Inner Mechanisms III

“So your plan is to screw everyone over, then?”

Haruki’s face scrunched, his stare trying but failing to burn a hole in Flare’s facade. Her gaze remained affixed on the chunk of Titanseye, sparing only little glances at the two other people in the room.

“You have such harsh words for it,” she said, unflinching. “Call it a rerouting of goals.”

Anemone shifted in her seat. “The raid... You didn’t do it to free the slaves, did you?”

“Ever heard of shooting two birds with one stone? This is pretty much it. Just because I tried to strike gold by raiding an unsanctioned slave trade, it doesn’t mean I didn’t have good intentions for the innocents involved.”

“So what’s your plan here?” Haruki asked.

“I held their little island hostage, and…” Flare grinned. “I’ll change the deal. Instead of the riches promised, I’ll have the island and have my workshop built there. Sans the slaves, of course. My pirates will be there, and we’ll build our own society there—the society denied to us by birthright.”

“In exchange?”

“I trade in the princess as usual. But you,” she pointed at Haruki. “I ain’t giving you in. You’re coming with us, lad.”

Haruki’s stare grew cold. “I can’t do that.”

“Why, you have somewhere you need to be?”

He nodded and glanced at Anemone. “I do. We do.”

“Where else could you possibly go? Back to Sapian territory? To the Federacy? Didn’t you tell me in passing you weren’t even a Sapia? Calling yourself a human, whatever that is.”

Haruki turned his attention to the Titanseye on Flare’s hand. “If I explained, would you even believe me? Your mind seems to be elsewhere.”

“I don’t understand.” Anemone’s voice pitched down with uncertainty. “If I’m still your bargaining chip, then why let us free at risk of us just leaving?”

Flare closed her eyes, then let out a breath. “Because I know you can’t leave anyway.”

“How so?”

She paced forward and thumbed her chest. “Because I took a look at Haruki’s machine. Your machine runs on some sort of liquid, and it’s clear it’s a kind of fuel—and you don’t have a lot of it. You’re scared of flying blind in such a big sea. And you’d be right to be.”

Anemone turned to Haruki. “Wait, you didn’t tell me…”

Feeling the heated gaze of the two ladies around him, Haruki looked away, embarrassed. “Because I didn’t expect you to understand.”

“Why would I not understand?”

“I mean, think about it. What could any of us have possibly done about it? I can’t just dig somewhere and get gas I could use for the plane. It’s not that simple.”

Anemone frowned and looked to the ground. “If I knew, maybe I wouldn’t have pushed you to go all this way.”

Haruki hissed. “This is exactly why I couldn’t tell you. I knew you’d feel responsible for me. But the thing is, I wanted this. I also wanted what’s best for you.”

“So you’re just deciding things for me now? Am I just a child to you, Sir Haruki?” Anemone’s voice quivered.

Flare stomped. The thud seemed to have cooled the tension between Haruki and Anemone. Her attention seemed to finally turn away from the Titanseye chunk.

“My offer still stands, Haruki.”

He shook his head. A firm denial. “I still want to fly towards the Inverted City. I want to go home.”

“You’ll fail,” Flare said. “But if you come with me, we’ll try to outfit your machine with enough Titanseye to—wait,” she interrupted herself. “Inverted City? Go home? What nonsense are you babbling about?”

Haruki spared Anemone a glance aside, as if expecting her to answer. She understood exactly what he was better than he did, no doubt.

“He’s an otherworlder,” she said with a nod. “And we suspect the Inverted City could be a key to getting him back to his world.”

“An otherworlder, huh.” Flare tapped her foot, thoughts obviously racing in her head. “That explains so many things, actually.”

She doesn’t seem too surprised. How strange. Haruki wondered if otherworlders are not as rare in this world as he thought they were.

“So now that you know,” Haruki said. “Do you understand?”

“I do,” Flare chuckled once. “And I understand that what you’re planning is madness. Nobody has ever reached so far up to touch the Inverted City before.”

“I can. With my plane.” Haruki paused, then his voice flinched. “I think.”

“You probably can—with Titanseye.”

“That’s your guess.”

“And your I think is any better?”

Haruki crossed his arms and leaned on the chair’s backrest, the wood creaking under his weight. “Then we’re at an impasse.”

“So we are.”

Anemone coughed, clearing her throat and calling attention to herself. “Flare,” she called out. “Your people love you.” Her expression turned sour as she said so, as if she said something she wished were true for herself. “They’ve been counting on my appearance for years, like you have. If you go through with the deal, you’re just making them slaves to your decision, too.”

“What?” Flare blinked. “No, they’re not slaves. They’re my men. They will follow me to that goal. We’re all outcasts. What outcast doesn’t desire to return—or at least, build a place where they can belong?”

“Look around you,” Anemone said resolutely. “This is the place where they belong. Have you even asked them if they want to be part of your plan? Or were you going to make that decision, hoping they’d just… go with it? Are you going to take their loyalty for granted?”

“N-No, I—”

“I understand you have a dream. I don’t fully understand it—and I don’t think I ever will. But is it worth potentially ruining all the good you’ve built up all this time?”

Flare kept silent, but affixed her eyes on Anemone. It looked like she was trying to intimidate her, but her weary expression resembled more a defeated lion than a threatening predator.

Anemone continued. She exhaled, letting stress leave her voice as her tone grew gentle. “If you’re gonna make a decision,” she glanced at Haruki, expression stern. “At least let them know. And make that decision together.”

An exasperated sigh left Flare. “You sure talk like you’re not the one I’m about to trade to some strange Sapias.”

“Your crew deserves this much,” Anemone said. “But don’t let go of your goal just as easily. Look, even Sir Haruki’s doing everything he can to go home. He must have a place just like this one back there.”

Her words slammed Haruki’s chest. His gut dropped. Wait, do I?

Was there a place just like the Redwing Pirates waiting for him back on earth? Who was waiting for his return? Who wanted him to come back?

His thoughts drifted to Mr. Junk, one of the only remaining people who actively cared for him as himself.

Then he thought of his uncle back home—always absent, never answering the phone, and whenever he was home, Haruki wished he would just never show up again. He was better as a loud, crass voice over the phone over some bumbling, lazy idiot doing nothing but drinking all day in front of the TV.

Then there was Ako, who was good as dead back on Earth, but allegedly alive here in this strange new world. But at this rate, was she an enemy? A friend? A neutral, ambivalent party? Was there even any chance of them getting back together? Would he want to? Did he want to?

Did Haruki want to even go home?

Or was he drawn to home just because he belonged there?

Haruki groaned and rubbed his temple. “Whatever it is, I’m not going with your plan,” he said, then looked at Anemone. “And I’m not gonna let the Federacy take you. If they’ve had a bounty on you for years, nothing good can come of that.”

Anemone tilted her head. “Then what do we do?”

“I don’t know.” He was at a loss, but he couldn’t accept things as they are now, and would be later.

A knock on the door broke the silent equilibrium between the three. Without delay nor permission, Warren entered the room and gave a sailor’s salute.

“Warren!” Flare crossed her arms, cheeks red with anger. “How many times are you going to disregard the blasted sign on my door?”

“Princess,” he said, voice grim and low. “You have to report on deck. The Commander of the Western Navies is here to parlay.”