This scene contains sexual content.
25th of the Hazel’s Frost 2030 DCE
Ayvarta, Solstice City — Kuwba Oasis Resort
Shortly after midnight a stark silence fell over the guest room.
One final creak of the mattress spring; one last verse in the lover’s ragged duet.
At the peak of their passion the lovers fell onto the bed together.
Parinita laid on her back, looking up at Madiha at her most physically glorious.
Her hair thrown about, eyes half-closed, her breasts rising and falling with her rough breathing. Her skin was smooth and bark-brown in the dark, slick and glistening with sweat that made the slight, lean delineations of muscle in her arms, shoulders and belly more visible. She looked like she had been caught in a monsoon, and she was beautiful.
Her dark, fiery eyes locked to Parinita’s own and she smiled softly.
“Let me hold you.” Madiha asked.
She rarely expressed a specific desire like that, so it was urgent to accommodate it.
Parinita tittered as she and Madiha shifted in bed.
Taller and leaner, Madiha crawled off from atop Parinita and laid breasts against back, holding Parinita with one arm over her chest and another under her weight. Parinita was a little more plump than her girlfriend, and Madiha seemed to want to dig deep into her. She held her tight, and she locked legs with her and drew her head close. Parinita responded, pulling back her strawberry hair from her shoulder so Madiha could eagerly kiss there. She felt Madiha’s breathing, a warm pulse rolling down her slick flesh.
“I love you so much.” Parinita said.
Madiha held a kiss on her neck a little longer in response.
They laid together for some time, eventually growing quiet and still, Madiha staring into Parinita’s shoulder and Parinita staring at the subtle, waving patterns on the wallpaper. She treasured this chance. Not just because she was horned up. It was not that their sex life was sparse; they had enough opportunity to suit both their levels of interest and endurance. But moments like this, when they managed to lay down together without the pressure of time or the tension of something on the horizon, came only once in a while.
Last time they got to have sex and then bide their time, alone and at peace, without responsibility for hours and hours at a time, must have been Rangda, after the festival. Parinita had been the aggressive one then too — she usually always was. Madiha tended to turn the tables around eventually, however. This time had been like that as well. Though she seemed like a muted person, Madiha was quietly intense. It was delightful.
Parinita often wondered what Madiha thought in these circumstances. She didn’t think to ask. She knew a lot about her lover’s interior life when it came to other matters. But they never talked much about sex or about being in bed, or about their relationship. Parinita felt too insecure to seek the answers; she felt better thinking it must all be fine.
That night however, Madiha seemed finally inclined to make conversation.
“Parinita, I’m going to keep fighting, you know?”
Internally, Parinita sighed. Both fondly, but also a touch annoyed.
“Even if you ask me to stop. I know that I couldn’t.”
“Hey, I would not ask you to. I’m a soldier too! Or do you not consider me one?”
That seemed to give Madiha pause. “I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”
“Damn right you wouldn’t! I’ve seen the notes you take for that book of yours.”
“Thank you for organizing everything. I’d be like a brain without a spine otherwise.”
Parinita was not sure that was what the spine did, but like animals, maybe Madiha just was not taught much about anatomy. She laughed a little to herself and held her peace.
Madiha sighed deeply.
“Why did you fall in love with me, Parinita?”
It was so sudden that Parinita couldn’t help but laugh nervously.
“This is not how you ask to go another round.” Parinita replied.
She felt her heartbeat swell a little.
At least she confirmed she was not only person with low self esteem in the room.
Madiha whispered a barely audible apology.
“Don’t be. I understand. After all, I’m such a catch. Seventy kilos of film trivia!”
She intended it in jest, but it came off more malicious.
“The sarcasm there saddens me.” Madiha said. “I was just thinking what an amazing person you are Parinita. It’s honestly still like a dream to me that we can be like this.”
Parinita held on to Madiha’s hand, laid on her waist.
“I’m sorry too.” Parinita said. “It’s just a weird question. Let me think about it.”
“There doesn’t have to be a reason I guess. It’s fine as long as we’re both in love.”
“You’re right, there really doesn’t need to be a reason. But I know you like to make sense of the unknowable in all your doings.” Parinita turned around in bed suddenly. She pushed herself a little so she would be at eye level with the rather taller Madiha.
Looking back into those eyes, so deeply, really brought back a lot of memories.
She remembered when she first saw Madiha, in Gowon’s office, the instant she walked into the room to be scolded and made a fool of. Parinita had to admit to herself that she had an awful dirty mind about the whole thing. Within the haze of stress and shame she felt as she was made Gowon’s scapegoat, Parinita thought Madiha was delectably tall, that she looked like she’d aced her PT, and that she had a pretty face to boot.
But she was not about to tell Madiha, “In between almost pissing myself about my boss turning me in, and the shelling, I briefly thought I wanted to fuck you when we met.”
Especially since she only had a few fleeting moments of arousal before a war started.
She recalled another scene however. Seeing Madiha running downhill with Parinita in tow, desperate to reach their comrades as the war started, desperate to mount a defense and to resist the tide of violence. She was in such a haze back then, everything was crazy, and their relationship seemed built on a foundation of such craziness, from Parinita’s superstition to Madiha’s actual supernatural power to their unequal rank in a military structure and to the violence and the threat of violence that pervaded their lives.
That day, however, she realized with a great sadness that Madiha was profoundly lonely. Profoundly, thoroughly, alone, in a world of her own that seemingly nobody understood. Some of it was Madiha’s own doing. She was so obsessed with doing right by others and so selfish in her own sacrifice. She was like that all of the time with everything that she did. She was so like that, she had not asked nor given room for Parinita to reciprocate her tonight, and they were already pretending to have completely wound down in bed.
It was that which, to Parinita, defined Madiha most. Her loneliness: she was unique in a lot of ways, but being unique only made her more alone. Being exceptional made her alone. Being needed of and demanded of, made her alone. And internalizing those things and putting them ahead of herself at all times, made her alone. She was alone because only she could understand herself; she was alone because she expected that only she herself could or should take on burdens and dangers alone. Alone and made alone.
Left to her own devices, Madiha would have died alone in Bada Aso and wanted to.
Parinita saw that in her on that day and throughout the glory and tragedy of Bada Aso.
She saw it in Rangda, at the formal start of their romantic relationship, too.
She even saw it now. Left to her own devices Madiha would die and die alone and want to.
And it vexed her. She wanted more than anything to accompany Madiha. She wanted her to not be alone; she wanted to penetrate that world of hers, to learn and know and see and feel and taste everything that was Madiha. Even if it meant to be the one other person alone with Madiha if that was what it took. Even if it hurt her; or hurt others.
When she saw those lonely eyes bent on their own self destruction, Parinita wanted to burn with her, to burn at her side. She wanted the glory, she wanted the tragedy, and she wanted the moments like this, of the profound peace of two alone individuals together.
Because she was alone too, and she saw the most kindred person in her life on that day.
Left to her own devices, Parinita would have died alone too.
And she would have wanted to.
Maybe that, too, was part of the craziness. Maybe that also did not make any sense.
Maybe it was contradictory.
Maybe it was selfish.
Maybe she concocted it in her own head out of nothing.
She loved Madiha.
“I like tall women with short hair, but not too short. I like them a little feminine.”
Madiha blinked hard and looked confused.
Parinita giggled. She felt such a surge of emotion looking at Madiha’s eyes.
She started to weep.
“I’m such an oaf, I’m sorry.” Madiha said. “I did not mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t.” Parinita settled down, still both giggling and weeping, and found the words. “Madiha, I fell in love with you, because when I see you trying your hardest to put the whole world on your shoulders and fall to the ground with it, I can’t help but get under there and grab, even though I’m fat and useless and can barely lift a chair anyway.”
She couldn’t help but throw in a little self deprecation.
Madiha drew her face closer to Parinita’s.
“You’re not useless and you’re not fat. You’re beautiful and smart and healthy.”
But she was weak, Parinita supposed. Nothing there about her lifting abilities.
Parinita giggled even harder.
“You are an oaf sometimes, Madiha Nakar! A big dumb oaf!”
She took hold of Madiha and was suddenly on top of her, a big grin on her face.
She threw her hair back, straddling Madiha.
She envisioned herself, towering over Madiha, nude, candle-lit red.
For once she thought, she must have looked glorious.
Her hands reached around Madiha’s hips, tracing teasing lines down her outer thighs.
Madiha looked up at her with a slowly broadening smile.
Leaning down, Parinita took Madiha into a kiss.
“I’m my turn to be on top now.”
Parinita pressed her weight atop Madiha, her fingers sliding from outer to inner thigh.
“I’d love that.” Madiha replied.
She was awkward but clearly enthusiastic.
That, too, was rare.
And Parinita loved it.
She loved it while she could.
Everyone on Solstice did.
They loved, feverishly and with haste, while they still could.
Ayvarta, Solstice City — Kuwba Oasis Resort
It was a brand new day in Solstice. Scarcely 0900 and the sun was already bearing down.
There was a good breeze, however, and the resort had a fresh, tropical scent to it.
In front of the hotel, the bride’s guests stood together, smiling and vibrant, waiting to be sent off. Gulab and Charvi had been a little late, but they looked brilliant, hand in hand, their faces glowing with warmth and joy. Parinita and Madiha were a picture perfect couple (though they would have insisted they were not if pried), recently showered and manicured by the staff, their clothes freshly ironed. They smiled knowingly at each other, wondering idly what had Gulab and Charvi so happy, but being too serene to pry.
Meanwhile, the bride had a rough night. Though dressed well in the complimentary sari and a midriff-bearing choli and skirt, silken and bright purple and blue and gold, Kremina Qote was pale in the face, her ponytail a touch disheveled. She had bags under her eyes and an unfriendly expression on her face. At her side, Daksha Kansal was calm and collected but her posture was a little unsteady and her eyes wandered. Both had clearly drank too much and had a tumultuous evening with the resulting illness.
“Thank you all for helping us celebrate our wedding as our honored guests.” Daksha said.
Kremina handed each of them a complimentary little gift of a lotus flower in a glass orb.
It was customary to treat the honored guests: in this case, the maid selected by the bride (Parinita,) the best man selected by the groom (Madiha) and the wedding shooters.
However, the grace and cheer with which they accepted their gifts only put the bride off.
“Good, good, yes. Very nice, thank you all, etcetera.” She hissed. “Young people are henceforth banned from this hotel! Nobody younger than me, nobody! I don’t want to see anyone under sixty years of age around me! Only old spent women trying to enjoy their honeymoon hangovers are allowed. Dismissed! Go have fun somewhere else. Goodbye!”
She practically shooed away the guests. Daksha looked away from the sight, and laughing and smiling, the two couples went their ways, as the bride and groom looked on.
There was a melancholy air about it, but they were proud and happy in their own way.
“Ugh. It’d be cliche to say, ‘those girls are our future’ or something, wouldn’t it?”
Kremina took a step closer to Daksha and held onto her arm, leaning into her side.
Daksha smiled and caressed her hair. “You could say that, but those girls already have another generation waiting in the wings that they’re going to be responsible for. Time moves too fast these days. It’s us who should have been leaving them soon; I wish we would have left them better than this. What was it Lena said? Communism in 10 years?”
“That was always optimistic.” Kremina said. “You’re not going to let her fight, are you?”
She had changed the subject very quickly. She was referring to Madiha, now.
“She will have her chance someday.” Daksha replied.
Kremina did not push the subject.
She was exhausted, but more than that, she was starved for affection.
“Daksha, I’m sorry for sleeping through our wedding night. Can I make it up to you?”
She reached around behind Daksha’s back and grabbed quite a handful of her rear.
Daksha silently and sternly took her by the shoulder and pulled her up into a kiss.
“You can make out with me.” Daksha said upon releasing her.
Kremina pushed herself back up into the kiss anew and with vigor.
“I’m thinking of a lot more than that.” She replied.
Neither wanted to govern right now, not just yet. For now, they were still just brides.
And the future was still, for just a little bit longer, on hold.
30th of the Hazel’s Frost 2030 DCE
Ayvarta, Solstice City — Kashlikraj, Civil Lodge
Basanti Rahani opened his eyes not in the officer’s barracks but in a sparsely furnished, cozy little private room. His hair had fallen over his eyes. It had gotten longer than he thought. He liked it. It was nice. Somewhere around the shoulder was a good length.
His hair, and his face, were slick with sweat. Solstice was so much hotter than Bada Aso.
Behind his back, he felt warmth, and a strong, comforting embrace.
One arm wrapped around his chest. He felt a kiss on his neck.
Meanwhile the other arm slinked around his waist. A hand cupped tight over his groin.
Rahani let out a delighted little giggle. He kept himself from becoming too excited.
“Breakfast and a shower first. Then we can go again.” Rahani said sternly.
“How long do we have the room for?”
Rahani turned around. He met his husband’s face and pecked his lips quickly.
“We’ve got a few hours.” Rahani said.
“I haven’t seen you in so long Santi. I really want you, you know?”
There was just something delectable about hearing his pet name said aloud again.
Naveen was an technician working with the Prajna super-heavy gun team, and Rahani was a field artillery officer, so their married life had been on and off and difficult. Before the war, Rahani had been angling for a promotion to work as part of the Prajna team. He was closer than ever to getting it; his team’s heroics in Bada Aso and Rangda were well recognized, and all of them were advancing to officer ranks themselves. Soon, Rahani would not be needed to guide them. He could move on to the next step in his career.
And more importantly, to the next step in his married life: seeing his husband every day.
For now, though, they still only saw each other during little escapades like this one.
They were patient; this was good enough. Rahani put on a salacious grin for his man.
“I know Naveen. But until you take a bath, I’m not going back down there for you.”
It was Rahani’s turn to grab somewhere and Naveen nearly jumped at the sensation.
He sucked in his lips briefly and smiled at Rahani, who had him under the sheets, subtly teasing him. Naveen had a precious face, angular and inviting. He and Rahani fit together like lock and key; Rahani’s small, slender softness and Naveen’s tall, round, thick beauty. Rahani truly wanted to just sink into him, but things had to be done appropriately. After all, Rahani was a very clean person, appearances mattered to him.
He wanted to make love fresh, comfortable, smelling like roses and in a pretty dress.
“Come on, if you let me dress up, you can dress me back down.” Rahani said.
Naveen smiled. “Ah, but it’s like pulling back the petals on a lotus flower, Santi. Sometimes its a shame. You dress up so well.” He raised a hand to Rahani’s chin. “Why not just stay here with me. I’m ready to go and you won’t even have to lift a finger.”
As much as the suggestion both appealed and made him cringe, Rahani said nothing.
Instead, Rahani caressed Naveen’s face also. They kissed one more time, this time pulling in each other’s lips for a little longer, enough to taste tongue. Then Rahani rolled out of bed. Behind him, Naveen laid back in the bed, a mixture of placid satisfaction and mild frustration in his face and actions. He crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling.
“If it’s too frustrating, I can dress up in the other room.” Rahani teased.
He had a fondness for feminine clothes, and in general cultivated a very feminine appearance, though he always thought of himself as more of a man, if he was anything at all. On some level, the genderedness of things was felt false to him, but he liked the idea of being a man with straight, silky hair, a delicate figure, a face done up with pigments, and a flower in his hair. From the clothes complimentary to the room, Rahani picked out a sari and a choli of humble make but with nice, bright colors, and a skirt to match. Donning sandals, and plucking a flower to pin with his hair, he bid Naveen wait for him.
Naveen, arms still crossed, continued to stare at the ceiling.
“Take a shower or I’ll be crueler than I have been! I promise!” Rahani said.
Naveen sighed but smiled at the doggedness of his self-styled wife. He got up.
Rahani stared at his bulky figure for one enticing moment before making himself go.
He was almost contemplating just showering with him and doing the deed there.
But proprieties separated the roses from the weeds! It would be worth waiting.
Besides which, he was actually hungry for more than his husband at that moment.
Outside the lodge, Kashlikraj was busy with traffic, the nearby roads choked with vehicles, and crowds on the streets and around the nearby buildings. Its newfound adjacency to the center of government power, after Daksha Kansal moved the central offices of the army to its vicinity, meant a lot more coming and going than the neighborhood had ever seen. It was already one of the newer and more modern of Solstice’s districts, at least circa 2015 when it was near completely redone.
Now with the introduction of many government workers and the conversion of the infrastructure to support them, Kashlikraj was turning into Solstice’s new nerve center.
There were some growing pains, exacerbated by the war.
As Rahani made his way across the street, he found the traffic shaped not solely by demand in the newly crowned district, but by something of a catastrophe. Looking over the line of decorative shrubbery along the street, Rahani saw a massive collapse in the center of the road, exposing water and electric veins and even some of the sewer. There was one civil guard slowly leading small traffic around the corner and past the affected area, and a road sign was put up forbidden the entry of large trucks for the moment.
Several such large trucks were parked on the street farther ahead, waiting.
Rahani approached the hole to get a closer look, and heard several people arguing.
“We’ve had our goods truck held up a block away for an hour now, surely you can’t be closing the entire neighborhood down for one hole can you?” asked an irate manager of some kind of state store. He was throwing his hands up in front of the civil guard.
“I had a truck with construction materials headed for the northern districts turned around and frozen for two hours now! I need you to release it to leave at once!” This second voice came from an older woman in overalls, waving a clipboard at the guard.
Between the two and several others, the civil guard seemed like a scared teenager surrounded by an angry mob. He couldn’t have been any older than Adesh was now.
The Guard crossed his arms and averted his gaze and spoke in an unsteady voice.
“I’m sorry, we’re very short staffed at the moment, we closed down the neighborhood roads and froze incoming heavy traffic to check for structural problems in the roads connecting to this one. I’m afraid I can’t personally redirect your vehicles anywhere. We’ve got some folks from the engineering college coming in soon and if they think the connecting roads are good enough then everyone can go on their way promptly.”
Rahani felt sorry for the whole lot of them. All of the experienced construction workers and civil engineers were farther south, helping build the earthworks and camps and other defenses against the incoming Noctish forces. All they could spare were students to help fix the roads, and because Kashlikraj was suddenly so important, everyone involved with this problem was twice as paranoid as they needed to be about safety and security. The Civil Guard had been heavily tapped for more military power, too, so the average age and experience of the patrolmen and women of Solstice had dropped dramatically.
Rahani wondered if the person back at the guard outpost calling the shots on this was also younger than him and frightened to death at the prospect of more failing roads.
“For god’s sake man! Just let us turn around and we’ll redirect through Yoruba instead!”
“I’m afraid I can’t release any of the vehicles right now. I’m sorry. I’m following orders.”
Around the Guard the crowd grew increasingly agitated. Rahani did not think that a fight would start, but he knew the Guard was under a lot of pressure and that everyone would lean on him to get their side of the affair done, or harass him until he fled responsibility. It was an ugly insight into the way their daily lives strained under the weight of the war. Solstice was understaffed and overwhelmed; Rahani was only given respite because he had already faced two deadly battles with his unit. Otherwise, he’d be straining too.
Rahani turned away from the scene and headed for the civil canteen across the street.
He would pick up some bread and lentils, milk and yogurt, and run back to the lodge.
The first clue that his plans were about to go awry was that the Canteen windows did not have a fresh basket of the day’s ingredients. Wilted greens and some day old fermenting yogurt sat in a forlorn half-empty basket on the storefront. The Canteen was nearly deserted, with only one teenage girl on staff who was sitting behind the front counter with her head on her hands. Rahani walked in and found the banquet tables nearly empty. On a normal day they were stuffed with the day’s goods and arrayed neatly along the sides and corners of the store. Today, many tables were packed up in one corner.
Not to say there was not any food. There was fresh bread, a pot of yellow lentils, a jar of dried fruits and sugared dried fruits, and two serving jugs of clean and carbonated water. There was no yogurt, milk, vegetables, fruit juice or paneer. It was the most barren that Rahani had seen a civil canteen in a major city like this, and it scared him.
At the sight of a customer, the girl looked up and tried to put on a smile, but it was clear that she was under a lot of stress today. God knows how many hungry and irritable people she had to deal with today. It must been such a shock to her and to everybody, to come into a Canteen without food in the Socialist Dominances of Solstice. In Solstice City itself no less! He had to wonder as to the cause of this. Had the war caught up this fast?
The Canteen Girl picked up a hole puncher and bid Rahani to come closer.
“Hujambo!” She definitely had a teenage girl’s voice and stature. Rahani smiled back. She snapped the hole puncher in the air. “Sorry comrade, normally we don’t really insist on this much, but they’re really tightening the regulations so I’m going to need to punch your meal card today. You can take anything you want though, don’t worry.”
“Can I take out a card?” Rahani asked nervously. He had left all his things except a little money, in case it was needed, back at the lodge. He expected to walk in and walk out.
Everyone had become accustomed to it in recent years.
Across the desk, the girl averted her gaze. “I’m really not supposed to do this anymore, but I really like your flower and dress, so I’ll make an exception.” She said.
She gave him a little smile and passed him a meal card with one hole punched already.
There were two holes for each day for one week. Rahani was surprised.
It was a much tighter rationing system, one that could change week to week!
“Miss, is this your card? I’m not sure–”
“The Staff eat all the leftovers anyway, so its fine.” She said. “I took it out for myself yesterday and nobody’s checking the numbers yet. Just get one yourself soon. You can’t just pick them up at the canteen anymore. There’s specific times at the local Council.”
“Thank you.” Rahani said.
“Enjoy the bread. I made it myself.”
“By any chance, do you know when you’re scheduled to receive more food?”
In response the girl nodded her head toward the east.
“We’re supposed to have a truck coming. I don’t know what’s happening with it. Don’t expect fresh fruit or veggies for the rest of the week though. We’re making do with dried sugared fruits and canned palms and mushrooms and stuff like that for now.”
Rahani picked up a box and grabbed some bread, a few cups of lentils, some of the fruits and some plain water, and walked back out. On the street, the guard was putting up some caution tape and standing behind it so nobody could come near him, and turned his back on the small crowd of irate people looking for an answer. Everyone politely declined to jump the tape and bash him; it was still Ayvarta even if they were all mad, and they limited their frustrations to shouting. Nobody had descended to savagery.
Staring down at his box of food and the diminished offerings at the Canteen, Rahani wondered, with fear deep in his heart. Did the same desperation he felt to love his husband and to drink of him all that he could, while he still could, extend to everyone else around him? Without knowing it, was this city beginning to live its last days? How would that desperation grow? Would it remain kind and naive? Would it turn wretched?
Nobody was jumping the caution tape to hit the young, rookie guard. Yet.
All of that vanished from Rahani’s mind as soon as he entered the lodge again.
His desperation grew suddenly greater. He felt, fearfully, that he was living his last days.
He heard the shower going off, and with a swelling feeling in his chest, he stripped off all his clothes and ran into the bathroom. He saw Naveen in the shower and ran to him and threw himself at his back, hugging his waist. Naveen tensed up briefly, then relaxed; Rahani could feel the stirring of his muscles and girth and the softening of him, and he wanted to cry. As the warm water descended upon them, some tears did escape.
“I was missing you already.” Naveen said, in good humor.
He reached behind his back and squeezed Rahani’s hip. Rahani smiled against his back.
“I missed you too.”
35th of the Hazel’s Frost 2030 DCE
Ayvarta, Solstice City — Krashlikraj, The 10th Head
Madiha Nakar threw open the door to Daksha Kansal’s office, fuming.
Behind her, Cadao Chakma, the defense minister, looked insignificantly small.
Opposite them, Daksha Kansal sat behind her desk. She had been in conference with the diplomat from Helvetia, Larissa Finesse, but Madiha had not heeded Minister Chakma’s warnings to remain outside, and barged in suddenly. Larissa raised a skeptical eyebrow upon seeing her, and Daksha sighed and frowned as if she knew what was happening.
“Premier, I demand an explanation for why Marshal Vikramajit came out of retirement to lead the First Solstice Front. As a General I don’t believe this to be a wise course–”
“Did you have ambitions for the position?” Daksha replied. “That’s new.”
Madiha blinked, confused. “New?”
“You’re normally so passive and obedient.” Daksha said.
They were talking almost like mother and daughter. Larissa looked confused.
And yet they carried on the theater in front of her and Chakma anyway.
“I’m sorry ma’am, I tried to stop her–”
“It’s not your fault, Cadao.” Daksha said.
Madiha crossed her arms and grumbled. She was trying to center herself and failing. Everyone could see the fire in her eyes. “I had several glowing recommendations from various officers and volunteered for the position. I even submitted a detailed plan. I think, to pass me over for a man enjoying his retirement is an unduly harsh reprimand.”
“We passed you over because you are needed here in Solstice and your ideas are not needed on the front right now.” Daksha said. “We are not mounting a counteroffensive.”
“My plan has been meticulously researched and is realistic to our strength! Tell me what Vikramajit has done that makes him appear suitable to lead the war for our lives!”
Madiha was shouting.
Daksha sighed and rubbed her own forehead. “We’re not talking about this. You will train the Solstice garrison for now and build up your Mechanized unit. You’re the only one here with relevant frontline combat experience and a glowing academy record. We need you here. For god’s sake most of our army is younger than you right now. Leave the heroics to them for now and focus on rebuilding our officer cadres! We need you!”
The Premier was becoming emotional. Every ‘we need you’ was hoarser than the last.
“Now dismissed!” Daksha shouted.
“With all due respect ma’am–” Madiha shouted back.
“You’re not showing me any respect with your attitude, Madiha. Out! Now!”
Madiha turned her back furiously, swiping her hand at the desk in frustration.
One of Daksha’s pictures fell from the desk in response, for some mysterious reason.
Cadao Chakma bowed profusely and then followed Madiha out the door.
Daksha’s head sank into her hands.
“Oh, this is a shame.”
Larissa picked up the remains of the frame and the photo and put it on the desk.
It was a picture of Daksha, dressed in her cloak and worker overalls, what she wore as a bandit in Bada Aso. On her shoulders rode a precociously tall but still clearly child-like Madiha Nakar, aged 8 or 9 or 10 — who could really know? Madiha was dressed in her own little overalls with a newsboy cap, and had her delivery girl satchel with her.
“You should get this reframed. It’s a beautiful photo.” Larissa said.
“I will.” Daksha replied.
Larissa looked back over her shoulder at the closed door.
“Do you feel like you have to protect her?” Larissa asked.
“This country can’t keep standing on her back. Even if she will keep letting it.”
Daksha put the photo in a drawer and turned her full attention back to Larissa.
“We’ve exploited Madiha Nakar enough. We’ve exploited all our youth enough. It’s time for tired old women to make tired old women decisions for the future of these kids.”
“I see.” Larissa said. She seemed, for once, sympathetic toward the Premier. “In that case, let us resume. We were talking about your oil and gold for our industrial equipment–”
“Yes, let’s get back to it.”
This was all for the best, Kansal told herself.
It absolutely had to be.