Estranged

Vana (2)

“Aliyah?” Gringe beckoned.

She seemed jolted from a trance as she followed the call of her name. “What?” she asked.

“A guest,” he said, nodding at the approaching person.

“Oh,” she muttered, squinting in the direction where Gringe pointed. “I can’t really see anything yet, but if you say so…” she said with a shrug. “What is this place though? Do you know?”

“A beach, a strip of land that separated oceans and seas from inland in Old Earth,” Gringe replied.

“It’s beautiful. The old world must have been great.” Her face sobered. “Before they ruined it.”

They. The Founding Fathers and the rest of the Aristocrats inhabiting Level 1—descendants of the ultra-rich who once decimated the climate and plunged the old world into its fourth war. A war that had left them with this; three Levels that were all that was left of humanity, and all that was left for humanity to inhabit.

Gringe still couldn’t believe that he once worshipped the ground on which the Royal Family—the progeny of the Founding Fathers—trod, innocently mistaking them for saints and perpetrators of a higher calling. The naivety of his younger self disgusted him.

“Your face is taking on that look again.”

“Which look?” he replied.

“The one you get when you start thinking about the Royal family and your time in Level 1.”

Stranded for an answer, Gringe shifted his gaze to the side, finding that he recognized the person who was coming: a gangly, pale boy in a pastel shirt and shorts with a mohawk and an unsteady gait. ”Delayne.”

“Layney?” Aliyah strained at the nearing figure, hand held over her brows to shield her eyes against the sun.

He hadn’t expected it, but it made all the sense that Aliya knew Delayne. As with most of anyone of note in Level 3, she had ties to one of the Seven. But hers once ran deeper than most. At a time, she was almost something of a daughter to Jebba. However, around the moment Wilda Damij rose to the power she now wields, Aliyah ended up leaving Synthë Corp of her own volition. In many ways, her life and Gringe’s were very similar.

In two minutes, Delayne reached them, flashing a sharp grin. “Good to see you again, District Head,” he greeted.

“Hello, Delayne.”

The boy chuckled nervously, scratching behind his ear. “Never got to say thanks to you for saving my ass back then. Old Aunt Jebba can get real scary sometimes.”

“Did you return those people’s money?”

“Ah, look, I was only following orders. Left to me, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Did you return it?”

“Y-yes, I did…sir. On my life.”

Aliya couldn’t restrain herself any longer. “You stole from people, Layney?

Delayne waved at her with a meek smile, “Hiya, Liya.”

“Don’t Hiya, Liya me. Answer!”

“Germaine put me up to it. It was just orders. And I—“

***

They arrived at a grove of palm trees. A canopy with drapes of silk sat behind the first line of trees overlooking the sea, serving as a shelter for a woman. She reclined in a lounge seat, wearing a different coloured but similarly styled dress as Aliya’s, lowering the book she read at their nearing steps. “District Head Gringe,” Lady Synthë greeted. She faced Aliyah with a warm smile. “And Liya, how nice it is t—”

“Hear you’re raising Delayne into a thief these days.” Aliyah’s tone was like steel.

It was a rare thing for her to be this cold. The bone of contention seemed to be a familiar topic between her and Lady Synthë. Gringe was comfortable letting it play out.

Lady Synthë uncoiled her lithe legs, hardly taken aback by Aliyah’s rage. Pulling a stray wisp of auburn hair behind her ear, she asked, “Dear, what exactly do you think my line of business is? I help smuggle people into a higher level for a fee, help them achieve their dreams of attaining a better life, and then I rat them out to the Secret Service on the other side. They get caught and sent to jail. I offer protection and safety to communities in my territories. Protection against the others of the Seven. We create insecurity and then force the people to pay us to ‘defend’ against it. I exploit. I steal. It is what it means to be part of the Seven.”

“But you gave your word.”

“It was all a ruse anyway,” Lady Synthë groaned, rolling her eyes in a way that still managed to be graceful, “to see if your boss here is as righteous as they say. Layney was always going to return the money.”

Aliyah said nothing back, but it was obvious she wasn’t impressed by Lady Synthë’s justification.

The media tycoon sighed, “Fine. We’ll discuss it later.”

Aliyah conceded with a reluctant nod that made Gringe all the more curious about the extent of their relationship. But he was given no time to dwell on it.

Lady Synthë turned her attention on him—to business. “District Head.” She stretched her arms out wide, gesturing at the breadth of the ocean. “How do you like our new meeting place? A definite upgrade on the last time, no?”

“It’s a lot more secure. And I don’t get to deal with your grumpy guard again, so yes, I applaud you.”

“Oh, Germaine?” Lady Synthë grinned. “He is watching over my physical self in the real world as we speak. And he is grumpy, isn’t he?” At Gringe’s half-grin, she added, “Good to see you in high spirits too. I expected Wilda’s stunt to have rattled you somewhat.”

Gringe’s mind flashed back to five days ago: the thousand-strong army that had flooded the Ministry and, more crucially, Wilda Damij—de facto leader of the Seven—refusing to parley and practically inviting him to war. He shrugged. “As far as roughing-ups go, I’ve had worse. Which raises the question: has she communicated anything to you since?”