayed away? If I flew off somewhere and never bothered them again? Then nobody would get hurt trying to keep up with me. I could just do what needed to be done—and Jorgen wouldn’t get into trouble, because I wouldn’t be under his command.”

Hesho didn’t reply.

“Hesho?” I asked, cracking an eye.

“I am thinking that I have burdened you with my own terrible thoughts,” he admitted. “That if I had not spoken of my isolation, you would not be thinking of adopting the same sensibility. That I should have remained isolated from you for your own good. That it would be for the best if I left…”

I rolled over and went down on my stomach, putting myself at eye level with Hesho. “No,” I said to him. “Please don’t be like that, Hesho. Not to me. I’m, like, an interdimensional monster or something. If one of us is bad for the other, it’s me.”

“Thus, we both persist in the same worry. Perhaps we are both wrong.”

“Agreed,” I said. “We stick together. You and me, at least. All right?” I held out my fist for a little fist bump.

He considered. “Fate declared that I should be your companion, and it was the path to my sanity,” he finally decided. “I accept your words.” He solemnly removed his mask, then reached up and tapped my fist with one of his claws.

“Good,” I said.

“So what do we do?” he asked, replacing his mask. “About Brade? Sneak off in the night like assassins?”

I wavered.

Scud, Jorgen would kill me.

And I’d deserve it. “No,” I said. “I’m going to go talk to Jorgen first and get permission.”

“Very well,” Hesho said. “I shall prepare tea for your return.”

“Prepare a bandage too,” I said, climbing to my feet. “I’m half-convinced he’s going to stab me for even daring to ask.”