Lies ~ Lauren Malec
Moonlight pools between my fingers, incorporeal, bright, and fleeting. Like the sleep that crowds at the edges of my mind — present but refusing to become tangible. A cruelty. I roll onto my side, tucking my arm under my head, and gaze across the room at Leigh. My roommate’s chest rises and falls in slow, steady breaths and her countenance is at ease. A far cry from the rest of the day.
I close my eyes firmly but not in another attempt to sleep. Thoughts pound behind my vision. Tears tug at my eyelids. More cruelty. I force my weary body to its feet, cast a cursory glance at Leigh, and slip out into the hall.
The sweet scent of night bloomers wafts in from the left and the stone pavers are cool beneath my feet. It’s refreshing to be out of the room, but the breeze excites my senses and pushes sleep further from my mind. I trail my fingers along the stone wall, letting the tips slide in and out of the grooves. I wish I could slip out of my agitated thoughts as easily. I move into the courtyard and pace, but it doesn’t help. A bench tucked in the recesses of the hedgerows beckons me and I answer, letting my posture slump. She’s right to be angry.
I’m the one who’s wrong to feel anything.
Why didn’t you tell me? Her words — so cliche, so dramatic, yet something I’d never thought would be directed at me — echo a thousand times over, each time more accusing and hurt.
We stood in a valley, the palace a toy on the distant hill. Tortoises, trees shivering on their large backs, had lumbered around us as they grazed lazily. A python slithered off to one side, long grasses waving from its back. The gentle relaxation of the flouronas was not reflected between us. There I stood, a heart-broken liar who now needed to abandon the friend I was strictly instructed not to make.
Leigh —
Why didn’t you tell me!
That I was a plant? That I was nothing more than a little bug sent to spy and gather intelligence on this beautiful, resource-rich planet so that the authorities above me could set a plan in motion to strip it dry? SL-49 was notorious for the difficulty of getting on. It was the farthest planet in this galactic system, had a dense atmosphere that choked out ships, and was patrolled heavily by creatures which could only be described as a form of cloud dragon. Most who saw them had sent in only crackled messages before their radios went dead. Each layer is intended to destroy on impact. Yet I made it through, with the lies and the tools I’d been given. That didn’t make me a superstar; it wasn’t unheard of. The real problem had been figuring out how to stay. If the flouronas reacted poorly — and they did, to strong emotions, to lies — you were toast. Yet I’d made it. A planted liar to sow deception and distraction until I knew of the way to bring the heavy artillery in.
Because Planet SL-49 is unique. The only planet in the known systems to have creatures, resources, and the natural landscape somehow . . . one. Every piece of the landscape is a living creature, so the result is a world constantly in flux and unmappable aside from city locations. Nothing is stagnant. One does not exist without the other. The resulting unity and prosperity is astounding and unmatched.
Unique planets don’t last long when we arrive.
Leigh’s right to be angry.
Is everything about you a lie? Did you ever tell me anything true?
Yes. And no. I hated the order of those answers.
Her raw emotions had unsettled a pack of nearby daisy pigeons, sending them scurrying away. They weren’t the only ones unsettled by my lies.
I wish I’d turned you away. I wish I’d never told Henri to give you a chance! There’s a reason we don’t go spilling our secrets to everyone, Ilithya; people like you come along with intentions of harm! Always harm. Golly, Ilithya, what is wrong with you?
It’s my duty, I’d cut in then. I’m here because I have a civic duty to fulfill for my country!
But don’t you care —
No. Another lie. In any case, what I care about doesn’t carry any weight.
The flush on her cheeks was not from the setting sun. She told me that I’d better be gone before dawn broke and that if I ever came back, alone or not, I would regret it till the day I died. That wasn’t much reason. I will already regret this mission until I die.
An oversized butterfly flits past my face, its mossy wings bringing me back to the present. Pollen bees move with purpose, humming gently around the courtyard. I stare at them, doleful, and try to reconcile my emotions with the peace around me. A cat covered in small flowering vines strolls along the courtyard wall. The flouronas seem oblivious to my pain, and I am struck with the realization that it is no longer right for me to be here. Which can only mean that it once was.
I look down at the book in my hands. My notes. A small dandelion fluff totters on the corner of the cover and I brush it off, forcing myself to ignore its giggle as it catches the wind. The book is filled from cover to cover and stuffed full of photographs, scraps of paper, and sketches. It is the reason I let Leigh in on why I’d really come.
You’re a fool, Ilithya Teslin. A fool.
My instructions were to get in, make connections, gather intel, and prep the landing site, so to speak. I checked all of those off beautifully. No one had suspected a thing and everything was ripe for the harvest. I was to slip out without an explanation, without being missed.
I couldn’t do it.
Relationships do not strengthen you, Teslin. In my mind, I am twelve years old again, sitting in the Epsilon ship that circles our home planet. My mentor speaks calmly, legs crossed and holding a steaming mug. They open a fissure for weakness. Like a wound, the longer it is held open, the more pain you inflict upon yourself. Our duty is to our country and nothing else.
But don’t you care for me?
What I care about doesn’t carry any weight. What is most important is that I train you to take my place. Come, Teslin. Let us work through that training exercise again.
I had always assumed my mentor was lying then. On the inside, she loved me. She spoke what she was supposed to because of listening ears. Before leaving the Epsilon for this mission, I’d seen her notes. I knew that I was her fiftieth ward, not her first, as she’d said, and upon completion of my wardship, she would have the choice to be promoted or retire in luxury with the government.
The government. Thriving off of lies. My mentor was found dead on the morning of her retirement. What did it do for them? What benefit did they reap from the deception they sowed?
Leigh is still sleeping soundly when I return to the room, mouth slightly open, fingers of one hand curled around her blanket. Something that used to make me smile fills me with pain. I lay down facing the wall, draw my knees to my chest, and tell myself that it doesn’t matter and I don’t care.
I shove away the notion that all I’ve ever been and all I’ll ever be is because of a lie.
When I wake at the gray of dawn, the room is empty. I secure my traitorous notes with my satchel and escape from the quiet building. The manta ray ocean is at the palace door, ready to carry me away.