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Relena was running late.
“The shuttle leaves in twenty minutes, minister.”
“I know,” she murmured back, ignoring her assistant’s pinched expression hovering in the doorway. Relena’s lips tightened as she stared at the computer screen, ignoring the urgency pumping through her veins. Twenty minutes was not enough time.
A short sigh let Relena know her assistant was giving up, and Relena reclaimed her seat, already feeling guilty. Two minutes, she promised herself, tapping the delete button a little harder than necessary. She just needed two minutes, and she just didn’t trust herself to be strictly professional while navigating a crowded spaceport and typing this out on her phone. Yikes, the word redundant was still in there.
It was just that Representative Singh was being so unreasonable—
The door clicked opened again.
Relena’s mouth opened on a sound she already knew she’d regret.
And then the words simply...disappeared.
For a split second, everything was just...gone.
It wasn’t her assistant’s small frame filling the doorway.
It was...her brother.
“Milliardo?” Relena said, breathless.
Her mind tried to protest that it couldn’t be him. What? What was he—? How long had— Milliardo—
The details were all coming into focus, assembling the reality piece by incomprehensible piece. He wore small reflective glasses that hid his eyes, some nondescript Preventers jacket…his hair though…it ran down his back like a banner.
“What—“ Relena tried to say. Her heart was in her throat now, making it hard to push through air. What was he doing here? “I mean,” she started to say, still reeling, still trying to parse one feeling from the next. Offering coffee felt like a pitiful default. “I mean to say—“
“I can’t stay long,” he interrupted, and Relena’s shoulders sagged. Her hands fell off her keyboard, into her lap. She nodded.
“Okay.”
Milliardo sensed the opening, taking off the sunglasses as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. She couldn’t tell if she imagined the shadow of her assistant hovering just in the anteroom. Relena watched as he crossed the small office to her desk, so simple, taking one of the chairs across from her, sitting, crossing one long leg over the other. Simple. Easy. As if this was some casual thing, just some friendly visit of a...of a family member.
Goodness.
“I’m going to Mars.”
A small puff of laughter escaped her lips.
“Of course you are.”
She saw the way his skin tightened around his eyes, as if it was...under the threat of a smile. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him, the last time they’d had any contact at all. Relena couldn’t even remember the last time she’d...she’d thought of him, honestly. Her semi-regular interactions with Preventers would sometimes remind her that he worked amongst their ranks, but she never (not more than once or twice, surely) thought to inquire about him.
And this was her brother.
Relena dropped her head.
“You’re going to Mars?” she asked.
He nodded. “I am. I came to tell you.”
Relena nodded in kind, breathing carefully to soothe her racing heart. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
They descended into sharp silence. Milliardo sighed.
Relena stared at her lap. Thinking and breathing were getting easier now, as she cast about for something to say. Surely it shouldn’t be this hard but, but – goodness, they just hadn’t seen each other. It occurred to her now that apart from sending holiday cards they had just – they had just laughable levels of contact. And yet he was here. Telling her he was going to Mars.
“I also wanted to tell you that…” she heard Milliardo say, and Relena looked up. “I wanted to tell you that...you did everything right.”
His voice was slightly roughened when he said it, like there was some strain, or some – oh goodness. Relena felt her own throat thicken, surprise or something like it making her weak.
“You did everything correct,” he went on. “And you did well. Your parents – and our parents – they would be...proud.”
Oh, she couldn’t…this was too much. The absurdity of the moment crashed into her, like an ocean wave on a sandy beach. Had he...had he...Relena had to close her eyes for a moment. Had he come here just to say this?
Relena looked into his face, now bare to her with the glasses off. She saw the same color eyes staring back at her. Relena wanted to ask, suddenly, if he knew which ancestor had gifted them. She wanted to know which likeness they bore. Whether Milliardo also ground his teeth when he slept, or liked raspberry éclairs, or always squeezed his thumb inside his fist when he knew he was right about something but was in a room full of doubters, and – Oh goodness. Right. Representative Singh.
Relena looked back at her computer.
“Not everything,” she sighed, and she wasn’t sure whether he heard, until the air between them shifted.
He flicked something off the leg of his pants. “You’ll figure it out with Representative Singh,” he said, and Relena felt herself straighten a bit. How did he —
Milliardo sighed. “I have to go,” he said, and Relena came back to herself. Right. Her shuttle. She was going to miss it, probably, her poor assistant probably stressed beyond relief.
And yet.
Relena bit her lower lip.
“Why did you—why did you think to tell me?” she asked.
Milliardo was still sitting in her chair, sliding his fingers together, his wrist propped on his bent knee.
“About going to Mars,” she clarified. Milliardo offered just the barest of shrugs.
“I just figured that you should...know.”
Relena worked hard not to furrow her brow. That she should know? But then— Meaning dumped into her, the unspoken second half of his sentence. In case.
Goodness…what a morose thought. Their family tree was so small already. The tightness of the moment no longer seemed to matter.
“What will you do there?” she continued, helpless to the words leaving her mouth.
Another small, infinitesimal shrug.
“Help.”
She didn’t want him to leave, she realized. Relena inhaled half a breath. “With Preventers?”
Milliardo looked at her, again with that cool, expressionless gaze, and she prepared for the rough sound of his voice. She wished, honestly, that they were closer.
Somewhere in her house, she still owned the photograph of the smiling boy he’d been, cradling herself as his newborn sister. Did the photographer know what would become of them, holding the camera on that sunlit day? No. They couldn’t have known. The years between moments stretched out between them. How many battles they had taken part in. How much pain and suffering they’d caused. How many deaths they were responsible for, directly or indirectly. Relena took a shuddering breath, not breaking his stare, and her brother answered.
“Something like that.”
Relena nodded. An awkward silence descended, Relena having no idea what to fill it with.
She suddenly remembered what he’d said when he came in – they would be proud. A surprised smile lifted the corners of her lips. Her cheeks warmed. “Will you,” she started to say, but she had to wet her dry lips. “Will you...go alone?”
The question embarrassed her, somewhat, and she realized it shouldn’t maybe; this was her brother. Whatever feelings were maybe mirrored within him though, the amused smirk lifting one slight corner of his lips.
“No,” he answered, cryptic, and she got the sense that he was being...teasing. “Lieutenant Noin is coming with me,” he added, like he was taking pity on her.
Relena mostly managed to suppress the answering smile. How truly absurd, this whole thing. She nodded instead.
There was a knock on the door.
“Minister,” her assistant murmured, so quiet, so much quieter than she’d been earlier. “The...the shuttle.”
Relena and Milliardo looked at each other, weighing the moment. Relena was the first to break.
“I should go,” she said, and she stood, feeling a slight tremble in her legs she wasn’t sure what to do with.
Milliardo stood too. “Yes. I need to be on my way.”
Was it a lie? Years of political maneuvering gave her a second sense for it, and…it felt like a lie, somehow.
Relena shifted her glance from her assistant to her brother.
“Well,” he continued, holding his sunglasses in one hand. “Until…” he seemed to struggle to finish the sentence. In case.
Relena set her shoulders. “Until,” she agreed, and Milliardo’s mouth tightened in response, not unkind. He nodded.
Should they hug? Should they shake hands?
They would be proud of you.
Milliardo turned towards the door, his hair sliding with the movement. Relena’s assistant ducked her head when he passed, some sort of deference, almost.
Relena’s skin went tight all over again. Her assistant—how had she—how had she known? How had she known what Milliardo was, that he was just allowed access, that— No, Relena reasoned. His jacket, his credentials had probably opened the door. His height and strong chin had likely taken care of any lingering doubts.
“Ma’am, we have to go,” her assistant pleaded, and Relena knew Milliardo was gone. Gone. Relena shook off the strange feelings, resolutely pushing aside the words exchanged until she had a more private moment. The shuttle.
“Yes,” she agreed, reaching for the papers on her desk. Her assistant was moving too now, collecting things Relena could barely see, and Relena picked up her mobile phone and nodded when Martha made eye contact. Time to go.
They walked briskly in silence into the bustling building outside her office, her assistant flashing and swiping her badge at the appropriate checkpoints. A private ministry tram was waiting to take them to the spaceport; it was a four minute trip along the rail system. Martha was holding Relena’s folio. Relena would have to finish the email to Representative Singh on the flight. Her mind felt fractured, somehow, she was distracted, staring out the windows when they were safely inside the private rail car.
The quiet of the space pressed in on them.
“How…” Relena found herself asking, ignoring the movement of the world outside their window. “How did you know…?”
Her assistant glanced at her from the corner of her eye. Anxiety pulled at her features.
“I thought everyone knew,” she answered, quiet, and Relena felt the weight of the words settle inside her chest. Yes. Everyone knew. Milliardo had – he’d done that for her, hadn’t he. Her face tightened as she thought of him, announcing his heritage to the world, so many years ago; vilifying himself so that she could…so she could do this. So she could work with Representative Singh.
So she could make the world a better place.
She was buckling her seatbelt when she realized that they had, in fact, made the shuttle, and Relena had no memory of the last half of their journey.
Ignoring her assistant, who was settling into the next seat with Relena’s folio… She looked out the window, again seeing the distant stars. They were headed back to Earth. Relena’s gaze shifted. She wondered when she would see her brother again. She wondered whether he would be able to receive her cards so easily on Mars. She wondered if she should visit.
Relena leaned back in her chair, grasping the armrests.
So much, and yet…
He was her brother. And he’d come to tell her.