---

Sanctuary (Part 2)

by Alexis Ames

3.

Eilan slept for thirteen uneventful hours while I sat at the helm and wondered if it was possible for an android to die of boredom. I had the autopilot off because at least flying the ship gave me a task to focus on, though as tasks went, it was far from challenging. This area of space was truly a void—there weren’t even micrometeoroid clouds to avoid, or random space junk to scan and analyze. Two more weeks of this—I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive. I knew that I would, of course. It was just going to be an incredibly painful two weeks.

And then, at the end of it, I would be free. My criminal record would be expunged, and I would be released from the clutches of Veduvis Authority, free at last to return home and resume the life I had started all those years ago.

I heard Eilan in the shower shortly after 0830, and then heard them moving about in the galley. The smell of coffee reached me soon after.

“I don’t suppose you want some,” they called up to me.

“No, but a cup of oil wouldn’t go amiss.”

They came into the cockpit a few minutes later carrying two steaming mugs. They handed me the one full of warm oil.

“Most people don’t think to warm it up,” I said, touched. “Thank you.”

Eilan gave a crooked smile. That, coupled with thirteen hours of rest, made them look their age. I was struck, again, by how young they were—not much older than my eldest, truly. “I’ve met other androids before.”

“Have you?” I asked, surprised. Even I had only ever met one other like me, and that had been years ago. “Where?”

“Gods, everywhere,” Eilan said. “I’ve been to every system that we rule. My parents believed it was important for me to spend some time on every planet, to get to know as much about every culture and society as I could. So I would understand their needs when I came to power.”

“Your parents were wise,” I said, and Eilan nodded.

“They were. I miss them.” Eilan scrubbed a hand over their face. “I could use their guidance about now.”

They turned to me and asked, with naked fear and hope, “Do you think I’d make a good ruler?”

I was startled by the question. “I don’t know enough about you to say.”

Eilan arched an eyebrow at me. “But you’re offering me safe passage back to the palace. Surely you wouldn’t, if you didn’t want me to rule. If you wanted me dead instead.”

“If I wanted you dead, you already would be,” I agreed. “I’m fairly indifferent to the monarchy, Highness. It doesn’t affect us much on Veduvis. Your grandparents oversaw the creation of my kind, for which I’m grateful, and your parents gave us our rights and freedom. If you were to retract any of that, then I would take issue with you. But I don’t believe that’s the case.”

“No,” they murmured, “it isn’t. So why are you here, then?”

I shrugged. “I’m under orders from my director.”

“That’s a lot for someone to ask, even of an employee.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But she’s… persuasive.”

“How so?”

There seemed little point in lying. “I get my freedom once I complete this mission.”

Eilan stared at me. “What?”

“I’m a criminal. A good one—at least until I got caught. I was given a choice: be reprogrammed, or put my skills to good use with Veduvis Authority and earn my freedom. The director will release me from my contract once this is over. I’ll be able to return home.” I shrugged. “Sorry, Highness. I’m not doing this for any altruistic reason. It simply benefits me.”

Eilan propped their feet on the console. “Where’s home for you?”

“The valley.”

“Got anybody waiting for you there?”

“My husbands. Our children.”

“How many?”

“Husbands, or children?” At Eilan’s look, I said, “Two and three.”

“One for each parent. That must make things easy.”

I laughed. “Not as easy as you would think.”

“How long since you’ve been home?”

“Two years.” Two years, five months, and thirteen Sols. Far too long.

Eilan’s expression shuttered. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. As soon as I complete this assignment, I’ll never have to be away from them again.” Silence stretched for a moment, and social convention meant that I needed to ask, “What about you?”

But they shook their head. “I truly am sorry. I want you to know that, if nothing else.”

“What are you—”

And then a gun was pressed to the base of my skull, and I cursed inwardly. I should have known, should have seen it coming. Heard it coming. But I’d allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of security, given that the heir was human and a child.

“Get out of the chair, please,” they said calmly.

They’d played me for a fool, and I’d let them. I hadn’t suspected a thing. “You’re not the heir.”

“Oh, I’m the heir,” they said. “The cosmetic alterations are permanent, but I’m still them. You can check my DNA, if you like. I haven’t been able to alter that yet, though of course that’s next.”

“I’m supposed to return you to the palace.”

“I have no intention of going,” Eilan said. “The Royal Guard has arranged matters so that a ship has come into my possession, and I intend to make use of it.”

“You have to,” I said stupidly. Freedom had been within my grasp; all at once, I saw it trickling away through my fingers. “You must return to the palace. You need to take the throne.”

“So I can become the galaxy’s puppet and punching bag for the next century, until the magic burns me up from the inside like it did my parents? My grandparents? I don’t think so. Get up.”

I had no other choice. I stood. Eilan did as well. They held the gun to my head with one hand, and with the other they summoned a pair of restraints from the hold.

“Put these on, please,” they said, because they couldn’t compel me with magic. I didn’t move. “If you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in your central processing unit. I think you’ll like that even less than being in service to Veduvis for the rest of your life.”

I plucked the restraints from the air and snapped them on my wrists.

“What do you intend to do with me?” I asked coolly. “Surely it would be easier to shoot me and deposit my body in space.”

“It would,” Eilan agreed, “but I’m not a murderer. I’ll drop you at the first starbase we come across. I’m sure you can make your way back to Veduvis from there.”

Magic might not have an effect on me or my kind, but it worked on virtually all other technology, which was why Eilan was able to lock me in the cabin, and no amount of hacking into the ship’s systems would get me out.

With nothing better to do, I indulged in a few hours of self-pity. I should have skipped work and taken that early shuttle to Veduvis, or refused the director’s mission outright and gone home instead. I would be better off than I was now—I would still be in her service for another ten years, but that was better than being indebted to her for a lifetime.

I missed my husbands. I missed my children. I mourned all the years I would never have with them, how much they had grown without me there to see. I felt like a visitor in their lives, one who they saw on a vid screen once a week and in person once every two years. My arms ached to hold them.

I wanted to go home.

---

I was pulled from my charging cycle by the crackle of magic through the ship. Even if it didn’t affect me, I could sense it when it was strong enough.

The door slid open and Eilan came through, breathing heavily as though they had run here from the other side of the ship.

“Damn it, Eilan,” I said testily, “what did I tell you about doing magic on the ship? You’re going to burn out its systems—”

“This isn’t me,” they said. “I need your help. There’s a ship out there.”

A ship that had someone on board who was powerful enough that I could sense their magic even from here. Eilan must be drowning in it.

“Get these restraints off me,” I said, holding out my wrists. They hesitated, and I snapped, “I can’t help you if I’m in chains. Get. Them. Off.”

It was, I noted absently, the same tone of voice I used when I had to be firm with my children. Eilan reacted to it immediately. The restraints fell to the floor, and I pushed past them and ran to the cockpit.

“What ship is that?” I demanded, for though the shuttle’s computer had received the data from the transponder that identified it as the Harmony, an innocuous name that meant nothing to me. Eilan, on the other hand, must have known it. They had gone exceedingly pale.

“It’s the Royal Guard,” they said, in a tone of voice that indicated they knew it was all over. Backed into a corner, there was no way out from this. Betrayal in their eyes, they stared at me, and I held up my hands.

“I had nothing to do with this,” I said. “I swear to you. I never gave away our position. I couldn’t hack into the computer to do so. Your magic kept me locked out. Check the logs, and you’ll see.”

“There’s no time,” Eilan said, and they were right. The Guard was closing fast, and the ship had already sent repeated commands to the shuttle to come to a halt at once. I cut the engines and brought us to a stop, and watched on the screen as the Guard’s ship pulled alongside the shuttle and docked with us. I opened the airlock, and the Guard opened theirs, and I left the cockpit to greet our… visitors.

Intruders, I wanted to say, but they had a right to board this ship.

Five of the galaxy’s most efficient and elite killers stood waiting for me at the airlock. I discerned no visible weapons, but I knew they were all armed and I took care to raise my hands and appear non-threatening. Even an android could be felled by a bullet, as long as it was well-placed.

“Dominic Fortier,” one of them said, “we are members of the Royal Guard.”

“So I gathered,” I said dryly, and the bodyguard glared at me. “What do you want with me? I’m due back at Teutis IV in two days, and I can’t afford any delays.”

“We’ll need to check your logs,” the bodyguard said, “and search your ship.”

“Why?” I demanded, because a man with something to hide would have let them without question. An innocent citizen with creds on the line would want to know the purpose of the delay. “I don’t think you understand, I need to be back—”

“We understand you perfectly,” the guard said, brushing past me. He called to the rest of his team, “Search the ship. I’ll be in the cockpit.”

Eilan was in the cockpit. Not that it had mattered where they decided to hide; they were going to be found anyway. In a matter of minutes, the Royal Guard would be dragging them off the ship, and unless they believed that Eilan had stowed away without my knowledge, I would be walking out of here in handcuffs. If they let me walk at all, that is, instead of deactivating me.

I followed the guard to the cockpit. The least I could do for Eilan was be there when they were taken into custody.
Eilan stood wedged in the corner behind the copilot’s chair. Their face was steeped in shadows, but they were hardly hidden. The guard would notice them at once.

“Quite the ship you have here,” the guard told me, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Luxurious.”

“She gets the job done. Why do you care what she looks like?” Mere days aboard the shuttle, and already I was defensive of it.

The guard turned around, stared right at Eilan, and said, “These gauges must be half a century old. Where did you find this scrap heap?”

“The Martian shipyards,” I answered, wondering what the guard was playing at. What did he care about this ship’s origins, when Eilan was standing right in front of him?

“Hm, figures.” The guard turned to the flight computer. “Do you have an access code for this?”

I stepped up and typed it in for him, chancing a look at Eilan out of the corner of my eye. My sensors detected human body odor, and my photoreceptors filtered out the darkness. I could see sweat beaded on Eilan’s forehead, sliding down their neck to drip off their chin.

Magic. Some kind of illusion spell, or perhaps concealment. Whatever it was, it meant that the guard couldn’t see them—and that I didn’t have much time before Eilan’s strength gave out and the spell dropped. I needed to get him out of here.

“As you can see,” I said, maneuvering around the guard in the tiny space so that I stood between him and Eilan, “my flight plan indicates that I left Veduvis two weeks ago, headed for Teutis IV, and that I haven’t deviated from that path since. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I assure you it isn’t aboard. There’s only me and the cargo.”

“My people will determine that,” the guard said, and I inclined my head.

“Of course. Though I do hope they search quickly. Like I said—”

“Yes, yes, I know. You don’t want to be delayed any further.”

The guard spent several more minutes scanning through the logs. I didn’t dare try to hurry him along again—once more might arouse his suspicions. Eventually, he nodded to himself, apparently satisfied, and left the cockpit.

Eilan sagged, their strength leaving them all at once, and sank to the ground. I didn’t dare try to catch them, or even ask if they were all right, for fear of drawing the guard’s attention. I left the cockpit on the guard’s heels, without a backward glance.

The Royal Guard convened at the airlock again and conferred quietly for some minutes—not that it mattered, as I caught every word thanks to my auditory receptors. Finally, the lead guard turned to me and said, “Your ship’s clean, Mr. Fortier.”

“Yes, I know,” I retorted. “Kindly remove yourselves from it so I can be on my way. I have—”

“A deadline, yes, we know.” The Guard stepped through the airlock back to their own ship and detached from ours.

I waited until they were five million kilometers away before running back to the cockpit. Eilan was still on the floor, a pathetic figure huddled in their too-large clothes. Pale and clammy, they barely lifted their head when I knelt next to them. Dark smears had appeared under their eyes that weren’t there a few hours ago, and their skin was waxen.

I lifted them easily, carried them to the auto-doc, and settled them carefully in the chair. Its padding molded itself to cradle their aching body, and Eilan let out a soft sigh.

“What do you need?” I asked them.

“Food,” they managed, and I brought them four ration packs from the galley. Eilan ate them all while the auto-doc scanned them. I read through the results the machine sent to a nearby computer. There seemed to be no permanent damage. All Eilan truly needed was water, food, painkillers, and about twelve hours of sleep.

I started an IV line for the dehydration. Eilan didn’t so much as twitch when I missed the vein the first time, and thankfully I got it in on the second. They were running a fever that bordered on dangerous, and when I mentioned that, they muttered, “Happens sometimes.”

“We need to bring it down.” I got up and filled a bowl with cool water, and grabbed two cloths from one of the cabinets.

“S’magic-based. Not a natural fever. It’ll break. Eventually.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to be uncomfortable while we wait.” I soaked the cloth, wrung it out, and placed it on the back of their neck. Then, I wet the second cloth and swabbed their face with it, wiping away the sweat.

I thought they fell asleep under my ministrations, but when I got up to head back to the cockpit, a hand caught me.
“Don’t go.” Their fingers tightened on my wrist, and they added, “Please.”

I sat down again. Even I knew what it was like, to be in pain and afraid and not want to be alone.

“Do you want to talk?” I asked gently. “Or sleep?”

“Talk.”

“What about?”

“Tell me about your kids.”

I brushed a sweaty lock of hair off their forehead. They were little more than a child themself—a wealthy and brilliant child, one who’d had a charmed upbringing, but a child nonetheless.

Not so charmed, I reminded myself. Eilan had still been trained in the skill of warfare, taught how to fight, been brought up with the knowledge that the fate of the galaxy rested on their shoulders. Watched as magic burned through their parents and grandparents, one by one, until they were all that was left.

“Gabe’s our oldest,” I said finally. “Not much younger than you. He’s twelve. Adeline’s nine. Corey’s five. He was a baby when I got this latest contract.”

I’d been up feeding him in the middle of the night, in fact, when my orders came through.

“What’s it like?”

“My job?”

“No.” Eilan shook their head. “Being a machine.”

“I’ve never known anything else, so I don’t know. I imagine it’s somewhat similar to being a human.”

“Can you feel pain?”

“Yes.” A sensation I was all-too-familiar with.

“You don’t have parents. A family.”

“We have creators, and some of us consider them family,” I said.

“Can you turn off your feelings?”

“No. They’re integral to who I am.”

“Why didn’t you do it?” they asked abruptly.

“Do what?”

“You could’ve handed me over to them,” Eilan said. They swallowed hard. “Handed me over to them, collected the creds, and been released from your contract.”

“I could have,” I agreed.

“So why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t,” I said. Eilan continued to stare at me, baffled, and I added, “It would have been hypocritical of me. It would have been wrong. I made a mistake, many years ago. Since then, I’ve spent my life in service to Veduvis Authority. The only thing I want is to be freed of my contract, to go home and live my own life. How could I deny you that opportunity as well? How could I trade your freedom for my own?”

Eilan looked away, blinking rapidly. I laid a hand on their knee.

“So what do we do now?” they asked.

“I let you go,” I said. “You can have this ship. We’re not far from a starbase. If you drop me off there, I can find passage back to Veduvis.”

“Your director won’t release your contract if you do that,” Eilan said. “She’ll extend it. Imprison you for life.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But if I turned you over to the palace… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“I can’t ask you—”

“You’re not asking me,” I interrupted. “I’m making my own choice. I’m doing what every other adult in your life should have done for you all these years – allowing you to live.”

Eilan’s eyes were wet. “Dominic…”

My children, though born of the same parents, all handled their grief and sorrow differently. Adeline preferred to be left alone to process on her own, while Gabriel and Corey craved touch and comforting words. I had the feeling that the heir was like my young boys in that sense, and put an arm around them. They leaned their forehead against my shoulder, fingers curling into my leather jacket. I held them for several minutes, rubbing circles into their back, before they finally pulled away.

“Right,” Eilan said, swiping a hand over their cheeks. “Set course for the starbase, please.”

“Aye, Your Highness.”

4.

Eilan dropped me off at Starbase 22. I used my fake papers and creds courtesy of the Veduvis government to purchase a ticket home on the cheapest shuttle I could find—which happened also to be the slowest, so I’d have a good three weeks to think about what I was going to tell the director.

Three days into the journey, news rippled through the ship about a skirmish near the Luhman border. By evening, the news feeds arrived with the details. The heir to the galaxy had been aboard a shuttle destroyed by the Luhmans. It was possible they had escaped, or been kidnapped – or they were dead. All anyone knew for sure was that the galaxy had been without a ruler for two weeks, and now that it looked like we would be without one indefinitely, and tensions were skyrocketing. At least now I had an excuse for why I hadn’t been able to complete my mission.

I retreated to my cabin, and wished I had the ability to get drunk.

No one was waiting for me at the spaceport, which was to be expected. Having failed the director’s mission, my next trip home might not be granted for another few years. I’d sent Cecil and Halvor a message once we entered the Veduvis system, to let them know my mission was over, it was classified, and it had not gone well—and to not expect me home anytime soon.

I took a hovercar over to headquarters, paid the driver, and shouldered my bag. I couldn’t recall a building in my life that I’d been less reluctant to enter, but putting it off wouldn’t make this any easier. I mounted the steps, and my feet carried me to the director’s office.

She greeted me with unexpected warmth—no doubt pleased to now have me in her service for the rest of her career, I imagined. I set down my bag and sank into a chair, wishing she kept oil in here—I could use a cup, after days on the shuttle without.

“Well, Director,” I said.

“Well, Agent.” She grinned. “Congratulations.”

“Oh?” I was running on less than a third of a charge; I was too tired to endure her gloating today.

“I’ve had the paperwork all drawn up,” she went on, pushing a hand screen across the desk to me. “I submitted your severance package to the Chief. All she has to do is sign it, and it’ll be sent to your account immediately. Probably within the next Sol or two.”

“My—what?” I stared at her.

“Your severance,” she said impatiently. “And the paperwork stating that you’re no longer under the government’s purview. Well? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, “but… Director, the heir never made it back to the palace.”

“Yes, and that’s a shame, isn’t it,” she said dryly. “But the Guard kept their end of the bargain—we made the attempt, so we get the pay for it. It’s not your fault the Luhmans interfered and kidnapped the heir from under your nose. And it’s certainly not our problem.”

“They… paid you anyway,” I said dubiously.

“They did,” she said, smugly. “So here’s your severance package, your percentage of the twelve million creds, and your paperwork. Now get the hell out of here and go home.”

I didn’t need telling twice.

---

Adeline spotted me first, before I’d even gotten out of the hovercar.

“Papa!”

Cecil, kneeling by the garden, paused halfway through pulling a weed and twisted around, but she was sprinting away from him. To me. Cecil’s eyes widened, and then he was calling for Halvor. Gabriel leapt from the tree he’d been climbing, and Halvor appeared on the porch, Corey perched on his hip.

By then, Adeline had reached me, and she threw herself into my arms.

“Papa, papa, you came back,” she wept against my neck. I wished I had the ability to cry; I likely would have done so right along with her.

“Of course I came back, baby girl, I always promised that I would,” I whispered into her hair.

Gabriel ran up to us then, and threw his arms around us. Cecil was only steps behind, and then Halvor and Corey were there. I couldn’t fit them all in my arms at once, though I desperately wanted to. I kissed my husbands, and then the children, and my husbands again, and finally Halvor managed to ask, “How long?”

How long did they have me for, he wanted to know? How long until they had to say goodbye again.

“Forever,” I said. I dug the paperwork out of my pocket and showed it to him. “Forever, Halvor. I’m home.”

“You’re not leaving?” Adeline asked, her voice a squeal. I kissed her cheek.

“I’m not leaving,” I said firmly. “I’m never going away again.”

We ate dinner outside, under the wide branches of the artificial oak that Gabriel had been climbing earlier. Real plants and crops grew in the greenhouses out back, but Cecil had wanted something that reminded him of home—of Earth. Halvor and I had constructed the tree some ten years back, and then Halvor’s magic had allowed for a small garden out front as well. His powers kept the soil full of nutrients, helped the flowers and weeds to grow, and Cecil tended to the rest.

“Papa, look.” Gabriel cupped his hands, and flames appeared. They licked at his fingertips. Cecil hastily moved the vase of cut flowers out of the way.

“That’s wonderful,” I said, pleased. Not many humans possessed the ability to conjure fire. I turned to my husbands and said, “You didn’t tell me his magic had manifested.”

“It only happened a few weeks ago,” Halvor said. “We were going to keep it a surprise until you came home for Veduvis Day.”

He looked as though he instantly regretted the words. Gabriel vanished the flames, a shadow crossing his features. Cecil’s lips thinned. Halvor cleared his throat.

“You’re here now,” he said, reaching across the table for my hand. “That’s what matters.”

“I’m here,” I said. Cecil’s foot pressed against mine under the table. “I’m here, and I’m never leaving again.”

The children demanded stories of my adventures—they’d gotten it into their heads that my work was exciting and exotic, and I had become a figure to them that was, in some ways, larger than life. I told them what I could, giving them highly-sanitized versions of my cases. They came away with the impression that I solved mysteries and put criminals in prison, which was fine by me. I never wanted them to know the truth.

“It’s past someone’s bedtime,” Cecil commented, hiding a smile behind his mug of coffee. Corey had nodded off in my lap and was drooling on my shirt, and I couldn’t care less.

“A few more minutes,” I said, and Cecil dipped his head in acquiescence. I curled a hand around my warm mug of oil, listening as Gabriel and Adeline both tripped over each other in their rush to fill me in on the past two years, and wasn’t sure how I could allow this perfect night to end.

It did, of course. The children’s exhaustion couldn’t be ignored forever. I put Corey to bed first. Adeline and Gabriel told me that they were far too old to be put to bed, but considering the circumstances, they’d make an exception for me tonight. When everyone was asleep, I climbed the flight of stairs up to the third story, which housed the master bedroom. Halvor was sitting against the headboard, reading, while Cecil lounged with his head in Halvor’s lap. They both looked up when I entered.

“Do we get to hear the story about how you got out of this contract of yours?” Halvor asked, setting aside his book.
“Yes,” I said, starting to unfasten the clasps of my uniform jacket, “but later.”

Their hands pulled me onto the bed, undressed me, loved me, and finally brought me home.

---

I came to consciousness shortly after midnight. Cecil slept on my right, Halvor on my left. Cecil was pressed all along my side, his arm draped across my stomach, while Halvor slept with his back to me. Our feet were tangled together, though, and I could feel his ribs expand as he breathed.

I didn’t often share a bed at night with my husbands, not for the whole night through. They preferred to have me there as they were falling asleep, and if we’d been intimate, it felt unseemly to leave immediately after. But I had written a program to only wake me if one of them or the children woke up, so I was uncertain why I had been pulled out of my low-power state.

Cecil sighed as I shifted carefully out from under him and climbed over Halvor and out of the bed. I paused for a moment, but neither of them woke. I pulled on a pair of socks to muffle my tread as I made my way downstairs. I turned on the kitchen lights, and found Eilan sitting at my table.

They looked like they’d been through hell. They had a black eye and a deep cut across their forehead that an auto-doc had stitched together. My sensors told me their nose had been broken recently, too, and I also detected a fever. They had dropped weight, perhaps ten or fifteen pounds—too much for their already-thin frame.

“Eilan.” I went over to them and sat down. I placed a finger under their chin, tilting their head to better inspect the damage. “What happened? What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Eilan swallowed, their throat bobbing. “Can I—do you have water?”

“Of course we have water.” I got up to pour them a glass, and grabbed some food out of the cooling unit. Fruit and cheese. Eilan stared at the food like they hadn’t seen a proper meal in weeks, and perhaps they hadn’t. “Eilan. From the beginning.”

“After I left you, I came across a cargo vessel. I made the shuttle look like it had been attacked by pirates; they “rescued” me. I sent out a signal to the Royal Guard ahead of time, and planted enough clues aboard to make them believe I had been captured by the Luhmans. I also planted an… idea in their heads that they should still uphold their end of the bargain. That they should pay your director the money they’d promised, and tell her it was contingent on her releasing you from your contract.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was quiet for so long that Eilan dropped their gaze and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve done nothing to be sorry for.” I leaned forward, ducking my head to catch their eye. “Eilan, I don’t know how to properly express my gratitude to you. Thank you. You gave me my life back.”

“You gave me mine. It was the least I could do.”

“The entire galaxy is looking for you.”

“They’ll give me up for dead before long. The Luhmans will gladly take the credit,” Eilan said. “I’m not going back. I can’t. I saw how the throne drained my grandparents, and then my parents. Sapping their magic until there was nothing left but a shell, burned from the inside out. I won’t go back to that.”

“Of course you won’t,” I said. “But where will you go? What will you do?”

Eilan hugged themself. Through the thin t-shirt, I could count each one of their ribs. “I dunno. Work on trade routes, I suppose. The ships out there are always looking for deckhands.”

I couldn’t picture them as a deckhand any more than I could envision them as an ice miner. There was no way they could pass for a working-class civilian.

Eilan needed refuge, and a place to belong. A place to be. I knew the feeling all too well. Halvor and Cecil had been my sanctuary all these years. Without the second chance they had given me, where would I be now?

Footsteps crept down the stairs, and I twisted in my chair to see Halvor and Cecil come into the room.

“We heard voices,” Halvor said cautiously. “Dom… who were you talking to?”

I looked at Eilan, who sat perfectly rigid in their chair. Oh, no. No, this couldn’t happen. Not like this. I stood and held out my hand to them.

“Drop the illusion,” I said. “Please.”

When Eilan didn’t move, I added, “These are my husbands, Eilan. You can trust them. I promise.”

Eilan shut their eyes briefly. I knew the moment the illusion fell away, from Cecil’s sharp intake of breath. Eilan took my hand, and I pulled them to their feet.

“This is Eilan,” I told my husbands, slipping an arm around their too-thin shoulders.

Halvor recovered first. He took a step forward and gave a short, quick bow.

“Welcome to Veduvis, Your Highness. The galaxy will be relieved to know you’re alive.”

“The galaxy will never know,” I said. “Eilan was my mission.”

Cecil’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “You were put in charge of the heir?”

“I was tasked with escorting them back to the palace so they could take the throne. But they aren’t going back there. I think… they should stay here.”

“Dom…” Halvor trailed off. “We can’t kidnap the heir to the galaxy.”

“Eilan is the reason I was able to come home to you,” I said quietly. “They gave me my freedom.”

A heavy silence fell. Cecil and Halvor looked at each other. I was fairly adept now at reading their silent conversations, but even this one eluded me. I could hear Eilan’s heart racing, fueled by nerves and adrenaline.

“We’ve got a spare room upstairs,” Cecil said finally, a tentative smile cracking his features. “You’ll need a new name.”

“They’ll need papers,” Halvor said to me, and I nodded.

“Not an ice miner this time, I promise,” I said, and Eilan snorted. “Everyone knows we’ve been talking about adopting more children for years. I can create papers for you that say you’re a war orphan from the Wolf system, but two of your parents were from Gaddos—that will explain the accent.”

“Do you mean it?” Eilan half-turned in my grasp to look at me, and there was such hope in their eyes that even I couldn’t misinterpret it. “I can stay?”

I looked at my husbands, who nodded. I squeezed their shoulders.

“Welcome home, Eilan.”

---

Host Commentary

Once again, that was part two of “Sanctuary” by Alexis Ames.

Sometimes it feels like one of the core elements of being human involves making choices. Not just the basic kind–what to eat, what to wear, what music to listen to–but moral choices, ones that show us who we are and what we’re capable of. The choice at the center of this story shows us that Dominic, for all his pragmatism and dedication to his goal, is a parent at heart, and won’t let his teenage charge come to harm even if it makes his own life harder. Sometimes our ethics make harsh demands of us, but it would be even worse to look ourselves in the mirror knowing we’d made self-serving choices at the expense of others. When we do go home, we ask ourselves: what wouldn’t we do to keep our loved ones safe? What wouldn’t we sacrifice? Real life doesn’t always have an ending as tidy as this story, but that’s the beauty of fiction: sometimes “one last job” leads to a happy retirement rather than the darkest timeline. Sometimes doing the right thing is the most impressive kind of magic.

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And our closing quotation this week is from Philip K. Dick, who said: “This, to me, is the ultimately heroic trait of ordinary people; they say no to the tyrant and they calmly take the consequences of this resistance.”

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