Right Back After This

Episode 3

Ares gestures at the armchair. "Take a seat for me," he says, as he rounds his desk. He doesn't sit down. Instead, he's at the window, regarding the glittering glass of the vast city-complex that covers this entire moon. Above that, taking up most of the sky, sits Bryten, emerald green and deep blue, although the cities are like spilled sequins lending credence to the title of goldworld. One of the suns bathes the whole scene in red light, the other sun's bluer shades forming a halo around Bryten, shining through its rings. Riz is not easily impressed anymore, but vastness still stuns him- and terrifies him.

"Do you prefer Riz?" Ares asks. "Or Idris?"

Riz hasn't heard his full name in, he'd bet, years. "Um- uh. Either?"

There's this crackling static in the air; not audible, not physical, but felt as materially as either of those things. It's in the way Ares rolls up his sleeves, like he has all the time in the world, and Riz realises with a shock that he does. For a moment, he is a mouse caught in a trap.

The beasts they called mice on Majadha were huge and poisonous, so Riz never really understood that metaphor. He supposes it's still apt- because he can spit acid if he needs to.

"Are we completely off camera?" is what Riz asks. He genuinely doesn't believe it. He's checking that the trap is real, first, and then he will decide how to escape it. If he even should. "Nothing in this room is getting out?"

"Of course not." Ares says it like it's obvious. His voice is low and even, and Riz wants to be comforted, but he can't be. "Do you need me to prove it to you?"

Riz's shaking hands grip the edge of his sweater. All the possibilities that are crossing his mind are horrifying- most of them end in him getting burnt out, but there are worse ones. Few authority figures are kind without watchful eyes.

"Yes," Riz mutters under his breath. It's not the right answer, if this were really some test, and that reinforces the unsteady racing of his heart.

Ares sighs. "My name is Ares Karian. My social security number is s569k42z. I live at 61/52 Allied Walk, Atroit, on Newcal. I received this job through nepotism from my elder brother and I'm not qualified. I've committed at least two counts of embezzlement from this company already. Now, tell me." He faces Riz with a smirk. "Does that sound like information I'd readily admit to your eight billion fans?"

Riz's heart is still in his throat. "If it was a lie, yes. If this was some kind of test."

Ares is an imposing figure, tall and broad, and he straightens up to his full height as he approaches. Riz still hasn't sat down- he refuses to let Ares see him shrink. "You're not acting like you do on camera," is the simple observation that shows he recognises Riz's heart. "You're supposed to be the dumb one."

"What do you want?"

Ares claps a hand on Riz's shoulder, and Riz has to make the conscious decision to hold still, to not flinch. Hiding the truth has been his whole life, whether that's in order to steal and keep your life, to sin and keep your cover, or to break the rules and keep your job.

"I know what you did," Ares says, "...so if it were a test, you failed before you entered this room."

Riz is not supposed to be confrontational. In this moment, he should blink slowly, tilt his head, mutter in confusion, play it off like he couldn't possibly have known better.

Instead, he lifts his chin. "Go on, then. What did I do?"

Ares raises an eyebrow, and takes a step back; for a moment, he's not a threat, he's just a man. That's probably what he was going for, but Riz is too used to detecting threats in the shadows. "Don't worry," Ares says, "I'm going to keep you out of trouble. Regardless of what you choose."