Editing Eternity (Warhammer High) (section)

=== A Learning Experience ===


The wall of the mansion loomed over the guest before it.  Dieter stared up at the wrought-metal railings around the huge porch and tried not to look out of his depth.  It was only his second time on the surface.

Jake’s suggestion that the guys congregate at his home for poker next time had been well-received, and Dieter was the first of the hiver guests to arrive.  He was several minutes early; he had departed the hive ahead of schedule so he wasn’t in danger of getting lost.  During the whole trip to the house, the factory worker had been trying to calm his nerves, telling himself that he was just visiting an old friend.

That seemed paltry in front of the casual display of wealth all around him.  Casting his eyes around for something familiar, he spotted some metalworking tools on the swing several meters to the left on the broad, covered porch.  He started to walk over to them to see if he could figure out what they were out for when the door swung open.

His gaze jumped to the side to spot a young man standing in the door.  The boy looked up at him with confusion on his face, but Dieter barely noticed his expression.  The kid’s eyes were solid, glowing red.

“Uh, hi,” the kid said.  His voice was surprisingly deep for his age.  “Are you here for Dad’s game?”

Dieter managed to find his voice.  “Yeah.  Er, yeah, I am,” he said.  “Am I here too early?”

“A bit, but he’s around,” the kid said, waving distractedly behind himself.  He walked out on the porch, ignoring Dieter’s stunned expression, and headed for the tools.  “Ah, crud, I left this out on the porch again…Mom’ll be pissed,” he muttered to himself.

“Uh, can you tell me where your Dad is?” Dieter asked.

The kid pointed into the house with one hand.  “First floor, back room.”

Dieter looked through the front door, awkwardness holding him back.  “Can you show me where it is?  I’ve never been here before,” he said.

The kid sighed under his breath and straightened up.  “Sure.”  Dieter followed him into the building, noting how much he looked like his father.  Aside from the freaky eyes, he looked almost exactly like Jake had when they were in middle school together.

The house was massive, but simply decorated.  Small metal and stone tokens hung on the walls, held up by invisible wires.  A few holos of people and Astartes dotted some tables and wall frames, but mostly the walls were bare white.  Here and there, flowers in vases added blotches of color to the home.  In one room they passed, there was a small statue of twisted metal bars that looked like it belonged in a museum.  A surprisingly large amount of weaponry decorated racks and cases in the halls, most of it highly ornate.

Finally, they reached the back room.  Jake was there, brushing off a low felt table.  He looked up when the boy and the hiver entered.  “Hey, N’bel…Dieter!  Good to see you,” he said.  He dropped the brush and crossed the room, shaking Dieter’s hand.  “Glad you could come.”

Dieter forced a smile past his nerves.  “Wouldn’t miss it.”  Jake turned back to the table and grabbed a placemat pile, so Dieter took his chance to examine his new surroundings.

This room was the polar opposite of the rest of the house.  The whole room was packed with crap, centered around a gargantuan holo on one wall.  There were a few cogitators around, including several gaming computers, along with stacks and stacks of board games and art supplies.

N’bel fidgeted at the door.  “Dad, can I go clean up the project I was working on?” he asked.

His father nodded from behind the table.  “Sure thing.  Thanks.  If anyone else gets here, call me on the intercom, if they don’t know where to go,” he said.

“Sure.”  N’bel closed the door behind him as he walked back to the porch.

Dieter cleared his throat.  “So…this is a hell of a place,” he said awkwardly.

“Thanks.”  Jake finished distributing placemats and reached for some plates.  “Venus and I designed it,” he said.  “We wanted to build fresh when we moved back.  Thirsty?”

His old friend nodded.  “Yeah, I could use a drink.”

Jake pointed at a small refrigerator in one corner.  “Help yourself.”

Dieter opened it up and stared at the bewildering array of drinks and food inside.  “Uh, what’s good?”

“The purple one is awesome, if sweet.  The boys love it,” Jake called over.  Dieter dutifully grabbed one and closed it.  “So how have you been?”

“Good,” Dieter replied, popping the bottle open.  “Busy.  I hear one of your sisters-in-law bought my factory,” he said.

“So it was yours?  Thought so,” Jake said.  “Yeah.  Cora.  She’s expanding her businesses like mad right now.”

The door swung open again.  Another boy, this one much smaller, wandered in, glancing around in irritation.  “Daddy, have you seen my bag?” he asked.

“Uh, the green one?  It’s on the table by the front door,” Jake said.  “What do you need?”

“I thought I put my glasses in it, but I found them on my table in my room,” the kid said.  “So I don’t know what’s in it.”

“A deadly situation,” Jake said, mock-seriously.  “Dieter, this is my second son, Carmine.  Carmine, this is my old friend from high school, Dieter.  He’s here for the game.”

“Hi,” Carmine said, looking over.  Dieter nodded politely.  The shorter boy – who also had incredibly bright eyes, Dieter saw – looked back to his father.  “Oh, Uncle Thangir is here, too,” he said.  “I saw his car from my room.”

“Cool, show him in when you grab the bag, would you please?” Jake asked.  “I need to finish setting up.”

“Okay.”  The boy walked down the hall, already waving to someone outside.

Dieter sat down, placing his drink on a coaster.  The stuff was sweet, all right, like a soda, only with a distinctly bitter aftertaste.  He didn’t much care for it.  He looked around for something to fill the air.  “So…N’bel and Carmine?” he asked.  “I think I remember those names from before.”

Jake smiled fondly.  “Yeah.  N’bel’s nearly fifteen, Carmine’s a hair over nine.”

“That’s cool,” Dieter said.  He fingered the tiny metal band around his own finger.  “I got engaged since I saw you last, myself,” he announced.

Jake looked over.  “Oh, yeah?  Hey, congratulations!” he said.  He rose from the table and walked around to shake the other man’s hand.  “What’s her name?”

“You may recall her from school, actually,” Dieter said, thinking back to middle school.  “Nicole Gethert.”

“Oh…yeah, that rings a bell,” Jake said.  “Tall, long black hair?”

“Yep.  We got engaged last month,” Dieter said.  The tiny ring was pretty standard Terran betrothal jewelry: a silver ring with an artificial diamond in the setting.  He ran his fingers over it, remembering how thrilled he had been to actually hold it for the first time.  Traditionally, only the person who received the proposal had one, but Nicole had been about to propose to him, too, as it had turned out, so they had simply traded rings once the irony had worn off.

“Well, that’s awesome, man, good for you,” Jake said.  “When’s the wedding?”

“Haven’t decided,” the pale hiver replied.  “Probably sometime this summer.”

The door swung open again.  This time, the person who walked in couldn’t have looked less like Jake.  He was a young-looking man, with mop of tousled blonde hair.  The loose shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned on the top two buttons, enough for Dieter to see a massive, ugly scar wending its way across his chest.  He tried not to stare.

When the newcomer spoke, his accent was thick enough that Dieter pegged him for an offworlder immediately.  “Jake, hello.”

Their host grinned.  “Thangir, what’s up with you?” he asked, reaching out to shake hands.

“Just waiting for Freya to get back from work, most of the time,” Thangir said ruefully.  “But integrating Olev into ‘high culture’ is always an adventure,” he added, curling his fingers in the air.

“You know what I do?” Jake asked, faux-seriously.  “I don’t bother.  Let him be himself and try not to laugh at the shocked nobles.”

Thangir threw his head back and laughed.  “Hah, that would work well with Freya’s approach to the upper crust!”

Dieter stood as the man approached him.  “Don’t know we’ve met, friend,” the younger man said cheerfully, eyeing Dieter up.  Dieter felt the most unsettling feeling in his spine as they made eye contact.  It was as if he was looking at a holo of a predator.  “Thangir Russ.”

The name sounded familiar, but no connection materialized in his mind.  “Dieter Hatham.  Nice to meet you,” Dieter said automatically.

The other man nodded with an equally clear lack of recognition and sat at the table.  “Jake, my friend, this is new,” he said, running his hand over the table.

“Well, ‘new,’” Jake said with a shrug.  “Since you were here last time.”

“Yes,” Thangir conceded.  “Who else is arriving tonight?”

Jake counted them off on his fingers.  “You, me, Dieter, Cora, two of my friends from school, a friend of theirs, and maybe Remilia if she can make it.  We’re not holding our breath.”

“I see.  Seven is a full house anyway,” Thangir said, rising to his feet again.  “Where’s Venus?”

“Downstairs, where she now spends every waking minute, perfecting some gadget.”  Jake shook his head with an equal measure of fondness and resignation.  “I think she’s trying to teach Carmine some trick.”

“I see.  Olev is taking to Terra well, all things considered, but he prefers it back home,” Thangir said, which at least confirmed Dieter’s suspicious about his off-world status.

Jake nodded in sympathy.  “I know, Carmine’s the same way.  I promised him I would let him go to school on Nocturne when he was old enough.”

Thangir made a non-committal sound and wandered about the room.  He glanced over one of the smaller decorative weapons on the wall and cocked his head.  “I should know this…a matchlock weapon?”

Jake glanced over to where his brother-in-law was standing.  “Yes.  One of N’bel’s first.”

Dieter blinked.  “Uh…you let your kids make guns?” he asked carefully.

His friend shrugged with some discomfort.  “I admit it’s dangerous, but I can hardly stop them.  It’s in their blood.”  He noticed Dieter’s blank expression.  “We’re very careful.  We don’t give them ammo.”

“Sure,” Dieter assured him.  “Do you do it too?”

Jake shrugged.  “Not well.  Not like Venus or the boys.  I’ve designed some things they built, though.”

The door swung open again, terminating the rising awkwardness.  A woman of about Jake’s height and short, light brown hair walked in.  Again, Dieter was struck by a sense of familiarity.  It clarified the moment she spoke.  “Jake, Thangir, how are you?” she asked.  Her voice was sharp and measured, like she had military experience.  Dieter blinked as a name floated into his head: Remilia Dorn.  His mouth went dry.  He looked from side to side as covertly as he could, trying to fathom how he should be acting, but the others were being unnervingly nonchalant.

Dorn was dressed in a loose button-up over a pleated shirt and cargo pants, so this clearly wasn’t supposed to be a formal occasion, at least.  Dieter forced himself to relax, remembering how they had handled the meeting after Jake got back from high school.  He cleared his throat, trying to hide his nerves.

“Er, hello,” he said.  Remilia glanced over at him.  “I doubt you’d remember me, ma’am, but I’m Dieter, we met at the get-together…after you and Jake came back from the trip…after high school,” he said, his voice losing strength as he plowed on.

Dorn tilted her head at him for a moment, then stuck out her hand, smiling brightly.  “Right, I remember.  How have you been?” she asked, as if it had only been days.

Dieter felt his cheeks burn a bit that she had actually remembered him.  It had only been for a few minutes, and decades ago.  “I’ve been well, ma’am, thank you,” he said.  “I’m flattered you’d remember me.”

Remilia smiled, with a self-effacing shrug.  “I’m good at faces.”

“Remilia!” Jake said, crossing the room to envelop her in a quick hug.  “Glad you could make it!  We thought you had a thing at the Registry!” he said.

His cousin hugged him back.  “Hi, Jake, glad I could be here too,” she said.  “I had a guy cancel at the Bureau, so I made time.”  She waved at Thangir, who was pawing through the fridge.  “Hey, Thangir.”

The younger man rose and nodded a greeting.  “Remilia, hello.  Are you ready to lose a fortune?” he asked mildly.

She scoffed and sat at the table.  “Never gonna happen,” she proclaimed.  Dieter shot a glance at Jake, who caught his eye and shook his head.

“Nobody’s losing a fortune, actually,” he said.  “Buy-in here’s a hundred credits.”

Remilia looked up at him.  “Oh.  Duh, sorry.  Yeah, this is a friendly,” she said, no doubt for Dieter’s benefit.

“I’m probably going to regret this, but what’s the usual buy-in?” Dieter asked.

Thangir dropped is drink on a coaster and slumped into a chair before answering.  “Twenty thousand,” he said.  He grinned at Dieter’s shake of the head.  “Bit steep?”

“I make maybe twice that in a year,” Dieter said disgustedly, dropping into another chair and trying once more to fight off the sense of displacement.

Over the next few minutes, the rest of the guests arrived, one by one.  The other hivers looked as out of their depths as Dieter had.  Will and Abram, at least, didn’t look as uncomfortable after a few minutes had gone by.  Alan was more occupied trying not to stare.  Jake did his best to make the others feel at home; he tuned the audio system in one corner to an ambient music station and broke out a few bottles of amasec for those so inclined.  Dieter and Thangir accepted a tumbler each of the deep brown liquor.  Dieter read the label, but didn’t recognize the name.  Off-world too, no doubt.

The door opened yet again, and a woman he didn’t recognize walked in.  This one was pale, incredibly so, more even than a hiver like him.  She had stomach-length black hair and was dressed for business, complete with a slate under her arm.  As the surfacers crowded around her, the name they used to address her froze Dieter’s blood.

“Cora, just in time,” Thangir said.  “We were about to start.”

“Ah, you couldn’t start without me, I’m bringing the food,” Cora scoffed.  She turned to the hivers still sitting at the table, a few of which looked stunned.  “Hi.”

“H-hi,” Alan managed.  “I, uh, I think I work for you.”

Cora laughed.  “Likely.  You work for TMC?”

“I, we do,” Alan said.  “Ma’am,” he added.

“Cool.”  Cora dropped into a seat.  “Well, these things are no-décor, so just have fun and let’s not talk about work, huh?” she asked cheerfully.

“Sorry, ma’am, but…no-décor?” Alan asked carefully.

“No Decorations.  We’re all friends here,” she explained.  She set her slate down and cricked her knuckles as a servitor pushed in a cart of food.  “All right.  Let’s get started.”

Jake sat down in one seat and pulled out the deck of cards from under the soft felt table.  “All right.  We have enough people that we can swing five or a hold’em.  Any preferences?”

“Classic Draw gets my vote,” Cora said.  There was a general nodding of heads, and Jake reached under the table to grab his box of chips.

“Excellent.  Just like old times, huh?” he asked his middle school friends with a grin.

“Some traditions must be maintained,” Abram said, grabbing his chips.

The game started slowly, as the players divvied up the chips and selected food and drinks.  The hivers dug into the surface fare with enthusiasm that made their host smile in recollection.  He had been nearly that zealous when he had first had a snack at Imperator.

As the game moved on, the conversation turned to Thangir’s family.  “My home on the Aett is changing, these days,” he said, flipping some chips into the pot.  “Raise you ten.”

“Changing how?” Remilia asked as she matched the bet.

“It’s less crowded, for one,” he said.  “So many of us are gone now, off in the wars.”

“I imagine.”  Remilia set her cards down, revealing an ace-high straight.  The others made sounds of disgust and chucked in their cards.  “When I was there, it was pretty empty, too, since several Great Companies were off stomping Orks on the Void Walks.”

“There are many still so dispatched,” Thangir said cryptically.

A light knock sounded on the door.  Jake rose and opened it.  Carmine was standing beyond, eyeing the group curiously.  “Dad, can I come grab some stuff out of the cabinets?” he asked.

Jake stepped back.  “Sure.”

Carmine walked up to the rack of storage cabinets on one wall and started rooting through them as Jake returned to his seat.  “Anyone still thirsty?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m good,” Remilia said.  She rose to her feet and stretched.  “Deal me out a few.”

Cora, the current dealer, nodded.  “All right.”

Remilia wandered over to where Carmine was digging through some games and watched him sort.  “Hey, Carmine, you have a second to talk?” she asked.

Carmine glanced curiously up at her.  “Uh, sure.”

“Cool.”  She squatted next to her nephew and marveled at how fast he was growing.  “What are you looking for?”

The boy squinted red light into the cabinet as he rooted around.  “A specific…thing…”  He was silent as he dug for a few more seconds.  “A pair of binoculars…”

“What for?” his once-removed first cousin asked.

“I like to look at airships out over the city, but…mmph.  Can’t find them,” he sighed.  He closed the cabinet and stood, looking around himself.  “Where can they be?” he muttered.

“Can I ask you about school?” Remilia asked.

Carmine shrugged and plopped down on the floor.  “Sure.”

“How are you fitting in here?  I know you were worried about it.”

He thought over the question for a moment.  “It’s not as bad as I was afraid it would be,” he admitted.  “The others think I look like a mutant, sometimes, but forget those guys.  I just hang out with the ones who don’t.”

Remilia smiled.  “Smart kid.  Do you have a best friend?”

“Yeah, I do, actually,” Carmine said.  “He’s Tohm, a merchant’s son.  He’s the same age as me, maybe a day or two older.  We both like the same shows and stuff.”

“That’s good.  Do you like your classes?”

“No,” he sighed.  “They’re all really easy.  I’m taking every advanced course I can, and I’m still bored out of my mind.”

Remilia nodded sagely, having been quite aware of the same phenomenon at Imperator.  Only college had truly challenged her.  “Yes, I’m sure.  Are the teachers nice, at least?  I know some teachers dislike teaching people from other planets.”

He looked up at her, surprised.  “I never see that.  Where does that happen?”

“Oh, some schools more than others.”  Remilia looked over at the door.  “Is your Mom around?”

“She’s in the forges,” Carmine said.

“All right.  Thanks,” she said, starting to rise again.  She leaned over to peck him on the cheek.  “You stay out of trouble, now, okay?” she asked fondly.

“Oh, we’ll see,” Carmine said evasively.  Remilia rolled her eyes.


N’bel shuffled his feet and glared at the floor in the basement below, trying not to look at his mother.  Venus had crossed her arms over her apron and was staring straight at him, trying not to lose her temper, in turn.  “So, where was the soldering gun when you found it?” she asked.

“On the porch,” N’bel mumbled.  Venus’s eyes narrowed.

“And why was it on the porch?” she pressed.

“Because I left it there,” N’bel said, still not looking at her.

“Is there something wrong with your eyes?  Are you having an allergic reaction?” Venus snapped.  “Look at me!”

N’bel’s red eyes met hers at last, and he flinched away.  “N’bel, I should never have to tell you where your tools go,” Venus said, cold now.  “And why did you take a solderer out of the basement anyway?” she demanded.

N’bel didn’t answer at first, then relented as his mother’s eyes narrowed again.  “Uh…to fix something that broke on the swings.”

“One of the chains that held it up get cracked?”

“Yeah.”

Venus sighed.  “Then why didn’t you dismount it and bring it down to fix?”

“I…didn’t think to.”  N’bel’s eyes were drifting away again.

“And why use a soldering iron, when the chains up there are tempered steel, and can’t be adequately repaired by anything short of a welding setup?” Venus asked.

“I…wanted to get it done fast,” her son said.

Venus’ fingers tightened on her bare arms.  “Fine.  Go clean up, dismount the swing, bring it down, and fix it here.  I’ll wait.”

N’bel sighed, but obeyed, putting his tools away.  The door to the forges opened at the top of the stairs as he did so, and Venus turned to face the new arrival.  Remilia appeared, hands in her pockets, and paused at the bottom of the stairs.  “May I?” she called across the room.

Venus sighed under her breath.  “Sure,” she called back.  Her cousin navigated over to her, carefully moving around the various metalworking stations.  “How’s the game going?”

“I’m just taking a break,” she said.  She leaned in close and lowered her voice.  “Am I interrupting?”

“Sort of,” Venus mouthed.  Louder, she continued.  “I have a second, though.  What’s up?”

“Just saying hello.”  Remilia glanced at the forge her cousin was working.  “What have you got going?”

“A project for the son of a friend of mine who’s joining the Auxilia back home,” Venus said.  She ran her hand over the lumps of unidentifiable metal.  “It’s eventually going to be a Stalker Bolter with an integrated polar optic and a recoil suppressor.  Not quite done, yet.”

“Very cool,” Remilia said.  “You want to drop by the game upstairs and say hi to everyone later?”

“I may,” Venus said.  “Cora bring food?”

“She did.”

“Did she cook it herself?” Venus asked with trepidation.

Remilia laughed.  “No.”

“Then absolutely,” Venus said drily.

N’bel listened in with half an ear as he stacked his tools in the proper places.  He tried not to let his annoyance at being called out get to him.  He had screwed up, and he knew it.  Remilia turned and headed back up.  Mom waited a moment longer, to make sure he was packing properly, before following.


The game upstairs was speeding up with the generous application of amasec.  To Jake’s relief, Will was coming out of his shell a bit, and actually trading stories with the other players.  At that moment, he was describing his adventure finding the place.  “Of course, I’d only been outside the airlock once in my life, so I could hardly navigate.”

“How’d you find it?” Cora asked.

Will cleared his throat past the cloying taste of the alien alcohol.  “I just followed the directions you gave me and looked for the house with the big porch.  I had to look up what a porch was, but hey.”

Jake shook his head.  “I didn’t know why Venus insisted on one before we had one.  On nice days, we rarely go inside.”

Alan dropped his cards and folded out.  “So how often do you go to space?”

“Oh, we’re back and forth between Earth and Nocturne all the time,” Jake said.  “At least once a year, round-trip.  For other purposes, a few times per year.”

“Do you get your own ship?” Alan asked.

“Heh.  I asked the same thing,” Jake said drily.

A voice from the far side of the room spoke up.  “We don’t get our own ships unless we pay for them and hire the Navigator ourselves,” it said.  Alan and the other hivers looked over at the source to see a woman with skin darker than shadow emerge from a side door, rubbing down her forehead with a towel.  She crossed the room, flipping the towel to hang over one shoulder, and revealing uniform, bright red eyes as she did so.  They glimmered in the dim room lights, casting eerie shadows over the furniture.

“As this little debutant so declares, we don’t get ships,” Remilia said dismissively, shooting the new woman a smile.  “Hi, Venus.”

Dieter blinked as the memory returned.  She had been the one with Jake at the party.  That explained the eyes.

“Hey, Remilia,” Venus said back.  She leaned over Jake’s head to whisper something, then shot a smile at the rest of the table.  “At the risk of sounding like a total scrub, how’s the game going?”

“I’m just about murdered,” Cora said sadly, nursing her last few chips.

Thangir swept up the latest pot with a smirk.  “A feat for which I will take all the credit,” he said.

“Hey, come on,” Will said, glaring at the Prince with visible hesitation.

Thangir good-naturedly shrugged.  “Oh, fine, you lads are doing just as well,” he said, gesturing at their chip stacks.  “You play quite well, by the way.  Where did you learn?” he asked.

“Right here on Terra, at middle school, sir,” Will said.  “We taught Jake.”

Jake snorted at the insult.  Abram picked up where Will left off.  “About eight and a half hours every week, for money, for three or four years.”

Thangir stared.  “What kind of school did you attend?”

Jake chuckled.  “A normal one.  We just found our own means of entertainment.”

“I can see.  Even my eyes can’t see your tells, half the time,” Thangir said.

“Or mine,” Cora said.  She stretched and pushed away her cards as they were dealt.  “I need a stretch.”

Venus vanished upstairs to clean up as Cora wandered over to the food tray.  “Who’s hungry?”

“I can’t get enough of whatever the little brown square things are,” Will said.  “What are those called?”

“Brownies,” Cora called.  “They’re chocolate, or these are.”  She grabbed a few and passed one to Will as she sat back down.  “Covert delivery system of choice for powder and leaf narcotics, too,” she added as he started to bite.

Will froze, staring at her.  Jake glared at his cousin.  “Hey, knock it off.  They’re not poisoned, Will, eat up,” he added.  He bit into one with gusto.  “They are also excellent,” he said through a mouth of chocolate.

Dieter sighed heavily and set his cards down.  “Jake, man, this is freaking me out,” he said.

Jake stared at him, as did most of the others at the table.  “What’s wrong?”

Dieter felt the sense that perhaps he should have asked for a more private venue to air his complaint, but soldiered on.  “This is…I mean, we’re playing cards with royalty.  I feel like I’m drowning, here.”

Jake started to say something, but Thangir abruptly cut him off.  “Why?” he demanded.

Dieter blinked at the unexpected interruption.  “I mean…I’m a hiver, and you all are…”

“I’m a fisherman,” Thangir said, glaring at the older man.  “My whole life was standing on the deck of a ship, stabbing razorfish.”

Jake tried to speak up again, but this time his words stopped on their own.  Thangir continued, oblivious.  “Look, Dieter, all of you,” he said, this time addressing the other men at the table as well, as Cora and Remilia traded uncomfortable looks.  “When Cora said no décor, she didn’t mean ‘ignore the fact that I am a Primarch,’ she meant ‘only pay attention to the fact that I’m playing cards.’  If you are intimidated, I can respect that, but suppress it.”

“Thangir, that’s not fair,” Remilia suddenly said.  “The man’s never even seen the sun before.”  She looked over at the hiver men.  “What can we do to make this less nerve-wracking?”

Alan piped up, hesitantly and quietly.  “I honestly don’t know.”

“Well, we could try just talking,” Dieter said, apparently past the ‘embarrassment’ stage.  “I mean, all we’ve done is play cards.”

Cora shrugged, putting her cards aside.  “Suits me.  What do you want to talk about?”

A knock at the door broke the mood.  Cora rose to open it, laughing as she did.  “We had this whole rapport going, too.”

Dieter chuckled feebly, feeling a sense of resignation bolster his courage.  He looked over at Jake as his old friend started packing up the cards.  “How did you do it, man?”

“I was twelve.  How much did I need to care about royalty back then?” Jake asked.  He paused as Remilia raised one eyebrow with a sardonic smile.  “Okay, fine, I was scared shitless.  But I also had a crush on Hana Khan, so I just forced myself to acclimate.”

Will laughed, despite himself.  “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Jake said ruefully, as the memories returned.  “She dumped my ass like a bag of rocks.”

“You were broken at the seams and joints, as I recall,” Remilia pointed out cheekily.

“Ah, it all worked out,” Jake said, taking his ribbing.  Venus brushed past Cora at the door and walked back in, freshly scrubbed and clad in civvies.

“Hey.  Mind if I snag lunch?” she asked Cora.

“Help yourself,” Cora said.  She sat back down and glanced over the hivers as Venus dug into the platter.  “So…what did you want to ask?”

Venus discreetly glanced over the table.  The chips were still out, but the cards were out, and all four hivers were looking a bit apprehensive.  She bit back a sigh.  As badly as Jake wanted to keep in touch with his old life, this probably hadn’t been the best way to do it.  Still, he was her husband, and if she could help here, she would.

Abram finally found his voice.  “I guess I just don’t know how to be acting,” he said.  “I mean, when we were kids, it was…you know, whatever, it was easy…but now?  It feels different.”

Remilia nodded slowly, though internally, she had to admit that interacting with common Imperial citizens wasn’t really her cup of tea.  Still, it was Jake’s gig.  “Well, I can’t speak to that,” she said.  “But…I think that you’re thinking of us as royalty when we’re not, as long as we’re here.”  She underscored her words with a gesture at the surrounding room.

Will snorted.  “What the hell.”  He flipped a chip in the air and caught it, and started rolling it between his fingers.  “I guess I’m just all fired up.  I dunno.”  He smiled weakly at the Royal daughters.  “Sorry if we’re cramping someone’s style.”

Dieter shifted at the implied admission of wrongdoing, but Jake cut him off.  “Forget it.  You’re not.  And maybe this was a bad idea, but you’re here, and we may as well enjoy it,” he said firmly.  The corners of his mouth tightened as he said it.  Thangir caught a flash of self-recrimination in his scent, too.  “What do you guys want to do instead?”

“I dunno, man, catch us up,” Will said.  “What have you even been doing lately?”

“Being a stay-at-home Dad,” Jake said, his tension easing a bit.  Venus quietly sat in the overstuffed couch in the corner where N’bel and Carmine would sit to play games on the holo.  “Learning how to work in the forges, picking my drawing back up, that sort of thing.  Before we had the boys, I used to work in the Palace more.”

“Work how?” Will asked.

“At the Estate.  I would review which files needed to be sent to Nocturne, that sort of thing,” Jake explained.

Over the next few minutes, Venus watched in silence as the eight players tried to break the ice a bit more, trading stories and anecdotes from their daily lives.  After about ten minutes went by, someone remembered that the chips needed to be cashed, and Jake passed out the buy-in money.  The hivers and Thangir had indeed cleaned house.  Still, the tension didn’t fade completely, and after another half an hour, Dieter finally stood.

“Well, man, I think we should be heading out,” he said, grabbing his money.  Jake sighed, letting his frustrations show for an instant, then rose as well, forcing a smile onto his face.

“It was good to see you again after all this time, guys,” he said.  “Let me walk you out to the cab stand.”

“Sure, thanks,” his old friend said.  He turned to the Royal family members with much greater hesitation.  “Well…thanks for having us,” he said.
Thangir inclined his head.  “Good to meet you,” he said.

“Thanks for coming,” Remilia said, as Cora nodded.  Venus rose from her chair and walked past them to the front door, pushing the food cart with her as she did.

“Remilia, Cora, Thangir,” Will said.  He chuckled to himself.  “Man, that’s weird.  Not adding a title in there.”  Remilia grinned.

“Thanks for coming, gents, the game’s better with eight,” she said.  “Hope you can make it to the next one.”

“We’ll try,” Will said, though Thangir wasn’t the only one who sensed his hesitation.

At the front door, Venus leaned back against the frame with the food in her arms.  As the others walked up, she passed it out.  “Can’t have leftovers.  You guys travel safe, all right?” she asked, smiling brightly.

Abram stared at the food like it was treasure.  “Wow.  Thanks,” he said.  “Nice to see you again, your…Venus.  Thank you for having us,” he added.  “It was memorable.”

Venus bowed back and let her husband walk the others out over the porch.  As soon as they were off, she closed the door and walked straight back to the game room, dropping heavily into a chair.

The others hadn’t moved.  “Well,” Cora said flatly.  “That was…awkward.”

“What did we forget?” Venus asked angrily.  “They were scared out of their minds.  Did ANYONE act like that at Imperator?  Am I not recalling something?”

Thangir stood, shaking his head with disgust.  “Call me a cynic, but that was a fool’s errand of Jake’s,” he said.  “I mean no disrespect, truly,” he added as Venus turned to look at him.  “It’s good to know where you are from.  But the man is not a mortal any more, and he is not a commoner any more.”

“And on Fenris, that’s irreversible,” Venus shot back.  “On Terra, it’s not.  It shouldn’t be.”

Thangir raised one hand, asking his next question in silence.  Venus relented.  “And yet…” she said quietly.  “Damn it.”

Cora slouched in her seat, staring at the ceiling.  “Do I scare Dieter and Will and Alan that badly when I go to the factory where they work?  Hell, I’ve actually seen two of them there.  No wonder Packman’s so tense when I’m around.”

“Who knows.”  Venus stared at the table for a while, then huffed a breath in impatience.  “Well.  Thanks for coming, Remilia, It was nice to catch up.  Stick around for dinner?  All of you.”

“We should be heading out, sorry,” Remilia answered for the group.

Outside, Jake waited at the taxi stop with the others.  “Well, guys, I’m sorry that was so awkward,” he said to the group as they sat in the little concrete box.  “I was hoping that doing it at home was going to help, but…hell.  Maybe I shouldn’t have asked the girls over,” he said.

Abram shrugged.  “I wanted to try it.  I wanted to see the surface, and I think it was worth it for that.”

Dieter was about to agree, when he saw Jake’s fists clench.  He looked up to see his old friend’s face tighten in helpless anger.  His lips moved in a silent ‘damn it.’  The former hiver, now a Prince, rose to his feet and stared off into the distance of the Cordoba skyline.  “Guys, was I wrong?  Am I supposed to cut ties now?” he asked.

Silence met his question.  Jake spun around, seeing them all look away.  “Damn it, we were like brothers once!” he said, his voice cracking.  “I don’t want to forget where I came from, and I don’t want to leave you guys behind!”

Dieter sighed.  “You married up.  We didn’t.  Doesn’t mean we have to never see each other again, but…fuck.”  He set his bag down and finally met his classmate’s eyes.  “We’re still friends.  Let’s just not cross-contaminate the social circles, know what I mean?”

“It was fun, I just don’t…you know, I don’t want to have to worry about my language or clothing or whatever,” Alan said.  “I mean, she says ‘no décor,’ but she’s still a Primarch’s daughter.”

Jake slumped back down in the seat.  “Yeah.”  He looked aside.  The wall of the shelter was covered in a weather-proofed plastic case with some ads for things his friends could never, ever afford.  He could have bought them and not missed the money.

The taxi, a servitor-piloted yellow skycar, pulled up at the stop, and the hiver men piled in.  Jake caught Dieter’s shoulder as he stooped to sit.  “Hey, man, got a minute?” he asked.

Dieter straightened back up.  “Yeah.  What’s up?”

Jake suddenly hugged the other man, startling him.  Even as he instinctively tried to pull away, Jake said something under his breath.  “Good luck with the wedding, man.  Can I come?”

Dieter relaxed, gingerly returning the gesture.  “Sure, man.  Of course.”

“Thanks,” Jake said.  They separated with a weary smile apiece.  “I miss you guys.  I really do miss you guys.  Please, drop by whenever you want.  I mean it.  Get a day off, come shoot the shit with me, take the local scrubs at cards, get in trouble, piss off the Praetors.”

Will spoke up from inside.  “Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah.”  Dieter grabbed his food and sat in the car.  Jake slid a card through the window for the fare meter, then stepped back.  “So long, Jake.”

“So long, guys.”

The car rose and headed for the airlock.  Abram looked out the back window as Jake receded into the distance.  Jake watched them for a second or two, he saw, then drew back his fist and punched clean through the display case on the concrete wall.  Abram winced, but decided not to share it with the other men, who were busily sorting through their bags of goodies and exclaiming at the novelty.


Jake clenched his fist against the pain and glared at the specks of blood on the darkened skin of his hand.  “Damn…it.  DAMN IT!” he shouted, slapping his bare palm over the cracked plastic, cracking it more.  He spun off and stomped back to the house, fuming.

Venus watched from the top of the mansion, her hands over her mouth.  Her eyes were wide with shock.  Carmine, watching through his binoculars one floor below, dropped them and scrambled down to the front door to await his father.

N’bel, rising from the forge, brushed the dust and grime off of his hands with a rag.  He saw his brother shoot past him in the hall.  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he called.

“Dad!” Carmine yelled, fear cracking his young voice.  N’bel dropped the rag and ran after him.

Jake slammed the front door behind him and sank into a chair in the antechamber.  He buried his head in his hands and squeezed back bitter tears.  Recrimination and helpless fear raced through him, until he lost the battle, and hot tears slid down his face.  He felt his own blood speck on his cheeks and didn’t care enough to wipe it away.

Footsteps racing through the hallway brought his face up.  “Dad!  What’s wrong?  Are you okay?” Carmine demanded as he skidded to a halt in front of his father.

Jake stared at the blank red eyes in his son’s face.  Shame he hadn’t felt in years caught his breath in his throat.  “Carmine…” he said, his voice unsteady.  “Goodness, kid, I’m so sorry for myself right now.”

“What’s wrong?” Carmine pleaded, tears forming in his eyes, too.  He was an empathetic young man who didn’t like seeing his father hurt one bit.
N’bel arrived behind him and gasped when he saw the state of Jake’s hands.  “Dad, what the hell?  Did one of the guys you brought over attack you or something?”

The door to the game room at the end of the hall swung open too, as the others overheard the conversation, and suddenly Jake didn’t need more people in his life.  He shot to his feet and blew past the boys, heading for the stairs to the roof.  “I’ll be fine,” he said over his shoulder, teeth clenched.  “Just give me a minute.”

Remilia watched him go up the stairs, then looked down at the boys.  N’bel just looked mad, Carmine was barely holding back tears.  “Guys,” she said softly.  They both looked over at her as she spoke.  “Your Dad is just very scared of something.  Please give him a little time to think, okay?  He’ll want to see you both later, I promise.”

Carmine ran over to her and nearly threw himself into her arms.  She knelt and hugged him tight as Cora looked away.  Thangir sighed and walked back into the game room.  N’bel hovered nearby, before following Thangir into the game room, intent on answers.

Jake managed to get all the way up to the roof before the rage had replaced the shame completely.  He burst out onto the flat patio roof and slammed the door behind him.  He glared at himself in the reflection on the glass in the door.  His voice tore from his throat in a ragged shout.  He ground his words out in a pledge.  “I DIDN’T-”

“Didn’t what?”

Jake spun around, his proclamation dying on his lips.  Venus was sitting in a chair in the middle of the patio, staring at him.  Instantly, his anger vanished.  “Venus…I didn’t see you there,” he managed.

“What didn’t you do?” Venus asked softly.

Jake felt a drop of blood ooze down his hands to the tile patio below.  “I…I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t wait to see if…”

Venus stood and walked over to him, taking his uninjured hand.  She gently guided him without protest to the chair and sat him down.  She knelt before him and looked up into his eyes.  “What didn’t you do, Jake?  Why are you so angry?” she asked.

Jake stared down into the eyes of the person he trusted more than anyone else he had ever known, and felt the words escape his lips.  His voice was tortured, angry…and painfully ashamed.  “I didn’t…earn this.”

Venus was quiet.  “Earn…what?” she finally asked.  It was just to encourage him.  She knew what he meant.

Jake looked into her unthinkably beautiful eyes, trapped by their gaze.  She wasn’t being judgmental in the slightest, damn her.  How could he feel like this if she wasn’t blaming him for it?  “I didn’t earn a perfect life,” he whispered, and his head sank into his hands again.

Venus stared at her husband, her heart ripping in half.  She tried to find words that wouldn’t deepen the wound, and they didn’t come easily.  “Jake…”

“Venus, I’m so sorry,” Jake sobbed.  Tears and blood dripped from his hands in orange spots.  “I haven’t earned this gift at all,” he said, grinding his eyes into his palms.  He was referring to the surgery the Emperor had offered him, the one that had made him eternally youthful and able to get Venus pregnant.  “I’m…I’m richer and more powerful and more healthy than every single friend I’ve ever had, I’m…I’m going to outlive everyone I ever knew before I met you…and I haven’t earned that at all,” he sobbed.  “My…my friends from school, and Alan…they’re struggling every single day, in shit jobs for shit pay and…and then I ask them here, and they see you and your cousins…and my boys, and Thangir…and look at what they’ve done!” he cried.  He pulled his hands back so Venus could see his shame.  Blood and salt water caked his hair at odd angles.  “What did I do live this life?  What have I done to earn this?” he asked, his voice a thready whisper.  “I tried to start a charity, it never got off the ground…I tried to help in the drug war, it was a waste of time…I try to give my friends a good time, they’re scared shitless…”

Venus slowly rose and sat beside her husband, cradling his head on her shoulder.  She could feel him shuddering.  Sobs wracked his body.  She felt his tears stain her shirt as she weighed her words.  “Jake, you did earn it.  Why do you think the Emperor waited so long to extend the offer to you?  So much longer than Mike and Nate?”

“Because…because they’re psychics,” Jake managed.  “So is he.  He read their minds, saw their worth.  I’m not psychic.”  He choked a cough past his tears.

“No, baby,” Venus soothed.  “You’re looking at it wrong.”

“Huh?”

“The Emperor didn’t take longer to approve of you because he couldn’t read your mind,” Venus explained quietly.  “He took longer because he holds you to a higher standard.”

“What?”  Jake blinked back tears and stared at her from inches away.  “What do you mean?”

“Angela and Miranda, baby,” Venus whispered.  “They’re psykers.  They could read Nate and Mike’s souls.  The Emperor didn’t need to do it himself.  I’m not psychic.”  She looked Jake square in the eyes.  “I had to learn you inside and out the old-fashioned way.  The Emperor took his time because I took my time.  I had to be so sure, so absolutely and permanently confident in your right to an eternal life, that there would be no possibility of you ever dishonoring him by abusing the power.”

Jake stared at her.  “Oh.”  He looked down at his hands, the shame swelling up again.  “Then…why did he only need to meet Thangir once?”

“Because he had every single one of the Wolf Priests and Rune Priests in the Fang vouching for him, and they’re either psychic or genehanced to the point that they can’t be lied to,” she reminded him.  “Freya understood long-term relationships better than I did.  And Freya had already known loss.  I haven’t.”  She squeezed his hand.  “I never will.  You’re too good, too kind, too smart, too pure to ever lose.”  She buried his head in her shoulder and kissed the top of his head.  “I love you, Jake, I love you so much it thrills me.  I won’t have you ever thinking that’s not a good enough reason to live forever.”

Jake screwed his eyes shut against her soft cotton shirt, feeling her heat soak into him even as his tears soaked into the cloth.  “Venus…I love you too, and the boys…”

“The boys.”  Venus closed her eyes too and thought of their sons.  N’bel; proud, smart, charismatic.  Carmine, wise, strong, emotional.  Both were a joy to her life.  She knew Jake felt the same way.  “Do you think the boys would be proud to see their father in this state?”

“Of course not,” Jake mumbled.  “You’re right, I should go apologize for blowing them off-”

“Shhh.  Not yet,” she soothed.  She held him in place and scooted away a few inches.  He sank his head into her lap and rested her hand in his curly hair.  “Rest a minute.”

“Yeah.”  Jake closed his red eyes and lay there.

The wind picked up, fluttering the plants on the edge of the terrace.  The brilliant glare off of the hive skins dimmed behind clouds.  There they sat for minutes neither bothered to count.

After a long time, Venus spoke up again.  “Remember when we were on the observation deck of the Fang?  We were like this.”

“Yes.”  Jake sighed exhaustedly.  “You were down here that time.  You were explaining the Creed.”

“Yeah.”  She stroked his hair and leaned down to whisper.  “Remember when you said that you wanted to spend your life with me so badly, the only thing holding back your proposal of marriage was the age-of-consent laws?”

Jake chuckled as the memory returned.  “I did, didn’t I.”

“Did you change your mind?” Venus asked.

“Never.”

His wife caressed his cheek.  “Neither did I.  Stay with me?”

“I will.”  Jake lay there a moment longer before sitting up.  “I always will.”  He looked into her eyes and finally smiled.  It was anemic, bloody, and weighed down by decades of guilt, but it was a smile.  “I can’t disappoint you or Vulkan.”

“Something to keep in mind, baby,” Venus whispered.  “You earned your place at Imperator, too.”  She brushed stray hairs out of his eyes.  “Six people out of thousands.  There isn’t an accolade in your history you haven’t owned solid.”

Jake brushed his lips against hers in a feathery kiss.  She held him closer and drew it out, savoring it.  When she released him, his eyes stayed shut for a moment.  She could see the stress lines in his face vanish.  “What should I do if I ever feel I haven’t earned my life in the future?” he asked her quietly.

“Let your grandfather Eric kick some sense into you,” Venus advised playfully.  Jake smiled fondly at the thought of his ornery Crusade veteran grandfather.  “He’d be livid if you wasted the chance he fought for.”

“Good idea.”  Jake kissed his wife again and slowly rose to his feet.  “All right.  Let’s go see the others.”


Downstairs, Carmine was sitting in the overstuffed couch in front of the holo.  He was wringing his hands as the others looked about each other, trying to find a safe topic.  N’bel was hovering nearby, trying to be a good older brother and make things clearer, but he was as confused as everyone else.  He looked up at where Thangir was lethargically picking over a sandwich.  “Uncle Thangir, can I ask you something?”

Thangir looked up.  N’bel was looking understandably apprehensive.  “What?”

“What was…I mean, I don’t know,” N’bel said hesitantly.  “You’re the only one left here who knows.  What’s it like, being mortal?”

Cora slowly turned to look at the two of them.  N’bel was standing beside his brother, looking at Thangir with an inscrutable expression on his face.  Carmine was looking up too, clearly interested.

The Fenrisian cleared his throat, turning the question over in his mind as he did.  “Lads…that is a very difficult thing to say,” he hedged.  “What do you think it feels like, being immortal?”

“Well, I dunno.”  N’bel sat down and thought for a moment.  “I guess I don’t have anything to compare it to…”

“And I didn’t have anything to compare mortality to,” Thangir explained.  “Honestly, it is not all that different.  I just don’t age.”  He leaned back in his chair and studied both boys.  N’bel was in his normal weekend clothes; loose sports shirt over slacks, while Carmine was dressed for something fancier.  He had on a dress shirt instead.  Both boys were staring at him with identical looks in their red eyes.  “Does that concern you?”

N’bel looked away.  “I think it concerns Dad, some times.”

“Ah.”  Thangir felt something slide into place in his mind.  “The game today?”

“He was…” Carmine screwed up his face.  “I’ve never seen him so angry!” he exploded.  “He punched that bus stop so hard his hand was bleeding!”

“Oh, Jake,” Remilia said quietly, running her hand over her eyes.

“What’s he mad about, Thangir?” N’bel asked.

Thangir sighed and slowly stood.  “Lads, I am not of the mind to speak for others.”

Carmine’s voice was plaintive.  “Dad’s never mad like that…but being with his human friends was what got him upset, I know it!”

“Carmine, please calm down,” Remilia put in.  “I promise your dad will be alright.  He’s just very frustrated.”

“At what?” N’bel asked again.  His aunt looked away.

The door swung open.  Jake and Venus walked in.  Jake looked around the room as everyone in it straightened up and stared.  “Don’t have to guess what you all were talking about,” he said wearily.  He smiled faintly and sank onto the couch next to the boys.  “C’mere, guys,” he said, holding his arms out, and Carmine scrambled into his lap.  N’bel sat beside them and stared at his father, his fear melting into something between concern and frustration.

“Dad, what was-” he started.  Jake help up his hand.

“N’bel, I’ll explain, but give me a sec, okay?”  He wrapped his arms around Carmine and gave him a quick hug before sighing heavily.  “I’m sorry for that.  All of you,” he said, looking over at the others, still sitting at the table.  “I apologize.”

“Dad, what happened?” Carmine demanded.

His father sighed again.  “Oh, kid…I miss my old friends so much.  And sometimes, I don’t feel much like a noble.”

“Then you should do what I do, and be a noble savage instead,” Thangir said, nodding wisely.

Jake stared at his friend, not comprehending, for all of one second.  Then, Carmine fell from his lap as he pitched over giggling.  “Oh, to…to hell with you,” he said as the spate subsided.  “Ugh.”

“What just happened?” N’bel asked, baffled.  The Royal daughters exchanged a look.

“You know what, let’s not go there,” Cora said hastily.  She stood from her chair and started packing her detritus.  “Anyway.  Thanks for having us, Jake, Venus.”

“Our pleasure, drop by any time.”  Venus rose too, and started to help clean up.  “Boys, could you take the food cart out to the kitchen for us?”

“Okay.”  N’bel grabbed the cart and stared pushing it out.  Carmine lingered.

“Dad, are you okay?  Really?” he asked quietly.

Jake leaned over and gently hugged his son again.  “I am.  I’ll talk to you both later, okay?”

Carmine hesitated, then acquiesced.  “Okay.”  He followed his brother out of the room and closed the door.

The women and man at the table kept at the cleaning for another moment before Jake decided to get it over with.  “I’m sorry, guys.”  He draped his arms over the back of the couch and closed his eyes for a moment.  “I blew up out there.  Sorry if I spooked you.”

“What happened?” Remilia asked, maybe a bit curtly.

“I lost it.  I was so frustrated that I took it out on the damn taxi stand,” Jake said.  His voice was thick with self-acrimony.

Thangir looked up at him.  “And now what?” he asked.

Jake stood up from the couch and walked over to help the others clean up the mess.  “Now, I call the taxi company and offer to replace the sign, then I go work downstairs until the bad vibes are gone, then I call up the guys again and ask them if they’d be willing to come over some other time, just five or six of us.”  He looked across the table at his wife.  “I can’t fix Terra, I can’t fix Nocturne, I can’t fix people.  I can fix this.  I can make a difference for four or five old friends and that’s a start.”

Venus held his gaze for a moment.  She felt the confidence he usually had so close to heart return in him, and smiled back.  “It’s a start,” she echoed.  She looked down at the table and swept up the last crumbs and trash.  “So what comes after that?”

“More,” Jake said.

“Good answer.”  She dropped the trash into the bin and wiped her hands off on a napkin.  “For what it’s worth, I think you had a good idea.  This is just new.”

Thangir glanced over at them, remembering his own struggle to acclimate with immortality and political power.  “You want some free advice, brother?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Do not rush.  We have more than most men dream of,” he said, drawing a line between them in the air with one scarred hand.  “But what we have most of is time.  Time to do good.  Time to make a difference.  We will lose people, we will lose initiative…but we’ll keep going.”

“You have anchors to keep you stable,” Cora put in drily.  “You know, Jake, your boys asked Thangir what being mortal was like.  Maybe you should talk to them about it.”

“Yeah, I overheard that,” Jake said.  “I will.”

“Cool.”  She squeezed him across the shoulder and made for the door.  “See you around.”

“Thanks,” he said after her.  He accepted a longer hug from Remilia and a handshake from Thangir, and then he was alone with Venus.

She sat back down, looking up at him pensively.  “Feel better?”

“Much,” he said gratefully.  He sat down beside her and grabbed the cards.  He slowly flipped one card back and forth out of pure muscle memory as he though back to what he had said to her on the roof.  “I feel like I’ve been missing something, you know.”

“How do you figure?” she asked back.

An ace slid across his hand as he answered, gradually and carefully.  “I think I forgot something about when we were in school,” he said.  “Remember when I was trying to start up that charity thing with  Fulgrim, he said it was basically bribery?”

“Yes.”

“It was.  I had no idea what I was doing.  And then, when I tried to ask the guys what I could to do to attack the drug trade, they said I had no chance,” he said, remembering.  The cards halted in his hands as an idea coalesced.  “And…here I am, schmoozing with you and the others while my friends…look on…” his voice drifted off as the thought grew larger.

Venus’ eyes narrowed.  “You have a look about you.”

“I do…” Jake said softly.  He looked up at her.  “What do I do well?”

She blinked.  “Huh?”

“I mean…what am I good at?” he asked her.  “It’s not ruling, though I’m getting better.  It’s not helping people with grandiose schemes and patronizing parties, clearly,” he added with a snort.  “What have I always done well?”

“Well…I guess you’ve always been good at design and writing,” Venus said.

“Bingo.”  He slapped the cards into their box and slid it away under the table.  “What if…what if I offered to teach at some local school?  Help the people out, but not with some ill-advised patronage or whatever.”

“A teacher…” Venus said slowly.  She pondered the idea.  “I guess I could see the appeal…Faith does it already, and she loves it.”

“Yeah.”  Jake perked up as the idea took form.  “I mean, it’d be perfect.”

“It’s be nostalgic, certainly,” Venus said.  “Dad would approve.”  Jake looked at her curiously.  “Dad said that back before the rest of the Imperium encroached on Nocturnean culture, the Salamanders were mostly advisors, guardians, scholars, and artists when they interacted with the people.”  She leaned forward, feeling a bit better herself.  “They taught and sheltered the people as much as recruited from them.  They still do, to an extent.  I think teaching would be good for you; you’re great with the boys.  And you loved Kouthry.”

“I did,” Jake said excitedly.  “But I meant a high school or a middle school.”

“Oh.”  Venus hesitated a moment.  “That could work too.”

“Not necessarily Imperator, maybe my old school or one of the ones in the Spires,” he clarified.  “So, do you think I should do it?”

Venus shook her head.  “No.  Not yet anyway.”

Jake jerked his head back.  “What?  Why not?”

Venus smiled.  “Because you want to do something great, good, noble, and lasting.”

“And teaching isn’t any of those things?” Jake asked, surprised.

“Of course.  But sweetheart, you already have a responsibility like that,” Venus reminded him.  She gestured to the stuff Carmine had left behind when he went to push away the tray.

Jake sighed.  “The boys.” He glanced over at her.  “I think I can raise the boys and teach at the same time.”

“You could,” Venus confirmed.  “Let me ask you something, though.  Pretty soon, Dad is going to ask me to take over on Nocturne.  Sometimes for years at a time.  N’bel is old enough that he’ll handle it well.  Carmine?  Probably not.  You’ll be his only parent at some points.”  She squeezed his hand as the boys’ footsteps sounded in the hallway.  “Just something to think about.”

“Yeah.”  Jake looked away.  “I think…well.”  He looked over at her again as the door opened.  “I think I might still do it.”

Venus nodded.  “Your call.”

The boys walked in, both quiet.  Jake beckoned them both over.  “Guys, I’m sorry I scared you before,” he said.  He made sure to make eye contact with both.  “I promise it’s over.”

His older son shuffled his feet a bit.  “Why were you bleeding?”

Jake held up his hand.  It was already healing.  “Because I got mad and did something stupid.”  He shamefacedly shrugged.  “I’m alright now, guys.”

“Don’t scare us like that,” Carmine chided.

“Sorry,” Jake said.  “I just felt a little guilty.”

N’bel gaped.  “Guilty?  What for?”

“For having so much,” Jake said, gesturing to the huge house around them.  “I didn’t start with this much, and most of my friends will never have this much.”

Carmine looked back and forth between his parents.  “So what?  That’s not a good reason to feel guilty.  Not like leaving a soldering gun out on the porch,” he snarked.

“Hey!” N’bel snapped, glaring at his brother.

“Quiet, Carmine,” Venus said.  “Dad’s being serious.”

Jake stood, and let Carmine grab his healing hand.  “Okay, no more of this.  What do you guys want to do for the rest of the day?”

As the two started talking, Venus caught Jake’s eyes for a moment.  He was at ease now, talking with his sons.  Venus relaxed.  His guilt may not have faded entirely, but this was a good start.