The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

Raevyn seemed to sigh, and then looked over at me expectantly. “Yes?”

It occurred to me to lie yet again, even though I had just told Sage the truth less than a minute ago. And yet, I couldn’t justify it. Odd as these people were, they were also the only contact with another civilization that my country had ever had. It was exhilarating, as well as terrifying, but more than that, it meant that we could start forming a relationship with this civilization. We could learn each other’s cultures… histories… maybe even piece together whatever information they knew about the Fall.

“No one is coming for me,” I finally said, just as Devon stepped out farther from behind Raevyn. “I don’t tell you that as permission to keep me or my people here, just that you don’t have to worry about any more of us. I could’ve lied, maybe used it as a threat to get us out of here.”

“Why didn’t you?” asked Devon sharply, his long arms folding across his chest.

“Because I think there is more that we could offer each other than that. I mean, I’m only speaking for myself, but I’m sure my people would love to meet your people.”

“Come here?” Raevyn exclaimed, her eyes going wide. “Oh no, we don’t have the resources to support any more mouths.”

“Oh yes, that will certainly happen,” added Sage, his sarcasm a touch more somber than before. He carefully adjusted a few instruments on a nearby tray, his mouth turned downward a little bit before ticking back up slightly. “You should just get back in your air canoe, and float away.” He reached up abruptly, and I ducked down reflexively, watching as he tore off several sheets of the same kind as the one now encasing my arm.

He dropped them in a white bag, as well as the scanner and a few more items. “Are you going somewhere?” I asked.

A dimple appeared in his cheek as he smiled, and he nodded. “I am indeed. We have finally heard from the mysterious Scipio. He’s allowing me to go tend to your friends!”

I stared as he hopped around to fully face me, his arms spread wide and an enthusiastic grin on his face. He seemed to be waiting for something, but I didn’t move, uncertain as to what was even happening. After several long heartbeats, he sort of… deflated, although he still stood tall and proud. But there was a disappointment in the lowering of his hands and the slow deconstruction of his smile.

“Thank you?” I said, after a moment, looking at Raevyn and Devon for any sign of… something. That this was normal? I wasn’t even really sure at that point.

“You’re quite welcome, Miss Bates,” he rumbled almost petulantly. “But the time for hugs has ended.”

“I’m so—”

“I said good day, Miss!” His tone was curt, as were his motions as he snatched up the bag and marched off, placing what I assumed was an invisible hat on his head. Devon pushed the door open for him as he strutted by, and then he disappeared, Devon pulling the door closed behind him.

“There is something very terrifying about that man,” breathed MacGillus, and Jathem reached over and smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

“Don’t say that about him,” the Knight Elite chided softly.

“You really shouldn’t,” added Raevyn. “You try getting to be ninety-two years old without having a few screws knocked out.”

“He’s ninety-two years old?” I exclaimed, my breath escaping from me. “Seriously?”

Raevyn turned, her face immediately turning red as she realized her mistake. She crossed her arms and gave an imperious shake of her head. “We are going to have to take extra care with what we say in front of her from here on out.”

“Indeed.” Devon’s eyes had returned to me, and I shifted, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The gun was still in my hand, although it was resting in my lap now. I had stopped pointing it long ago, but the urge was back. “Knight Elite Dreyfuss, what is your assessment of Miss Bates?”

“Sir?” Jathem seemed surprised, and Devon turned, his hands going behind his back and clasping at the wrist.

“Not the report. I understand the question is vague. But just… her. What can you tell me through observation?”

“She’s curious, sir,” Jathem said without hesitation. “But she talked first, even after I had zapped her.”

“She also stopped me from going over the edge, sir,” added MacGillus. “I was racing right for her, and she could’ve let me fall, but she didn’t.”

“She wanted to know how to avoid any offense in her actions and deeds,” Jathem cut back in smoothly over MacGillus. “She kept up with us on the stairs for a while, but she must have been in a lot of pain and clearly exhausted, which means she’s strong-willed.” I yawned at that, and then smiled at him, grateful he had noticed.

“She’d make a good knight,” finished MacGillus, his eyes darting over to look at me.

I watched the exchange with no small amount of amusement. It was clear they were new to working together, but it reminded me a little bit of when Viggo and Owen bickered. It wasn’t exactly the same dynamic, but the feeling was still there, and it was enough to send a pang of longing through me.

“Did she use the thing in her hand at all?” Devon prompted. “Can you even be sure it’s a weapon?”

“What are you getting at, Devon?” asked Raevyn, leaning a hip against a wall and crossing her arms.

“There doesn’t appear to be any power source on that thing. For all we know she’s wielding a tool, Raevyn, and trying to keep the threat on us. We can seize her, and her weapon, and take that flying thing apart. And we should. Just see reason here.”

“Devon, the girl has given us no cause to disbelieve her. She has actively reacted to threats to her person, and even then has chosen talk over violence. And your obsession with that flying contraption is just from being cog-bred. You know that…”

She trailed off, a frown passing over her face. I watched as the four other humans opposite me all went still, as if listening very intently. One by one their eyes dragged over to me, and there was suddenly caution there, and, clearly, in Devon’s, downright anger.

Before any one of them could take a step toward me, I raised the gun toward the ceiling and squeezed the trigger.

The gunshot sounded loud in the small room, but I was ready for it, as I was for the small spark the bullet made as it hit the ceiling. The remains of the slug fell down with a sharp ding, and I lowered the gun to aim it at the others, who were flinching, their hands cupped over their ears. Devon’s baton was in his hand, even cupped over his ears, while Raevyn was looking at me with alarm. Jathem openly gaped at me, his eyes wide, while MacGillus, sadly, cowered behind him, looking shaken and downright terrified.