Juma and Sophia opened the door. With [Phantasm] active, I hid in the corner of the room, invisible and intangible. The duo walked in, making a beeline for Neo Saintarelli’s things.
“When I find him, I’m going to make sure he suffers painfully before I kill him.”
“…so, you really are High Eminent Sophos’ daughter?”
“What of it?”
“Nothing. Just… surprised.” Juma shrugged. “I grew up in an orphanage. There were only three of us at first. I, Niha, and Kuri. We used to make jokes that one day we’d try to make friends with an Eminent’s kid and show them all the good stuff they’ve missed out in life.”
Sophia snorted. “And what exactly are three orphans from the Middling Slums supposed to show me?”
“How to have an awesome summer. Catching thunderflies that appear after a storm. Storing mud during the rain and using it to have a mud-fight to cool off on the hotter days. Baking bean-buns by the dozen to sell at the bi-weekly market, and then using the profits to buy frozen-cocoa eggplants and peppered cassava sticks. There was even one time, we snuck into Father Goma’s office and “borrowed” his bottle of Gabani Spirit Ale. It was Niha’s idea – and it ended with a drunken dance battle –”
“Why, exactly, are you telling me any of this?”
They reached Neo’s bed and belongings, and I noticed Juma cross his arms as he shrugged.
“Because Saintarelli wasn’t wrong –”
“Excuse me?” she snapped at him.
“I didn’t finish.” He said immediately. “Only idiots think gender matters when it comes to who to listen to and who not to. Same thing with age or class – I mean, General Hoplite is younger than both of us but that won’t stop him from destroying us with the flick of his pinky.”
“So how wasn’t Saintarelli wrong?”
“Most of the recruits in the Lance Brigade are Middlings like me or Saintarelli… and they won’t get it. It’s different, where we come from. Prominent and Eminent women are just as powerful, if not more so than their male counterparts. but most Middling women either do petty trade at the markets or work at the softer Warehouses or are just typical mothers and homemakers.”
“And that makes them weak?’
“It makes them different.?” Juma explained. “The average Middling woman will lose nine out of ten times to the average Middling man. Saintarelli is seeing things from that view. Simply change his view would by reminding him you’re not the average Middling woman.”
“…that’s surprisingly decent advice, coming from you.”
“I have my moments.”
Neo’s, or rather, my box was dragged out. A small little briefcase-like thing with combination looks embedded on the front. “This is it.”
“Do you think we’ll find something that’ll tell us where Neo fled to?”
“We have to. I didn’t come this far just to let someone else’s cowardice be my downfall.”
Sophia slammed her fists against the lock, while Juma hummed. “I don’t think Neo’s planning on deserting.”
She slammed it a second time. “Why else would he turn off his tracer and his comms?”
“It doesn’t add up. If he wanted to desert, he wouldn’t do something to draw attention to himself. If anything, turning off his tracer is almost as subtle as wearing a giant sign that says ‘look at me, I’m doing something suspicious.’”
Sophia scoffed. She slammed the lock a third time. “Then what theory do you have to explain it?”
“Neo’s hiding something – something he doesn’t want people to find out. His reaction when he saw me was odd, and then there’s how he managed to slip away unnoticed while he was standing in the middle of formation. People said they never noticed him leave, though everyone was tossing slurs at you at the moment so it’s possible they were preoccupied, but still he’s never displayed that level of stealth before. The only people I’ve heard of that are that good at sneaking are Double E.”
“You think our roommate is an agent of the Eminency of Espionage?”
“Call it a gut feeling.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would the Double E send a spy into the AAA? Besides, the higher-ups have our Godscript records. If he really was a spy, they wouldn’t let him stay.”
“Unless he’s got clearance from somewhere even higher,” Juma said, crossing his arms. “Your dad is the High Eminent of Progress right? So, you’ve probably been around the other High Eminents before. Is there any relation between the High Eminent of Espionage and the High Eminent of War?”
With one final hit, Neo’s box snapped open. The contents spilled unto the floor. Clothes, provisions, some minor trinkets, but most importantly, the items I put in place to fit everything.
Juma picked up the paper, brows furrowing. “Why are there so many notes?”
Sophia’s lips curled into a snarl. “These notes are written in Marién.”
“What, children of High Eminents don’t take language classes?”
“That’s ––”
“Relax, I’m joking. Pass it here.” Juma took the papers, blinking. “Ah, letters from dearest dad Jacques Saintarelli… interesting… I wasn’t aware we were allowed to receive letters.”
“We aren’t. Not yet. Not until we complete our first Mission.”
“So that means Neo here has been illegally communicating with daddy dearest. Explains the shadiness.” Juma scrolled through the parchment. “Oh… interesting.”
“What is it?”
“…apparently Neo’s here on a task. The letter is written in a way that makes it look like his dad is just asking about life and telling him about his siblings, but when you rearrange every third letter from the right, switch the diacritics used on the vowels and read it from right to left as if reading Qe’al Sos, the letter has an entirely different message.”
“A different message?”
“Neo’s here to spy on someone. The message doesn’t say who or why – just that he should do his best to increase in level and rank, and when it was time, he’d
