“I didn’t answer her right away. Instead I watched your brother as he shook hands with the nurse. He turned around, searching for me, and then spotted me by the jeeps. He waved me over, and I nodded, careful to keep my face blank. ‘Understood, Commander,’ I finally answered.
“‘You can do it, Bryant,’ she told me. ‘And if you’re successful, consider yourself promoted to captain.’ The call cut off.
“I joined Metias and another soldier at the hospital entrance. Metias smiled at me. ‘Another long night, eh? I swear, if we’re stuck here until dawn again, I’ll whine to Commander Jameson like there’s no tomorrow.’
“I forced myself to laugh along. ‘Let’s hope for an uneventful night, then.’ The lie felt so smooth.
“‘Yes, let’s hope for that,’ Metias said. ‘At least I have you for company.’
“‘Likewise,’ I told him. Metias glanced back at me, his eyes hovering for a beat, then looked away again.
“The first minutes passed without incident. But then, moments later, a ragged slum-sector boy dragged himself up to the entrance and stopped to talk to a nurse. He was a mess—mud, dirt, and blood smeared across his cheeks, dirty dark hair pulled away from his face, and a nasty limp. ‘Can I be admitted, cousin?’ he asked the nurse. ‘Is there still room tonight? I can pay.’
“The nurse just continued scribbling on her notepad. ‘What happened?’ she finally asked.
“‘Was in a fight,’ the boy replied. ‘I think I got stabbed.’
“The nurse glanced over at your brother, and Metias nodded to two of his soldiers. They walked over to pat down the boy. After a while, they pocketed something and waved the boy inside. As he staggered past, I leaned closer to Metias and whispered, ‘Don’t like the look of that one. He doesn’t walk like someone who’s been stabbed, does he?’
“Your brother and the boy exchanged a brief look. When the boy had disappeared inside the hospital, he nodded at me. ‘Agreed. Keep an eye on that one. After our rotation’s done, I’d like to question him a bit.’”
Thomas pauses here, searching my face, perhaps for permission to stop talking, but I don’t give it.
He takes a deep breath and continues. “I blushed then at his nearness. Your brother seemed to sense it too, and an awkward silence passed between us. I’d always known about his attraction to me, but tonight it seemed particularly naked. Maybe it had something to do with his weary day, your university antics throwing him off, his usual air of command subdued and tired. And underneath my calm exterior, my heart hammered against my ribs. Find a way to get Captain Iparis to a private spot tonight. I don’t care how you do it. This vulnerability would be my only chance.”
Thomas looks briefly down at his hands, but carries on.
“So, sometime later, I tapped Metias on the shoulder. ‘Captain,’ I murmured. ‘Can I speak to you in private for a moment?’
“Metias blinked. He asked me, ‘Is this urgent?’
“‘No, sir,’ I told him. ‘Not quite. But . . . I’d rather you know.’
“Your brother stared at me, momentarily confused, searching for a clue. Then he motioned for a soldier to take his place at the entrance and the two of us headed into a quiet, dark street near the back of the hospital.
“Metias immediately dropped some of his formal pretense. ‘Something wrong, Thomas? You don’t look well.’
“All I could think was treason against the Republic. He would never do it. Would he? We’d grown up together, trained together, grown close. . . . Then I remembered my commander’s orders. I felt the sheathed knife sitting heavily at my waist. ‘I’m fine,’ I told him.
“But your brother laughed. ‘Come on. You’ve never needed to hide anything from me before. You know that, right?’
“Just say it, Thomas, I told myself. I knew I was teetering between the familiar and the point of no return. Force the words out. Let him hear it. Finally, I looked up and said, ‘What is this between us?’
“Your brother’s smile wavered. He grew very silent. Then he took a step back. ‘What do you mean?’
“‘You know what I mean,’ I told him. ‘This. All these years.’
“Now Metias was studying my face intently. Long seconds passed. ‘This,’ he finally replied, emphasizing the word, ‘can’t happen. You’re my subordinate.’
“Then I asked, ‘But it means something to you, sir. Doesn’t it?’
“Something joyful and tragic danced across Metias’s face. He drew closer. I knew that a wall between us had finally formed a crack. ‘Does it mean something to you?’ he asked me.”
Again, Thomas pauses. Then, in a softer voice, he says, “A blade of guilt twisted painfully in my chest, but it was too late to turn back. So I took a step forward, closed my eyes, and—I kissed him.”
Another pause. “Your brother froze, like I thought he would. There was complete stillness. We drew apart, the silence heavy around us, and for a moment I wondered whether I’d made a huge mistake, whether I’d simply misread every signal from the past few years. Or perhaps, perhaps he knew what I was up to. I felt a strange sense of relief at that thought. Maybe it’d be better if Metias figured out Commander Jameson’s plans for him. Maybe there’s a way to get out of this.
“But then he leaned forward and returned the kiss, and the last of that wall crumbled away.”