Pure chocolate, p.9
Pure Chocolate, page 9
part #2 of Chocoverse Series
“Now, I wasn’t here for part of the day, but while I was cleaning the office areas, I saw a couple of the old guys who come in for breakfast every morning getting their coffee from the vending machine. Since they’re regulars, the restaurant doesn’t mind them bringing it in. Have you tried the restaurant yet? They make amazing skhalb.”
“Anyone else?” I prompt.
“An offworlder girl asked me for some extra towels, and that couple from Room 203 made out in the hallway from the time I started cleaning the bathrooms until I finished vacuuming the conference room.” He shrugs. “If you want to talk to the old guys, they went out with the salvage operation.”
He gestures in the general direction of where I’d seen that wrecked ship becoming one with the reef.
My eyes widen. “I thought that was off bounds.”
“Not everybody believes there is such a thing as a phkhekk fiekksk. And if it was, nothing could have survived this long underwater.” The janitor shrugs. “Besides, they got an offworlder commission, and the money’s good.”
I need to talk to those Zantites, find out if they saw anything that could help clear Brill. If they’re here every day, they probably have a better bead on the area than anyone else.
I make my way down to the beach. I only spot Mertex trailing me once.
There’s a truck idling on packed sand that makes a road heading away from the shore. Three Zantites are carrying blocky items from a small boat and piling them into a truck. One guy has the locked box I’d seen.
I try to get their attention, pero they deposit the items in the truck, get in the front and drive away before I can get close enough that ignoring me becomes obviously rude.
The boat driver makes eye contact with me, then revs the engine and heads for deeper water. I don’t know if it’s because I’m an offworlder, or because they know I’m bound to be asking about Brill and they don’t want to get involved.
With a sigh, I head for the spa. Minda’s already there, waiting to talk to me. It has to be about Mertex’s vow, no?
Valeria makes her wait. My stylist takes a good look at my face and tuts over all the scratches. “You’ve been out in the sun, too, but it’s all on one side. I hope your skin is smooth enough for foundation by the time we film again.”
She spreads a layer of cooling goop on my face and wipes her hands on a towel.
“A side effect of the Invincible Heart is that my skin’s the smoothest it’s been since I was a niña. If not for the weird color of my nails, it’d be great.” I hold out my hands, where the polish has chipped off, revealing the shade the natural nail has grown in, between pea and puce.
“Egad!” Valeria grabs my hands to get a closer look, at the same time smearing cream all over my fingers. She drops them when Tawny stalks in, Mertex in tow. Murry’s face is bright green.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
I may have made a statement to a Zantite reporter that I believe Brill is innocent. “I told the truth.”
“Which could lead to your show being cancelled. Is that what you want?”
“What I want is to keep Brill breathing.” I stare at the green showing through the cracked polish on my nails. It’s not growing out any lighter. There’s no getting out of any of this. “Pero, if I can’t, I’d at least like to find a way to unbind Mertex’s life from mi vida’s.”
“That was supposed to be an honorary title and assignment. This wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. We’re making a cooking show, for Garfex’s sake!” Minda’s been about to pop, waiting to say that.
Tyson and I have been discussing this at length. “If Brill dies, you’re supposed to execute him. Mertex’s life belongs to you.”
“And what would I do with it?” She pokes me in the shoulder. “Tradition and peoples’ expectations be damned, I will not destroy someone I’m in love with. After all, mercy is a gift.”
“You’re what now?” Mertex sounds flabbergasted.
I stare at Minda. A bit of the goop Valeria stuck on my face falls into my lap. I ignore it.
Had Minda overheard me at the bar? Does she know what I did – or rather didn’t do – for Fizzax’s sake?
She stares straight back. It’s definitely a reference. “You heard me.”
Mercy for mercy, I’ve started something here. Too bad it’s not enough to help Brill. Or Mertex. Or anyone.
“I’d like to talk to the Galactic Inspector you’ve been consulting with,” Tawny says. “See if there’s anything I can spin.”
“Sí.” I take Valeria’s towel and try to wipe the goop off my hands.
Brill walks in, stooped and defeated, his eyes iron gray.
My hands are still sticky. “Can you forward Tyson’s contact to Tawny?”
“Reshdo.” He gingerly holds out a hand for my phone.
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you get a new one?”
“Ga. Didn’t seem that important.”
Brill must really believe he’s going to die. His phone is key for both his business and his social life. It’s the only possession – besides his ship – he cares much about.
I fight a hitch in my throat.
“Bo, he is absolutely glorious. I am thoroughly sorry for your loss.” Minda gives me a sad smile, and steps over to put a hand on my arm. There’s nothing different about Brill. Praising him must be part of Zantite comfort. She turns to Brill, “Kiss her well, that she may wear your valor on her lips forever.”
They use that line a lot in Zandywood holos, and it’s cheesetastic, pero it still leaves moisture glittering in Brill’s eyes.
Chapter Eleven
The next day – Brill’s last day – we watch the sunrise from my balcony, and then head down to a little coffee shop. Once I’ve got my coffee, Brill laces his arm through mine, and guides us to a table.
“I have to give you something.” His eyes are stormclouds.
My chest suddenly feels tight. “Por qué do I get the feeling I’m not going to want it?”
He winces. “You probably won’t, at first. It’s a Krom tradition for someone who’s dying to give his friends a… I guess the closest English is a parting gift. There’s a galactic antiques shop on the southern island, and one of the imports they specialize in is Krom. I stopped there yesterday.”
“Oh.” I take another sip of coffee. There’s ice burning in my chest that isn’t soothed at all by the coffee’s heat. “On Earth, a parting gift is what they give a contestant on a gameshow who’s lost and is about to get booted off.” I try my best to smile.
“That’s not too far wrong.” He takes a silk pouch out of his jacket. “The box for these is on my ship. There’s seven pendants in a full set of paladzian, because in the Codex, six hearts are the most that you can hold in your hand. It means six friends and loved ones are the most you can really be close to. You are the only one on this planet I want to give one to.”
“Tyson’s coming,” I insist. “You can’t give up hope. Por favor.”
“Oh. Su. That’s the thread of hope I’m holding onto.” Brill closes his eyes. “The pendants are supposed to be worn close to the heart during the stress of grieving because the ore conducts energy that helps stabilize the heartbeat. Wearing mine will help me get through today. And yours will help you cope after I’m gone. Even if you’re not Krom.”
“This means a lot to you.” I pull the pouch towards me. The piece inside is bonita, disk-shaped and engraved with a woodland scene, the crystal forming the sun. It suits his taste perfectly.
“They ought to have been specially commissioned, paid for with ore I earned trading, but I’m too young to have had them made. The guy at the store felt sorry for me, and gave them to me. He told me to use the money to do whatever that one thing is that I’ve always wanted to do before I die.”
I let him take the pendant from the pouch and fasten it around my neck. His hands must still hurt, pero he manages it. Then he puts on one himself.
Brill’s hands ball into painful fists. “I am so sorry, Babe.”
“Lo siento por qué?”
“I’m the one who got you involved with all of HGB’s secrecy garbage. The black ship. The poisoned chocolate. I planned to be there in case it all blew back in your face when the publicity tour is over. And I can’t be.” His eyes are mahogany.
“Mi vida.” I can’t manage anything else past the sudden lump in my throat. Finally I get my breathing under control. “Kaliel was cleared. That’s all in the past, no?”
Brill looks at me like I’m un poco estúpido. “Frank said that you stay alive as long as you stay in line. Look good for the cameras. Tout HGB as Earth’s last hope. But what happens when they don’t need you anymore? Are you going to join the corporation your dad died fighting against? Because if you don’t, they’re going to decide at some point you’re a liability, and Frank’s going to make your death look like an accident.”
“Frank wouldn’t really give up Mamá.” Pero, we both know he would, if he thought the alternative was losing his planet.
“Listen to me. You need to make Chestla stop looking into that black ship we found in the bumpclip of Kaliel blowing up the SeniorLeisure tour, and you need to forget about Serum Green. If you need to run, my ship’s in the hangar, and the title is in the same compartment where I store my gun. I’ve signed it, so all you need to do is add your signature, and it will be made over to you. There’s money in there, too. Find Gavin and tell him that I made a parvbada,” death promise, “declaring you his trevhonell.” Responsibility something. “Don’t worry. It’s not sexual. But he’ll live up to it, even though you’re an Earthling and he’s a bit prejudiced. You–”
I put a finger on his lips. “I’ll be fine.” The tears in his eyes match the ones escaping my own. “Somehow.”
I close my eyes, losing myself in the raw ache, and moments later, Brill’s arms are around me.
He’s given up. I need to remind him why he wants to live. I cross my arms over my chest, the crystal embedded in the pendant poking coldly into my skin. “Que? What is it, then?”
“What is what, Babe?”
“The one thing you want to do before you die?”
His brows crease together. “You’re going to think it’s kalltet.”
“This whole situation’s stupid. Try me.”
He holds out his hands. “Nobody’s ever been able to collect a commodity from Zant before, and this sawk stuff could be weaponized against Krom, so it’d be good to have an antidote. I want to get samples into a live box and mail them home. It would be my legacy.”
“Then let’s do it.” I put the van in gear and reverse onto the road.
“You would participate in a Krom discovery?”
That gives me pause. The Krom “discovered” Earth. Our peoples hate each other over it. He’s asking where my loyalties lie. And that’s complicated.
“I basically already did, when I helped your amigo Jeska get credit for selling cacao.” I keep my eyes on the road. “I’m still conflicted about what you guys do. I can see your point, that commodities need to be open-sourced, pero I grew up with the results of when you crashbang it.” I can’t help but remember the CastClip of the vlogger that found out Earth – and all its major commodities – had been discovered and traded across the galaxy. The shock on her face when the guy had told her, Girlie, your planet’s been mugged! The road curves and I take a deep breath with it. “Pero, te amo.” I say I love him again, this time in Krom. “Tesuaquenell. I want to understand you.”
“Harvesting plants is going to take time. Tawny’s going to kill us if we’re late getting back. Or if she finds out you were part of a discovery.”
“No, she’s not. Nunca. Because they can only execute us once, remember?”
I just thought my bruised back hurt before. By the time I’ve spent a couple of hours trying to dig out vines with intact roots, and making out a little with the Krom who makes me feel whole, and hiking back to the van, I’m so stiff that I can barely drive.
When we stop by the postal center, Brill already has the package prepped. Pero, he takes out an envelope and goes to talk to the Zantite at the window. He puts a thin stack of cash in the envelope, writes something on it and hands it over. When he comes back to where I’m waiting, I ask, “Did you have to bribe him to send it, mi vida?”
Brill’s eyes tint violet. “Ga. When Krom take a commodity, we pay for it, or at least try. Since the sawks aren’t available commercially, I’m honoring that shopkeeper’s intent by donating the amount he didn’t charge me to the local wetland fund.”
“The logic of commodities,” I tell him.
“Everyone has them.” Then he asks, “So what’s HGB’s new product?”
“Que?” It sounds like he’s saying HGB, which had been allowed the monopoly on cacao because it had promised to leave everything else alone, wants to branch out. Impossible, no?
He takes my phone and pulls up a CastClip, where the CEO of HGB is being interviewed. He talks about how Earth’s biodiversity is vast, how we can find something else the galaxy will buy from us even if we can’t hold onto chocolate. He says there’s something promising – that just needs a more stable delivery system. And that we have all the time in the worlds to develop it, because it would cost the aliens too much in money and lives to actually invade Earth. Therefore, it will never happen.
Persuasive, no? Especially with his shoulders-back, set-jaw herocast posture. Pero, for all his words, he hasn’t really said anything. He’s hinging our future on the idea that the invasion is not a cost-effective proposition. Even though the coalition is moving forward with plans to file with the Galactic Court.
Besides, what is this product? How does it justify giving HGB a new monopoly?
I bet Tawny already knows, is planning the spin. Asking her is pointless, though.
I wince. Brill puts a hand on mine. I feel horrible that he’s the one comforting me.
We do get back before the funeral starts, with just enough time to change into somber clothes. In my room, Brill gives me one final kiss. Our last beso. I try to sear myself onto his lips, a memory of our love to give him courage.
I put everything that I am into this one moment, this one kiss. And when he breaks it, it’s like a bubble popping, cascading from the warm pool of love into icy agua.
Chapter Twelve
They’re having the funeral at Minda’s studio, which seems kind of tacky.
When we arrive on set, Tawny’s fluttering around setting up the funeral music, making sure they’re getting everything on camera. They even let Jimena out of the hospital to attend.
Tyson still hasn’t gotten here. That caves in my heart.
Mertex is here. He’s not a coward. Even if he is wearing two of those mothball necklaces Zantite soldiers sometimes put on to forestall summary execution: when disappointed superiors are expected to execute you with their teeth, making yourself unpalatable is a legitimate survival strategy.
At Zantite funerals where the body is intact, everyone touches the coffin, which is at the entrance to the room, as they enter. Some people are patting it, or knocking on it. I just slide my hand along the smooth wood. Kaliel’s not even in there, so it’s not creepy.
I drop my hand to my side and walk into the room we’ve been using to FeedCast the show. The kitchen set has been curtained off, until after, when all the food we made last night will be served. They’ve set up a stage with a simple podium.
If only Kaliel was in that estúpido box. If only we knew what happened. Pero, it’s too late. The pendant hanging heavy around my neck is proof of that.
“Look, Babe.” Brill points at a vase, where pieces of sawk-vine are intermixed with tiny white flowers and undulating spiny things that look more like rainbow-colored caterpillars than plant life. “It’s a funeral flower. I need to add that to my notes now, while there’s time.”
“Sí.” Time’s a funny thing. Ours is gone, pero it doesn’t feel like anything’s about to end. Which is probably just another side effect of the IH.
There aren’t many empty seats – this funeral with no body is something of a public spectacle – pero we find two near the end of a row, towards the back.
As we sit, the Zantite to my left leans over. He’s young, maybe not even as old as the learning pod that had served as Kaliel’s rescue crew. He says in halting English, “You’re from Earth, right?”
I nod.
“Cool!” He holds up one of his flexible hands and spreads his fingers apart in a Star Trek-inspired salute. “Live–”
“Please. No.” I hold up both of my own hands, cutting him off. I can’t hear that right now, not in English, not when Brill’s about to die.
He looks kind of hurt. “I didn’t mean–”
“No. Lo siento. I’m sorry. It’s just me, feeling too homesick.” I manage a smile. “You do realize Vulcan isn’t a real planet, right?”
He pops me the salute again. “You never know, maybe we just haven’t found it yet.”
This kid – his optimism and appreciation for my planet’s stories – is exactly why I’m here. It could all be so different. I wonder if he will still feel the same after watching a Krom die.
The funeral starts, soft flute music playing as everyone stands. I can no longer see over the Zantites in front of me. Brill’s on his tippy-toes, pero I doubt he sees anything either.
I hear Minda’s voice. “Gatherings as large as this may not be our tradition for honoring the dead, but we know, if nothing else, how to be good neighbors in the galaxy. We choose privacy. This man’s people choose community.”
Everyone sits back down.
My handheld buzzes. I fumble it out of my pocket and get it switched to silent. It’s an all caps text from Fizzax – in English. WHAT IS BRILL HOLDING?
I look down. Brill has slipped a syringe out of his pocket. It is unmistakably the Invincible Heart. The murky liquid, flecked with swirling gold, holds everything I need to scratch the itch in my blood, plus a few hours of vitality and lack of anxiety to cope with the horror of what’s about to happen to someone I dearly love. I want that syringe, to the core of my bones.
