Winter

Ninety-Four

Still weak-legged, Cinder held on to Kai’s arm as he guided her through Artemisia Palace for the first time since the insurrection. All around her, enormous windows and tiled walls glittered in the sunlight. It was so beautiful. She was having trouble believing it was hers.

Her palace, her kingdom, her home.

She wondered how long it would take before it felt real.

Iko had chosen her dress, a simple gown taken from Winter’s wardrobe, and done her hair in some fancy updo. Cinder was afraid to move her head for fear it would all come tumbling down. She knew she was supposed to feel regal and powerful, but instead she felt like a feeble girl playing dress-up.

She drew strength from Kai’s presence on one side and Iko on the other, even though Iko wouldn’t stop reaching up and mucking with her hair. Cinder batted her away again.

At least Iko’s arm was working again. Dr. Nandez had managed to return most of her body’s functionality, but there was still a lot of damage to be repaired.

As they turned a corner, she spotted her new personal guard, Liam Kinney, along with Kai’s adviser, Konn Torin. Beside them were Adri and Pearl.

Cinder hesitated, her pulse speeding up.

“Cinder.”

She met Kai’s gaze, his encouraging smile, and felt her heart tumbling for another reason entirely.

“I know this is weird,” he said, “but I’m here if you need me. You won’t need me, though. You’re going to be great.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, fighting the urge to embrace him, to crawl into his arms and hide from the rest of the galaxy. Maybe forever.

“Also”—his voice lowered—“you look beautiful.”

It was Iko who responded, “Thank you for noticing.”

Kai laughed, while Cinder, her thoughts fluttering in all different directions, ducked her head.

Cinder limped along, making a point not to look at her stepfamily. When she was close enough, Konn Torin bowed to her. Diplomatic respect, Cinder thought, remembering all the many glares she’d received from this man since she’d first seen him at the annual ball. But when he raised his head, he was smiling. In fact, he seemed downright friendly.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “On behalf of the people of the Eastern Commonwealth, I want to thank you for all you’ve done, and all you will do.”

“Oh, um. Yeah. Anytime.” With a difficult swallow, she dared to look at Adri.

Her stepmother’s face had a gauntness about it. Her number of gray hairs had tripled these past weeks.

There was a moment in which Cinder thought of a thousand things she could say to this woman, but none of them seemed important anymore.

Adri’s gaze dropped to the floor. She and Pearl both lowered into uncomfortable curtsies.

“Your Majesty,” said Adri, sounding like she was chewing on a bitter lemon. Beside her, Pearl also mumbled, almost unintelligibly, “Your Majesty.”

Iko snorted—a derisive sound that Cinder hadn’t even thought escorts were capable of making.

Staring at the tops of Pearl’s and Adri’s heads, she attempted to come up with a gracious response—something Kai would have said. Things a good queen would have done to ease the tension. To offer forgiveness.

Instead, she turned away.

Kinney fisted a hand against his chest and Cinder gave him what she hoped was a regal nod, before Kai led her through a pair of double doors. She had asked him to find a neutral place to host this meeting—not the throne room that had seen so much blood, or the queen’s solar, or wherever Levana would have conducted such a thing. She entered into a conference room with an enormous marble table and two holograph nodes, turned off.

The room was already full. She gulped, the uncanny silence nearly pushing her back into the hallway. She recognized most of them, but her brain interface wasted no time in pulling up their profiles from the net database anyway.

President Vargas of the American Republic.

Prime Minister Kamin of the African Union.

Queen Camilla of the United Kingdom.

Governor-General Williams of Australia.

Prime Minister Bromstad of the European Federation.

Dr. Nandez—the acclaimed cybernetic surgeon, and Nainsi, the android that Cinder had fixed for Kai a long time ago. She had been brought to Luna to record this occasion for Earth’s official records.

Adri and Pearl were escorted around the table.

Which left only Iko, Kai, Konn Torin, and Cinder herself—or, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Selene Channary Jannali Blackburn of Luna. She wondered if it was all right for her to ask that everyone just call her Cinder.

Before she could speak, the world’s leaders rose to their feet and started to applaud. Cinder recoiled.

One by one, they went around the room, bowing and curtsying in turn.

Suddenly panicked, Cinder looked at Kai. He gave her a one-shouldered shrug, suggesting that, yeah, it’s weird, but you get used to it.

When the circle came around to him, he too pressed one hand to his chest and inclined his head, the best bow he could give while still supporting her with one arm.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, wondering if she should curtsy, but she couldn’t perform a graceful curtsy on her best of days, and it would be disastrous with all her injuries. Instead she held her cyborg hand out to them. “Um, please, be seated?”

The clapping had faded, but no one sat.

Kai led Cinder to the head of the table and eased her into a seat. Only then did the others follow, Kai taking the seat to Cinder’s right. Adri and Pearl were sandwiched between Konn Torin and President Vargas. They looked supremely uncomfortable.

“Um. Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Cinder began. She tried folding her hands on top of the table, but that felt strange, so she instead curled them in her lap. “I’m sure you’re all eager to return home.”

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” said Queen Camilla, not looking at all sorry, “but might I take this moment to say congratulations on the reclamation of your throne.”

Another fit of clapping started at the queen’s words, and Cinder had the impression they weren’t so much congratulating her on becoming a queen as they were congratulating themselves on no longer having to deal with Levana.

“Thanks. Thank you. I hope you’ll understand that I … um. I hope you’ll be patient with me. This is all new for me and I’m not…”

I’m not really a queen.

She glanced around the table, at the eager, hopeful faces staring at her like she was some sort of hero. Like she had done something great. Her gaze swept around the table, feeling more nervous and inadequate with every person she crossed—older, wiser, experienced—until Kai.

As soon as he had her attention, he winked.

Her stomach flipped.

She turned away and squared her shoulders.

“I asked you here today because the relationship between Earth and Luna has been strained for a long time, and my first act as…” She hesitated and moved her hands to the top of the table again, lacing her fingers together. A few gazes dropped to her cyborg prosthetic, but all tried to pretend they hadn’t noticed. “As my first act as queen of Luna, I want to forge a peaceful alliance with the Earthen Union. Even if it’s only symbolic at first, I hope it will be the start of a fruitful and mutually beneficial … political … um…” She glanced at Kai.

“Relationship?” he suggested.

“Relationship.” She straightened her spine, hoping she didn’t sound as stupid as she felt. Around her, though, the diplomats were nodding, all respect and agreement. “I’m aware that a peaceful alliance will begin with all Lunar military units being removed from Earthen soil, and I will try to ensure that the transition is completed as quickly as possible.”

A breath of relief washed over those gathered.

“In fact,” Cinder continued, “my understanding is that, under Kai—Emperor Kai—Kaito?” She raised her eyebrows at him, realizing this was the first time she’d ever been expected to be formal in his presence.

In response, Kai looked like he wanted to laugh. She glared at him.

“Under Emperor Kaito’s instruction,” she continued, “some of those military units are already en route back to Luna.”

A round of nods. They had heard this already.

She swallowed, hard. Her wounds were starting to itch on top of the constant, drug-dulled aching. She hoped that her first act as queen wouldn’t be passing out.

“Luna will also continue to produce and distribute the letumosis antidote as it’s necessary and our resources allow. As you know, the antidote was being obtained from ungifted Lunars who had been forced into a permanent comatose state in order to have their blood extracted, which is a violation of their rights. I’m told it might be possible to manufacture lab-grown blood platelets to mimic those of the shell—um, ungifted Lunars, and I hope to redirect Luna’s research efforts in that direction, and find a solution that will be fair to everyone. Of course, all samples of the antidote that we already have in stock will be dispersed to Earth immediately.”

Nodding. Smiles. Relief and gratitude.

Cinder braced herself. “That said, I do have a few … requests to make of you.”

As the air of victory around the table gave way to masked patience, and a hint of tension, Cinder tucked a strand of fallen hair behind her ear.

“I want to make clear that these requests are just that—requests. Your answer won’t change my mind about any of the promises I’ve made. This isn’t a negotiation.” She pulled herself closer to the table.

“First.” She tried to hold eye contact with those around her, but found it impossible, her gaze sinking down to her hands while she spoke. “For years, cyborgs have been treated as secondary citizens…” She cleared her throat, feeling Kai’s presence, burning, beside her. “I experienced it firsthand growing up in the Commonwealth. Underage cyborgs are seen more as property than people, with hardly any more rights than androids. There’s a prejudice surrounding us, that because we’ve been given unnatural abilities—man-made abilities—we’re a danger to society. But it isn’t true. We just want acceptance, like anybody else. And so, my request is that all laws regarding cyborgs be reexamined, and we be given the same equality and basic rights as everybody else.”

Daring to look up, she saw more than one flushed face, and no one daring to make eye contact with her. The new cyborg queen of Luna.

Except Kai, who looked ashamed to be included with the others. But despite his decision to stop the cyborg draft for letumosis testing, the Commonwealth continued to have many of the same injustices as the rest of the planet.

Kai was the first to nod. “The Commonwealth agrees to your request. These laws are unfair and antiquated.”

After another long silence, Queen Camilla cleared her throat. “The UK agrees as well. We will begin the reexamination of the laws in earnest upon my return.”

Prime Minister Bromstad bashfully admitted that he would need to set up a parliamentary vote before any changes could be made into law, as did the other republics, but there was general agreement around the table. It was by no means a hearty agreement, Cinder could tell, and she tried to disguise how much this irked her. She knew that just because one cyborg had saved the world didn’t mean they were ready to give up generations of prejudices, but Cinder hoped it was a start.

“Second. I ask that all restrictions on Lunar emigration be removed. Lunars should be free to come and go between Luna and Earth as they please—I don’t want Luna to feel like a prison to its citizens anymore. Likewise, once we’re prepared for it, I will open Luna’s ports to Earthen travel and emigration. Like it used to be, when Luna first became a country and trade and travel were encouraged. I feel like it’s the only way our two societies will begin to start trusting each other.”

As she spoke, she noticed many glances being passed between the other leaders.

It was the Australian governor-general who dared to speak. “While I understand your motives, how can we trust that the Lunars who come into our countries won’t…” He hesitated.

“Manipulate you?” said Cinder. “Brainwash your people? Commit unspeakable crimes against humanity, knowing how easy it will be for them to get away with it?”

He flashed a wry smile. “Exactly.”

“I believe that Earthens and Lunars can coexist peacefully,” said Cinder. “We’ve seen it in Farafrah and other north African towns over the past decade, where close to fifteen percent of the population is made up of Lunar immigrants. They work together. They trust each other.”

“Fifteen percent?” said Africa’s Prime Minister Kamin. “I’ve never heard this statistic.”

“They don’t publicize it, but it didn’t seem to be a secret, even to the Earthen locals. They had formed a mutually beneficial relationship.”

“As lovely as that thought is,” said Kamin, “with all due respect, you are very young, Your Majesty. You may not be aware that there was a time when travel was encouraged between Earth and Luna, and in that time, we experienced episodes of mass brainwashing put upon our people, forced suicides, rapes … Not only is it difficult to prove when a Lunar has manipulated an Earthen, but half the time, we can’t even tell a crime was committed.” She stopped herself as her voice started to rise. “I of course mean no disrespect to you, Your Majesty.”

“No disrespect taken,” said Cinder. “I am, in fact, quite familiar with the Massacre at New Haven, 41 T.E., the Mindless Marches of 18 T.E., the highly publicized case of Roget v. Caprice in the second era, and, oh, about a thousand other notable examples of Lunars exerting their gift on the people of Earth.”

Kamin looked taken aback. In fact, the whole table seemed more than a little surprised.

Leaning forward, Cinder spoke very clearly. “I have a computer in my brain,” she said. “So while I’m not going to tell you that I am the smartest or, by any means, the most experienced person in this room, I would suggest that no one use my youth to believe that I am also ignorant.”

“Of course,” said Kamin, newly tense. “Forgive me. I meant no offense.”

“Your concerns are legitimate,” said Cinder. “If I could offer you a solution—a promise that no Earthen would ever be manipulated again, or would at least be given an opportunity to protect themselves against that manipulation—would you agree to my request?”

“It would be worth considering,” said President Vargas. “And I, for one, am dying to know what this solution might be.”

“Right.” Cinder flicked her hand toward her stepmother. “This is Linh Adri, a citizen of the Eastern Commonwealth.”

Adri started, whipping her gaze around the table of very important people.

“Adri’s husband, a man named Linh Garan, was an inventor who specialized in android systems and cybernetics. He’s deceased now, but when he was alive, he invented a … device. It attaches to a person’s nervous system and can protect them from being manipulated by the Lunar gift. Levana learned of this device recently and did her best to have all patents and blueprints concerning the device destroyed, even going so far as to have Adri, the rightful owner of the technology, imprisoned here on Luna.”

Adri had gone pale. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about it. This device, if it ever existed, is long gone—”

“Well, it’s sort of long gone,” interrupted Cinder. “As far as I know, there were only two working prototypes. One was in an Earthen woman named Michelle Benoit, who was killed during the attacks in Paris. The other is inside me.” She turned to Dr. Nandez, whose interest seemed piqued for the first time since the meeting had started.

Leaning forward, the doctor cupped her chin in one hand. “On your axis vertebra?” she said. “I saw it on your holograph, but I didn’t know what it was.”

Cinder nodded. “I hope you’ll tell me the device can be safely removed, and the hardware reproduced. If we can copy it, there could come a time when everyone who wants to avoid bioelectrical manipulation would have the power to do so.”

A rustle of disbelief.

“Is that possible?” said President Vargas.

“Absolutely,” said Cinder. “It worked on me, and it worked on Michelle Benoit.”

“I hate to be pessimistic,” said Dr. Nandez, “but your installed device appeared to have severe damage. Though it’s possible we could use it to create a blueprint for the hardware, I have to assume that any programming has been damaged beyond repair. If Queen Levana really did have the data destroyed, I don’t know how easily it can be reproduced.”

“You’re right. Mine was destroyed.” Cinder risked a glance at Adri and Pearl, who were frowning as they tried to follow the conversation. “Luckily, Linh Garan created a backup for the device’s internal software. He was clever enough to hide it in an obscure place where no one would think to look for it. Do you know, Linh-jiĕ?”

Startled at the formal greeting, Adri shook her head.

“He hid it inside the personality chip of a lowly Serv9.2.”

Iko squeaked.

Redness crept into Adri’s cheeks. Dawning comprehension, and horror. “Oh—but I … but the android … I didn’t know she was—”

“Valuable?” Cinder smiled wryly. “I know. Adri had the android in question dismantled and sold off as spare parts.”

There was more than one gasp around the table, and a lot of furious glances passed toward Adri and Pearl.

“Everything,” Cinder added, “except the faulty personality chip that no one else wanted. No one except Linh Garan … and me.” She nodded at Iko. “The chip is inside my escort-droid friend here, and I have no doubt we’ll be able to extract the information stored there.”

“Huh,” said Iko, pressing her finger into her temple. “I remember when he uploaded those files. I thought they were for malware protection.”

“Of course,” said Cinder, “Linh Adri is the owner of the patent and the technology, so it’s fair she be compensated. I expect you can work out some sort of royalty from the manufacturing of the device.”

A round of agreement rumbled through the table—all but Adri. “Royalty?” Her gaze darted to Pearl, then back to Cinder. “How … how much of a royalty?”

Iko lowered her hand, grumbling, “Too much.”

Cinder bit back a smile. “That’s between you and the government entities you’re selling it to.” Leaning across the table, she fixed a glare on her stepmother. “I suggest you don’t get greedy.”

Scolded, Adri sank back in her chair. But there was a brightness in her eye, as someone across the table mentioned the potential market for such a device. Millions, possibly billions could be reproduced over the next decade …

Adri reached for her daughter’s hand. Pearl glanced at her mother, and she, too, seemed to finally understand.

Linh Garan’s device had the potential to make them very, very wealthy.

Cinder realized, with some surprise, that she didn’t feel as bitter about it as she’d thought she would. Let Adri have her riches and royalties, her daughter and her life. After this day, Cinder intended never to think of either of them again.

Her only regret was that Peony wasn’t here to see it. She would never play dress-up with Iko in the royal closets. Her eyes wouldn’t sparkle as Cinder put on her crown for the first time. She had never met Kai, who had become so much more to Cinder than her prince or her emperor or an impossible dream.

“That brings me to my final request,” Cinder said, determined to get through this meeting before any emotions, good or bad, overwhelmed her. “This one relates to only two of you. President Vargas and Governor-General Williams.” Cinder adjusted herself in her chair. “It involves a man named Carswell Thorne.”