Chapter 10: Orbiscarne

The automatic platforms were already guiding the ship away from the docking bay, preparing it for departure along its route. A second later, I saw Octavian in the doorway of the cabin.

Octavian was four years older than Theo. He resembled Theo quite a lot overall but was somewhat taller (though Theo was far from short himself). Lean, with long, expressive muscles that spoke not of brute strength but of endurance and skill. His hair always had this unruly whirlwind, but his most striking feature was his heterochromatic eyes. One, dark as the nights on Noctemar; the other, lighter, like our native Retgaron sky in its piercing calm. If Theo was more well-rounded, Octavian was more chaotic, uncontainable.

His presence was like gravity: invisible but inevitable. Time seemed to slow when he entered a room. I think it was his voice that created this effect—steady, almost careless.

"Greetings, Your Grace," he threw, settling into a chair with ease. Then he shifted his gaze to me, and nodded with a smile. Theo, as if casually, asked:

"How's Dem? How's Father? How's Mira's mother?"

Octavian didn't answer immediately, as if reluctant to speak about it.

"Father is fine, working. Mira, your mother already misses you, but overall, in the few weeks you've been gone, she seems to have adapted to life without you. And Dem… She's traveling."

At the mention of my mother, my heart clenched. Theo only nodded.

Demetra, Theo's sister, both resembled her brothers and stood apart from them at the same time—not only because she was the only girl in a family where their father had always focused more on his two sons. She was more withdrawn than these two—we had all studied together at the Academy on Retgaron, though Octavian, of course, was a few years ahead of us; we caught him in his final years there. When Dem turned fifteen three years ago, she too went to study at the Academy, but she chose biology—not the most popular specialization at the Academy, since Zios trained agrarians himself, and Retgaron's flora and fauna were not particularly rich. Still, Dem loved going on expeditions with her group, and she was on one right now.

We had always gotten along well with Dem, ever since she was little and would beg to test batteries with us or drag a canister of Ruby Oil after us just to be with the grown-up engineers. That's why her unexpected choice of a biological specialization was a surprise to all of us, but Dem had grown up and had become someone you couldn't easily get words out of.

The atmosphere in the cabin grew heavier—Octavian's presence seemed to have disrupted the fragile balance between all of us. I could feel his gaze on me, while Ravenmar appeared to be watching everyone. It was customary for the Emperor to appoint his family members to positions, especially now, when trusting people was so difficult. But still, a necessary façade had to be maintained, in the form of an official position being offered to them. Octavian had the education and the state credentials to have a ministerial role if Theo wished, but he wasn't rushing to hand out promises to his brother, and Gustav couldn't help but notice.

The final hours of the flight to Orbiscarne passed in exchanges of theories about the rebels and their influences, as well as most of us retreating to our cabins to rest. When I finally went to lie down myself, in our room, memories of my and Theo's sex returned to me, and although it had been incredibly passionate, I felt oddly uncomfortable and even ashamed recalling it.

Darkness thickened outside the portholes—the planet was already close.

When we stepped out of the shuttle, the heat wave hit up in the face. Orbiscarne was nothing like the icy Noctemar. Its surface was cracked, covered in white, scorching sand, beneath which, in the drilling zones, seeped red-brown stains of Ruby Oil—like blood. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky—only the merciless sun and the dust that swirled eternally in the hot air currents.

On this planet—essentially a fragment of an ancient asteroid—the mines stretched deep below, in gaping chasms that, from above, resembled wounds on the planet's body. Down in the darkness, hundreds of workers carved through rock in search of Ruby Oil, a rare resource used in imperial energy, weapon manufacturing, and a range of other technologies. Its extraction was dangerous: it seeped from deep mining fractures, pulsing as if alive, and only specialized equipment could retrieve it without causing an explosion. But even with all safety measures, not a week went by without another collapse or gas poisoning.

"Hot as hell, huh?"

I turned. Octavian stood in a mask with sun goggles, wearing a light-colored coat without epaulets, squinting into the distance. I pulled a scarf over my face—my outfit was a fitted three-piece suit with a smoking jacket, tailored from thick linen and adorned with the golden epaulets of the Consort. The shirt underneath was already getting soaked with sweat.

Theo was the last to jump out of the shuttle, armed and in an official dark green uniform, which sharply contrasted against the planet's white sands and the red patches farther away, where the road to the mines and settlements began.

The miners and their families on Orbiscarne lived in settlements that stretched in long cascades above the scorched ground. Their houses stood on stilts to avoid direct contact with the soil, which by day heated enough to burn skin and at night cooled just as rapidly. The settlements were connected by endless covered walkways, shielding residents from temperature extremes and sandstorms. The miners' city was a chaotic network of multi-level platforms, walkways, canopies, and makeshift buildings. Narrow streets, markets with old scales, dust, the scents of spices, sweat, and hot metal… It was as if past and future clashed here in endless battle, with no winner in sight.

The delegation that met us on the surface wore strict yet worn uniforms—dark coveralls with imperial patches, but their faces revealed their working-class origins. They were miners by birth, and even those among them who were members of the Council, wearing imperial insignia, were more loyal to this place than to our odd to the point of being ridiculous, grand, and impotent empire.

They looked firm, restrained, neither servile nor openly rebellious. This was not an uprising. This was something else.

The leader among them was Helmut Hermeier, from a family of contract miners, now serving as a government official here. He had risen to the rank of minister during our previous iteration but later chose to return to Orbiscarne, taking the position of Overseer and Protector of the Imperial Crimson Mines. I recalled doing a thorough background check on him, but he had seemed like an honest man simply doing his job. A stocky man with thick gray eyebrows, he spoke plainly and clearly, without a single unnecessary note in his voice:

"Emperor, Your Grace, the miners welcome you. Glory to the Empire and the Emperor."

At this, Theo nodded, and Helmut continued:

"We invite you to the Administration for a briefing. The mine inspection will be conducted according to protocol. We are glad you have come. But we must inspect the mines before sunset. Everything is prepared."

Helmut knew his job, but he looked suspiciously serious. There was no way this old hand was afraid of the Emperor, especially one so young. Emperors came and went (well, at least in Helmut's perspective), but Oil remained.

Moving across the planet's surface was complicated—every building stood on tall stilts, and getting around required either a shuttle or, once you reached the colony, navigating suspension bridges and elevators that creaked with every movement but connected buildings, structures, superstructures, and overhanging multi-story slums. We took a shuttle to the Administration, the colony's central governing hub, then ascended to the upper levels in an old elevator that, while seemingly reliable, still required the operator to control it manually. Inside, the air smelled of metal, old grease, and dust.

The Administration was worn but functional. Panels, screen terminals, even old paper documents—the system worked, though it groaned under the weight of years. Everything here spoke of resource conservation and the locals' pragmatic nature.

Only Theo and Advisor Ignat Vitovsky went into the office. They were accompanied by silent officials, but before that, Theo whispered something to Gustav, who quietly slipped away. Octavian, the others, and I remained in the waiting hall, where we were offered drinks—but honestly, drinking anything here felt risky. I noticed Octavian only pretended to sip, and the guards didn't even bother.

When Theo emerged half an hour later, his gaze was focused, his expression frozen in a thoughtful, almost stern look.

"Let's go," was all he said.

Indeed, we couldn't waste this opportunity to go to the drilling spot, or we'd have to stay here longer. You can only descend into the mines early in the morning or in the evening. During the day, the ground shifted, and at night... The nights are freezing, and locals avoid the mines after dark for safety reasons.

Our shuttle and the miners' old iron beast glided along the dusty hills, and soon we saw it. The mining system stretched in all directions like a web, edged with reddish-brown stains and spills, almost like an archipelago.

When we arrived, the scene was strange—now, at the perfect time, just before sunset, all equipment, nearest and distanced, was at a standstill. Only a few smaller pistons were running, slowly filling tanks with Oil. Maybe they had shut down the machines for the Emperor's inspection?

"Is this a strike?" Octavian asked quietly, clenching his jaw.

Helmut stood grim-faced, his gray brows knitted like storm clouds.

"This isn't a strike," he said slowly, studying Theo's expression. "The mines have been nearly empty for two months now. The Oil is gone, just as we reported to you, Your Grace."

A cold wave of unease rippled through my stomach.

Theo ran his hand over the silver fastenings of his uniform, restraining his irritation. Then he silently shifted his gaze to me and Octavian, and I knew he had the same thought that was forming in my mind: they weren't telling us everything.

But the obvious fact was right in front of us—or rather, it wasn't. The Oil was gone. And since no one had violated the Law recently, and the Empire was already conserving Oil as much as possible, this was serious.

Staying the night here was dangerous, but attempting a risky shuttle departure wasn't an option either. In the dark, Orbiscarne changed. We were led into the long corridors of the stilted structures, all interconnected—a real labyrinth teeming with life. Children laughed and ran through the narrow passages, music played somewhere, and miners rested—it made perfect sense now that they did not look tired at all after the day, given the state of the mines.

Theo and I were assigned a room in the diplomatic quarters, next door to Octavian and the rest of the delegation. Guards were stationed closely, and the corridors locked with iron doors and even outdated but effective energy shields.

"I'll work with the numbers for a bit," Theo said, but I had the feeling that after this fresh revelation, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

I took advantage of the only real comfort available: a hot bath. The water here was heated directly by the planet's core, meaning there was no need to conserve it, and after the long journey, a hot bath was a true blessing. I sank in slowly, letting the warmth seep into every muscle, worn out from travel, exhausting tours, and our rough sex on the ship before arriving. The heat also cleared my head, allowing me to process the news in a blissful energy-saving mode. Then, wrapped in an old but soft blanket, I settled onto the mismatched cushions and let sleep take me.

The night here lasted fourteen hours—we were stuck until morning at the very least, and I had no idea what to do next with all loose ends that I—we—had.. So I planned to sleep well.

In the feverish haze, as if at dawn and in the densest darkness of the blackest night all at once, as if my consciousness had turned into a bird soaring over the Empire, both weightless and impossibly heavy, I dreamed of Zios.

I was running through tall grass, my feet sinking into its damp softness. Ahead, moving through the silvery mist, was a figure. Victoria. Then she stopped in the grass, barefoot, disheveled, turning to me, her eyes gleaming in the dark.

"He sleeps," she whispered.

The grass swayed around her as if she were part of this place, its embodied secret. Victoria stepped closer, seizing my hand, leaning in so that her warm breath brushed my ear:

"He sleeps. Find the sleeper."

The world crumbled into shadows.