Cuddling herself with her feet up on the backseat of the expansive off-road rover, Mira shivered with such a violent chill.
She tugged at Warshon's trench coat, her vision growing a blur, her ragged breath wheezing in her throat.
Mom! Dad! Reynold!
She screamed in her head and choked, tears flowing unbidden, every inch of her skin a stinging pain that burned like ice. The car door opened. She heard the skirling wind. A shaft of light shone in with a distinctive waft of cedar scent amidst the saltiness of the sea.
"Hey," a man's gravelly voice clipped in. "Can you hear me?" Holding her in his arms, he pried open her mouth and put in the inhaler. "Breathe in," he commanded.
She did as bid and gasped when he pressed the inhaler, then plopped as she slipped out of his grip.
"Don't lie down," He held her up, pulling her back up into his arms. "I need you to sit up and breathe. Can you do that?"
"It's so cold…" she whimpered, her voice shattering into a fit of cough.
He clapped her back and wrapped the trench coat around her. "To the clinic and make it quick." He turned his eyes front to the driver's seat.
"Nah, boss," said the one driving, his headful of tight curls bobbling while he angled to a side and pulled the rover off the curb. "Too many eyes at the clinic," the young man continued, darting a glance back at Mira. "You wouldn't want anyone to see her, right?"
Her? Mira bit her lip, her breath hitched, her hands squeezing the collar of his coat. Since when? For how long? She lifted her eyes, risking a glimpse of the man while clinging to his chest.
"I don't care," he said, a rush in his voice. "We'll figure something out later. But she needs treatment now."
"Treat her at home," replied the young man while he tossed his head to a shoulder. "When you asked me to pick you up from the pier, I thought you were dying. So, I've packed all the emergency equipment in the trunk."
Warshon chuckled. "Good call."
"Really? Didn't someone just say that my observational skills were slacking, or something like that?" he jested, his eyes squinting at the rearview mirror.
Warshon glanced down at her. "She could pass for a boy before puberty. I've been too harsh on you. I apologize." Then, he held her chin, lifting her face toward him. His hand felt cold on her skin. "So, girl," he crooned. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"
She whimpered, her head shaking in his grip.
"No?" His chuckle came short and crisp. "How about the mosquito bites you have on your neck? Be a good girl and tell me the truth. Have you been to Domitian Penisula lately?"
"Damn karma," biting her lip, she breathed the words through her teeth.
"Karma?" asked the one driving while tossing back a glance. "What karma?"
Mira shut her eyes in despair. Who would have thought that her plan to cash in on the low-grade malaria vaccine would backfire so quickly? "I don't have malaria, do I?" She ventured a glance at the man holding her.
Warshon lowered his head; a subtle smile glanced off his onyx eyes. "You'll be fine," he said, his gravelly voice soft on her skin. "I promise." Then, he looked ahead. "How far are we?"
"Twenty minutes."
"Don't spare the horses."
"Sure, boss," the young man in the driver's seat gave a dismissive shrug, a headful of tight curls bobbing. He turned on the radio. "This will make the time fly."
"Not now, Erdem," Warshon sighed, his muscle flexed pulling her up, his thumb skimmed the back of her ear. "I don't want another of your trendy tunes to burst my eardrums."
"You need to hear this," was all the young man said in reply.
On the radio, it played the Republican debate held in Enkera last night. A man's voice blasted, deep and charismatic, calling for union. "We cannot thrive alone in this world, be it the First or the Third World. And the Republic must strengthen its relationship with allies, our friends in the south, so we can withhold the tyranny of the Tamen Government, and turn the page! A new race of humanity awaits us if we can all work together! And in this new age, we will pray on no one but ourselves! A new Man, self-reliant and brimming with grace! Assertive and unapologetic! We will become our own God! That's the promise I pledge to you and your children!"
Mira popped her eyes open, her head slowly turning to the front.
Mustafa Agca.
The name hitched in her throat.
Many years ago, when she was still a little girl, Mustafa was a frequent house guest at the residence of de Armas, who saw Daddy as his mentor. And every time he visited, he showered Mira with the latest toys other children could only wish for. Unlike others who bought her dolls she never cared to open, Mustafa indulged her with the latest video game gadgets and model race cars. For quite a part of her childhood, he played so well a role as the cool uncle, and he was her favorite. "You're spoiling my Mira," Daddy said the last time they met, as he had done so many times before. And like the many times before, the man came for Daddy to join forces with him on the Eternal Project. Clinging to the wisteria vine as she hung below the balcony outside Daddy's study, she couldn't hear every word they spoke, but as young as she was, she felt the tension undertow. When the man left, she found Daddy in his study. Snuggling up to him on his lap, she whispered, "Uncle Mustafa looked pissed when he left." Daddy laughed – his cackles ringing still between her ears whenever she summoned them – "Did you piss him, Daddy?"
A wry smile passed his eyes as he looked at her. "Mira," he said. "Everything in this world should come to its natural end, without which, there won't be new beginnings, and the cycle is the only eternity," pausing with a long sigh, he turned his eyes to the window, at the threads of clouds whirling to catch the setting sun. "Perhaps my friendship with Mustafa has come to its natural end."
Two months later, their car crashed.
"Everything should come to its natural end." Words trembled on her lips, her eyes staring wide. "Without which, there won't be new beginnings…" Stifling the unbidden tears swelling fat in her eyes, she gulped. His gaze was hot on her – she could feel it. She ducked her head. The fat tears she was just able to hold fell and splattered on the back of his hand.
"What's wrong?" He held her cheek, wiping off the tears with a thumb.
Unlike any asthma attack she had in the past, a stabbing pain tore in her chest. She scrabbled in a blind panic, her ragged breath dispersed before ever reaching her lungs.
"How much further?" Warshon shouted.
"Two minutes, boss. Boy, put wings on this thing, I might be able to fly it…"
The voice trailed off, and her world quieted. Between darkness and light, a softness perched on her lips. Her heart fluttered, followed by a blow of cedar-scented air in her lungs, like a hand reaching for her while she was clinging to the precipice of death, and she leaped to grab it.