Vaironian Tides: The Agitator's Code, #1

By Octavia Atlas

Darion Navarr savors a challenge. As a Negotiator for the Vaironian Government, he matches wits against Tolrek Marou, the nation's most notorious rebel.

Tolrek Marou, an ace mecha pilot, jeopardizes his prominent military career. When he and his fellow pilots are blamed for the loss of a recent war, he leads a rebellion.

Tolrek ultimately surrenders to the government, but Darion suspects Tolrek has hidden motives. Even as Tolrek's taken into custody, he's focused on finding out why he remains important to Vaironia. Once he gets his answers, he plans on taking full advantage of the situation. His largest obstacle is Darion, who Tolrek believes understands him too well.

Both Darion and Tolrek are intelligent and stubborn, pushing each other mentally and physically. Negotiations, small and large, will impact their relationship. With the many stakes involved, who's winning and what does winning mean?

• Language: English
• Publisher: GeistPrime Publications
• Release date: Jul 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734511208

Octavia Atlas

Octavia Atlas is pretty mellow, on any given day. She writes contemporary, fantasy, and sci-fi romance. When she’s not writing, she also enjoys playing video games, reading, traveling, or watching TV/movies. She’d love to hear from you. Connect with her on Twitter, @OctaviaAtlas, or through her website, https://www.octaviaatlas.com.

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Chapter 1

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Darion Navarr slid a metal box onto the wooden table. He watched Tolrek Marou, unable to decipher the rebel leader’s emotions.

I’m not leaving without a decision I like, Darion said. And you don’t have much time to make one. He pushed the small container toward Tolrek. Inside are examples of what the government will do, if you don’t accept its terms.

Tolrek flipped open the lid of the object and found five crisp, white scrolls, each bearing the seal of the Vaironian Security Branch. He selected one and read it aloud:

The VSB will take the 215 children from the Isolation Zone and categorize them as orphans. Seven births are scheduled this week; removal will include the newborns. Any children who are old enough to remember their parents will be psychologically programmed, until they forget.

Darion scrutinized Tolrek, as he silently read the message several times. The other scrolls offered similar dire scenarios. The Vaironian government couldn’t afford to be distracted by a rebellion. Ersha, Vaironia’s warmongering neighbor to the west, could strike again and faster than expected. Darion needed to neutralize Tolrek’s influence on public opinion, as quickly as possible.

Think carefully, Darion said. Your rebels may be trained to handle this standoff, but their families aren’t.

Tolrek reached for another scroll, unrolled it and read it. He did the same thing with the remaining parchments.

These terms don’t have much variation, he said, his voice calm and cool. Only the number of children changed. Slightly.

Yes. Darion gave him a tight smile.

If we surrender, what happens?

The families can leave the IZ. The Prime Minister will pardon the rebels, except for you.

Why not me?

As I recall, two weeks ago, you bypassed Nolan Barel’s home security.

Tolrek had awakened the nation’s top military advisor, with a hunting knife pressed to his throat. One of Tolrek’s fellow rebels had recorded the terror on Nolan’s face and uploaded it to the multinet. The home invasion and the resulting public fallout had generated more heated discussions at all levels of the VSB.

I hadn’t seen Nolan in months, Tolrek said. I missed him.

Are you interested in the deal, or not?

Why would I believe in the government’s generosity? Tolrek shoved aside the metal box. You’re a Negotiator. You lie all the time.

Darion noticed Tolrek’s eyes shifting to a darker shade of green, a rare feature on the planet of Bharatos. During their three negotiation sessions, it had been Tolrek’s only indication of agitation.

Insulting me won’t help, Darion replied. We established that, the first time we spoke. Focus on the matter at hand.

Does the government plan to use the pilots in the future, even those who rebelled?

The pilots remain valuable.

The government was willing to overlook Tolrek’s revolt, which had occurred after Vaironia’s third war with Ersha. The two most powerful nations on Bharatos had fought for almost three years, before coming to a standstill. Vaironia had used 2,000 kezriun units—highly-advanced, combat mechas—to significantly damage its rival. Despite this, Vaironia hadn’t achieved the expected outcome of permanently shattering Ersha. Vaironia had then forced the kezriun pilots to take the brunt of the blame.

While Darion understood why some pilots had rebelled, he was determined to work on behalf of the Vaironian leadership to end the conflict. He glanced at his watch.

I’m about to withdraw the government’s goodwill. Darion met Tolrek’s eyes. You have ten minutes to decide. 

***

A short while after Darion issued Tolrek the ultimatum, he reported to his superiors that the rebellion was pacified. Yet, as Tolrek and the other twenty-four rebels marched out of the mountain compound into the VSB’s custody, Darion sensed that something wasn’t right. The eyes of the other rebels brimmed with relief, their postures relaxed. Tolrek, in contrast, stood proudly. He didn’t wear his calculations on his face, but nothing about his body language showed he’d surrendered.

Darion had never believed Tolrek could be easily subdued. Every bit of information he’d reviewed on Tolrek—his military file, articles and even popular websites dedicated to him—had revealed that the rebel leader possessed a shrewd intelligence. That trait and Tolrek’s intriguing physical prowess were the main reasons Darion had taken the assignment.

Chapter 2

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Two Years Later

Darion took a seat on the suspended monorail, ignoring the usual information panels above him, which featured digital ads for cars, movies and travel destinations. As he began his 30-minute trip from Avdala’s central train station to the VSB complex, he wondered about the reasons for that morning’s surprise high-level meeting.

He leaned back in his seat and activated his tablet, barely registering the curious and admiring glances from his fellow passengers. Even before earning fame for ending the rebellion, he’d been easy to notice. In addition to being muscular, he towered over most people. He’d inherited his commanding presence from his Tildari father. More features from his paternal side included black hair, a broad nose, and a strong jawline, along with his rich dark-brown complexion.

While most of the passengers had lighter skin tones than him, the majority possessed warm brown hues. A feature he did share with those around him—vibrant metallic gray eyes, with a burst of gold—had come from his Vaironian mother. Currently, his eyes were a hazy reflection in his tablet, as he reviewed the latest news. He read until his stop was announced.

When the doors of the monorail opened with smooth mechanical efficiency, Darion walked to the VSB’s security entryway for high-ranking officials and their staff. He chatted with a few of the other negotiators who were on their way to the checkpoint.

He took his turn in one of the 3D scanners, headed to an elevator and made his way up to the 20th floor. He strode down the tan carpet, black dress shoes gleaming from a recent polish, and arrived in front of the second of ten conference rooms. He adjusted his black uniform, while waiting for the security system to process his image. 

The access panel beeped and the door unlocked. Darion entered the sparsely decorated room that could seat eight people. The table was made of the sturdy and dark zarva wood, a symbolic use of the national tree.

Good morning, sir, Darion said to Nolan, the tall, authoritative official at the head of the table.

As the VSB’s Director, Nolan provided advice about the nation’s defense to Prime Minister Yuna Kebehde and the fifty cabinet members. Darion worked for Nolan, as part of a special initiative between Vaironia and the Tildari Empire.

Nolan reviewed his notes on his tablet, his neatly trimmed, silver beard giving him a dignified expression.

Good Morning, Nolan said, as Darion took a seat to his right. The others should be here soon.

Even as Nolan spoke, the two remaining officials arrived. After greeting them, Nolan began the meeting.

We need another method of containing Tolrek Marou, he said. "He's being abused. Although given what he can withstand, he might not consider it a problem. Regardless, his interactions with the prison staff are unacceptable."

Darion clenched his jaw. He looked to see if anyone had noticed, but all eyes were on Nolan.

The guards have to work off their stress somehow, Gavin Treih said, waving a hand. "I’m not surprised they mistreat him. Marou is our most despised prisoner."

Gavin functioned as the Lead Negotiator for the VSB, overseeing a staff of 250 individuals. His division resolved conflicts within the 25 sectors of Vaironia, as well as assisted with international disputes.

Darion noted the boredom in Gavin’s heavy-lidded, gray eyes. Over the course of the negotiations, Gavin had grown tired of Tolrek’s methods. He’d expressed his disdain for Tolrek, finding him to be arrogant and more trouble than he was worth.

Be that as it may, the government needs Marou, Nolan replied. If he dies in our custody, sooner or later, people will find out. We don’t want him becoming a martyr. His death might lead to another rebellion. I’ve selected a new warden, since the last one didn't understand the magnitude of the situation. 

Gavin leaned back in his chair. You see. I was against hiring that previous warden.

Of course, Eleni Khane said.

She smiled at Gavin, her expression cold. As the VSB’s Deputy Director, she worked closely with Nolan and supervised the internal operations. One of her primary responsibilities was to oversee the Kezriun Program. Officially, Tolrek remained a pilot and under her authority.

Darion remembered from other meetings that Eleni had a low tolerance for Gavin and, apparently, that view hadn’t changed.

I called all of you together to get some ideas, Nolan said. Marou is a special case. His military background and stubborn tendencies make it difficult to control him. He’s treating his incarceration as if it’s a vacation and we need to fix that. Nolan looked at Darion. So, I’ll start with you. Any suggestions? 

From what I’ve learned about Tolrek, he has a strong ego. Darion leaned forward. He's supremely confident, with good reason. Out of all the pilots, Ersha fears him the most. That’s why we need to affect him on a deeply personal level.

What’s your recommendation? Eleni asked.

Darion thought for a few moments, wondering if everyone would find his idea to be preposterous. He decided it was still worth mentioning. Register him as a Companion.

Gavin shook his head. Another one of your far-fetched concepts.

Darion, you think this makes sense? Eleni asked. Despite everything Marou has done?

Darion understood the implications of what he’d suggested. Companions—informally known as Pets—were pampered individuals. Having a Pet was a status symbol; only the most affluent could afford to take care of living advertisements of their wealth. After his past interactions with Tolrek, Darion was sure the rebel would be revolted by the prospect.

He can take orders, but he values his autonomy, Darion said. In prison, he still has some leeway. I suspect that, to him, a Pet is beneath a VSB prisoner. Forcing him to become one would psychologically drain him.

If we agree with this plan, who’d manage him? Nolan asked.

I will, Darion said. I already have the advantage of winning the negotiation. I can build on that. Becoming a Pet, especially mine, isn’t something he’d ever choose.

Darion met Gavin’s critical stare. He knew Gavin thought he was reckless. The Lead Negotiator had told him, in veiled terms, that his Tildari heritage was a liability. Gavin had also expressed that Tildar’s overall influence on Vaironia was becoming too strong.

Would you prefer to take charge of Tolrek, Sir Treih? Darion asked.

An uneasy silence lingered, as everyone waited for Gavin’s reply. 

Gavin smiled, but his eyes brimmed with dislike. I’d never have some defeated rebel as a Pet.

Put your egos aside, Nolan said. Darion's method could work, but let’s discuss more options. 

***

Darion and the other VSB officials deliberated for another hour. By the end of the meeting, he’d convinced them to go along with his plan. When the conversation finished, Nolan motioned for Darion to remain, while the others stood to leave. On her way to the door, Eleni paused.

I used to train Tolrek, she said to Darion. Try not to get yourself into trouble.

He laughed. It might already be too late. 

Eleni patted his arm, then followed Gavin out the room. When Darion turned to face Nolan, his humor disappeared, at the sight of Nolan’s stern expression.

Nolan clasped one hand on Darion’s shoulder, looking him directly in his eyes. I need you to keep in mind that Tolrek is unique. I have some information about him that must be verified, but I suspect it’s correct. Don’t get too comfortable.

What do you mean?

First, we’ll see how your plan goes. I’ll only share more, when it’s relevant. I don’t want what I know to affect your strategy.

Darion nodded. All right, sir.

***

Rumadel, the VSB’s maximum security prison, was situated 200 feet below the headquarters. With a capacity for 20 inmates, only the country’s most notorious military criminals occupied it. Inmates there had sentences of at least 15 years. Every cell was soundproofed, with only a ten-inch metal door and one camera for company. The prison’s occupants were never permitted to see each other or interact with family and friends. They dealt strictly with VSB officials and the prison staff.

Tolrek had been sentenced to serve two decades in prison. Now, at the age of 28, he lay on his bed, staring up at the concrete ceiling of his cell. Images of Darion ran through his mind, warring with his desire to forget the negotiations he’d so famously lost. He clenched his fists at the memory of Darion’s insolent, gray eyes.

To change the course of his thoughts, Tolrek rolled to the floor to do one-armed push-ups, alternating arms, as he recited the manual entry about his kezriun.

Kezriun Unit A-21: Tolrek Marou first piloted this machine. He nicknamed the advanced mecha Alrak Nor, in honor of the Vaironian Thunder God. Designated as the leader of the Kezriun Prime Squad, it stands at a height of 63 feet. While all seven kezriuns in this squad are black and silver, Alrak Nor also has dark blue markings on its head, chest and spine.

Tolrek was halfway through describing his kezriun’s battle capabilities, when his cell door slid aside. He looked up and his mouth fell open, as Darion confidently stepped inside. Quickly subduing a stronger reaction, Tolrek looked back at the floor and continued his workout. 

48...49...50. After the last push-up, he jumped to his feet with ease.

I see you’re a bit damaged, Darion said.

Tolrek glanced at his battered right side; hues of purple and red marred his light-brown skin. His blackened left eye and the cut on his top lip still throbbed, along with the bruise that extended into his hairline.

I inflicted much worse, he said. The guards need some time to regroup.

Three of the fifteen prison guards were missing teeth. Four had broken limbs. One had resigned, after suffering a severe concussion and a shattered jaw.

Are you receiving medical attention? Darion asked.

I like to savor the pain. Tolrek cracked his knuckles. Now, why are you here, Lord High Negotiator Navarr? 

I came to see your lavish abode.

Tolrek motioned with a hand at the walls of his cell. I’ll give you the grand tour.

The accommodations had a width, length and height of 16 feet. The shower was in the left corner. A metal sink and toilet were adjacent to the shower. A thick, wool blanket covered the bed of a decent size, which had an ample mattress. Near the foot of the bed, a metal shelf held two books, one which focused on the VSB prison, showcasing previous wardens and some of its most famous prisoners. All inmates received a copy.

While Tolrek found the history interesting, he much preferred the second book, Time and Tide. It featured some of the writings of Arcadia Kolya, his favorite author and poet. He’d been permitted to have one personal item and had chosen that work. He'd tried to bring his tablet, which contained photos of his friends, along with music and books. The warden had confiscated the device, exchanging it for one book. Tolrek wasn’t expecting to see his tablet again. He made-do with what he had.

Darion picked up the collection of Kolya’s work and flipped through the book. What’s your favorite piece in here?

Tolrek gave Darion a probing gaze, before finally answering, Liquid Patience.

When Darion’s eyes met his, Tolrek cursed internally.

A poem about the value of being passive, Darion said. That isn’t how you normally act.

Tolrek shrugged. It’s like Kolya wrote. Sometimes, a tide eventually takes you where you want to go. You should enjoy the experience.

And you ended up in prison. Was this part of your liquid plan?

I’ve been known to miscalculate, here and there.

I see. Darion chuckled. So, what do you think of your cell?

Tolrek smiled with cockiness, as he looked around his space. It’ll do, for now. By the time this year’s over, I’ll be upgraded to a larger suite.

His humor disappeared, when the glint of speculation in Darion’s eyes made him feel like a specimen under a microscope. While the cell was large, Darion seemed to take up half of it. Tolrek wished for much more space between them.

Why are you here? Tolrek asked.

I came to inform you that you'll be living with me. Darion leaned against a wall and folded his arms. As my Pet.

Tolrek laughed, throwing back his head. He walked to the opposite wall and mimicked Darion’s posture. You want me to be your Pet?

That’s what I said.

Is this some kind of joke?

Think of it as continuing our negotiations. 

Tolrek stroked his light beard. What do you get out of this?

Anything I want. Darion grinned, displaying his perfect teeth.

Tolrek strode over to him, leaving only a few inches between their bodies. I’m staying in here, Navarr.

Darion stood up straight. That’s not an option. 

Darion hadn’t entered the cell with a weapon, but Tolrek went on guard. He backed away from Darion, when a strange ripple of energy surged through the air. The hair rose on Tolrek’s arms and the back of his neck.

I’ve registered you, Darion said. But you’ll have a more complicated status than other Pets.

Tolrek tilted up his chin. I’m better than some vacant sex toy.

Not all Pets have a sexual contract. Darion raised an eyebrow. I find it interesting that’s where your mind went.

I— A series of possible responses raced through Tolrek’s mind. None of them seemed good enough to wipe the smugness off Darion’s face.

Please, do go on. When Tolrek didn’t say anything else, Darion sniffed derisively. You have so much pride. We’ll see if you keep any of it. He made his way toward the cell door. He was almost out of the cell, when Tolrek called to him.

"Just a moment, Navarr. Give me back Time and Tide."

Oh, this? Darion held up the book. I forgot I still had it.

Liar.

Darion placed the book firmly in Tolrek’s outstretched hand and held his determined gaze. I’ll see you soon.

***

Darion smiled craftily, as he thought of his earlier conversation with Tolrek. Before leaving the prison, Darion had spoken with the warden. He’d arranged to get access to all the prison’s content on Tolrek, including live footage. He planned to use the new material to refine his strategy for managing Tolrek.

Now that Darion had returned home, he could focus on figuring out how to handle the stubborn ex-pilot. He sat at his desk in his study and reclined in his leather chair. He turned on the ultra-thin, 32-inch, touchscreen monitor on his desk and directed his virtual assistant to access the live prison footage of Tolrek. Barely five minutes into watching, Darion wasn’t happy with what he saw. It was dinnertime and Tolrek flirted with the guards who brought his meal.

Darion was making a mental note to have the guards fired, when Fei, a long-haired female projection, materialized behind him. She peered over his shoulder. He was thankful she hadn’t shifted into the form of Ashrom, his older brother. That was her preferred method, before she scolded him.

As a highly-advanced AI, Fei oversaw Darion’s health and home. Reya Kulani, Darion’s tech savvy sister-in-law, had designed Fei. She’d coded the AI with a wide variety of personality traits, including disarming mischief. During the five years Fei had managed Darion’s home, he’d developed a great affinity for her. As a digital confidant, she was also protective of him.

You’ll cause yourself trouble, she said.

What makes you think that?

I don’t like how you’re looking at the screen. If I remember correctly, and I do because I’m perfect, Tolrek’s a pain in the ass. I’m more than capable of dealing with him, but must he come here? 

Be nice to him. He’s arriving in a few days. 

Fine. I won’t hurt him. Fei shimmered away, leaving with an echo. Unless it’s necessary.

Chapter 3

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Tolrek stood in the foyer of Darion’s home, rubbing his wrists, as Darion stepped away with the handcuffs. Two towering, silver, guardian robots waited behind Tolrek, prepared to restrain him should he try to harm anyone. He ignored them in favor of Darion’s assistants, who stood a few feet away, looking nervous.

Time for introductions, Darion said.

One of the assistants nodded curtly, calmly assessing Tolrek with piercing gray eyes.

I’m Arjan Benor, he said. Darion’s chef.

Tolrek studied the man, who had long black hair and a light beard. Arjan possessed a confident demeanor and a robust physique. Tolrek looked at the other assistant, who likely wouldn’t be an obstacle during an escape.

My name’s Halsam Odeen. Halsam avoided Tolrek’s eyes. I'll be your attendant.

As Halsam stood between Darion and Arjan, his height of 5 feet and 10 inches made him appear slight. With his brown hair cropped short, his face was exposed, revealing eyes that betrayed an innocent and somewhat bewildered personality. Tolrek could almost see the strings and he couldn’t wait to pull them.

Tolrek took a step back, when a figure appeared at Darion’s side, wearing a black VSB uniform.

Don’t forget me, the AI said. I'm Fei, Darion’s enforcer.

And that’s everyone. Darion rubbed his hands together. "Now, we need to clarify your place in my home."

An eager gleam appeared in Darion’s eyes and Tolrek defensively flexed his hands. Darion pointed to one of the small, spherical, hovering robots that held a square silver platter. He uncovered the tray, to reveal a collar engraved with Companion A-21 in block letters. Light bounced off the object that signaled Tolrek’s new position in life.

"I had this specially crafted from navarrium. Darion held Tolrek’s challenging gaze. This Tildari metal is named after my family and it’s highly conductive for electricity."

Darion picked up the collar and stepped close to Tolrek. He put the collar around Tolrek’s neck, firmly clicking it into place. It felt deceptively light. Tolrek cast his eyes downward and gritted his teeth.

Well then, let’s get you sorted out. Darion motioned to his young assistant. Halsam, give him a bath.

***

Tolrek followed Halsam to the other end of the house, where the spa bath was located. Along the way, Tolrek noted the paintings and sculptures in several recessed areas of the walls. When they reached the bathing hall, steaming water awaited them.

Tolrek scanned the area. He knocked on a marble bench, near a wide, arched entrance that was decorated in multicolored mosaics. Mirrors of various sizes covered the walls and ceiling in an artistic arrangement. He wasn’t fooled by the creative display. None of the mirrors had condensation on them. That security feature wasn’t common in homes. Tolrek wondered if he’d been the cause of Darion having it. If he wasn’t the reason, he definitely wanted to know why the measure was necessary.

Halsam’s polite cough pulled Tolrek’s attention from the mirrors.

I think you'll like this bath hall, especially after being in prison, Halsam said. He pointed to an oval tub ten feet in diameter. You can wash in there and then go to the heated pool.

Let’s do this, Tolrek said.

Halsam nodded and removed his clothing, folding the items and placing them on one of the marble shelves above the bench.

Tolrek rolled his eyes. This thin and soft servant was in need of vigorous training. Had Halsam been under his military command, Tolrek would have broken him down and rebuilt him.

Halsam reached to unbutton Tolrek’s shirt.

You must be out of your mind, Tolrek said.

But Darion told me to—

I don’t care.

Tolrek shed his clothes with a flourish and tossed them on the tile floor. Picking up one of the thick, white towels from a nearby shelf, he kept his eyes on Halsam. He stepped toward the bath and dipped the towel into the water. He twisted it, giving Halsam more than enough time to connect the dots. When Halsam didn’t leave the area, Tolrek flicked the dampened towel at him. Halsam skittered back several paces, toward the entrance.

Can you please not do that? he asked. Darion wants—

Tolrek advanced and whipped the towel against Halsam’s chest, creating a wide welt on his tanned skin.

I understand how immature this is, Tolrek said. But my more aggressive tactics would kill you.

Halsam winced and rubbed his reddened skin. Darion told—

Did you really think I’d let you touch me? Tolrek snapped the towel again, sending a wickedly precise smack across Halsam’s mouth. This could become my new hobby.

***

Darion and Arjan sat at the dining room table, discussing the upcoming week’s menu. Due to his Tildari heritage, Darion followed a specific diet determined by his doctor. He consulted with Arjan, to make sure the meals met the requirements, but didn’t bore his palate. This week would feature special cuts of meat, from a southern Tildari territory. Arjan wanted to know Darion’s preferred style of preparation.

Fei materialized next to Darion. Halsam is getting towel-whipped by your Pet. Should I regulate?

Darion rubbed his temples. No. I’ll see to it. He looked back at Arjan. I like what you’ve planned. Now, as you’ve heard, I have an issue to handle.

Arjan nodded, a slightly amused expression on his face. Have fun.

Darion left the dining room and walked past the wide, hardwood staircase that led up to the second floor of the house.

I’m not surprised Tolrek’s already causing trouble, Darion said.

Oh come on. Fei floated backward, smiling at Darion. "You want him to get out of hand."

Stop it, Fei.

Darion arrived at the bath hall in time to see Tolrek hitting Halsam with the towel. Darion moved swiftly to prevent another blow, clamping one hand onto Tolrek’s left shoulder.

Tolrek turned to look at him. Hello, esteemed warden.

Darion swept his eyes over Tolrek’s naked form, but Tolrek’s toned physique was not his priority.

Get into the bath, Darion said.

Tolrek planted his feet. No.

With rapid and fluid motions, Darion picked Tolrek up by an arm and a leg and hurled him into the water. The hot, soapy liquid swallowed up Tolrek. Darion’s laughter reverberated off the walls, as Tolrek sputtered to the surface.

I insist that you let Halsam clean you, Darion said.

Tolrek coughed and spat water. I’ll take care of myself.

I know you can follow basic orders. Darion knelt by the bath, holding Tolrek’s attention with a penetrating gaze. So, either Halsam scrubs you or I do. And If I have to, you'll lose skin.

Tolrek laughed. I’ll take my chances with the lightweight.

Under Darion’s vigilant watch, Halsam slipped into the bath. He waded over to Tolrek and began to tentatively wash his upper body with a sponge. With Tolrek’s hair formed in soapy clumps, he almost looked innocent. Darion waited for a few minutes, to make sure that his newly acquired Pet would behave.

***

When Tolrek was thoroughly cleaned, dried off, and had his skin nourished with scented oil, he put on the dark blue shirt and pants Halsam handed to him. Halsam led him from the bath hall to go upstairs to what would be his bedroom. Tolrek was looking around the spacious room, as a robot arrived with a silver tray. The robot placed it on the small, wooden table and uncovered the food. The scent of well-seasoned meat wafted into the air. Tolrek’s stomach rumbled, but he hesitated, eyeing the food with suspicion.

It’s not drugged, Halsam said.

Fei appeared by him.