"It is well known that there is a seditious element in Kurikuneku itself. It is tolerated, for the time being, because to remove it would be unjustifiably costly. This is, to be clear, a small surrender - because where there is corruption, there is always the opportunity to control that corruption."

-The High Priest Zhiren to Emperor Gaius

Not long after

Devraj chuckled wryly and leaned against the bar, looking his patron in the eyes. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it. Tell you what, the next drink’s free as long as you promise to take my advice.”

The man, already a little tipsy, quickly accepted the offer. “By all means, I’ll sooner accept your advice than listen to some stupid stranger on the radio try to tell me how I should live my life.”

“Ha. You’ve got to stop caring so much about what strangers think of your choices.” Devraj slid a glass out in front of him on the bar – it didn’t slide quite smoothly enough so he knew that it was going to be time to polish the bar again soon. He poured in a base of clear liquor. It was imported stuff, from the rainforests of Vicain, its label depicting a dense thicket with a stone ziggurat standing amidst the trees and vines.

“That’s easier said than done,” the patron muttered, fingers tracing around the base of the glass. Pathetic, Devraj thought, feeling the unguarded disgust rolling off the man. But he held himself in check. Not helpful, he reminded himself silently and went under the bar to pull out another bottle, this one containing a brightly colored juice of some kind. His hand brushed over the old, Desert-era shotgun and the small red button attached to the bottom of the bar before he returned up top. Devraj poured the juice and stirred the glass, taking a thin wooden stick and swirling it around the mixture.

“Yeah, I know it is,” Devraj said as he pushed the finished drink into the man’s hand. “But listen: next time something like this happens, instead of just shrugging it off, I want you to speak your mind and get out of there. Can’t just keep walking into these situations, you know?”

When his patron smiled, a rueful smile, Devraj drew in a sharp breath. In that young man he saw not a tired Gaurl laborer trying to relax after a hard day, but someone who was once very close to him.

Devraj’s time in the Adma was many years ago now, but the memory of those he had lost was still fresh in his mind even now. When he looked at his patron, he saw the young man running through the streets at night, a stolen Invictan rifle in his hands, and soldiers far behind him, taking aim…

He saw the young man fall, heard him scream “Run!” with the last strength in his lungs. And Devraj did run, he ran until he was sure he’d lost their pursuers and hid until the soldiers had no more interest in catching him, and only then did he crawl from the sewers and the tunnels to make his way into the city again. The streets, so new and clean atop the ruins of an old world, were a foreign land to him, and he wandered through the land like a starving man in search of a morsel and a shelter. And… he’d found that, hadn’t he?

“Uh… you alright?”

Devraj blinked. “Uh…” he glanced at the patron. “Yeah. Just remembered something. Anyway, here’s what I think you should do…”

Then the door opened and an enforcer of the Holy Alchemical Society stepped through, flanked by his assistants. He wore the white-and-gold kaftan of the Society, but Devraj easily saw the plates of armor pushing against the fabric from underneath as he walked. Quietly the enforcer approached the bar. “Hello, barkeep. We’re here to inspect your facility for contraband…”

The room was already nearly empty when the enforcer entered but now Devraj’s patrons cleared the place with little hesitation. The man he’d been speaking to – reminding him so strongly of that poor kid he’d seen die when he’d fought with the Adma – got up and made for the door. But when the enforcer spoke, he turned, and he said, “You already inspected. You have no right to be here.”

The enforcer turned to the man, who shrank away. Smiling, the enforcer said, “Oh? Did we already inspect this place?”

“That was the army, not the Holy Alchemical Society. Relax.” Devraj sighed. “You can go if you want, but I’m not cancelling your tab. Just take care of yourself out there, alright?” The young man nodded rapidly and disappeared out the door.

With the room silent and clear, the enforcer approached the bar and leaned against its opposite side. He took a sniff of the man’s drink, then took a sip. Devraj watched the enforcer’s eyes as they darted around the room, as he swirled the mouthful of beverage between his cheeks and finally swallowed. “It’s too sweet,” the enforcer said. “You should use a little bit higher alcohol content, I think. Make it more… pungent. It would be fitting, wouldn’t it? For your establishment?”

“I don’t appreciate you intimidating my patrons,” Devraj said. “I know you have a job to do but they’ve already had to deal with jumpy bureaucrats once today so it’s no wonder you got everyone in a panic. When they saw you, they probably assumed you’d come to follow up on earlier.”

“Well,” the enforcer said, glancing over his shoulder at his two assistants. He sighed, leaned against the bar, and came close to Devraj’s face. “Maybe we are following up on earlier. After all, the Invictan army inspected this place, didn’t they?”

Devraj shrugged. “I have no contraband.”

“Hmm.” The enforcer smiled. “Only… they did not come here earlier. But I know that your patron was not lying on your behalf, not intentionally – he would be too imprecise and worthless of a tool for that. No, he believed what he said.”

Devraj glanced over the enforcer’s head at the two assistants, who were now moving along the opposite wall, running their hands along the cracks. One pulled out a small wandlike objects and Devraj heard a click, then an odd pulsing beep. The object passed over large swaths of the wall at a time, beeping all the way, while the enforcer continued to speak.

Devraj tried to steady himself, but his heart was beating fast and he felt heat in his face. He tried to play it off as indignation, slamming his hand on the bar and muttering, “You know I run a perfectly legal establishment and I keep all the proper forms! And you have the gall to come in here, scare my customers, and insinuate that I’m up to something illegal… Beren, where is your shame?”

“An enforcer must have no shame,” Beren said, “because there is much in our duty that an enemy would consider shameful. And we simply cannot let those who are against us dictate how we should go about our duties. That would be pure foolishness.”

“Seems like you’ve worked it backwards, but it’s great that you have a way of justifying whatever thing you happen to feel like doing at any given moment. Very enlightened of you.”

“You’re treading on dangerous ground, Devraj…” Beren raised the glass, upended it, and downed the rest of the drink in a gulp. “You know, we could dig through your history whenever we want. We have the jurisdiction. And I’m sure something juicy might turn up…”

Devraj froze. For the first time in almost a decade he felt real, visceral fear, the kind of fear of knowing the hunters are right behind you and that they know your name. Here, he was at the mercy of a predator in his own home. Devraj’s hand inched toward the shotgun.

Crawling through the city half-naked, covered in bruises, glancing up through grates as footsteps passed overhead, wondering which time would be his last

“Tell me something Devraj, this establishment of yours, how long have you owned and operated it?”

“You have that information yourself,” Devraj said. “It’s in your records, I’m sure. If not, you have access to it. I registered my business with the city and I’ve renewed that registration every six months, which is, I would remind you, more often than I am required to do so.”

“Very well,” replied Beren.

Scrambling upward through a vertical tunnel, bracing himself against the mud-caked walls

“Is there anything else or are you going to get the fuck out of my bar now?”

“Hey, now,” Beren said quietly, whistling through his teeth. “You cannot talk that way to a representative of the Holy Alchemical Society. It’s indecorous.”

“I’m indecorous,” Devraj said, “because you’re killing my business right now and making insinuations about me in the process, and I do not appreciate slander on my name!”

“Ooh, so sensitive.” Beren clicked his tongue, smiled. “So I suppose I’ve hit a nerve?” He leaned back and said, “I already know, Devraj, what I would find if I were to go digging, because I already have gone digging.”

Devraj tried not to let the terror show

Dashing between alleyways in the dark, evading the darting flashlights as distant shots rang over the rumble of passing trucks

“Today is your lucky day, though.” And Beren jerked a thumb at his assistants, behind him. “They’re not going to give you any trouble beyond a token inspection. I just want to deliver you a message. See, here’s the thing, big guy.” Beren reached up and patted Devraj’s arm with a hand. Devraj flinched at the smaller man’s touch. His free hand hovered over the shotgun, but he didn’t dare close his fingers around it. His eyes stayed fixed on Beren’s. “I could really use a guy like you to help keep an eye on this city’s underbelly…”

“Underbelly?” Devraj laughed, forced, no amusement in it. “Does this look like some seedy underground bar to you? Go to someone else.”

“Appearances deceive, Devraj,” Beren said. “What if I did go to a ‘seedy underground bar’? I’d find a bunch of stupid fools, card players and day-drinkers, playing at being important. Every man I spoke to would claim to know the crime lords of Kurikuneku and every one of them would be lying through his teeth to impress the girl sitting next to him. Think, Devraj – if those lowlifes really knew the people they claimed to know they’d be dead before they could utter a name.” Beren’s smile was sharp, white, gleaming. He laid his hand on the table, and when he picked it up there was a gleaming coin there. It wasn’t the seal of Aivor, but the mark of the Holy Alchemical Society, on the coin. Devraj moved to push the coin back toward Beren, but Beren caught his wrist.

“Take the coin,” he said. “I will know if you discard it.”

And Devraj’s hands shook as Beren pushed the empty drink glass back over to the barkeep, made for the door, and motioned for his assistants to follow. “Thanks for the help,” Beren said as he stood at the threshold. “We’ll be in touch.”

When they were gone, Devraj turned and roared and swung his arm, sending the glass flying across the room. It shattered in a corner and Devraj knelt down behind the bar, hands up near his face. He sobbed quietly until he had no more tears to give.