Volume 19: Oslov Unraveled
Chapter 13
Fatherhood
28 October, year 374, 4:06 a.m.
This was exactly what Tilrey had hoped for—a moment alone with Karishkov. Yet he stayed silent. Tremors of pain ran over him as Niko pulled his head back by the hair to look into his eyes. The change in his situation was so sudden, coming on top of the physical trauma, that he couldn’t gather his thoughts, let alone form them into words.Gersha spoke instead. “A deal, after this? Why should we give you anything, Niko? What could you possibly want from us?”His tone was so scathing, so steeped in high-name arrogance, that Tilrey almost smiled.“From you? Nothing,” Karishkov said, turning to address Gersha over his shoulder. His tone was matter-of-fact. “You lied about being the one in charge. I saw you look at him for permission.” He turned to Tilrey again. “You know what I want. Where’s my son?”When Tilrey didn’t answer or meet his gaze—it was hard to focus with one eye swollen shut—Karishkov gave his head a little shake. “Tell me! Where is Aleks?”Tilrey’s lips curved into a smile that he imagined was hideous. “You still care about Aleks after all this time, Niko?” Talking hurt, much like smiling, but he had to. “After he wrote you a letter asking you to let him go forever?”He braced himself for an explosion of rage. But Niko only released him and said, “Your rebellion is doomed, but you know where he is. Tell me, and I’ll make sure you both die in this cell without betraying your cause. At this point, that’s the most I can give you.”Tilrey heard Gersha’s sharp intake of breath. “You’ll kill us, and then what? Bomb every one of those bunkers? Hope you get the right one?”“I’m not sure what else we can do,” Karishkov said. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t tell our troops to stand down and negotiate with traitors. Only Atteivian has that power, and he won’t do it without an order from Davita.”“So you can’t stop the bombing.” Tilrey breathed shallowly, trying to keep the pain at a manageable level. How could Niko help them, then? It was a puzzle to solve, something he might have enjoyed on a normal day in the Sector. He was in no shape for logistical conundrums now.“I can delay it, maybe. That’s the best I can promise.” Niko glowered at him. “Better hurry up and tell me, because Atteivian could be back any minute—with his friends. When he said he’d take you apart, I don’t think it was a figure of speech. He’s no sadist, just very serious about protecting the Republic.”“We want to protect the Republic,” Tilrey said. “Differently.” “If you want to debate politics with him while he tortures you, be my guest. This is your last chance.”It was Gersha who said, at last, what Tilrey had meant to say. “If you don’t stop Atteivian from bombing those bunkers, you’ll never see Aleks again.”So he’d remembered everything they’d learned from Valgund, too. Thank you, my love, for thinking straight when I couldn’t. Tilrey raised his good eye to look at Niko, trying to make the gaze count.He said, “Aleks is in a bunker with the hacker of Redda. I’m happy to tell you which one. But if you let them bomb it, you’ll kill him, too.”Davita’s struggles must have exhausted her. Besha watched her go limp in Kai’s grip as they traversed the long tunnel that led to the Brothel’s basement.Two of the Brothel goons dragged Besha alongside his wife, arms pinned behind his back. It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t object. This way, he looked like a prisoner, too.Davita Lindblom had led a charmed life. Some would even say she’d been spoiled. A little discomfort wouldn’t hurt his wife, Besha thought, but he didn’t want to know how she would react to a second major betrayal in a single night.Once the whole family was safe in Harbour, and his wife had had plenty of time to process and accept Tilrey’s treachery, he would tell her he had been Einara’s tool all along. But there had to be a cushion. Too many rude shocks might shake Davita loose from him forever.When she was ready to resign herself to her new situation, she would need someone to turn to. Someone like him. And then she would find it in herself to forgive him, too.When Kai removed his hand from Davita’s mouth, she made no sound, her bloodless lips pressed together. Besha mouthed I’m sorry at her. Then Are you okay? She didn’t look at him.As they emerged into the ghostly fluorescence of the basement, the Magistrate turned to her captor. “I know you.” Her voice was hoarse from screaming, but her tone was calm—proof of the control Besha had always admired in her. “You’re the Painted Boy.”“I go by Kai these days, Fir’n,” Kai said, steering them toward the broad stairway that led up into the staff quarters.“He’s a stream maker now! The one who turned Stefan into the people’s idol!” Besha explained. With the whores’ hot breath on his neck and his wife refusing to acknowledge his presence, he found it easy to sound outraged. “They murdered Lindahl to start a rebellion, Davita. Now Blas is their hostage!”Davita acted like he hadn’t even spoken. “Do you still have the tattoo I gave you?” she asked Kai sweetly.“I still have all of them, Fir’n.”“I wondered.” She stumbled on a stair, and the stream maker held her upright. He looked almost concerned for his captive.They were halfway to the top, where a door opened into light. Besha rolled his eyes. He considered Kai a friend, but it was just like Davita to be politer to a whore she had whipped and fucked a few times than to her own husband.Or maybe she was trying to intimidate her captor. She continued to reminisce as they climbed: “I’ll never forget the look on your face when you were receiving my mark. Grimacing and squirming and yet at the same time almost… titillated. As if you were enjoying it more than you dared to admit.”If Davita was hoping Kai would snap at her, she was disappointed. A woman’s tall figure had appeared, silhouetted in the doorway ahead of them—Einara.Besha knew Kai’s attention was there, just like his. As they reached Einara, he couldn’t help feeling a queasy excitement about her first meeting with his wife.“Fir’n Magistrate. Welcome.” The Brothel director ushered Davita into her domain. Like Kai, she had a whore’s impeccable courtesy. “I apologize for the rough journey.”They stepped into the brightness of a stone-floored pantry, where Davita stood stock still, staring. “And you are…?”“The director of this establishment, at your service, Fir’n.” Einara wore a smuggled Harbourer robe that made her look regal, this one royal blue dotted with pearly beads like stars in the sky. Davita herself had a few similar ones, Besha noted.Einara turned to Besha—she wasn’t ignoring him, at least. “Where’s our token? Does she have it?”Besha squirmed as he remembered Blas’s severed fingertip in his tunic pocket. “She wouldn’t have come if I’d shown her.”Einara held out her hand, her expression unreadable. “Give it here. I don’t plan on reuniting those two until we’ve had a chat.”Besha didn’t like the tone Einara was taking with him, especially when she had so much less leverage over him now. So what if she told Davita he’d helped Malsha kill tens of thousands of Harbourers? In his wife’s mind, killing millions of Harbourers would be nothing compared to what he’d done over the past twenty-four hours.But he hoped to inform his wife of his treachery later, on his own terms, so he complied. He plucked the tiny packet from his tunic, not suppressing a shiver, and handed it over. “You people are animals!” he declared.Einara unrolled the packet and offered the stub of flesh to Davita. “This belongs to your son. The rest of him is safe—for now.”Davita gazed down at the grotesque trophy. Her voice was steady as she said, “I think I should have that.”“Of course, Fir’n.” Einara handed it over, then returned her attention to Besha. “What’s going on in the Council? How long do we have?”Besha didn’t like that we. “I’ve done what you made me do to save my son,” he complained, still playing his part. “I’m not telling you a single thing that might help you!”“Besha.” Einara held out her empty hand again. “You will tell me. First, though, I think it’s time you gave me that transceiver. Things are happening fast. I need to talk to Janta directly.”Besha had almost forgotten he had the direct line to Janta—the real one, not the piece of junk Bors had used to frighten the Council. Luckily, no one had thought to search him.“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped back, setting his jaw. “And I wish you’d address me with more respect!”Why was Einara acting so clueless? Of course he’d give her the transceiver and a full briefing, once Davita was out of earshot. But it was better to keep his wife in the dark right now—for his family, for Einara’s interests, for all of them.Einara said, “Besha, Tilrey’s come clean. It’s your turn.”Now, at last, Davita looked straight at her husband.Besha stood frozen, feeling an incongruous trickle of sweat down his neck. He couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes and see his wife giving him the same pitiless scrutiny she’d aimed at him the first time she put him in handcuffs.Einara said, “Besha?”“Fine. What the fuck!” Besha reached into the inner pocket of his coat for the transceiver. Placing it in Einara’s hand, he added sulkily, “It’s a long story, but I can explain everything, Davita. I promise you.”“You do always have an explanation, Besha,” Davita said. “That’s one thing I can rely on.”Besha writhed. They were all looking at him, but his wife’s gaze was the one that pressed air from his lungs. She didn’t even seem surprised.He could almost hear her thinking, I knew you would stop being useful to me one day.He was intensely relieved when Davita turned her gaze to Einara again. “Well, lead on. I suspect I’ll faint if you don’t allow me to sit down. And I’d like to see my son. I have a feeling he, at least, hasn’t been lying to me.”Karishkov took a step back from Tilrey. “Liar,” he said in a low rumble.“Are you willing to take that chance?” Gersha’s eyes glittered with anger, and once again Tilrey was grateful for his husband’s eloquence. “Your time is running out, Niko. Either trust us and stop that bombing, or accept that you’ll never see Aleks again.”“It’s a lie. It’s way too convenient to be true.” But Niko’s face had turned waxy. “Did you put him there on purpose? As a hostage? Why not tell me earlier?”“No one ‘puts’ Aleks Snowblind anywhere. You know that.” Tilrey’s voice trembled with his body, racked with cold and pain, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was clarity. “I don’t control everything. A lot of this was unplanned.” No point in pretending otherwise, not now. “But Aleks is there, with his boyfriend—Lasha—and a few others. They’ll protect the hacker with their lives. You want proof? Ask Bors Dartán. He brought Aleks to the bunker himself. The two of them are friends.”“Bors is a damned traitor. I never knew he had it in him.” But Karishkov clearly didn’t care about Bors. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If Aleks is helping the hacker, then he deserves to die with him,” he said after a moment in his old severe way.“You don’t believe that!” Gersha cried.Tilrey just kept looking at Niko. “Remember the first time you thought you’d lost Aleks, when I brought you his message? You told me how much he still means to you. How he and his mother still feel to you like your real family.”Niko opened his mouth as if to protest, but nothing came out. His lips twisted into an ugly grimace. “The most I can do is delay things. You and your rebels made this mess, Tilrey. Sooner or later, every one of those bunkers will be bombed—unless you tell your hacker to surrender.”He isn’t mine, and I can’t tell him anything. But Tilrey knew those were inessential details to Niko. He didn’t care about the revolution and what it might or might not accomplish. All he felt was the icy terror of losing his son.“I understand.” Tilrey spoke quietly, not releasing the man’s gaze. “When my son was born, Niko, I didn’t want him at first. He reminded me of… painful parts of my past. But now?” He drew a breath that scoured his airway. “I would lay down my life for Ceill. I know you feel the same about Aleks—about all your children. If you help us, if you help him, I swear to watch over your family in Redda.”Niko chuckled harshly, without a smile. “You’re talking to me as if you were sitting at the head of the Council table and ruling Oslov, not naked and chained in a cell.”“He might be at the head of that table soon, Niko,” Gersha said. “And when he is, I promise you he won’t retaliate against your family—or any Upstarts. That’s not the point.”“You’re very confident.” But there was a new spark in Niko’s eyes, as if he’d made a decision. “It looks like your rebel friends are poised to try to take the Sector. We’ll see how that goes for them. Meanwhile, tell me which bunker my son is in. I’ll do something about it.”
28 October, year 374, 4:06 a.m.
This was exactly what Tilrey had hoped for—a moment alone with Karishkov. Yet he stayed silent. Tremors of pain ran over him as Niko pulled his head back by the hair to look into his eyes. The change in his situation was so sudden, coming on top of the physical trauma, that he couldn’t gather his thoughts, let alone form them into words.
Gersha spoke instead. “A deal, after this? Why should we give you anything, Niko? What could you possibly want from us?”
His tone was so scathing, so steeped in high-name arrogance, that Tilrey almost smiled.
“From you? Nothing,” Karishkov said, turning to address Gersha over his shoulder. His tone was matter-of-fact. “You lied about being the one in charge. I saw you look at him for permission.” He turned to Tilrey again. “You know what I want. Where’s my son?”
When Tilrey didn’t answer or meet his gaze—it was hard to focus with one eye swollen shut—Karishkov gave his head a little shake. “Tell me! Where is Aleks?”
Tilrey’s lips curved into a smile that he imagined was hideous. “You still care about Aleks after all this time, Niko?” Talking hurt, much like smiling, but he had to. “After he wrote you a letter asking you to let him go forever?”
He braced himself for an explosion of rage. But Niko only released him and said, “Your rebellion is doomed, but you know where he is. Tell me, and I’ll make sure you both die in this cell without betraying your cause. At this point, that’s the most I can give you.”
Tilrey heard Gersha’s sharp intake of breath. “You’ll kill us, and then what? Bomb every one of those bunkers? Hope you get the right one?”
“I’m not sure what else we can do,” Karishkov said. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t tell our troops to stand down and negotiate with traitors. Only Atteivian has that power, and he won’t do it without an order from Davita.”
“So you can’t stop the bombing.” Tilrey breathed shallowly, trying to keep the pain at a manageable level. How could Niko help them, then? It was a puzzle to solve, something he might have enjoyed on a normal day in the Sector. He was in no shape for logistical conundrums now.
“I can delay it, maybe. That’s the best I can promise.” Niko glowered at him. “Better hurry up and tell me, because Atteivian could be back any minute—with his friends. When he said he’d take you apart, I don’t think it was a figure of speech. He’s no sadist, just very serious about protecting the Republic.”
“We want to protect the Republic,” Tilrey said. “Differently.”
“If you want to debate politics with him while he tortures you, be my guest. This is your last chance.”
It was Gersha who said, at last, what Tilrey had meant to say. “If you don’t stop Atteivian from bombing those bunkers, you’ll never see Aleks again.”
So he’d remembered everything they’d learned from Valgund, too. Thank you, my love, for thinking straight when I couldn’t. Tilrey raised his good eye to look at Niko, trying to make the gaze count.
He said, “Aleks is in a bunker with the hacker of Redda. I’m happy to tell you which one. But if you let them bomb it, you’ll kill him, too.”
Davita’s struggles must have exhausted her. Besha watched her go limp in Kai’s grip as they traversed the long tunnel that led to the Brothel’s basement.
Two of the Brothel goons dragged Besha alongside his wife, arms pinned behind his back. It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t object. This way, he looked like a prisoner, too.
Davita Lindblom had led a charmed life. Some would even say she’d been spoiled. A little discomfort wouldn’t hurt his wife, Besha thought, but he didn’t want to know how she would react to a second major betrayal in a single night.
Once the whole family was safe in Harbour, and his wife had had plenty of time to process and accept Tilrey’s treachery, he would tell her he had been Einara’s tool all along. But there had to be a cushion. Too many rude shocks might shake Davita loose from him forever.
When she was ready to resign herself to her new situation, she would need someone to turn to. Someone like him. And then she would find it in herself to forgive him, too.
When Kai removed his hand from Davita’s mouth, she made no sound, her bloodless lips pressed together. Besha mouthed I’m sorry at her. Then Are you okay? She didn’t look at him.
As they emerged into the ghostly fluorescence of the basement, the Magistrate turned to her captor. “I know you.” Her voice was hoarse from screaming, but her tone was calm—proof of the control Besha had always admired in her. “You’re the Painted Boy.”
“I go by Kai these days, Fir’n,” Kai said, steering them toward the broad stairway that led up into the staff quarters.
“He’s a stream maker now! The one who turned Stefan into the people’s idol!” Besha explained. With the whores’ hot breath on his neck and his wife refusing to acknowledge his presence, he found it easy to sound outraged. “They murdered Lindahl to start a rebellion, Davita. Now Blas is their hostage!”
Davita acted like he hadn’t even spoken. “Do you still have the tattoo I gave you?” she asked Kai sweetly.
“I still have all of them, Fir’n.”
“I wondered.” She stumbled on a stair, and the stream maker held her upright. He looked almost concerned for his captive.
They were halfway to the top, where a door opened into light. Besha rolled his eyes. He considered Kai a friend, but it was just like Davita to be politer to a whore she had whipped and fucked a few times than to her own husband.
Or maybe she was trying to intimidate her captor. She continued to reminisce as they climbed: “I’ll never forget the look on your face when you were receiving my mark. Grimacing and squirming and yet at the same time almost… titillated. As if you were enjoying it more than you dared to admit.”
If Davita was hoping Kai would snap at her, she was disappointed. A woman’s tall figure had appeared, silhouetted in the doorway ahead of them—Einara.
Besha knew Kai’s attention was there, just like his. As they reached Einara, he couldn’t help feeling a queasy excitement about her first meeting with his wife.
“Fir’n Magistrate. Welcome.” The Brothel director ushered Davita into her domain. Like Kai, she had a whore’s impeccable courtesy. “I apologize for the rough journey.”
They stepped into the brightness of a stone-floored pantry, where Davita stood stock still, staring. “And you are…?”
“The director of this establishment, at your service, Fir’n.” Einara wore a smuggled Harbourer robe that made her look regal, this one royal blue dotted with pearly beads like stars in the sky. Davita herself had a few similar ones, Besha noted.
Einara turned to Besha—she wasn’t ignoring him, at least. “Where’s our token? Does she have it?”
Besha squirmed as he remembered Blas’s severed fingertip in his tunic pocket. “She wouldn’t have come if I’d shown her.”
Einara held out her hand, her expression unreadable. “Give it here. I don’t plan on reuniting those two until we’ve had a chat.”
Besha didn’t like the tone Einara was taking with him, especially when she had so much less leverage over him now. So what if she told Davita he’d helped Malsha kill tens of thousands of Harbourers? In his wife’s mind, killing millions of Harbourers would be nothing compared to what he’d done over the past twenty-four hours.
But he hoped to inform his wife of his treachery later, on his own terms, so he complied. He plucked the tiny packet from his tunic, not suppressing a shiver, and handed it over. “You people are animals!” he declared.
Einara unrolled the packet and offered the stub of flesh to Davita. “This belongs to your son. The rest of him is safe—for now.”
Davita gazed down at the grotesque trophy. Her voice was steady as she said, “I think I should have that.”
“Of course, Fir’n.” Einara handed it over, then returned her attention to Besha. “What’s going on in the Council? How long do we have?”
Besha didn’t like that we. “I’ve done what you made me do to save my son,” he complained, still playing his part. “I’m not telling you a single thing that might help you!”
“Besha.” Einara held out her empty hand again. “You will tell me. First, though, I think it’s time you gave me that transceiver. Things are happening fast. I need to talk to Janta directly.”
Besha had almost forgotten he had the direct line to Janta—the real one, not the piece of junk Bors had used to frighten the Council. Luckily, no one had thought to search him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped back, setting his jaw. “And I wish you’d address me with more respect!”
Why was Einara acting so clueless? Of course he’d give her the transceiver and a full briefing, once Davita was out of earshot. But it was better to keep his wife in the dark right now—for his family, for Einara’s interests, for all of them.
Einara said, “Besha, Tilrey’s come clean. It’s your turn.”
Now, at last, Davita looked straight at her husband.
Besha stood frozen, feeling an incongruous trickle of sweat down his neck. He couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes and see his wife giving him the same pitiless scrutiny she’d aimed at him the first time she put him in handcuffs.
Einara said, “Besha?”
“Fine. What the fuck!” Besha reached into the inner pocket of his coat for the transceiver. Placing it in Einara’s hand, he added sulkily, “It’s a long story, but I can explain everything, Davita. I promise you.”
“You do always have an explanation, Besha,” Davita said. “That’s one thing I can rely on.”
Besha writhed. They were all looking at him, but his wife’s gaze was the one that pressed air from his lungs. She didn’t even seem surprised.
He could almost hear her thinking, I knew you would stop being useful to me one day.
He was intensely relieved when Davita turned her gaze to Einara again. “Well, lead on. I suspect I’ll faint if you don’t allow me to sit down. And I’d like to see my son. I have a feeling he, at least, hasn’t been lying to me.”
Karishkov took a step back from Tilrey. “Liar,” he said in a low rumble.
“Are you willing to take that chance?” Gersha’s eyes glittered with anger, and once again Tilrey was grateful for his husband’s eloquence. “Your time is running out, Niko. Either trust us and stop that bombing, or accept that you’ll never see Aleks again.”
“It’s a lie. It’s way too convenient to be true.” But Niko’s face had turned waxy. “Did you put him there on purpose? As a hostage? Why not tell me earlier?”
“No one ‘puts’ Aleks Snowblind anywhere. You know that.” Tilrey’s voice trembled with his body, racked with cold and pain, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was clarity. “I don’t control everything. A lot of this was unplanned.” No point in pretending otherwise, not now. “But Aleks is there, with his boyfriend—Lasha—and a few others. They’ll protect the hacker with their lives. You want proof? Ask Bors Dartán. He brought Aleks to the bunker himself. The two of them are friends.”
“Bors is a damned traitor. I never knew he had it in him.” But Karishkov clearly didn’t care about Bors. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If Aleks is helping the hacker, then he deserves to die with him,” he said after a moment in his old severe way.
“You don’t believe that!” Gersha cried.
Tilrey just kept looking at Niko. “Remember the first time you thought you’d lost Aleks, when I brought you his message? You told me how much he still means to you. How he and his mother still feel to you like your real family.”
Niko opened his mouth as if to protest, but nothing came out. His lips twisted into an ugly grimace. “The most I can do is delay things. You and your rebels made this mess, Tilrey. Sooner or later, every one of those bunkers will be bombed—unless you tell your hacker to surrender.”
He isn’t mine, and I can’t tell him anything. But Tilrey knew those were inessential details to Niko. He didn’t care about the revolution and what it might or might not accomplish. All he felt was the icy terror of losing his son.
“I understand.” Tilrey spoke quietly, not releasing the man’s gaze. “When my son was born, Niko, I didn’t want him at first. He reminded me of… painful parts of my past. But now?” He drew a breath that scoured his airway. “I would lay down my life for Ceill. I know you feel the same about Aleks—about all your children. If you help us, if you help him, I swear to watch over your family in Redda.”
Niko chuckled harshly, without a smile. “You’re talking to me as if you were sitting at the head of the Council table and ruling Oslov, not naked and chained in a cell.”
“He might be at the head of that table soon, Niko,” Gersha said. “And when he is, I promise you he won’t retaliate against your family—or any Upstarts. That’s not the point.”
“You’re very confident.” But there was a new spark in Niko’s eyes, as if he’d made a decision. “It looks like your rebel friends are poised to try to take the Sector. We’ll see how that goes for them. Meanwhile, tell me which bunker my son is in. I’ll do something about it.”