Close Nemesis

Chapter Twenty-One: Realisation

LAIVA:

 

By now, my feet have touched the ground. It might be the cold night air, but there is a chill of realisation running down the bones of my Namuhsolian spine. Besides the yellow light from the fuel refinery cylinder, the only light I can see is coming from the orange inferno that is burning on the bridge of the crashed hover freighter.  The rest of the world is covered in darkness, now. On other worlds, night is often lit up by the glow of the moon. But, since Garbatrak doesn't have a sun, day is determined by the light of the moon's core.

 

In other words: night on Garbatrak is as dark as a black hole.

 

I don't know why I'm hesitating to hide from Rotcetorp. We've been enemies for so long, and yet, I feel like we share a connection that goes beyond our rivalry. The strong tension between us is evident of that. Also, ever since I faked my death, there has been a deep vengeance sizzling within Rotcetorp. He seems more bitter towards me. I don't know why he feels this way. I mean, I probably do. It's because he's...

 

I push that thought aside. But, I can't ignore the butterflies in my stomach. The constant churning in my stomach. They haven't stopped fluttering since Rotcetorp's brief imprisonment in my lair. It's probably because I miss Xalir, but I still worry that I'm starting to fall in love with other people besides my boyfriend.

 

Nausea sometimes creeps in as well. I feel hungry. I was feeding on rations packed inside the ship before Rotcetorp set it alight. I don't think the carpeted shipping crate I threw up in was set alight by Rotcetorp. But, I can't tell in the darkness. Night has fallen quickly on Garbatrak. The only surrounding light comes from the burning cargo ship wreck, and Rotcetorp's glowing burgundy lenses.  His lenses are almost cute, in a way. His eyepieces look like mini-computer screens, with lines of static running over them.  It's strange, but the glow of his eyepieces remind me of the glow of Xalir's hair.

 

I want to embrace Xalir once more. I wish I could've told him about my double life. About the threat of Rotcetorp. I mean, we did talk about Rotcetorp and Oppugnant from time to time, but only through social banter. And I never told him that I was actually Oppugnant.

 

I wonder how he must be feeling. He must be gut-wrenched about my death. I haven't even checked back on him since I faked my death. But, I should. Or I can at least send Zieré. I hope he's coping okay. He has lots of friends to talk to, but he really only confided to me and Aacis about his troubles. Now, he's all alone.

 

There are parts of me that wonder whether I made the right choice in faking my death. I probably did. Still, it's curious how Rotcetorp started becoming more ruthless in our battles around the same time I faked my death and left Xalir heartbroken. I've had my suspicions about Rotcetorp's identity, but this one is nagging at my mind constantly. It can't be true. If it was, then my rivalry with Rotcetorp would be pointless.

 

Xalir could have this suspicion too. That's why he kept on calling Oppugnant 'she'. He could know it's me.

 

But, Rotcetorp couldn't be Xalir. He just couldn't!

 

It makes a lot of sense. Aacis was Rotcetorp's doppelganger for crying out loud! That was when my suspicions started to arise. Xalir is obviously Rotcetorp. He has to be! That would explain the occasional black eyes he received. That would explain why Rotcetorp went after me after I faked my death. It explains everything.