Preview of Chapter 51
---
Book 1 — Chapter 51
Published Spring 2026
Day: Hynjia
Date: 37
Month: Nokaokarium
Quarturn: 1618
Location: The city of Loeesuvu
“Wake me when we get there, please,” Miles spoke in a drained voice. “I don’t want to miss the remote coupling.”
Ash took her eyes off Miles — who was sitting in the rear seating area of the highly modified DTV — and looked toward O’cerne, who grinned broadly and assured Miles.
“I don’t think I’ll need to. It’ll make a nasty din that can wake the dead.”
“Given my current status,” Miles breathed out with a light groan, “‘waking the dead’ is applicable.”
She felt the smile come to her with Miles’ poke at himself. A jest that pulled a chuckle from O’cerne, who continued maneuvering through the streets of Loeesuvu.
Though her mind quickly found a concern. For while Miles had shown a great deal of improvement and healing of his injuries through the induction of the generic HEAL, she observed the side effects had taken a particular hold. Most noticeably, the lethargy. She wondered if he shouldn’t have been under more careful monitoring.
But almost as soon as the thought presented itself, so did the denial of this as the source.
She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath — both to calm and fuel her mind’s evaluation of her emotional state.
Her thoughts quickly drew her to the core conditions she was feeling. Including alarm. Though in her examinations, the cautions that moved through her didn’t have a notable cause. She was safe and heading home. Yet, they remained — as if she were perceiving a far-off storm, dark and foreboding, slowly spreading out across her sky and threatening her.
However, the analogy she had imagined didn’t have the opportunity to take hold; O’cerne caught her attention as he — with a tone of encouragement — made a recommendation to Miles.
“We have a stop-and-go drive that will take a short while. Have a power nap.”
Miles didn’t respond; his audibly rhythmic breathing indicated he was already fast asleep.
She again felt a grin pull at the corner of her lips, thinking of the sweetness of Miles dreaming away.
A sigh touched her lips as she turned her attention out of the side window — and out into the city of Loeesuvu.
It wasn’t a large city, from what she could discern. Regardless, it was spacious and charming. Though there was a visible farrago of buildings; as the city didn’t appear to have any noticeable zoning. Homes next to businesses, next to schools, next to government facilities — creating a mismatch of sizes and contrasting façades. All of it clean, kept, and certainly not detracting from its appeal.
She released another vocal sigh as the environment brought something to mind. A question she asked in a low voice, in an attempt not to rouse Miles.
“This is a very pretty city. I’m surprised more people from Minu don’t migrate down here. Does Saettee have a population cap?”
“No. Last time I read, they were trying to bring more people in,” O’cerne responded with a pleasant, but less reserved, volume.
He lowered his pitch as he elucidated further.
“No. I believe the reason people from the south of Minu don’t migrate here is that they are just too poor to do it. In my experience, mobility — in the economic sense — isn’t just upwards or downwards; it’s also lateral. Keep people poor enough, and they can’t move laterally. Can’t escape their situation, their physical circumstances. Convinced it’s done by design. They keep them poor, and in turn, it becomes a form of slavery. Even more so when you look at how Minu keeps pushing more and more legislation that criminalizes poverty. It puts people into the legal system, which helps fund the system that created it all in the first place.”
Her head nodded emphatically as she released a wordless sound of agreement, which prompted her to expound on her adjacent thoughts.
“It’s interesting you mention the criminalization facet. My mama is a trolley driver. Just the other day, she was telling me how there are people who, on bitter days, will ride the entire shift. As long as they pay the fare and don’t cause trouble, she doesn’t bother them. These people are so impoverished, they need a warm and safe place to exist where they won’t get harassed — if only for a little while. It’s not technically against policy, but Minu is trying to change that. Says it’s profit protection for the companies because … I don’t know … it cuts down on space for other paid commuters or it expends more energy, cost ratio … whatever stupid reasoning they’re pulling out of their ass.”
“Yeah,” O’cerne scoffed. “Protection for the companies, without acknowledging the cause behind why people do that. The lack of safety nets.”
She watched as O’cerne shook his head and spoke in a mocking and impersonating voice.
“Oh, but safety nets will make people lazy, they cry.”
His head again shook in disgust as his matching voice continued.
“But what they really fear is they know that safety nets will allow people to be free. And they can’t have that.”
“You speak with a lot of passion about this topic. I appreciate that,” she offered with sincerity.
“Not to boast, but I’m not myopic about it,” O’cerne clarified. “I well understand not everyone in poverty is wholly blameless. I have worked at a couple transition shelters we have here. Sometimes, people with shit intentions and some serious failings bring drugs, problems, and violence in with them. But in my experience, they are the few. Just make enough noise to drown the others out, unfortunately. But overall, I know the score. Plus, Porter is a good influence on me in that respect. I wholly agree with him that lack of worker protection and safety nets keeps the exploitation economy churning.”
As he navigated around a circular intersection, he let out a gentle hum of concentration, then continued his thoughts.
“I will admit, I carry some personal intensity concerning it. It sends me reeling when I think how weak you have to be to kick people around when they don’t have the resources to kick back.”
She studied the side of his face, watching his mouth purse with the thoughts that were moving through his mind. She felt a gentle smile move to her lips as she breathed out a subdued chuckle, and she commented.
“I agree with your general statement. Though your expressions tell me this isn’t only based on a broad observation.”
“It’s not,” he confirmed. “One of the most enraging moments of my life, which turned into one of the saddest, was when my Civil Security partner and I came across a man who crossed the border. We could tell he was in distress. When we approached him, he had the most extreme outbursts of fear I’ve ever seen. He sobbed, fell to his knees, then prostrated himself before us and begged us not to beat him. It took a while for us to calm him, but when we did, he explained he had just been beaten by HEAGEN. He was an older man, and to see him sob and beg literally made my mouth water, like I was going to vomit. You know that sensation?”
She was keenly aware of the process by which the mouth seemed to lubricate itself prior to vomiting. But it wasn’t just from illness, she too had felt that sensation when being met with the horrors that she had been introduced to since her return to Melchior.
Though, as the question remained unanswered, she moved around the current dryness of her mouth, and she responded with a soft, but slightly cracked, “I do.”
He nodded to her response and continued.
“We ended up taking him to hospital. He had a broken wrist, a couple of cracked ribs, and internal bleeding. Those shits at HEAGEN beat him for being homeless. He said he couldn’t take it anymore and walked out of Melchior all the way to Saettee. He left his employment, his friends, because of the sub-animals that are HEAGEN and the sub-animals that run Minu that made it a life-or-death choice for him to stay.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Obviously from your language, you have some serious indignation towards HEAGEN.”
“Just the sight of HEAGEN causes an adrenaline rush that moves my hand to my weapons. I loathe those monsters.”
“I can wholly empathize with that,” she admitted in a soft voice.
But her mind was roiling. The considerations and deliberations of the ‘why’ were coming forth chaotically. It prompted her to let out a vocal breath of frustration as she allowed her thoughts to come forth.
“I was shielded from this. Of course, I was cognizant of my and my family’s situation, but my parents got me out the only way they knew how. I think, in a way, they would’ve been happy for me to have never returned. Not because they didn’t miss or love me. Quite the opposite. They were less worried about me far away in Michi than down the road in Melchior. Especially with HEAGEN around. But what gets me is, I don’t understand what the endgame for them is. The whole of what is happening in Minu. What’s the point of keeping people so destitute? What is it that they, the powers that be, want?”
“My unfiltered opinion, along with my objective knowledge,” O’cerne asked in a questioning pitch, one not requiring a response. “Two reasons. One: they want you to die. It’s simply passive eugenics. Poverty enervates people to an extreme. Mind, body, and soul. And when it does, it’s a way to thin out the herd. Two: for those that are strong enough to survive, they want your labor. Your nameless, faceless, obedient labor. Minu has declared war on you as citizens. And I’m happy to see some of you, like yourself, are declaring war in return.”
She swallowed the knot that had formed in her throat. Formed from the instant realization that O’cerne was most likely right. The power class wanted her either dead or abjectly subservient. It was a horror of indifference and rapacity that struck her tongue as she tried to speak with a crack in her voice.
“I don’t know if what we did would be considered war. I … I’m not dismissing what we did, but I doubt we’re going to change the world. Make it slightly more tolerable, yes. But …”
She couldn’t finish her words; the consternation from O’cerne’s remarks were striking her hard, and weakening her voice.
It was something that seemed to be apparent; as he spoke, O’cerne cleared his throat and raised the pitch of his intonation.
“I think that’s enough shop talk for now. As you and I are most likely destined to be in one another’s lives via Porter, Wayra, and … others, I think we should get to know each other better. So tell me, Ash. What are some things that will get me on your bad side?”
She released a laugh as the jarring shift in topic and tone was welcome. Another laugh came forward as she considered his question and, coming to an honest conclusion, responded.
“Lies. Inauthenticity. Disingenuousness. All that deceptive shit. I’m sick to death of all of it. It’s far too pervasive in the world, and it instantly burns my cheeks. Though I’m not unfair. I do make allowances for omissions, as there are oftentimes very good reasons for excluding information. Just don’t make a habit of it.”
She glanced at O’cerne, who chuckled and nodded with understanding.
“How about you?” she asked.
“I’m going to admit, I’m not as allergic to lies as you are. But I will keep your preferences in mind when engaging you,” he replied with a chuckle. “As to what will get people on my bad side … eh … aside from anything HEAGEN-related, I honestly don’t know. I wouldn’t say I’m a pushover, but I do lean towards the tolerant in most things. Though — and I know I’m not unique in this — but very protective of my family and friends. Bring them grief, and I will return the favor ten times over.”
“I utterly concur!” she stated with a raised voice. “I’m provoked when someone I care about is tampered with.”
“Can tell by your voice that’s a firm threshold I won’t be pressing,” O’cerne chuckled as he observed before asking in a teasing manner. “But theoretically, if I were to inadvertently provoke you, or better — again theoretically — if I were aiming to cordialise myself to you, what would I need to do to build such rapport?”
Her laugh released with a great deal more sound than she was intending, as she was enjoying his brand of humor.
She quickly glanced over her shoulder to make certain she had not awakened Miles with her noise. Seeing he hadn’t stirred, she returned her focus to O’cerne and answered in a direct pitch.
“Feed me.”
More To Come