“Tristan?” Morgan says again, and I have no idea how long they’ve been waiting for me to speak. I clear my throat and desperately try to focus on the task at hand.

“I don’t have time for this,” I hear someone snap through the speakers. One of the boxes on the screen is lit up. Peroni. A white-haired VP from one of the Moon Realm subchapters; 20 or 21 or something, I don’t really remember.

“No,” I say. “Wait. This is important.” Fire is coursing through my veins again—not anger this time, but determination. To do the right thing. To convince these people of the way forward. “I know all of you through my role as heir to the presidency of the Tri-Realms. My father, President Nailin, sent me to all of your subchapters to negotiate contracts that were unfair to your people, contracts that you never should have signed.”

“Like we ever had a choice,” Peroni says.

“I know that. It was wrong, what I did. I always knew that and yet I did nothing, and for that I’m sorry. But it’s time to make amends. It’s time for me to make amends, by helping you rebuild the oppressive government that gives you nothing and takes everything.”

“They provide us with leadership! The Sun Realm is responsible for everything good we have!” This time it’s Ogi speaking, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from telling the weasel to shut up!

“No, that’s wrong. I’m the only one here who has seen the inner workings of the government. All they care about—all my father cares about—is sucking the life out of you each and every day, so that they can continue to enjoy their lavish lifestyles. The time has come to take a stand. The time has come to stand together, united with the Star Realm, and take back the Tri-Realms!” I’m on my feet, my fist raised in the air, but I have no recollection of either action. My whole body feels hot, but this time I’m not running for the exit; this time I want to see the reaction.

I should have left.

“Rubbish!”

“We will never fight with the backstabbing star dwellers!”

“I’ll die before I support the Resistance!”

A chorus of other angry rebuttals pounds through the speakers and soon I can’t make out the individual comments. The boxes on the screen are all lit up and filled with a flurry of activity. Some VPs are on their feet, screaming and pointing fingers at the camera, obviously aimed at me. Some are pounding on their desks, their faces red. A handful of the VPs look as mortified as I do; they’re either staring at the camera with wide eyes or looking down at their hands awkwardly. The generals in the star dweller box are whispering to each other, shaking their heads, frowning. Only Adele’s mother is doing something different. She’s ignoring the others, looking at the camera, almost as if she’s looking right at me.

And I swear her lips are curled into a smile.

Chapter Nineteen

Adele

I find my mom in her office, and I’m starting to wonder if she ever leaves it. Her chair must be ultra-comfortable, or surely she’d have a sore butt by now.

I tap lightly on the door, which is open, and her head jerks up from some papers she’s reading.

“Well, hi there, honey.” Her greeting sounds so normal, like I’m just getting home from school and she’s at the wash basin, preparing our meager supper of dried beans and week-old bread. Like she’s not a general planning the next attack on the Moon Realm. Her voice puts me right at ease, and I feel like maybe I can talk to her like a friend again.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course we can. But I thought you’d have crashed by now. It’s been a long few weeks for you.” Her smile reminds me of when I look in the mirror. You’re so much like your mother. My father’s words, not about my looks, but about my fighting style; and yet, still relevant here.

I go to sit down on the other side of the desk, but she says, “Not here,” and stands, steps around the desk. Puts an arm around my shoulder, and I don’t shrink from her touch this time. I didn’t realize how badly my body has been craving my mother’s touch until now.

I melt into her side, wrap my arm around her back, and we walk like mother and daughter through the halls. We don’t speak and I don’t really notice my surroundings as we pass by. I know they’re gray and stone, but any subtle details escape me. I’m just living in the warmth of my mom’s hold, the slight thump of her heart beating, the gentle motion of her hand rubbing my shoulder.

We reach a door, and she momentarily releases me as she unlocks it, pushes in, flicks a switch to turn on the thinnest of lights on the ceiling. Inside is her bedroom, private and plush compared to the packed Spartan bunk rooms. A thick, red comforter hides a largish bed with at least four pillows at the head.

“This is home…for now,” she says with a wink.

I close the door behind us and she goes and sits against the bed’s headboard, her feet sprawled out on the comforter, using two pillows to prop herself up. “Let’s talk,” she says, patting the space next to her.

I so want to just start firing questions at her, stay on my feet, maintain a position of power, but my heart won’t let me. Instead, I obey, sliding next to her, my head resting on her outstretched arm, almost like the old days, when she used to comfort me after one of my nightmares about drowning.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asks innocently.

What did I want to ask her? My mind is blank—I’m lost in the beautiful glow of my mom’s love. I can feel it surrounding me and it’s so real—so different than the side of my mom that Tawni said she overheard, the side of my mom that makes her give me a gun and send me off to be part of the army. The side of my mom with secrets. Right, secrets—the army supplies, I remember. “How is the star dweller army so well-supplied?” I gaze into the fathoms of her eyes, seeking the truth.

“Trevor said you might ask me that.”

“Why are you talking about me with Trevor?” I ask. I should be angry when I ask it, but I’m not. I’m more sad, because she’s keeping secrets from me.

“It wasn’t like that, sweetheart.”

“Then what was it like?”

“He just told me you were asking him questions, questions he didn’t know how to answer, and I told him I’d take care of it.”

That’s consistent with what Tawni told me. “So what’s the story?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. The other generals have blocked me out. I had power when I was a Resistance leader, but down here I’m just the new general, with very little influence. They respect me because I can lead the soldiers and because of my experience, but they won’t let me into their inner circle. I don’t know where the money’s coming from, how they can afford all the weapons, the equipment. Trevor’s trying to find out for me, do some undercover work. He’s taking great risks for me, Adele.”

It’s not the answer I expected at all, so for a moment I’m not sure what to say. I thought my mom was at the center of some big conspiracy, involving bribery and theft and maybe even worse evils. But I can sense she’s telling me the truth—and I believe her. Perhaps she’s not the problem. Perhaps…

“What if Trevor is just pretending to help you? When really he knows the truth—is part of the truth—working with the other generals? Did you think about that possibility? That maybe he’s a spy for them?” My questions are coming fast and I know there’s heat in my words, so I look down when I finish, play with my hands, try to control my emotions.

“I thought that at first,” she says, and I look up at her. Her lips are pursed. “So I did my own digging. I’m pretty sure Trevor’s clean.”

“What if he’s not?”

“Then he’s a damn good liar,” she says, and I’m surprised. I’ve never heard her curse before.