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It was late in afternoon when a knock sounded on High Priest Aaron Stowe's office door.
Shadows swallowed the room, as they always did once the sun began to set. The high walls around Quill made an early artificial night, even though the sky was still light enough to see by. For the Wanteds, this signalled the end of their drills in the Quillitary camp, or to return home from their work station, or back to the dormitory, for the University students. The Necessaries would continue their work for a few hours more before they were allowed to return home.
Aaron, though he was a Wanted, tended to work later than most. He had a nation to run, after all. He took his meals in his office alone while he pondered what to do next. Now that Artimé had been razed down to nothing more than a barren plot of land, he could finally focus on building Quill back up to something great.
Sometimes his imagination wandered, alone in his shadowed room. He wondered if Alex was doing the same, pondering what came next. Now that he knew that Alex was alive, it was hard to entirely block him out of his mind. He wished his brother wasn't an unknown variable trying to get in his way. He wondered what Alex was eating, if he was even eating at all.
It served him right, for being Unwanted. Aaron wanted Alex dead and buried and out of his mind, and if starvation was the way for that to happen, then so be it.
The knock made him jump, his fork clattering onto the empty plate. How long had he been holding it up, twisting it in his hands, watching the reflections change in the low light of the candle?
Aaron fixed the fork, placing it just so next to the plate. Collected. Calm. He stilled his racing heart and called, “Come in."
He tried to keep the grumble out of his voice. Who was interrupting him at the end of his day? Sure, he was going to stay up for a while longer, but this was ridiculous and inappropriate.
The door creaked open—he’d have to yell at someone to get that fixed soon—and Henry Haluki poked his head in, backlit by the lights in the hallway.
“Aaron,” he said evenly, stepping in and bowing slightly. Good, Aaron thought. The kid has some manners, at least.
“Good evening, Henry,” Aaron replied.
“I just wanted to report that my classes have been...” He looked away, pressing his lips into a thin line as he tried to find the right word. “Sufficient.” He bowed again, deeper this time. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to advance ahead of my peers. May Quill prevail when the strong survive.”
“May Quill prevail,” Aaron echoed, then frowned slightly. “Sufficient? Not...good?”
Henry's blue eyes went wide. Good heavens, he looked like his father. Aaron tried not to think about the way Gunnar Haluki had stared at the gun in his hands. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to make them seem worse than they actually are.” He cleared his throat quickly. “The classes are very informative. I’m learning many things. The nurses are very skilled at explaining the workings of the body. You wanted me to report to you so you could make sure it was enough for me to handle. And...it is.”
Aaron nodded numbly, thinking back to his own University days before he got kicked out. Stupid Alex. He hadn't been on track to be a medical student, what with his incoming apprenticeship as the new Secretary, and before he could stop himself, he asked, “What have they been teaching you?”
“All sorts of things,” Henry said, his eyes lighting up in the flicker of the candle. He closed the door behind him and walked in front of Aaron’s desk, pointing at his arm. “I joined a bit late in the course, but I’ve been catching up quickly. Did you know that the bones in your forearm—the ulna and the radius—are connected with a membrane between them?” He gently squeezed his arm between the bones. “And when you twist it, like so—” He twisted his hand back and forth, keeping his elbow in place. “The bones twist, too. It’s hard to explain, but your ulna’s always on the outside of your palm, and your radius is always on the inside.” Aaron tried to ignore the slight smile on Henry’s face. “You wouldn’t think that your bones would twist around each other like that, but they do.”
“Mmm,” Aaron replied. He glanced down at his own wrist, trying to pick out the lines of the bones beneath the skin.
“And, and!” Henry gestured to his whole arm. “Did you know that our arms are structured the same as a cow’s leg, and even a bird’s wing? It’s all the same bones and muscles, just altered slightly.”
The same bones and muscles as a bird’s wing. All Aaron could picture was Alex crouched on the ground, holding out a chicken’s wing bone towards him, the rain pelting down on them. The muscles in his wrist, tightening in unfamiliar ways, that he’d used when he drew that triangle with the box underneath it.
Henry was still talking, but Aaron didn’t pick up on any of the words he said as he began to pace around in front of Aaron’s desk, trying to list off all the things he had been learning lately. The kid was incredibly intelligent, Aaron had to admit. He had only been in the class for a few weeks, but he had already caught right up to the other students—all of which were many years older than him.
An unwanted emotion bubbled in Aaron’s gut. Jealousy? Was he jealous that Henry’s intelligence was being acknowledged? No, surely not. Aaron had acknowledged it himself, after all, and he was always right. Was he jealous that Henry had gotten lucky enough to draw Aaron’s eye, to be part of his team? The kid deserved the advancement, clearly; it had nothing to do with his family. They had both had to overcome an Unwanted sibling, but while Aaron had Necessary parents to improve upon, Henry came from Wanted stock. Was that really so different? No. So he wasn’t jealous. He was just... What was the word to use? Not quite glad. Relieved that he could help this child’s knowledge be useful to Quill, just as his had.
So what was fueling his growing distaste for the kid? Maybe it was something in the way Henry smirked as he talked, the way he paced back and forth. This wasn’t allowed. If Aaron was a good Wanted, a good Quillen, then he would be smart and report Henry right now so he could be Purged. It was what he deserved. He was breaking the rules.
But something about that made him feel even worse. If he Purged Henry, then the kid would end up in Alex’s clutches, an intelligent kid in a creative world. He didn’t belong there. He would work against Aaron, when he could be working for Aaron. Besides, he was just a kid, Aaron reminded himself. Kids were like that sometimes. That’s why kids ended up Unwanted.
Alex had been like that. Alex had been worse than that. Alex had been just a kid, when he was declared Unwanted.
And anyways, who would Aaron report Henry to? Himself? And if he sent him to the Ancients Sector right now... Well. That would be a waste of intelligence and knowledge, wouldn’t it? After all, Quill prevailed when the strong survived. Henry’s mind was strong. So, he would survive.
The boy continued talking, never even pausing for breath. Aaron wished someone would listen to him like this. Or, well, he wasn’t really listening, but it didn’t matter. Henry thought he was listening, so he just kept talking. What was he on about now? The stomachs of cattle, why they could digest grass but humans couldn't? Aaron tuned back out.
It made him think about the courses that he had found interesting. Aaron missed learning. He missed being in University, the structure it had given him, and his small, bland room, with no decisions to make. He loved making decisions, but it was so much easier when his whole life had already been figured out for him. He just had to come up with ideas every now and then.
Ideas. That word sounded too creative, too Unwanted. Plans, maybe, would be more fitting. He had to make plans of how to make Quill more productive. Yes, that was it.
Ideas made him think too much about the triangle in the dirt with the box under it. Henry’s face, glancing back at Aaron every now and then as he spoke, made him think too much about the way Alex had looked at him as the rain stuck his unruly curls to his face, and the mud on his hands as he held out the bone, and the way Aaron had clutched the shovel like it would save him.
How long had he been holding onto his fork? When had he picked it up? The tendons in his wrist popped out uncomfortably. He let it go and set it down onto his plate once more with a clink.
Henry startled, then stood up straight in front of Aaron. “My apologies, Mister High Priest, sir. I didn’t mean to continue talking. That was out of line.” He bowed again, quickly, just once. It was sloppier this time. “I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening. Thank you, again, for allowing me to learn. May Quill prevail with all I have in me.”
Aaron nodded, murmuring, “You may be excused.”
Henry rushed out of the room, the door creaking on his way out. It reminded Aaron of the way his University dorm door had creaked that night, when Alex stepped through and pulled him into another world.
The sky was dark now, and the Necessaries shuffled home in the streets below his palace. He snuffed out the candle on his desk. He needed to go to bed.