Four years ago …

As I opened the door to my room, my senses were assaulted by perfume and the pleasant smell of ozone and freshly turned earth that always followed a thunderstorm. I could feel a gentle breeze caress my face and I heard the rhythmic thumping of an open shutter swaying in the wind. The curtains billowed and swelled like blue sails as gusts of wind blew through an open window.

“Shit, Liv,” I said. “Can you close that window?”

“Oh … Sorry,”

She reached out and pulled the two halves of the window closed. As the wooden frame clicked shut the howls of the wind died down to a quiet whimper.

“I should have texted first,” she said, plopping down on my dry formerly dry sheets, “but I just needed to see you. I hope it’s okay?”

Her nose scrunched up as she pulled her lips into a tight smile. I gave up on trying to pretend I was angry. Her effortless cuteness was like a reset button for my nerves. It was like a superpower she’d had since we were kids.

“Of course,” I said “though you know you can use the front door? You’re more welcome at my house than I am.” I stared at her for a few moments – my eyes lingered on the pink dress that clung to the gentle curves of her hips. “Uh, you’re soaking wet. Just wait here, I’ll get you a towel.”

I gave her a smile as I walked towards the closed door of my bathroom. I opened it while making sure to keep the door angled so she couldn’t see the mess inside.

“Here.” I tossed her a white, folded towel and closed the door with a gentle click.

As she caught the towel she smiled, tracing the gold embroidery with her finger. I tried to hide my embarrassment, ignoring the fact that she had clearly seen my initials, AFF, sewn into the towel in flowery script.

“That was a gift from the parentals,” I said. “Haven’t even used it yet so it should be clean.”

I rubbed the back of my head with one hand and looked down at my feet. When I looked back up at Liv she had stood back up and was looking out the window, watching the retreating storm clouds.

She held the towel down at her side. It hung loosely, still unused and partly folded.

“So… where’s Troy?” I asked “He’s been avoiding me all week. You have been, too. I miss you guys.”

“Troy hasn’t been avoiding you, Gus. He’s just been working through some stuff, is all. Me too.” Her voice trailed off at the end, and for a moment I could detect sadness in her eyes.

“What kinda —”

“I’m pregnant.”

“That’s…” I started. I just stood there like an idiot for a few moments. “Why are you telling me this? I mean we’re only juniors, for Cris… Are you going to finish the school year? Does Troy know?”

“Yeah, I told him when I found out last week,” she said. “He knows it’s his and he asked me to marry him.”

She turned and stared at me with unblinking eyes. I could see her determination from the way she protruded her jaw slightly, something she always did when trying to look serious.

“Are you sure it’s? I mean, how far… how many weeks?”

“That’s not important, Gus. Just promise me you’ll leave it alone, okay? I love you both … but it’s his baby, okay?”

“Alright, Liv...”

I regretted the words instantly. I screamed internally as I raged at myself to take them back. I didn’t want it to be okay, but I refused to come between my two best friends. They'd been together since almost the beginning, as I quietly carried my torch.

“Just tell me one thing,” I said, trying to hide the quiver in my voice.

She glanced up, and we locked eyes for a few moments. I burned the image of her face into my memory. Her blue eyes were framed by lines of running mascara and golden curls that threatened to consume her face at any moment. Her mouth was drawn tight and her red lips were slightly puckered.

“I love you, Liv,” I said. She started to say something, but I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder. “You’re my best friend. You both are.”

I removed my hand from her shoulder and placed it over her clenched fist, drawing it up to my chest. I could feel her hand shaking, but her face kept the same calm look of determination.

“I’ll always be here for you and Troy. The baby too.”

***

“I was expecting your father.”

The blue-scaled alien looked down at me and blinked. The slowness of the action is what made it so strange. Multiple translucent membranes rotated inward like the iris of a camera as her two main eyelids slowly drifted closed. As her eyes opened the thin membranes of her inner eyelids slowly unfolded.

“Captain Xern told you?” she asked. “He’s generally more … circumspect.”

“Not in so many words, but I figured it out. He seems proud, Catayla, I mean you did manage to set a trap for the notorious Augustus Finn. You’re the first girl to succeed, though many have failed. I think that deserves a pat on the back.”

“I’ve enjoyed your entirely inappropriate quips, Finn,” she said. “My mother once told me the best way to judge a warrior was by how she responded to loss, and you’ve lost as much as anyone. That’s not why you wanted to talk though, is it?”

“Lost as much…” I shrugged. “I’m not sure how to take that, so I’ll just call it a compliment.”

“Why are we here, Finn? I didn’t get the feeling that you were too interested in social calls during our last conversation.”

“I want to see Troy Swanson.”

“Who’s …”

“You took a photo and some kind of device off a captured cultist,” I said. “Your dearest dad made it seem like you had captured the woman in the picture, but I know that isn’t true.”

Catayla began to talk, but I raised a hand and asked her to wait. It had been a week since she had last come to see me, and despite my anger, I was enjoying the company and was in no rush to end it. It certainly beats talking to shadows and smoke. Or myself.

“How long has it been since you last came to see me?”

“Six days, Finn. Twelve since you were first taken into custody.”

“Not even two weeks …”

I had been experiencing two sets of sensory inputs since reestablishing my connection to the Fisher; combined with long stretches of time spent in meditation and the windowless cell, I had lost all concept of time’s passing.

“Look, I’ve enjoyed your hospitality. It's been grand, though a book or two wouldn't have hurt ... but, I also know the pillar of light is growing stronger, and that you’ve fended off attacks at least three times while you’ve been keeping me here to rot. I want to help.”

Catayla’s eyes narrowed and she bared her small, sharp teeth in an expression I had come to associate with a frown or grimace. The Peacekeepers, or Kree as their species was called, were hard to read at first, but once you learned to look for the subtle changes they were no more complicated than humans.

I waited before continuing. I had played through this conversation in my mind many times, and I experienced a strange sense of déjà vu when I finally spoke the words aloud. Catayla seemed in no rush to continue the conversation either. She merely sat across from me, watching me with unreadable eyes and a cold empty expression.

“The attacks are growing worse, aren’t they?”

“How?” she asked, her cool finally broken.

“Never mind, I am aware of your ‘Dark Gemini’, but that’s impossible. You’ve been Censored, and your class sealed.”

“Not all power is external, Catayla. This is all me, no assembly required. That’s not why we are here, though. I can get to Liv, and I can stop her, or whoever is controlling her. At the very least I can get her to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“How do you know we don’t already have her?” Catayla asked. “We’ve captured several cultists over the past weeks.”

“Look,” I said. “Liv is as vain and flawed as anyone, but do you really think she carries a photo of herself? On her phone, sure, but an old printed wallet photo? It’s just not her style. Besides, I’ve seen that photo before, and it was in Troy’s wallet.”

“And you think he’ll tell you where she is? He hasn’t given our best interrogators anything, and you don’t even want to imagine what they are capable of. Trust me when I say that you’ve been treated well.”

“You’ve just told me that he’s alive and that you have him,” I sat back and crossed my arms. “Not bad, for a human.”

I smiled and steepled my fingers. I took several breaths and spoke slowly, trying to project an image of calmness and confidence. I could feel the Fisher grinning, the conversation was surprisingly close to how the creature had said it would go.

“I don’t need him to tell me anything,” I said. “I already know where she is. I just want to talk to my friend. I need to know if anything of him is left. And … I want to ask him why.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said as she began to stand. “If you actually know where she is then we may have a deal. I can’t guarantee my superiors won’t decide to come down on you with everything they have, though. This may not end the way you are hoping.”

I laughed. It made no sense, but the idea of a plan actually working the way I wanted it to just struck me as some kind of grand irony. No, this would be a cluster fuck of chaos and betrayal with a nice topping of death, but I had to roll the dice and hope I came out the other side.

“There is hardly much precedent of that.” My mirth slowly faded, and my voice took on a more serious tone. “Catayla,” I said as she reached the door.

“Yes, Finn?”

“When this is all sorted, no matter what happens, I want you to know that I still consider you as a friend.”

She didn’t answer, instead giving me a passing glance as she slowly closed door. I could hear the echoes of her boots on the hard tile as they gradually faded into the distance.

“How was that?” I asked.

“Good, Finn,” said a bristly wheeze. “Well done, indeed.”