Eno sat on the sofa and watched as Martin emerged from the lift, turned to the bar in the open kitchen with ease, took out a tube of nutrition and poured it into his mouth.
It was then that Eno had a chance to get a good look at him. Martin had an ordinary, grey face, with flat, featureless features, the kind of face that no one would remember if he was thrown into a pile of people. He was tall, with long legs curled up in a wheelchair, covered by a warm fleece cloth. He looked rugged, tyrannical and not at all appealing to Omegas. Supposedly on Alpha pheromone inhibitors, he didn’t smell like an Alpha at all, which made Eno quite comfortable.
Eno just leaned back on the couch and watched him finish the tube of nutrients, tossing the empty plastic bottle into a bin not far away in a perfect parabola before pushing his wheelchair in the direction of the lift.
He stopped as he passed Eno and said indifferently: “There is food in the kitchen, cook your own food if you don’t want to drink the nutrients.”
Eno almost jumped up from the sofa: “I’m holding my breath, how do you still know I’m here!”
“Because you smell like an Omega.” Martin said, “It’s either the pheromones or the scent of an Omega.”
Eno, now convinced that he really did hate Omegas, consciously hid on the far side of the sofa and decided to stay away from him from now on. Martin smirked and continued towards the lift.
“I can cook and it tastes okay.” Eno called after him, “Want to try some?”
Martin ignored him and entered the lift without looking back. Eno sighed and went around the kitchen, which was full of ingredients and pots and pans, as new as if no one had ever touched them. Fed up with the sour and bitter leftovers and supplements from the prison, he threw a handful of green peppers and shredded meat into the pan and stir-fried them, opened a box of self-heating rice and ate it, putting the dishes back where they belonged.
The whole villa was silent, the door to Martin’s bedroom was closed and nothing was moving. Eno lay back on the sofa and rubbed his stomach, carefully lifting his shirt to reveal a few deep cuts on his lower abdomen, which had scabbed over and turned into deep red horizontal lines. Eno couldn’t remember when they had been made, probably whipped out when the Duchess had come to visit him in prison last month. Hell knows where that soft-looking female Omega got all that strength, and Eno couldn’t help but huff when he thought back on it.
His new home was rather sparsely decorated, presumably because they thought the owner couldn’t see it, and there were signs of cutting corners everywhere. The overall décor stood out as a cold, black and white colour scheme, with even the vast majority of the furniture in cold, solid colours, devoid of the warmth of a so-called home. He took the black TV remote control, which stood out on the plain white sofa, and studied it for a moment before turning it on and putting it on silent mode. Eno thought about his new Alpha as he waited for the commercial, and although Martin seemed unpleasant to be around, he wasn’t really afraid of him, probably because he was crippled and blind, and Eno instinctively felt much less threatened.
At the end of the ten-second commercial, the television burst into a volume so loud that it almost deafened Eno. Before Martin came out in a rage to find him, Eno hastily pressed the mute, thought for a while and then turned the volume of the TV to the minimum, moved a small stool and sat in front of the TV to watch.
He didn’t like the silence, whether it was the Duke’s residence, the single cell or this small, old villa, it was suffocating. Eno was a bit of a lover of the action, but he had to be a good, quiet Omega who conformed perfectly to all manners and had been so self-inhibited that he had forgotten what he was really like.
The volume of the TV was low and he had to get very close to hear it. He switched to the news station, where the short-haired, competent Omega host was broadcasting the results of the latest round of the search for Federation Major General Drake.
Drake was said to be the dream Alpha of all the Omegas in the Federation, known throughout the Alliance for his superb good looks and rumours that he doesn’t get close to Os. Before that, he had a reputation as the new generation of the Federation’s War God, with a fighting style that was notoriously steady in its ruthlessness and desperation. It was this aggressive style of fighting that allowed him to break through in the pursuit of the remnants of the Inhumans, and his rank and merit points rose like mushrooms after rain. While everyone was speculating on what kind of Omega he would marry, this lord did something truly shocking – he used all his merit points to remove his genetic information from the control centre’s matching system, and went on to become a bachelor.
Eno couldn’t help but wonder how the difference between an Alpha and an Alpha could be so great, when both were also O-phobic and Drake was graceful, while Martin was just an annoying Alpha who threw tantrums. But being a bachelor wasn’t enough to counteract the many Omegas who coveted him, and every year when the Silver Cross led by Major General Drake returned to the capital star to report on his duties, there was a sea of red flags and drums, all throwing flowers at the Major General. Major General had piloted his fighter too abruptly during a battle with the remnants of the aliens, and the fighter crashed, leaving the Major General’s life or death unknown.
Two years later, he still appears on the Federation’s prime-time evening news from time to time, the video of the crash being played over and over again, earning a handful of hot tears of worry from the innocent teenage Omegas in the blur of explosive fire so thick you can’t see anything at all.
It also earned a handful of Eno’s. He quietly wiped the water from the corners of his eyes and turned his head unobtrusively to be confronted by Martin’s grim expression.
Martin’s wheelchair was parked in the corridor on the second floor, his face facing Eno’s direction.
Eno knew that people who lost their sight would have enhanced other sensory abilities, especially in an Alpha who had acute senses in all areas. He raised his voice slightly and shouted: “Did I bother you?”
“Yes.” Martin said grimly, “Do you watch Drake too?”
Eno was baffled: “Isn’t it normal to watch Drake, all the Omegas in the league like Drake.”
Martin gritted his teeth: “You’re married, second marriage, you know that?”
“I know.” Eno looked confused, “You’re telling me to get lost while stressing that I’m married for the second time, reflect on yourself, is there something wrong with you?”
Martin’s face darkened and reddened, and after a long time the words popped out of his teeth: “Do you want a divorce?”
Eno looked at Martin and then at the cool, crazy, handsome Drake on the TV and decided that there was no comparison between the crippled, blind, bad-tempered, unloved Martin and the almost perfect Alpha Drake, but he decided to respect the Alpha’s inexplicable and ridiculous dignity.
He took the stairs and climbed to the second floor, crouched in front of Martin’s wheelchair and said sincerely: “I’m sorry.”
Martin turned his face to him and raised one eyebrow.
Eno continued: “Although I don’t know if it’s true, I really shouldn’t have said you don’t raise1He’s referring to his third leg.”
Martin let out a deep breath and said meanly: “I shouldn’t have called you a rag either, although it’s true.”
Eno took him for a psychopath caused by his disability and softened his voice to talk to him properly: “I won’t turn on the volume anymore if you like it quiet. I’m sorry.”
Martin nodded haughtily, “I’ll buy you a pair of headphones when I get back. You have an light-brain in your bedroom, it’s already hooked up to the internet, no need to watch TV.”
Eno jumped up happily and kissed him on the cheek, the touch was incredibly soft, it was hard to imagine Martin’s rough looking face being so smooth to kiss. Martin paled and recoiled in horror, shouting: “Get away from me!”
Unfazed, Eno coaxed patiently: “Don’t divorce, okay? I know you don’t like me, it’s just that I have unfinished business…When I’m done, I’ll ask for a divorce and go serve my sentence on the waste planet, and I won’t bother you anymore. Just be kind enough to take me in for a while, okay?”
There was no expression on Martin’s face, and after a few moments he said dismissively, “What wishes can you still have?”
“There’s someone I’d really like to see.” Eno said softly, “One more look at him in person would be enough.”
Martin sneered and turned to push the wheelchair back to the bedroom.
“I have someone I really want to see, too.” He said before he left, “Never to be seen again.”
After that, Eno and Martin lived in peace for a few days. They didn’t bother each other and were more than happy with each other’s current state of life.
Martin came down from the lift at seven in the morning and sensed that the living room was empty and that Eno should still be asleep in his room. He pushes open the door, which is almost covered in dust, and the intelligent wheelchair navigates itself, taking him towards the Ren’ai2仁爱 (rén ài): benevolence Hospital, a few kilometres away.
Disabled people are still well-catered for under contemporary social civilisation, with special blind and wheelchair lanes all along the roads and pedestrians will consciously avoid it. Martin arrived at the hospital without encountering any obstacles. He took the barrier-free lift to the seventh floor rehabilitation department and knocked on the opaque glass door of the innermost consultation room.
A very delicate-looking Omega in a nurse’s uniform came out to open the door for him, took the wheelchair and pushed him in. Also in the room were two Alphas in plain clothes, each with a panicked expression on their faces.
Martin paused for a few seconds, then he cursed angrily: “What are you guys doing?!”
“I asked you to protect him from death, and you protected him into my house?! What’s the use of having you guys?”
“That…” The Omega rushed forward to smooth his breath along his back, not even daring to breathe, “It’s just that your genetic match with him is too high, and if you want to cancel the match with 90% or more, you have to report it to the highest level control centre for review. There’s no way to do it, boss.”
“Then we’ll divorce.” Martin said firmly, “Hold his sentence down, send a couple of Alphas to the waste planet to guard him for three or five years until his sentence is commuted and he’s released.”
“This…” the Omega began bitterly, “Indefinite period is already the minimum, the crime he committed is too great…”
Martin frowned, “It’s just killing an Alpha, the Imperial Criminal Code says twenty years at most, go in and get a reduced sentence of seven or eight years and you’ll be out. What else has he done?”
The Omega also looked helpless: “You’re talking about ordinary murder, boss. He’s different, he viciously murdered an Alpha, and the death penalty is capped with indefinite period.”
A deathly silence fell over the room and Martin pressed his temples painfully as he asked in a deep voice, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“When I said it, you were standing in front of the window holding up a picture of sister-in-law looking at it……”
Seeing Martin’s face getting worse, the Omega hurriedly said: “Why don’t I take out the file and you can read it again?”
Martin nodded slightly and the Omega ran off in a huff. The two remaining plainclothes Alphas came around and discussed other matters with Martin in low voices.
After two hours, Martin withdrew from the inspection device and looked quietly in the opposite direction. The kind-faced doctor flipped through the reports that were leaping out of the printer with a gradual frown.
“The eyes still have no light perception.” He said slowly, “Major General, be prepared for a long struggle.”
The corners of Martin’s mouth sank slightly, but he simply nodded calmly, “You’ve worked hard.”
The old doctor sighed and pushed his wheelchair next door to the rehabilitation room, where another middle-aged doctor was already ready, took the wheelchair, lifted the soft fleece padding and pressed hard on the muscles that had begun to soften under his slacks: “Still no feeling?”
Martin shook his head.
The doctor’s voice sounded slightly regretful: “Normally a broken nerve link will recover on its own when nourished by pheromones, in your case we would recommend a further period of observation and if there is no response then an artificial link can be made. It’s just that if you have surgery…the nerve link won’t be as perfect and you may not be able to go back into battle.”
Martin pursed his lips and after a long time he said softly: “I want to wait a little longer.”
The doctor nodded and carried him aside to a convalescent bed for a maintenance massage of the leg muscles to prevent them from atrophying in the long absence of use. Martin’s empty eyes stared at the ceiling, not sure what he was thinking.
After an unknown amount of time, the regular three shallow knocks on the door sounded and the doctor went over and opened it, the Omega’s little head poked in and closed it quickly. He clutched a pile of Braille-printed files and shoved them all into Martin’s hands.
Martin expertly touched the bumps that rose and fell, his expression growing more and more stony the more he looked at them.
Killing, dismemberment, expressing in court that he would not apologise or repent, major suspicion that he would re-commit his crimes…he’s really something, the indefinite period sentence was not due to the efforts of that little Omega, Nightingale, it was the blessings he had cultivated in eight hundred lifetimes that made the judge dizzy.
He turned to the next page, the courtroom conversation.
“Why did you do it?”
“I’d die if I didn’t grab the knife.”
“You accused him of domestic violence against you, and grabbing the knife could be considered moderate self-defence, a legal act protected by law. Why did you kill Kersi and dismember him after taking the knife?”
“Well.” He could almost imagine Omega’s upturned eyebrows and careless tone, “Because he was worth it.”
Martin closed the file with a snap and tossed it to Nightingale: “Take it away.”
Nightingale’s expression was terrified: “You see…”
“Find an excuse to get rid of him after a while.” Martin pressed his eye point with a headache, “Find a random planet far away for him to live on.”
Nightingale said cautiously, “You two are such a good genetic match, why don’t you try? Boss, it’s been eight years since sister-in-law left…”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realised that something was wrong, and Martin’s face turned blue: “So you’re asking me to pick up my second married brother-in-law?”
Having been with him for five years, Nightingale knew what could and could not be said, and immediately apologised with a mournful, before taking the case file and destroying it. He went out and leaned against the snowy white wall of the corridor, his face full of tears.
Where was the promised dream A of every Omega in the Federation? He had come here with all his hopes and aspirations, and had gone through five stages, beating six generals fought his way through all the Beta’s to become the Major General’s adjutant, but now his dreams had been shattered to pieces, and now he just wants to resign and go home to live a good life with his Alpha.
