Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The sound of my bare feet running on the clear acrylic panels almost beat out the ringing in my ears. I hated how they made the water appear so attainable to the eyes but held it a frustratingly safe distance away from me. The brisk night sent waves of salt water scented currents through the air. It was a welcome sensation, cutting through the dull numbness pulling me deeper into a state of senselessness I couldn’t pull myself out of.
The island of Persepolis was not my home. It was a beautiful place to live in and visit. It was a literal oasis. Its beauty seemed to corrupt everyone who saw it. Everyone, besides me, easily fell for its illusions and promises of prosperity of this island. I saw it for what it really was, a beautiful trap. I couldn’t hate it more. It was frustrating being so acquainted with this land’s dangers and secrets and knowing no one who felt the same. I felt hunted every night I was here. No night had been worse than this particular one.
Running alone in the night, knowing I was set up to fail by people who claimed I could trust them. The Maters played a sick joke on me and I fell for it. I was getting married in an hour and I was tripping over my feet from the intoxication. They wanted me in a state of bliss and agreeability, knowing too well my proclivity to question, pester, and be a nuisance. They thought they were solving the problem by getting me drunk.
It was a good thing I still had people who were loyal to me on this island. My desperate, wheezing breathing slowly regulated when I reached their door. The Gelly household was buzzing with excitement. Fin invited everyone to her house whenever the sub docked at the pier. It wasn’t a large condo, just big enough for two parents and two young adults, but that didn’t stop friends from dropping by.
Through the windows, I could see people still getting ready for my wedding. And there I was, sweaty and disheveled like a castaway.
Kellyn was the one to open the door. She looked me up and down slowly and a smirk spread across her mouth, instead of the more appropriate concern and rushing me inside to get fixed up. I growled under my breath at her.
My mother wasn’t on this island, so Edina was the closest thing I had. She appeared to relieve this frustrating encounter with Kellyn. After looking at the state of me for a second, she turned her head to yell.
“Fin!”
Kellyn and I both flinched at the sudden and eardrum splitting sound. Edina was no longer the matronly figure we all knew and loved but a strict drill sergeant yelling orders at everyone in her house. Edina pushed Kellyn out of the way and pulled Fin out of the front door by her wrist. Fin hopped on one leg until she could secure her second shoe. She finished tying her French braid while her mother zipped up the back of her dress.
Fin draped my arm around her shoulders as she supported me through the streets of Persepolis. She looked worried and I wished I could do anything to comfort her. I would be worried, too, if I wasn’t inebriated to the point of blissful ignorance.
At some point, we arrived at the banquet hall. Edina sat me down on a couch as she continued to do a million things at once. I leaned back and rested my head on the cushioned back. Fin had been instructed to slap me awake and I touched my cheek tenderly, wanting badly to complain that that had been unnecessary but before I could get any words out, a needle was digging into my inner elbow. My eyes trailed from the end of the needle and up to a clear sac of liquids hanging above me.
Edina gestured impatiently for me to get up on my feet. We moved to the bridal room. The stylists I had been working for five years with on the submarine were there with their tools and their black aprons ready and probably gossiping amongst themselves about what had happened to make me so late. Edina took one look at them and shooed them out of the room. I watched them as they packed their things and left, utterly dejected. I was astounded. Not even in my most non-negotiable moods did it occur to me to have the gumption to just “shoo” my team away.
The mother daughter duo cleaned me up on their own to make me look acceptable at the very least. With a little teamwork, we got the dress on.
“No,” I mumbled, half awake, when they tried to get me out of the door.
“Luos,” Fin tried to reason with me in this state. I caught my balance on the vanity counter, but it was a close call. I looked at myself for the first time as a bride-to-be in the mirror. Edina and Fin had done a wonderful job, rushed, last minute. I didn’t look at all like how I felt. I felt woozy, dizzy, disoriented, and like the world was ending. I let my neck hang. I studied the backs of my hands, arms and my neck in the mirror. The dress was a perfect adjoining article of clothing to match the artwork I already carried. On top of my black skin were etchings and markings as white as porcelain on every bit of exposed flesh.
I sighed and looked at my reflection, at what an incapable fool the Maters made out of me, then my eyes lingered on the razor on the counter.
Before they could stop me, the razor was turned on and I cut an asymmetrical bald spot through my afro hair like a careless landscape hedge trimmer. Edina and Fin groaned at this unforeseen setback. Instead of taking the time to make it look good, they knew the only option was to shave it all off.
Fin brushed off the remaining hairs from my shoulders and helped me up. Edina left to talk to the wedding planner and Fin stayed in the room to prevent any other surprises from happening. I tried my best to remain lucid and the IV was helping, but I couldn’t help but feel like the room was spinning. The fact that the island of Persepolis rocks like a boat probably didn’t help.
“What are you doing?” Fin asked me.
I was tearing off the train and skirt of my dress- a mermaid fit- before Fin could stop me. “I’m not going to let them drown me.”
“What are you talking about?” Fin asked. There was very little Fin could do to make anything I was saying or doing make sense.
“I can’t swim in this,” I explained. I held up the torn off pieces of tulle for her to see. “If anything goes wrong or not to their-” I pointed to the banquet hall- “liking, you know what they’ll do to me.”
Through my stupor, the voices of those in attendance danced through the cracks in the door. This whole wedding thing was feeling real. Real fast. I tried to sober myself up as best I could.
Here comes the bride was playing in absolutely no time at all. When I looked at Fin, as scared as I remembered being, we both had tears in our eyes. I grabbed her hand and she placed hers on top of mine.
Fin helped me walk to the door. All of the noise and blabbering drained out besides my own breathing and the beating of my heart as all of the faces in the hall turned to face me.
Some people audibly gasped. Some fainted at the sight of me. There was confusion in their voices. The last face I saw was the General’s. I was probably his least favorite person on this planet. If I saw an opportunity to shove something in his face, I was going to take it, always.
He may hate it but it’s going to take six months for my hair to grow back, so he’s out of luck. Unless they strap me down and sew a wig on me.
And then it was just him. My partner in crime, my supervisor, my coworker, my husband. Etam looked so unlike himself out of his government uniform. His hair was pulled back in a simple golden tie and his long, black hair flowed, relaxed, behind his ears. He was in a loose fitting pheasant shirt, no doubt redesigned by a top stylist and sold as chic instead of finding a shirt with history to it. It was all about appearances anyways. Any poverty was fashionable if it was made with glamor and prestige.
When Etam looked at me, he wasn’t disappointed, frightened, annoyed, or perturbed. I think I might have actually taken his breath away. Fin smiled at me once we were both on stage facing each other. She reluctantly removed her arm from under mine so I didn’t stumble without her support. Edina was to my left, officiating this wedding.
The cameras were all set up, live streaming my wedding for the entire world to take part. The important people attending in person were wearing their finest clothes and surrounded in white roses, pearls, and ribbons that decorated the windows and walls.
It was a set up. I was told all along that this wedding wasn’t real. Everyone in attendance had to insinuate that this wedding was a sham, a performance. It was all a production with the intention that the eyes of the general public would eat it up. The citizens, the working class, those that drive infrastructure, economy, and armies, it was their minds we had to convince we were in love. Nothing would change if we didn’t.
Still, it felt real. This was a commitment I was making to Etam. To the Maters. To the General. A lifetime of servitude whenever it was needed. It was a contract I was not ready to sign.
If I closed my eyes, I could still see Isle. I could see my family. I never imagined what my wedding day would look like if I had to choose for myself. I knew this empty promise of a chapel wasn’t it. I would never wear a dress. I couldn’t swim in a dress. On Isle, we wore our traditional Opas, a bandeau and a short skirt that left very little up to the imagination but invited mobility. I knew my parents would be there, on one side and whoever I married’s parents on the other. My younger siblings would be in attendance, beaming up at me with pride. I was never supposed to be married in a different country. I was supposed to be home.
All of this just proves that I was no longer my own person. I belonged to these foreigners. None of this was what I wanted. I wanted to marry someone who loved me, who would protect me, who my family approved of. I wanted a wedding that showed everyone how sickeningly in love I was. It was going to be an event everyone would remember for decades.
It wouldn’t be some plot for the “greater good”. There wouldn’t be anybody I didn’t know there. None of the people in this audience deserved to be presumed most important in my life. And more importantly, my wedding would be my choice.
I didn’t choose any of this.
The ceremony began. Everyone sat in their seats. I stared into Etam’s dark eyes. I was told what to do for this part but I still hesitated.
The knot-tying dance. Crossing every part of our bodies like we were making a pinky promise. The more knots you collaboratively were able to make, the longer the marriage is said to last, according to Morse tradition.
Etam put his hand on the small of my back, pressing us close together. I followed his lead and wrapped his leg around mine. I sucked in a breath when he suddenly grabbed me by the waist and lifted me off of my feet.
The audience gasped, too. This was my first time but I could guess not many husbands apply such a technique to this custom. With our lower bodies still intertwined, my torso wrapped around his like we were caught in public doing a very private act.
Etam could feel my heart pounding in my chest. He could read my expression. He didn’t want to be here any more than I did. He was trying to go easy on me. I stopped staring at him to follow the rise of our arms in the air.
Our eyes were locked when our arms twisted, our wrists, and our fingers.
It was an odd sensation. We made quite a statue of ourselves twisted beyond recognition. We knew it was over when the audience applauded. Etam and I realized how embarrassing it was to be pressed so close together, but now we were all wound into each other and all that work had to be undone.
Etam ceased my struggling by lifting me by my hips again, offering me some dignity back by giving the ceremony a gracious ending.
I looked down at my feet to avoid making eye contact with him. That was when I noticed the table settings. Fireflies were trapped in glass jars. They were beautiful and offered a calm, dim light. They floated peacefully in their cages. Their oxygen was running out.
I gasped and turned my head the other way, only taunting myself further by giving myself a perfect view of the water just outside. It was so close. Maybe five feet of distance, yet so far. Less far if I broke through the window. As if there was any chance of that happening.
If I were in the water, I’d be far away from here. I could go anywhere. No appointments, no commitments, no obligations.
My best moments in the water were countless. Exploring sunken cities covered in green algae and orange rust. Swimming alongside the turtles and the dolphins. Feeling the cold shock my skin, then feel as comforting as a blanket the deeper I dove.
Even with Etam. He was looking at me now. I didn’t mean to mentally escape and leave him there, the only one suffering in the moment. If he had to be married, I should also endure the promise we never made to each other and the vows we never wrote but pretend that we did.
We were together when we discovered the water level rising, the lie that the Ol’Ephraim hid from us. In that moment we shared under the water, it felt almost like we weren’t on opposite sides for once. I shocked him and he trusted me.
Then, life continued and I was reminded of who he worked for and what allowances he would make for people who don’t deserve his loyalty.
The tenderness in my eyes darkened to withdrawn security and I knew it hurt him to see it.
The applause took us out of the moment and I removed my hands from his. For the first time, I saw someone in the audience that I didn’t remember seeing before.
We met Nait on the mountain with the rest of Ol’Ephraim. We kept in contact since our first encounter and he’s proven himself to be dependable and an asset to the cause. The light in my eyes returned when I recognised him sitting there.
Because that meant that if Nait was here, the plan we set in place was a go. I smiled at Fin who smiled brightly back at me.
Etam looked confused. Etam and Nait met, but it had been five years and he hadn’t thought the boy so influential as to be invited to a function like this.
“This nation of Persepolis welcomes the union between the Cheetah, Luos and Sergeant Etam. Speak now if you have reason to believe these two shall not be wed this day.”
Etam put his arms around me like we were told to do. I held his hand and leaned into his chest. It was how the media manager told us to give off the image of two people who actually wanted to be together forever. Or are, in other words, in love.
“I object.”
I thought I said it. I was yelling it in my head so loud that I thought it might have accidentally slipped out.
I turned my head to find the man standing amongst the crowd who also had everyone else’s attention. While everyone had received explicit instructions to dress like they were going to be on camera, this man looked like he didn’t have the support of the fashion industry behind him. He looked like he was here to rob a train.
The General stood, covering up the shocked expressions on Etam and my face. He had a reputation to save.
“Say your piece,” General Dominus challenged the man, calmly.
“I will,” he stalked down the aisle, eyeing me pointedly before turning around not to address the crowd but the watchful cameras recording everything. “This,” he gestured to us behind him, “is not a declaration of love. General Dominus and his regime are pulling the strings behind everything the Cheetah, Luos, and what she is really doing associating with the Mores. She is not a convert to their ‘progressive’ ways. She is not the model citizen they will have you believe she is.”
“Enough rambling,” Lioness, the principal Mater, stood. She looked like a lion what with her mane of orange hair and whiskers on her face. “If you have something to say, do it on your own platform. We are only asking for reasons to deny this marriage. I’m sorry, who are you?”
The man smiled, “Governor Ghoubli, your mistress. Governor of Oush, second in command to President Macabre.” The crowd could not contain their excitement. They were gobbling up every second of this dumpster fire. An associate of my President arrived to crash my wedding to a Morse man? General Dominus wasn’t going to win the public favor with a beautiful wedding broadcasted without a hitch. Because his opponent in a warring country was going to reshape the narrative. It was juicy gossip, sure to make the headlines.
“Right,” Lioness looked the man up and down, speaking with a drawl. “And how are you in any position to judge the authenticity of these young kids’ relationship?”
Governor Ghoubli walked towards us and I nuzzled myself into Etam’s chest, forcing him to cradle me.
“Not the boy so much but back home, the girl is a little more than an ordinary teenager. She’s often seen lingering around the oil rig with some miscreants of the town. We’ve reported missing litres of oil from oil reserves on all of the islands of Isle. We’re on the verge of starvation and major health threats are rapidly rising due to the lack of resources. She’s suspect number one.”
“Security!” Lioness shouted. “You will not make a scene out of this wedding!”
I glared at the governor. He knew what he was doing. He knew how to get what he wanted.
“Tell them,” he dared me. “Tell them what you did.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
Raffaele stood out from his position in the matrimony line up and said, “She’s guilty. The Dolphin’s the one who did it.”
Everyone’s eyes were on Raffaele. Fin went up to him, grabbed his wrist, and yanked on his ear. I lowered my gaze from Raffaele to the floor.
How could he possibly know that?
Governor Ghoubli smiled satisfactorily as though he had nothing left to prove.
I looked up at Etam but he wasn’t looking at me. I could only imagine what he was thinking. He thought I was a fisherman’s daughter, not a crook. Let alone someone who encouraged the drilling of oil. Not passively, but as an active consumer and transporter.
I disgusted Etam.
“If you will not cough up to the crime you have been charged with, I am forced to do something I’d rather not do,” the Governor turned back to face the cameras. “This district of Oush officially wages war against Isle until those responsible are caught and charged.” The Governor gave the General a look, “It seems we have more enemies in common than we thought.”
The smile on the Governor’s face faded when a sound like the crack of thunder echoed across the banquet hall. Etam let go of me. All of his senses were on alert.
Another crack of intense pressure encouraged everyone to duck for safety. Women were screaming. Men were panicking.
“We’re under attack!” Etam yelled. The security had surrounded Governor Ghoubli but he took advantage of the distraction and dashed through them and out of the hall, disappearing in the night. “Air strike!”
Everyone screamed and the General’s army jumped into action, following Etam’s lead. His fellow Sergeants did what they were trained to do and cleared the way to the exits but when they did, the doors were locked from the outside.
The screaming did not stop. Even more people were crying out for help when the windows broke and masked assailants swung inside. Cans of gas started emitting foul smells and obscuring our sight.
Everyone was out of their seats, stumbling over each other to get to the doors and pound on them until they opened. The banquet hall shook like we were being bombed. The structure started to shake and break, creaking on its hinges. The people inside screamed at every abrupt movement and sound.
The army was busy calming people down and clearing the main exit door. I was still on stage, looking up and out of the windows. My ears had picked up on a whistling sound. I thought I almost located it.
The people who came to see a wedding were now coughing and gasping for air. Their legs gave out and they were crawling towards what they thought would be their best bet to safety.
Etam was gathering the wedding party. Securing Fin and Edina to an area where they’d be protected, at least somewhat.
When he looked up, he noticed that I wasn’t there with them. We saw the same thing at the same time. I turned around to face him. It was our last moment. A single tear was my apology to him.
He wasn’t going to let that be how we say good-bye to each other. He got up and sprinted over to me. In slow motion I could see his mouth yelling, “Get down!”
But the whistling had grown too loud. I was knocked to the ground by the impact of the explosion. Just then, intruders came through every window pane propelling down with carabiners.
Etam landed next to me. I gasped and we protected our heads from falling debris. The bits of wood and glass covered our bodies, cutting up our clothes and coating our once beautiful white wedding chapel in specks of scarlet.
I coughed. I inhaled too much gas. I had no more fight left in me. I could just barely lift a finger. I moved shakily to touch Etam who was lying next to me. He looked like he was at rest. He looked so peaceful. I wished we could die there together.
Then, I was screaming bloody murder. My palms were cut open when I tried to pull myself free of the masked enemy dragging me across what used to be my wedding procession.
Etam had the motivation to shake the dust off of him and get to his feet. I could see the effort he was making. Etam was strong but the gas was enough to knock down an elephant. He was doing his best to protect me, however futile.
I picked up my head. I could feel my lungs fill and deflate against the hard floor as I tried to warn Etam about the enemy with a gas mask approaching behind him.
“Look out!” I screamed.
It was too late. I screamed when I saw the moment the fight was taken from Etam. For a moment, he was suspended, and he looked careless. But then he was falling and nothing padded his fall.
The ringing in my ears faded. I turned myself over and stared at the ceiling. Everything was silent for once.
And then a shard of glass shattered. My captors and I turned towards the sound. Raffaele had sat himself in a corner and wadded up some cloth to breathe through. Now that the madness was over, he was going to make his big move.
“Oh, shit-” Raffaele swore when the remaining masked people surrounded him in an instant and hit him over the head with something.
With all those Morse people dealt with, the rest of the figures huddled around me. My chest hurt and my lungs burned. I supposed I had the gas to thank for that but I had to give props to what a whirlwind of a day that had been. There was just no use in trying to stay awake. The only thing I could do was submit to the effects of the drug and let it carry me away. The last thing I saw before I passed out were the silhouettes of the scary gas mask men underneath the beautiful, glittering chandelier slowly spinning and twinkling like stars.
