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It isn’t uncommon for participants on the stage to release a song or an album after their season on alien stage is over, even if they’d lost.
Often, the guardian of a finalist or semifinalist will recoup their losses that way. They sell well, and if the human pet had acquired fans through their appearance on the stage, there will be plenty of people hungry for more.
Because of this, Mizi doesn’t think anything of it when more of Ivan’s music is released.
It is a somber song, like many of Ivan’s have been, but it asks for forgiveness, it gives the fans closure.
Mizi wonders if that plea for forgiveness was meant for Till as well, if he had lived. Did Ivan plan what he did? Or was it something spurred on in the moment?
It doesn’t matter. She can’t ask him now.
Instead she can listen, and wonder whether she can bring herself to accept the apology he is offering instead.
-
The first song doesn’t raise suspicion.
Neither does the second, or the third.
But then a year passes, then two, and music is still being released, and Mizi is beginning to have doubts.
Ivan’s alien guardian has stated that Ivan and him had planned this out in advance, that it was all pre-shot and pre-recorded. Whether it is true or not, the story fits. Savvy and business-minded, just as Ivan always was.
Mizi doesn’t focus too much on it, she can’t afford to. Instead she tries to channel that characteristic cunning into her own work, keeping their human resistance always one step ahead of the segyein who stand against them.
-
Still, she talks to Hyuna about it.
“Do you think he’s alive?” she asks.
Hyuna shrugs.
“Maybe, but does it matter? We don’t have the resources to pull him out right now.”
“Could you send me?”
Hyuna looks down at her, a complicated expression across her face.
“You’re safe,” she tells Mizi, “And if Ivan’s alive, and not competing, then he’s safe too,” she pauses, tilting her head, “He wasn’t the one who would always have bruises, was he?”
“No,” Mizi says, after a moment, “No that was Till.”
“Then this Ivan is safe enough, if he’s alive at all. Maybe we’ll get him one day.”
One day, Mizi knows what that truly means, even if Hyuna is kind enough not to say it.
Still, she chooses to hold onto that hope.
One day.
-
One of the problems with any songs released after the season is over, is that no one can anticipate what will happen on the stage itself.
Ivan’s brand, up until his final round, had been that of someone calm and collected and put together. His latest music does not reflect that. There is more chaos, more distress. If anything it reminds her more of Till.
Did Ivan want that, to be more like Till? Did he think that Till would win, and that Till would listen, and hear in these songs how much he had inspired Ivan?
Mizi shudders. Sua had only one song release after everything, and Mizi can barely listen to that without breaking down. Perhaps it is better that Till did not live to see this.
It is still strange though, that Ivan’s brand would shift so much after he died. How much his music has evolved over the past 2 years despite the stagnation that usually comes with death. It really, really makes Mizi wonder…
No, she needs to stop. She wishes he would just stay dead in her mind. She is wasting too much time on the barest chance that one of her old friends might still be alive.
-
But if he was…
She misses them all so much. She’d do anything to have just one of them back.
-
Then, after a few years of laying low, their resistance is ready to strike again.
In preparation, Mizi had read up on everything she could about the stage. This included the rounds they couldn’t get to, and Mizi can’t help but feel angry watching.
Angry at the segyein, yes, for continuing the show, but angry at herself, too, for being unable to stop it.
It makes her feel so helpless.
But she’d tried on her own, and Sua died. Then she’d tried again with Hyuna and her crew, and Ivan and Till had died.
This time will be different, it has to be.
It is simple enough, to disguise herself as a pet, slipping through the crowds milling towards the stage. Billboards and advertisements are plastered everywhere. She turns to the left and…
…suddenly Ivan is right there.
Or, his image is, at least, plastered up on a screen, wearing the latest line of clothing for some brand.
How is he still relevant?
Did his guardian really plan this out that far in advance?
She shakes her head, it doesn’t matter. She is not here to save Ivan today.
She keeps moving.
-
They save the two contestants.
They flood the stage with smoke before the final note of the song.
Finally, Mizi has made it to the stage on time.
She rushes over to one of the contestants, who looks dazed and bewildered, much like she did, when she was first rescued.
“It’s okay,” she tells them gently, and then, leaving no room for questioning, “You’re coming with us, we will help you.”
The contestant nods absently, and she grabs them by the arm.
They run, obscured by smoke and through corridors to make their escape. Mizi has done this three times now, once during her round, the next time during Till’s, and now today.
She is determined to make this a success.
It is a success.
Almost.
She hands off the two from the stage to another one of Hyuna’s people, whisking them out of the complex and then the city.
This leaves her to make her own way to a nearby rendezvous point, still disguised as a human pet.
Unfortunately, once she reaches that point, she sees it has been compromised. Security forces are there, her human contact is long gone, hopefully they escaped. She tries the second rendezvous, but by the time she reaches it, they are gone from there, too.
The search for the missing pets is starting to get more coordinated now. She sees security androids rounding up pets who do not have their guardians supervising them, in order to question them.
She needs a place to hide.
She doesn’t know where her guardian lived but… she knows that Ivan had a place to live while he was preparing for the stage. She had visited him a few times before then. It was part of a kennel of sorts, a fancy one, where Ivan could come and go as he pleased. People wouldn’t question the presence of a human there. Not right away at least, and she just needs a little time to lay low and figure out where to go next.
She darts down the streets, until finally reaching the building. She pauses, for a moment, trying to remember the access code that Ivan had taught her. Much to her surprise, it still works, and she is able to walk inside.
The building is quiet, albeit clean, but she’s not sure how long it will stay that way, and hasn’t figured out what she’d say if somebody came walking through these halls.
She keeps moving, trying to look like she’s here with a purpose, she lets muscle memory guide her to the elevator. It takes a couple of guesses to figure out the right floor, but in the end she figures it out.
At the door now, she tries out Ivan’s access code again. Again, the door opens. Apparently Ivan’s guardian didn’t bother changing it after he died.
Tentatively, she steps inside, praying to whatever god that might exist that she hasn’t set off some alarm already.
The lights are on.
The place is sparsely decorated, but it still looks clean and lived in. Untouched, she supposes, since Ivan died.
Then she hears a noise, and turns around, only to see Ivan there, alive.
She yelps.
“Mizi?” he asks.
“…Ivan?” she says, tentatively.
Ivan’s brow furrows.
In the silence, Mizi notices a screen playing in the room behind him. She sees shots of the arena, of segyein reporters and authorities milling about, shutting everything down.
“You were watching the latest round,” she says, in lieu of anything else.
Ivan nods.
“And you were there,” he says, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, “weren’t you?”
“Yes,” Mizi says, and then, “I need to hide, can I stay here?”
Ivan pauses, thinking.
“The only one who comes here anymore is Unsha’s wife,” Ivan tells her, “And my publicist. I’ve managed to re-establish trust with them over the last few years.”
“If someone did come though…” Mizi says.
Ivan smiles, and like most of his genuine smiles, there is something slightly off-putting about it.
“I’m dead,” he tells her, “My continued existence is a well-kept secret. No one will come asking.”
-
Mizi doesn’t have any other options, so she stays.
Ivan spends most of his time around the house. He eats, he exercises, he practices his scales.
He has a screen that plays the entertainment news all day long, Mizi spends much of her days watching that. Sometimes it plays popular clips from the stage. She usually turns it off during those segments. When Ivan is watching with her, he will frown and turn it back on.
When someone comes to visit, Ivan hides her in a storage closet.
“It’s just cleaning supplies,” he tells her, “No one uses it, since the cleaners Unsha hires bring their own. I’m not technically supposed to have access, but I figured out the human-proof lock.”
Mizi tucks herself inside, and listens carefully every time, heart beating in her chest, terrified of what might happen if someone were to find her.
-
Ivan’s days are very monotonous. He is fed three meals a day. It is bland seygein-made food, the kind intended to meet their nutritional needs, but not intended to taste very good.
She eats some of his food on the first day, then supplements it with the rations that she’d forgotten she’d brought with her. Hyuna had made her bring them, in case she’d gotten stuck in a situation just like this one.
She offers some of her own food to Ivan, and he declines.
-
Time passes. Ivan doesn’t really talk to her much, preferring to stick rather rigidly to his daily routine without distraction, but he seems to adjust to her presence nonetheless, as he goes about his days.
Mizi has so much she wants to ask him, but like this, she isn’t really sure how.
After a week, a new problem comes up. She is burning through her rations, and soon she will not have enough for the journey back.
She tries to live off of Ivan’s food, but that is already only designed to give him the bare minimum calories needed to survive while maintaining his body shape. It is not nearly enough for two people
Mizi bides her time though, waiting for the anxiety over the latest attack on the stage to blow over. The last of her rations are being saved for her eventual escape.
She plans, and her stomach growls. Time is running out.
-
“What is it like on the outside now?” Ivan asks her.
They are sat together, taking turns eating from a bowl of Ivan’s food, when he asks her this.
“It’s different,” she says, taking a moment to think, “We don’t have as much as you do here… though food tastes better.”
“Is it overwhelming?”
“Hm? How so?”
“Having all that freedom.”
“You had that too one time, didn’t you?”
Ivan nods.
“I did,” he acknowledges, and then, “I think I’d like to have that sort of freedom again.”
Mizi lights up. She hasn’t asked him directly but…
“Will you leave with me?”
Ivan tilts his head.
“Don’t sound so excited. It will be more difficult, if I come with you.”
She pulls him into a hug.
“I don’t care,” she says, “You’re coming with me.”
She will bring him home.
-
They make a plan.
If it was just Mizi, she could walk out, and slip past any city security without much issue.
Ivan, however, wears a collar now, it monitors his vital signs and tracks his location.
“If I take it off,” he tells her, “It will alert Unsha to my location. It might also knock me out in the process.”
“What? Why?”
Ivan taps a port on the collar, there’s a small modification, it reminds her of the types that Till used to wear.
“It injects me with something here,” Ivan says, “They don’t want me to get away again. I’m too valuable to lose. I think I know how to deactivate it, but I’ve only tried it once before.”
Ivan isn’t allowed to leave on his own, either, only when his production team comes along to whisk him off to a photoshoot or recording session.
“I’ll have someone handling me at all times,” Ivan tells her, “If you can take them out, then we will have a window where we can roam the city without alerting anyone.”
Mizi still has a small blaster, and a knife. She has spent time training with Hyuna in order to prepare for situations like this.
They have a plan.
-
The next time Ivan has a photoshoot, he leaves just as he always does. After he’s gone, Mizi carefully packs all of her things and reviews the plan.
After enough time has passed, she steps out of the building, and hides herself amongst the hedges that artfully line the pathway leading up to it.
Eventually Ivan comes back.
He steps up to the gate, stopping first. He turns to the segyein.
“Any chance you’d let me stretch my legs for once?”
The segyein laughs, and pushes him towards the door.
“Understood,” Ivan says.
And that’s Mizi’s cue.
She bursts into action, taking the knife to the segyein’s neck before he can utter another word.
It struggles, but goes down without making much of a sound.
Ivan looks down at the segyein with an unflinching gaze.
“Sorry,” he tells it, and Mizi can’t tell if he’s being genuine or not.
Then, after a long moment, he looks up at her.
“We need to go.”
Mizi’s still covered in blood. It hasn’t even dried yet. They don’t have time to clean this up, though. Instead, she throws on her coat, and that covers the worst of it.
Her and Ivan slink away.
It takes a moment for Mizi to find her bearings again. She retraces her steps back to the city centre, then starts working her way towards the slums, where she knows there’s stray humans and more sympathetic folk, as well as a way out.
“We need to be careful of pet-catchers though,” she says, “Especially for someone who looks like you.”
Look-alikes of contestants sell very well on the market. Mizi even used herself once to help catch one of the worst in the business.
She shudders.
“Give me your knife,” Ivan says, “In case I need to defend myself. You still have a gun, right?”
“Do you know how to use a knife?” Mizi asks, “A gun is a lot louder and I don’t want to attract attention.”
“Fine, give me the gun then.”
Ivan’s expression is placid and unreadable as ever, but something in his voice sounds nervous.
“Alright,” Mizi says, then decides on giving him the knife. Easier to figure out than a blaster, in the event that they need it.
She prays that they will not.
-
Before reaching the city’s edge, Ivan pulls them into an alley, quiet aside from the two of them.
Carefully, Ivan pauses, and removes his collar.
Mizi watches with baited breath, for any alarm or change in Ivan’s demeanor. For Ivan to make a mistake in deactivating it, and to be knocked out by whatever drug is contained inside.
Instead, the collar comes off easily, and Ivan tosses it to the ground below.
Then he starts moving back to Mizi. Fast.
“Come on,” he says, “We need to get out of here before any security arrives.”
They walk, as quickly as they can without arousing suspicion. They are close enough now that they can make it to the city’s edge.
“They wouldn’t expect me to leave,” Ivan explains, “And it will be harder to find me with so many others around. But we need to go.”
Mizi nods, leading him along until the buildings thin, leading to barren fields.
They wander at the edge until Mizi can locate a few waypoints, using them to locate a safehouse at the edge of the city, hidden among the dusty rocks.
She radios in from there. Letting the others know her location, and that she is alive. After a while, she gets a crackling response.
Since she’s safe and uninjured, they’re going to leave her there for a few days, to let any search for Ivan die out before they drive out to get her.
She also suspects it’s a safety measure for themselves, careful about any tracking devices that Ivan may have on him.
She steps away from the radio, and takes stock of their surroundings. It is cramped. There is a bed, a rug on the floor, and a shelf with jars of pickles and preserves. A few tins of human food sit there too. She picks one up to inspect it.
Ivan comes up and peers over her shoulder.
“That brand is cheap,” he says, turning up his nose a little.
“We don’t have a lot of money,” Mizi says, “And we can make our own food.”
Ivan moves on to peer at the other jars.
“Like this?” he says, even more suspicious, “How long has it been here?”
Mizi shrugs.
“A year, maybe? I don’t know.”
Ivan furrows his brow.
“Why are you being so picky?” Mizi asks, “You used to live on the outside, didn’t you? Till said once that-”
Ivan hums, then cuts her off.
“It is better than nothing,” he says, “Much better, actually.”
“You’re just spoiled,” Mizi says, stealing a word that Hyuna has used for her many times.
“You’re right,” Ivan says, wearing a placid smile now, a fake smile, “How long do we need to stay here?”
“A few days, a week at most.”
”Mm.”
-
There is only one bed in the safehouse.
There is fuel, too, and lamps that can be lit, but Mizi is tired, and Ivan is tired, and neither of them want to waste unnecessary resources.
Ivan eyes the bed carefully, likely not used to having to share. Not that Till wouldn’t constantly complain about Ivan sneaking into his when they were back at Anakt.
She’s sure he’d rather have Till here now more than anything. Much like how she would do anything if it meant getting Sua back.
But what’s done is done. They only have each other now.
“Come on,” Mizi says, “We can share.”
Exhausted, they collapse into bed, and don’t think much of anything before the sun comes back up again.
-
Their days pass much the same as they did before they escaped, albeit with a lot less room, and no TV.
Mizi spends her mornings by the radio, checking in with the other humans in her network.
The first few days, they can hear drones whizzing by, searching the landscape for any sign of them.
Mizi bolts shut the door, and they spend their first few nights completely underground. Their little hollow under the canopy of rocks is enough to shield them from detection.
There’s a pack of cards, thankfully, and Mizi uses some of her fuel to give them enough light to play.
She teaches Ivan card games, and they talk to pass the time.
-
“How did you… how did you survive?” she asks, at some point, halfway through one of the gambling games Hyuna taught her, “I was there, and I tried- Hyuna and I tried to- but…“
“Unsha didn’t want his wife to be mad at him,” Ivan offers, by way of explanation, “I’m her favourite pet. They fixed me, I don’t know how.”
Mizi nods.
Ivan pauses.
“I saw-“ he starts, and then stops, “Till… he didn’t somehow make it back, did he?”
There is a terrible amount of hope in his voice, tearing open old wounds.
“He…” Mizi starts, “He didn’t, I… I’m so sorry, I tried, I really did, but I couldn’t…”
“Mizi,” Ivan’s voice cuts her off, “It’s alright.”
His voice is placid, far too placid.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “I know you were… like me and Sua.”
“We weren’t,” Ivan says, still so unnaturally calm.
She looks up in surprise.
“But… you two were together all the time… in Anakt garden… and you died for him…”
“We weren’t,” Ivan says again, more stern.
“I-“ Mizi says, feeling uncomfortable for having misjudged, “I don’t understand.”
Ivan smiles, it is fake and toothy and wrong.
“That’s alright,” he says, “I don’t expect you to.”
They sit. The silence stretches long as Mizi tries to think of something to say.
Ivan speaks up again.
“He wanted to live again, I think,” Ivan’s brow furrows, “He did so well in that final performance…”
“Did you watch it?”
“…reruns, yes.”
Mizi thinks to Ivan’s TV, always tuned to the station that broadcasts the Alien Stage programming.
She thinks to the moment where she reached for him, arms outstretched to the only friend she’d thought she had left.
She thinks to the moments before he saw her, how exhausted he’d looked, trapped in Luka’s gaze.
“How far do they play?” Mizi asks, “How far do the reruns get before they stop the song?”
“You climb onstage,” Ivan says, “And your face gets revealed. Then it ends, or cuts to you and Hyuna.”
Was there a camera in her face? Mizi doesn’t remember.
All she can remember is Till, struggling to cling to life, bleeding out in her arms.
“I think he wanted to live, too.”
Ivan is silent for a moment, his hand hovering before picking up his next card.
“I have a five and an ace left,” is all he says, “I think you win this round.”
Mizi suspects that he doesn’t want to keep talking, and so they move on.
-
“Do you still miss Sua?” Ivan asks.
Mizi blinks.
Ivan, for all his tact around the segyein, was always so blunt around his friends.
Blunt around Till, mostly.
“Yes,” Mizi says, because that’s the right answer, the one that Sua deserves, “Or- it’s complicated. Not all the time. Not nearly as often as I used to. If I think about it for long enough…”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, wait- no stop worrying. I’m fine,” Mizi takes a moment to compose herself, “I really am.”
Ivan looks at her, like he doesn’t believe it.
“Really! I am! It helps to have the rebellion, I think if I was back at Anakt garden, she’d be all I could think about. I’m… I’m making new friends out there though. It’s different. It’s good.”
“Hm,” Ivan says.
Mizi’s feelings fall.
“You don’t believe me?”
“No,” Ivan says, and then asks, “Do you want to miss her? Did you try to stop?”
“I…” Mizi says, “I do still miss her. I wish she could be here with me. The first few months without her I- I kept seeing or hearing things and thinking, ‘I’ll tell Sua about this,’ but I couldn’t, I… I’m never going to see her again.”
“But it happens less now,” Ivan prompts.
“It happens less,” Mizi admits, “It still hurts.”
Ivan nods.
“What about you?” she asks, feeling wretched, “You say you and Till weren’t the same.”
“We weren’t.”
“Do you miss him then?”
Mizi misses him. He was always so creative, so full of energy, even if he got in trouble for it. He was her friend.
“Yes,” Ivan says.
Mizi nods.
“I’m not going to forget him, though,” Ivan says.
Mizi flinches, there is something sour in his tone, like he thinks that…
“Are you suggesting that I’ve forgotten Sua?”
“Yes,” Ivan says, “You said it doesn’t hurt you as much anymore.”
“It still hurts,” she fights back, “I- I don’t know how you could say that I-”
“That’s what Sua would have wanted though, not to be a trauma to you.”
“Ivan!” Mizi shouts, then nearly flinches at her own raised voice.
He blinks, and stops talking.
“I- I- It’s not that simple,” she says, “I can’t… I couldn’t just shut down, I had to keep moving, I- I had a chance to save you and Till. I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I’d stopped.”
Ivan eyes her carefully.
“I know it didn’t work,” she says, “The rescue. And I’m sorry, I really, really am… but you’re suggesting that I didn’t love her? You… you don’t… you don’t know anything.”
Ivan shakes his head.
“You’re right,” he says, “You needed to keep moving in order to survive. And I’m glad, that you survived.”
He looks at her, but seems to be looking through her all the same.
-
That night, Ivan leaves the safehouse.
She’d fallen asleep, and wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty room. Eerily quiet. She hadn’t even heard him disappear.
Panic bolts through her.
Slowly, carefully, she opens the door to the outside.
She listens for the buzz of drones up above, of anyone who might be searching for her. She doesn’t hear it.
She steps out, faced with a blank horizon.
Ivan has… he has…
“Mizi?”
She whirls around, and there Ivan is, next to the safehouse walls.
“What the hell are you doing out here!” Mizi asks, then backtracks, trying to soften her tone, “I mean… it’s dangerous out here, what if someone spotted you?”
Ivan frowns.
“It wouldn’t happen,” he says.
“You don’t- you don’t know that. What’s so important about being out here that you’d risk it?”
Ivan shrugs, then gestures upwards.
“The view here is beautiful,” he says, “And it was too cramped in there, I needed some fresh air.”
“That’s it?”
It really doesn’t sound like Ivan at all. Ivan was never claustrophobic, you could put Ivan anywhere and he wouldn’t complain. He is free now, yes, but… surely he’s been acting out of self-preservation this whole time. Why change now, at the most crucial step in their plan?
Ivan smiles, it’s too dark to tell whether it’s genuine.
Her stomach churns.
“That was all, yes,” Ivan says, “I won’t do it again though, if it worries you.”
Mizi sighs.
“I don’t- I don’t know, Ivan. Once we’re back with the others, then you can sit out here for as long as you like, but just… not now, alright?”
Ivan hums.
“I understand,” he says, “Until we reach true freedom.”
She goes back inside, and he picks something up off the ground -the knife she’d given him, at least he’d had some sense of self-preservation- and then finally, he follows her.
“Cards?” she offers tentatively, trying to extend an olive branch.
“I still don’t really know how to play.”
“You were always the fastest learner of us at Anakt,” she says, tossing him the pack, “You’ll figure it out.”
-
The next days become more of the same.
Mizi is getting tired of waiting.
Finally, finally , she gets word that Hyuna will send some folks their way to pick them up. They will be coming tomorrow.
“This will be the riskiest part,” she tells Ivan, explaining the plan, “We will need to head out on our own for a day or so. We’re still too close to the city to risk getting caught.”
“Do you know where you’re going?”
Mizi has been checking over maps since she got here. She has a compass, and a brief crash course on navigation, courtesy of Hyuna.
“Well enough.”
“And is it likely we’ll be caught?”
Mizi hesitates.
“Hyuna’s people seem to think the search has stopped, or at the very least slowed.”
“Can she be certain?”
“No,” Mizi says, “But we’re starting to run low on the food and water stored here, and I’d rather start moving while I still can.”
Ivan hums.
“Hyuna agrees with me,” Mizi adds, “It’s the best course of action we have.”
Ivan hums again, still sounding unconvinced.
“Listen,” Mizi pinches her forehead, “Hyuna does care about me, okay? She wouldn’t agree to this if she thought it was too risky.”
Ivan nods.
“The aliens will be more interested in getting me back though. If I can distract them…”
“There will be no distracting,” Mizi says, stern.
“Your… Hyuna, she didn’t say anything about backup plans?”
“If it comes to that,” Mizi says, “We scatter, hide, than try to regroup if possible. Though you will probably be captured, and I don’t know what will happen to me.”
Ivan frowns.
“I don’t like it,” he says.
“It’s our best plan.”
“Could I suggest one change?”
“What?”
“If they do capture me, or try to take me back, could you kill me instead? You still have that gun, right?”
Mizi blinks.
“What? ”
“I don’t want to go back,” he says, “Make sure you injure me in a way that they can’t heal this time.”
Mizi shakes her head. Her whole body is starting to shake.
“No… no I can’t do that… I’d come back for you, I’d get you out again.”
Ivan is smiling.
“They wouldn’t hurt you,” Mizi says, “They wouldn’t hurt you, right?”
Ivan shakes his head.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have asked. I should have considered everything. Sua… Till…”
“And you…” Mizi chokes out, “They killed you too. I can’t…” she rushes forward and grabs him, suddenly afraid he might disappear. Her voice cracks. “Don’t make me lose you too.”
Ivan moves to soothe her.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have suggested it, I’m sorry.”
Mizi just shakes, clinging onto him for as long as she can.
-
The next morning, Mizi wakes up, and Ivan is still there.
He is still there.
Still sleeping though.
She shakes him awake. He blinks, bleary-eyed, and it reminds her of all the early mornings spent as children, running off to some corner of the garden before their caretakers would come corral them for breakfast and learning.
“We need to leave now,” she says, “While it’s still dark, we need to go.”
Ivan blinks again, and sits up, then gets himself out of bed with all the poise and grace of a well-behaved pet. He’s gone a week without bathing, though, and is wearing the dusty human-made clothes they’d found in the bunker, which somewhat spoils any charm he might have had.
“Alright,” he says, sounding much more alert.
They eat a quick meal, gather their belongings, and then they set off on their way.
-
The air is still cold.
It is quiet. Not even the hum of drones searching the sky above.
She tugs Ivan along. He keeps getting distracted, looking up, and they don’t have time for delays.
“There’s nothing up there,” Mizi says, “You don’t have to keep watching, just listen for drones, will you?”
She scans the horizon again. They need to head north, there’s another hideaway up there where they’ll meet the rest of the rebels.
They still have hours to go. For now, all they can see is a barren, rocky plain, stretching as far as the eye can see.
-
They reach their waypoint before their rescuers do, and rest inside the hideout until they hear the rumble of a car approaching.
They don’t go outside, they wait until their rescuers come knocking at their door.
They shout a passphrase. Mizi shouts one back, she lets them in from the midday sun.
Two people step inside. Isaac is one of them. Another person, who Mizi recognizes, but can’t remember the name of, steps in as well.
“Glad you’re alive,” Isaac says, “Hyuna’s been worried.”
Mizi huffs.
“I took care of myself just fine.”
“Hm,” Isaac says.
It sounds like he has more to say, but he doesn’t push it any further.
“We should go,” Isaac says, “Before we’re spotted. Have you eaten? Come on now.”
He tosses food and a water bottle their way. Mizi gratefully accepts, taking a drink before passing it on to Ivan, who follows suit. Ivan has not spoken yet, a placid, false smile stretched across his face.
They follow Isaac out, where their car is waiting. Mizi and Ivan take the backseat, as Isaac and the other guy take the front.
Isaac drives, the other guy has a gun at the ready, in case there’s an unexpected attack or ambush. Mizi pulls her gun out as well, feeling a bit exposed now that they are out of pure wilderness and back on roads again.
Eventually though, the roads get less and less maintained. They switch from pavement to gravel, and then turn into little more than paths the rebels have carved out for themselves. A maze leading back to their hideaway.
Mizi holds her breath, as the compound inches closer and closer and…
-
Hyuna is waiting for them when they arrive.
“Mizi,” she says, walking over with an intense purpose.
Mizi wonders if she’s about to be reprimanded, especially considering the whole rescue with Ivan was unplanned and-
Hyuna pulls her into a hug.
“I was worried,” Hyuna says, anger seeping into her voice.
“Isaac told me,” Mizi laughs, “But really, I’m okay.”
Hyuna pulls back, and there is definitely anger in her expression.
“You might not have been,” Hyuna says. Her gaze is focused, steely, and then it flicks away, towards Ivan, with suspicion.
“I- Hey! If it wasn’t for Ivan, I might not have made it!” she counters, “I needed a place to hide, I didn’t even know that Ivan would be there when I went! And he protected me, Hyuna, he didn’t rat me out.”
Hyuna frowns.
“He could have.”
Ivan clears his throat.
“I want nothing to do with my guardian anymore,” he says, then holds out a hand, a placating, too-wide smile on his face, “My name is Ivan, it is nice to meet you.”
Hyuna looks at him warily, and doesn’t take it.
“I don’t like him,” she says.
“Too bad,” Mizi puts her foot down, “He’s my friend, and he’s staying.”
Hyuna sighs.
“Look,” she says, waving her hand, “We don’t have time for this again. Isaac, check him for trackers and then put him up at one of our lookout posts. I don’t care what he says, we’re risking hell by bringing home somebody’s lost pet.”
Mizi frowns, but is glad at least, that Hyuna is still okay with Ivan being brought in, even if he’s being held at arms length.
“I’m a lost pet too,” she says, as Isaac begins ushering Ivan away, “So are you.”
Hyuna grabs her hand and heads back inside, dragging her along with her.
“The difference between him and us,” Hyuna says, “Is that the segyein think we are dead. Or a lost cause. Besides, I like you more than I like him.”
“That’s because you’ve known me for longer.”
“No,” Hyuna says, and they’ve reached her room now, “I liked you when we met, too. And you were honest. I can’t get a read on your friend.”
“Because you’ve just met him!” Mizi huffs, “Ivan’s always been that way, you just need to get used to it!”
“Sure,” Hyuna says, then gestures to a cot, “Here, rest for a while,” she grabs a water bottle and tosses it over, “I’d rather have you somewhere where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Why? So I don't run off with Ivan and betray you?”
“I-” Hyuna says, “It isn’t that.”
Mizi sits down, crossing her arms.
“Then what is it?”
Hyuna puts a hand over her face, scowling.
“The mission went awry. We didn’t hear from you for weeks and I thought you’d been captured.”
“They would have just sent me back to Shine, I would have been okay.”
“Or they would have sold you off! Or stripped you for parts and ground the rest of you up into food!”
“It turned out fine.”
“Only because, well- you need to fill me in on that, but we’ll debrief later. For now, rest. Let us take care of things from here.”
Mizi frowns, but Hyuna gets up and leaves for a connected room, where Mizi can hear the tapping of a keyboard and the scratch of pen on paper.
Hyuna is busy, after all. She does more than any of the rest of them here.
She sighs, and lets sleep overtake her.
-
She is awoken by shouting.
She sits up, disoriented and bleary-eyed. She is… with the rebels again? She stands up, stumbling over to the other room. Yes, she is with the rebels again. Dewey is here, so is Hyuna.
“Wha’s going on?” she asks, still half asleep.
“What’s going on? ” Dewey shouts, “Your idiot runaway is what! Isaac tried to take his weapons and he fucking slit his throat!”
“What idiot runaway- Ivan?!” Mizi asks, suddenly wide awake, “Where is he?” she asks, frantic.
“By the medical bays, he-“
Mizi takes off running.
Ivan, what did you do?
By the time she’s at the medical wing, it’s clear which room is Ivan’s. There’s a crowd of people hovering outside the door.
“Let me in!” Mizi shouts, elbowing her way through them, “Let me-!”
She steps inside.
Ivan is there, blood on his neck, soaking his shirt, a bloody knife in hand. Her knife. The one she’d given him for protection.
He looks up at her, and now she can see a gaping wound, slashed across the front of his throat.
For a moment, all she can see is red.
“Don’t come closer,” Ivan says, his expression flat, he raises the bloody knife with a shaking hand, “Or else I’ll do it aga- Mizi?”
“What are you doing?” Mizi asks, distraught.
“Isn’t it… obvious?”
“You-!”
Anger is building up.
“Don’t bring me back,” Ivan says, like he’s worried he might not have another chance to say it, “Let me stay dead.”
Ivan is eyeing the knife again. He can still talk, his wounds are likely survivable, so long as he doesn’t hurt himself again.
He looks like he might try, to hurt himself again.
The anger boils over.
“How dare you?!” Mizi shouts, storming forward, catching Ivan off-guard. She snatches the knife from his hands, and pins him to the wall, “After our escape, after I find out you’re alive, you pull this?!”
“You’re right,” Ivan says, eerily quiet, “It would have been easier if I had died before you found me.”
“No!” Mizi shouts, “No, you’re here, you’re alive, you can’t leave me,” her shouts dissolve into sobs, “Please don’t leave me. Please. I-“
She slumps against him. The medical personnel are finally trickling into the room, now that Ivan is no longer threatening to injure himself further. A hand -not Ivan’s- gently pries the knife from her grip. Others take Ivan by the arms, pull Mizi away, and Ivan starts struggling again as they do.
Everything hurts.
Mizi wants to reach out. Wants to scream at him. Wants to pull everyone else away from him because Ivan is hurting too.
There’s a terrifying determination in his eyes and she is afraid of what he will do if no one else is here to stop him.
She pushes herself back into the corner of the room, and weeps.
-
Eventually, Ivan is subdued. Sedated, too, for good measure, allowing them to dress the wound. The room gets quiet again, and all but one other person is left behind. She curls into herself on the floor, and, exhausted as she is, she falls asleep.
-
She wakes up sore.
It takes a minute for everything to come back to her. She is in a cot, despite the fact that she had fallen asleep on the concrete. Ivan is asleep in a cot next to hers, bandages and the like covering the front of his neck, because Ivan had tried to…
Right.
She sits up, and notices one of the other medical staff is still there, sat in a chair, watching.
“Slow night?” she asks, tentatively, trying to make small talk.
“It would have been, if your pet there hadn’t started to fight us earlier.”
Mizi tenses at the phrasing, pet, like it had been something to be ashamed of.
“He’s not anyone’s pet,” she corrects, “Not anymore. If anything I’m just as much a pet as he is,” she pauses, “I told Hyuna that too.”
They laugh.
“Sure, but you’ve been here, what now, three years? He’s more like the ones we just rescued from the stage. You’re closer to Hyuna, now.”
Mizi frowns.
“Don’t worry,” they say, “He’ll acclimatize. I’m just here to keep him alive until that happens.”
“Do you think he will?” Mizi asks, voice small.
She just got Ivan back, and now she’s terrified of losing him again.
“I’ve seen it happen before,” they say, trying to reassure her, “Other escapees, who’d managed to find us before they had a chance to off themselves.”
“I don’t understand,” Mizi says.
Except a small part of her does. It’s the same part if her that wouldn’t allow her to move for three days after she’d been rescued. The small part that just wanted it to be over, now that Sua was gone and her old life was unreachable.
It wasn’t over, though.
Eventually, she pulled herself up, head dizzy from too little food or water and back aching from lying down for too long.
Someone had been in the room with her too, then. They’d given her a change of clothes and helped her to the cafeteria, and from there, she’d managed to keep moving.
She found a new goal. She’d wanted to save Ivan and Till. And then once she’d started moving again, she didn’t stop.
But she remembers those early days, and Ivan has been stuck there for maybe years now. She doesn’t know why, and she doesn’t know how to fix this.
“You don’t have to understand,” the medical worker says, seeming to soften at her distress, “Just give him time. And space. It’s ultimately up to him where he goes from here.”
-
Ivan becomes a model patient after that. Suspiciously quickly. Though there are still parts of his behavior that are strange as he adjusts. Ivan has always been a little strange.
He’s acting the way he used to around their segyein caretakers. All smiles, all pleasant faces. The segyein would eat it up, but she can see how his suddenly docile behavior unnerves the other humans.
She doesn’t tell Ivan about that, though. If he wants to pretend everything’s alright, he can do that himself.
He drops it when it’s just the two of them at least, which she appreciates. He used to be the same way in Anakt as well.
Used to be.
He used to tell her, when they were younger, when he was lying.
If dinner had been bad, he would only complain to her and Sua after they were out of earshot of everyone else. Or when he’d twisted his ankle. He’d tried to hide that for days, and Mizi and Till had to help him around everywhere until the segyein finally caught on.
Ivan never stopped hiding things, Mizi realizes, he just got better at hiding them, he stopped trusting her.
She sighs.
Ivan looks over to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I- just thinking,” she says, “You used to be more honest with me.”
Ivan’s eyebrow raises.
“I still am.”
“Not like you used to be. You used to tell us everything.”
They all used to be more open, they would talk in hushed voices, trading messages that would not be taken kindly had they reached the segyein’s ears. It gave them a chance to be honest, to let their feelings out without reprisal.
After a while Ivan stopped, and then Till stopped too, because he would get too flustered to say anything. It didn’t matter though because Till never had many secrets.
Ivan scoffs.
“That was never a good idea,” he says, “The segyein were monitoring us all the time. It would have upset my reputation with them, if we continued.”
“They were never unkind to me for it.”
“That’s different. You were honest with the segyein as well.”
“You weren’t?”
“Yes?” Ivan says, “I don’t know. I’m a pet. I acted and thought the way I needed to. Whether that was a lie, I’m not sure.”
Mizi looks down.
“Maybe, you kept secrets from them though.”
“Did I?”
“What about Till?” she asks, “Did they know that you loved him? Did you tell them and not me?”
Ivan’s expression drains.
“No,” he says, “Nobody knew about that, not even Till.”
“You knew.”
Ivan looks down.
“That doesn’t count. And nobody was supposed to know either. It didn’t fit my image, it could have been used against me.”
“Sua was never used against me.”
“Really?” Ivan says, sounding a little unsettled, “Because they pitted you two against each other in the very first round.”
“It was a random selection.”
“I doubt it,” Ivan says, “That show is produced to hell and back.”
Mizi sighs, ignoring the tightening in her chest.
“I wish you had told me,” she says.
“About Till?” Ivan asks, sounding bitter.
“About anything. You’re different now. More open, like you used to be.”
“What good would have come from it?” Ivan asks.
Mizi would have known, for one thing, and if Till had truly not felt the same, she could have been a shoulder to cry on.
But maybe Ivan’s right, maybe it was a weakness, something there for the segyein to exploit this whole time.
She thinks about Sua, who likely would have died anyway, regardless of whether she was loved.
She thinks about a moment she can barely remember, red pooling on the stage, a lifeless body in front of her.
Then she thinks about every afternoon spent running through the grassy expanse of Anakt garden, of cool river water rushing between her toes, of laughter, laughter that made the long days bearable, that made their gruelling training worth it.
Would it have been worth it, to give all that up, if only to avoid all of this pain now?
Sua, she thinks, What would I have been without you?
-
She stays by Ivan's side the next few days, as much as she possibly can. There's a chair in the room for her to sit, another activity room connected to the medical wing where they will sometimes go instead, interacting with some of the other people recovering here. But mostly, Ivan likes to keep to himself, and talk to her if anyone.
The conversation isn't always easy though.
“Did you watch his final round?”
Ivan asks it out of the blue, in the middle of a game of cards. She's tried to get him to read, or finish one of the puzzles they have, or even just watch a mindless show on the screens, but this has become his preferred activity. And his preferred method of asking difficult questions, it seems.
At least he's getting better at the card games.
“Ivan," she says, careful with her tone, "I was there when it happened. You know this.”
“But did you see it? The whole thing? The recording?”
“Ivan, I was there.”
He shakes his head.
“Have you watched it since? Do you still remember?”
She thinks back to all the alien stage programming that was on his TV. Luka and Till’s performance wasn’t as popular, not as dramatic or unexpected as a finale should be, but it still played.
“I remember,” she says, soft and low, “And I have watched it since. The only thing that’s done is muddle my memory of the events.”
The moment Till is shot, for example, is so clear and delineated in the video. She doesn’t remember it at all. Just that one moment he was reaching for her, and the next he had disappeared. Only when she’d dragged herself up onto the stage did she truly understand what had happened.
When she remembers those in-between moments now, all she can recall is a terrible dread. His song had ended after all, perhaps she’d realized. Perhaps she’d looked at the scores. Had she already known, what she would find when she crawled onto that stage?
“You weren’t there,” Mizi says, almost accusatory, “I don’t care if you obsessively watched him afterwards. That’s not the same as being there.”
“No,” Ivan says, “You are right. I can look at the details more clearly though. You were too late.”
“And you were dead, ” Mizi bites back, “You don’t get a say in what happened during that round. At least I tried to save him.”
Ivan stills.
“I did try,” he says.
Mizi’s gaze softens.
“I- I know you did, but I… Maybe you didn’t realize it but… it hurts, you know, losing someone like that.”
“I’m not Sua,” Ivan says, rather callously.
“Does it matter?” Mizi says, feeling like she’s about to cry.
“No, it doesn’t,” Ivan agrees, “And you’re right. I hurt him, I killed him.”
“What?” Mizi says, feeling disoriented by this turn in the conversation, “No, no you didn’t kill him, the segyein did that.”
“I hurt him,” Ivan says again, “Did you not watch the video enough times? Did you not see how Luka pulled him in?”
“Then Luka killed him, or the segyein, if that’s how you’re defining it!”
“No but I gave him the ammunition. I created the wound and Luka exploited it and Till might have won if it wasn’t for that. Didn’t you want him to win?”
“I didn’t want either of them to win or lose,” Mizi says, “I wanted to save him.”
Ivan blinks.
“You didn’t do a very good job, then.”
Something cruel and vicious rears its head at that comment.
“Neither did you.”
-
She doesn’t… she can’t bring herself to stay with Ivan any longer after that.
She drags herself back to Hyuna’s room, which manages to finally take Hyuna’s attention back from all of her documents and screens.
In an instant, she is at Mizi’s side, a concerned expression on her face.
Mizi sags into her arms.
“I can’t-“ she starts, “I just… he won’t listen, and I… I’m going to lose him again, and I can’t- I- I- I hate him.”
“Do you really?” Hyuna asks, voice gentler than usual.
“I can’t stop him,” Mizi shakes her head, “He’s not going to listen.”
“That’s why we have a protocol for this,” Hyuna says, “It isn’t just on you to keep him alive, we have a whole team of people.”
She shakes her head again.
“He’s just biding his time,” she says, “You don’t know what he’s like. You’ll think he’s gotten better, but he’ll only get better at hiding it.”
“Mm,” Hyuna says.
There is a stretch of silence.
“The way I see it,” Hyuna says, “Is that you’re right, this is just a stopgap.”
There’s another long pause.
“But,” Hyuna adds, “The whole point is that it gives Ivan time to work out what he wants for himself.”
Mizi
“He wants to die.”
Hyuna shrugs.
“As long as he’s alive he can change his mind. Can’t do shit if you’re dead."
“He’s stubborn, though, you don’t know him.”
“He’s been trapped with the segyein for years, Mizi, probably has some weirdass ways to cope with grief cause no one ever showed him how. I think I can figure it out.”
There’s a hardness to her voice, one that stops Mizi from pushing the subject further.
“Look,” Hyuna says, sighing and pushing back some of her hair, “Just give him time, okay? Let him figure out this place isn’t as bad as the segyein, too. Let him figure out his own way to live.”
-
“I know you want me to let him go,” Ivan says, one lazy afternoon, as they’re both playing cards, this time in the little rec room within the medical wing.
She doesn't spend all of her time with him anymore, but she still comes by most days.
”I never said that I wanted you to do that,” Mizi responds, unsure where he’s coming from.
“But I can’t leave him behind,” Ivan says, “If I keep living, I will eventually forget him.”
“What about if you die? Won’t you forget him then too?”
“I’ll be dead,” Ivan says, “It won’t matter anymore.”
“It will matter to me,” Mizi says, “And Till is dead,” she adds, “It will not matter to him whether or not you keep living.”
Ivan shrugs.
“It matters to me,” he says, “I can’t move on, not like you have. I can’t forget about him.”
Mizi’s gaze hardens.
“You think I’ve forgotten about Sua?”
Her voice is surprisingly steady.
“I haven’t forgotten,” she says, staying firm, “But if I let it consume me then I can’t do anything to prevent it from happening again. You are not saving Till by never moving on, you are just letting him kill you.”
“He already killed me once remember? Back on the stage, and that was my choice.”
Ivan looks so certain, so sure of himself as he says this, and Mizi almost wants to cry.
“…can’t you change your mind?”
-
The next day she has an idea.
It’s simple really
She talks to the medical staff, and clears it with them. She double checks with Hyuna too.
“You need fresh air,” she says to Ivan, “And you haven’t even had a chance to see the base yet, I’m going to give you a tour.”
She drags him out of the medical bay, then takes him through the rest of the building, to the cafeteria, the actual rec room, the library (which has real books because they’re far easier to maintain than datapads, even if they can't store as much data on them).
“Pick one,” she tells him.
He looks at her, uncertain.
“You don’t have to read it,” she says, grabbing one for herself that looks interesting enough, “But pick one anyway.”
They remain mostly unbothered by anyone else, save for a few curious glances at Ivan, who still has bandages covering his neck.
They get some food, it’s the same as what Ivan gets in the infirmary, just not hand-delivered by whatever staff are overseeing his care that day.
Finally, she stops by Hyuna’s room, knocking on the door.
“I need to grab my umbrella,” she says, “I think I left it here last time.”
Hyuna looks at her, then at Ivan standing behind her, and nods.
“Come in then,” she says, then pats Ivan on the back, “Good to see you getting out and about.”
“I don’t think I had much of a choice about being stuck in the medical wing,” Ivan says mildly, “Unless I’ve been allowed to roam free this whole time?”
“Right,” Hyuna says, sighing a little, “Sorry about that. We’ll try to let you out more.”
“There!” Mizi spots the umbrella, snatching it up, she pushes Ivan along, “We’ll get out of your hair now.”
Hyuna waves them off, then turns away, presumably heading back to her desk.
“Anytime.”
-
Mizi leads Ivan outside after that, and… she’s a little nervous about this part. She’s not sure how Ivan is going to react.
“Where are we going?” Ivan asks, glancing around at the different buildings.
“You told me yesterday that I’m forgetting about Sua,” she says, cutting through one of the courtyards where they grow their vegetables, “And what you said… maybe it’s true, maybe I have forgotten her to some extent.”
She ducks around a few more buildings, then into another courtyard.
There’s plants here too. Real grasses, some growing up to her knees, unlike the uniform and pristine meadows of Anakt garden.
There’s also grave markers, stones pulled out of the harsh environment, polished, and given new life here.
She notices Ivan looking at them curiously.
“It’s something the humans here do,” she says, “To remember the ones that have died.”
Ivan looks at her sharply.
“I…” she says, “Maybe this is a bad idea but I thought you should know,” she leads him to a set of three headstones, “There’s one for Till, one for Sua, and, well… one for you, I suppose we’ll have to remove it now.”
Ivan crouches down by Till’s, examining it with his intense gaze.
“I… I like to come out here sometimes, to be with them. Maybe not as often as I would have liked but-”
“Is he here?” Ivan asks, cutting her off.
“What?”
“His body, it went missing, did you bring it back with you?”
That catches Mizi off guard.
“I- sorry yes, he’s here. Like, right here, um, buried a few feet down. It’s a tradition, Hyuna explained it to me once. And I thought…” tears are starting to well up in her eyes, “I thought he’d want to be here, rather than back with the segyein, I thought he’d have wanted that freedom.”
“You brought him here,” Ivan says, hand clutching at the grass now, “You helped him escape.”
Something about the way he says that makes her break.
“I tried,” she says, tears flowing freely now, “I tried to save him Ivan, I really did.”
She sinks down to the ground with him, unable to stop crying. She hasn’t felt this way in ages now, but the grief is still there, underneath it all, it still hurts.
Ivan hums.
“You did better than I ever could, at least.”
She shakes her head.
“No,” she says, “You were his friend, and I know you didn't always get along, but... you’d always keep him company, even when I was off with Sua, and you never let them keep those restraints on him whenever you could help it. You cared.”
Ivan opens his mouth, like he wants to argue.
“I miss Sua so much,” she says, “I couldn’t even bring her body back but… I don’t regret loving her. She made my life better, she made it bearable, even if it hurts now. Even if I’m moving on.”
She looks at Ivan.
“Will you stay with me?” she asks, “At least for a little while?”
“I already have a grave here,” he says, “I could stay here forever if I wanted to.”
Mizi shakes her head.
“That’s not what I was asking,” she says, then drags him over to sit beside her, wedged somewhere between Sua and Till’s stones, “Just… sit here with me for a little bit.”
She pops open the umbrella Hyuna gave her, for some shade, props it up, and then lies down on the grass, as if she were truly back in the garden.
Ivan is not looking at her, instead he’s looking out, looking distant, lost in some thought that she could never reach.
He takes a deep breath, and leans back into the grass with her.
“Alright,” he says, “But only for a little while.”