Page 9 of The Quoram Effect

“You know there will be others who’ll commend her for it.” Lieutenant General Klauss from Custopys sprung to mind. “How did she find out…about the supply runs?”

“I don’t know, but if last week was anything to go by, people are growing suspicious.” Torz rubbed his forehead vigorously, his mind working frantically to conjure a solution. “I need to ground the supply runs for now.”

“I hate to point it out,” I started, trying to suppress the anxiety he was bombarding me with, “but you have a meeting with Chaz tomorrow.”

He groaned. “If Zuli knows about my work with the Purans, I refuse to make this easy for her. I can’t lead her to my contact.”

“I’ll go,” I said. “Marla Hyde is here for a reason. You need to lay low and keep her busy. I’m good at being invisible.”

To my relief, Torz agreed.

Chapter Four

“That meeting disturbed you,” the silver-haired god drawled from behind me as I stared out the inwardly curved window, like I did every night in this dream.

I shook my head. Worry had been trickling through my veins, consuming my every thought since the governor left Torz’s office that afternoon. Her demands were deplorable. She wanted to murder every single Puran. No one in their right mind would condemn anyone—convict or not—to suffer such an excruciating death.

And to blackmail Torz into politically backing her…

“I despise that woman,” I muttered.

“Are you sure you aren’t riled by the mention of rejected Damsons?”

I whipped my head around, finding the Damson God lounging in my dining chair, pouring a glass of wine.

“Don’t start that again!” I snapped. “I don’t care about that—”

“It needs to be talked about.”

“I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Come sit with me, Remi.”

I turned back to the window, my heart thundering in my chest like a charged storm cloud. It reflected the swirling silver clouds mere miles below, spiralling and twisting as if I controlled them. If only I had the power to do such things.

But what if Zuli was right about the population numbers? What if theyweredetrimental? I could’ve helped.Torz and Icould’ve helped. But it was too late. The Damson magic was gone, rejected. Wasted.

I closed my eyes, digging my nails into my palms. No pain. There was no pain. This was a dream, but still, I could feel the rawness of my soul being ripped and torn in various directions, shredded by desire, duty, and my past. The lack of control I had over the reality of the situation was a growing itch, gnawing away at my composure, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or cry.

A tall figure appeared to my left, offering me a glass of wine. “How did you discover Torz Benoit was your Damson?”

Taking the drink, I stared into the glowing lilac liquid, pulling forward the memory as if it were yesterday.

Nine years. It had been nine long years.

“We were at our graduation on Titus Station,” I said, wistfully. “It was the afterparty. I was shocked he came over to talk to me—him being the cool, popular kid with many circles of friends, and me…well, me being me.” I sighed at the thought. I’d always wanted to be one of those girls with charisma and appeal, but I’d been awkward and overly conscious. I still was, to a point, though I didn’t care what people thought of me anymore.

“We’d…we’d only really talked during survival training class. Our teacher had paired us up—Torz being the eldest of our school year and me the youngest. It was the standard regulation to make the competitive exercises fairer. We always got on well in those classes. Even more so when we were floating about in space, completing our practical tests. Out there, with him, I never felt scared…” I mused to myself, recalling the glimpse of his dimples as he grinned through his spacesuit visor, making candid remarks through the suit comms to keep me calm. With no sense of up and down, and without an anchor to catch one’s bearings, anyone could panic floating about in the cold, emptyvoid of space. But Torz never did. He thrived on the uncertainty, and I both admired and envied him for it.

I smiled at the memory—how I missed those days. “Yeah, our partnership was compatible. Though, when his friends were around, he usually ignored me.” My smile turned forlorn. “But, for some reason, he noticed me at the graduation party…and he asked me to dance.”

I still remembered how he looked that night. How he’d worn a perfectly cut navy-blue suit with a white button-down shirt and silver tie. It was the first time I’d seen him look so dapper. Usually, he turned up to school in a creased T-shirt and old cargo pants, and his hair had always been a tousled mess, as if he’d just got out of bed.

But that night, I’d witnessed the pristine commander he was destined to be, and I’d found him mesmerising.

When he appeared at my side, I wasn’t sure if he pitied me standing on my own by the drinks table while everyone danced and laughed. Inside, I was dead. My mum had died three weeks prior, and I hadn’t any intention of attending a school dance. But after my sweet aunt had escorted me to Titus Station where the ceremony had been conducted, then taken the time to style my long hair into an array of soft curls, I couldn’t refuse.

So, I stood on my own, wearing the beautiful sparkling-pink dress Mum had finished sewing mere days before she died. Every second had been torture.