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Gunnar Haluki, senior governor of Quill, brings a group of Unwanteds to the gates of the Death Farm. The open sky makes his heart ache. He can’t remember why.
The governors are tasked with visiting the Death Farmer every year, which they call the “biannual governors’ visit.” Gunnar doesn’t point out that for it to be biannual, they’d have to actually go in on Purge day.
He doesn’t remember why he’s the senior governor. He’s not that much older than any of the others.
They visit the Death Farmer. His name is Marcus. His eyes don't leave Gunnar's for even a second.
He shoots a man dead in Quill. He’d come to his doorstep with his own makeshift knife, rabid and ranting about his Unwanted child, the government’s inhumanity. The gun bucks in Gunnar’s hand, but he hardly flinches as it goes off.
The biannual governors’ visit again. Gunnar thinks that he sees flashes of... He’s not sure what. Something unruly, at the edges of the landscape, like a mirage. The Great Lake of Boiling Oil bubbles.
One of the other governors—he can never quite remember their names—asks if he's thought about getting a wife. Gunnar shrugs. He could be a father, although he’s never really thought about it before. What would it be like, to raise a kid? He doesn't remember his own childhood.
He catches Secretary’s eye, sometimes, in meetings. She never says anything. Her gaze is cold and dead.
He visits Marcus again. His hair is always the same bone white color, but his eyes look older, more exhausted, each year.
Rather than burying the bones in his backyard, he keeps one in his pocket. He gives it to one of the stray dogs as he makes his rounds, standing at the edge of the Desolation, looking at the high wall shadowing his world, and Marcus’s gate.
It’s the biannual governors’ visit again. As the other governors complain about the food quality in Quill, Marcus pulls Gunnar into the kitchen, spinning him around, just once.
The flash of a gun, the splatter of blood, the metallic scent. Like before the metal rusted. Like when Quill was still new. The dust settles on it like a swarm of ants.
Maybe he should let sleeping dogs lie, not add fuel to whatever fire is deep within him, but he knows where Justine keeps the key.
The moon is witness to all, her searchlight gaze cut up by the barbed wire up above.
It was all an illusion, it was all a lie, he sobs into Marcus’s robe. The memories give him a migraine. It’s worth it, he thinks.
He marries a woman younger than him, born and raised in Quill. Justine's insistence. Her eyes are a warm hazel color, like her personal name. Now she’s just Mrs. Haluki. He’s genuinely shocked he’s remembered his own name this long.
How could he ever forget it? The way it sounded in Marcus’s mouth?
There’s a tube in his office closet, now. Hazel isn’t allowed to go in there. He tries to use it sparingly, but he likes to see the magic that dances at Marcus’s fingertips and the things that he’s built. He promised Gunnar a better future, once. He’s only just now making good on that.
They name their first child Lani, sky, like freedom beyond that blasted barbed wire ceiling. Her eyes are just as blue. She looks just like him. He will not let her be like him.
Gunnar used to enjoy being Marcus’s attack dog, didn’t he? Sit. Stay. Maybe it’s fitting when Marcus gives him the ability to change into a wolf. His heart longs to go back to the days where he was part of a pack he’d chosen. The other governors come and go so quickly these days.
He wears the charm around his neck, hidden, next to his heart.
They name their second child Henry. Hazel's choice, this time. Gunnar is willing to compromise. It’s all he can do to compensate for all the rules he’s breaking, and all his betrayals.
Each biannual governors’ visit, he feels his heart twist as Marcus looks at him over the table through his white eyelashes. Justine never kept the smart governors. These ones are none the wiser.
It gets harder and harder to hide his nights spent with Marcus. Hazel’s started looking at him suspiciously. He knows he wakes Lani in the night, even if she keeps it secret.
He admits he messed up, finally. The argument’s so bad that Marcus had to seal them in the Museum of Large, where he keeps all his curios. Is Gunnar just another one of them? A curiosity collected from another land? He’s just glad to hear an apology leave Marcus’s lips for once, even if he knows it’s not genuine. It never is.
Hazel found the charm. Or, rather, Lani did. She holds it out in front of him. He offers her anything she wants, as long as she keeps it secret. She looks away.
Each time he drops Unwanteds off at Marcus’s doorstep, he searches for a glimpse of the white-haired boy who offered him an escape. He never emerges before the governors leave, though. It’s just as well. He doesn’t feel bad about it anymore.
He gets to know Marcus’s other creations. They’re each as messed up and aggressive as he is, deep down. He’s just better at hiding it. What a good Quillen he is.
He takes Lani to learn how to shoot a gun. She’s older than he was when he learned. Her hands do not quiver.
He does not feel bad when he takes her to her death, despite the tears in her eyes, the way she fights the chains. He does not feel bad when he hands her over to the man who promised him so much. Is he saving lives by being complicit in this? Is it washing his hands clean? His teeth feel sharp before the change, nowadays.