Sing Down the Stars

by Nerine Dorman

  “I still think we need to get you to the clinic,” Mei said.

  Their concern was making Nuri’s eyes even more scratchy – and the last thing she needed now was to break down in front of her squad mates. “No, I don’t want to be any trouble. And look, the bathroom’s a mess.”

  “I’ll deal with the bathroom,” F’Thr vowed. “And when I find out where Opna’s hiding, I’m going to kick his grey butt till the emergence.”

  “I’ll stand in line and help,” Mei said.

  “Only after I’ve had my go at him,” Nuri added, managing a weak chuckle that made her sides spasm.

  “Come, I’ll get you to a doc-bot at least,” Mei said, then looked at F’Thr. “You’ll be all right clearing up here? I’d help you, but …”

  “Don’t worry – I started this.” He sighed so hard his facial tentacles vibrated.

  “I’ll come help you when I’m done.” Nuri pressed her hand to her ribs, hoping nothing was busted. “I’m sure they’ll just give me some painkillers or something.”

  * * *

  Raphel met them as they were entering the clinic, his face tight with worry. “I came as soon as I could.”

  “I’m fine,” Nuri said, even though every small movement of her head made her world spin.

  “No, you’re not,” Raphel and Mei said in unison.

  As it turned out, Nuri needed more than painkillers. The medical AI booked her into the clinic overnight, citing observation for possible concussion. According to the assessment, the wound at the back of her head was uglier than she’d thought.

  Once Raphel had asked a few questions, Mei was the one who remained behind, telling jokes and sharing gossip, since Nuri wasn’t allowed to go to sleep yet. They’d never had an opportunity to bond before, and Nuri had always thought the diminutive Old Terran girl was standoffish, more interested in her study modules than making friends. She’d been mistaken.

  “I have an admission to make,” Mei said before she left for dinner. “And I’m sorry about being so aloof. I thought you were just …” She blinked rapidly, her dark lashes fluttering. “I thought it would be better if I didn’t get involved. But I’ve realised that if I just do nothing, remain neutral, then …” Mei shrugged helplessly. “There’s an old saying about how bad things flourish when good people do nothing. And while what F’Thr talked you and Opna into doing was a bit … extreme” – she managed a wry smile – “what Vella and her friends are doing is just wrong. Everyone deserves a chance. Doesn’t matter who you are. Or where you come from.”

  9

  “What do you mean Opna’s gone?” Nuri sat down next to F’Thr in their dorm and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder.

  F’Thr turned to her, his usually large orange eyes mere slits. “He’s gone and dropped out. Actually dropped out. He said we were in this together, and now this?”

  “I thought …” His family must’ve paid a lot to have him at the facility, and Katha had sounded so set against his leaving.

  F’Thr heaved out an enormous sigh. “By all rights, I’m the one who should go.”

  “I just don’t get it.” Nuri shook her head.

  “I don’t either.”

  “I’m sorry, F’Thr. Really, I am. I know I’ve only just come in here, and you’d had a chance to become fast friends.”

  “It’s nothing. I’m used to it.” F’Thr rose, flexing the tentacles on his arms. “I’m glad you’re okay and that you’re still here. And I don’t care that you were a barrens-scrapper.”

  Nuri tried to stifle a moan of dismay. “Everyone’s saying this now, aren’t they?” She’d missed the fallout from the incident in the bathroom. How in all the stars had that information gotten out?

  “Oh, that’s all the Nasty Girls are talking about. You forget Vella’s dad works for Calan City Security. He’s quite high up in Information Security.”

  Security that shouldn’t be so free with private information. “But that’s –”

  “Unethical? Yeah, well. It’s not exactly a state secret. I did a bit of digging on runner activity from the barrens.” F’Thr dragged out his tablet and pulled up a screen. “Search: Barrens runners. Images.”

  “You’ve got access to outside Net?” Nuri asked.

  “Shhh.”

  The screen projected on the wall and came up with a range of visuals. F’Thr scrolled until he came to a few shots of the north-western barrens, and sure enough, there were three visuals and one video clip of Nuri and two of her pack mates making an undeniable getaway, security bots in pursuit. There was no mistaking her, even though she no longer had dreads.

  “Ancestors’ balls,” Nuri whispered.

  F’Thr turned to her, the picture of misery. “It’s all blown up because Vella’s parents are insisting you be removed. That you’re a bad influence and that your very presence is compromising the integrity of the programme. And I think that’s what Opna used as leverage to get himself out. He never wanted to be here anyway, and his family … Well, they’re a bunch of snobs. It wouldn’t take much to convince them. Even though they’ve spent oodles of money.”

  “They’re going to kick me out.” Nuri’s throat closed.

  “No, they’re not.” F’Thr gave a ragged laugh. “That’s the whole thing. I did a bit more snooping. Turns out there was a memo sent among all the facilitators, giving you unanimous support. Because you were called. And they want to see whether you perform according to certain factions’ expectations. But there’ve been quite a few unexpected dropouts. Not just Opna. People don’t like the fact that the facility want to see what ‘equal opportunity’ will do in your case.”

  “So, I’m some sort of social experiment?” Nuri couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her tone.

  F’Thr shrugged, closed his tablet. “Dunno. Something like that. Damn, ladypants, you’ve got a serious patron, that’s all I can say. I can’t dig up anything about Citizen Tien.”

  “Good.” Nuri flopped down on her bunk, wincing at the twinge in her ribs. “There’s nothing to be dug up.”

  “But you know something, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know jack diddly squat.”

  “You’re an awful liar.”

  “Deal with it.” Nuri allowed herself a tight smile.

  F’Thr scooted over and rested his arms on Nuri’s bunk, his facial tentacles twitching mere centimetres from her nose. “You know I don’t give up easily.”

  “Good luck. The whole world and his wife already know my deepest, darkest dirty laundry, and Vella and the Nasty Girls are flapping it all around for everyone to see.”

  Just then the door opened, and Mei stuck in her head. “Hey!” Her smile lit up her face. “You’re back!”

  Nuri raised herself into a seated position. “Yeah.”

  “I was about to go fetch you for dinner.”

  “Well, I’m here.” Nuri gestured at herself. “A bit bruised and sore, but otherwise still full of myself.”

  F’Thr got up with a groan. “We may as well go face the BS from the Nasty Girls. Any idea how many Chosen have left the programme?”

  “Only about half a dozen or so,” Mei said with a slight frown. “Not nearly as many who threatened some form of protest. They’re all hot air, for the most. And those who dropped out weren’t scoring well, in any case. Whiners, if you ask me, and not particularly serious about standing for the emergence.”

  “Pity!” F’Thr crowed. “Guess I’m just going to have to accept the fact that I’m seeing this all the way through to the end.”

  “You damned well will,” Nuri told him.

  “Oh” – Mei narrowed her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand – “you’re both going to love this. Stasja’s managed to get herself moved to Vella’s dorm. Seems there’s an extra space there now that one of their squad has left.”

  “Great!” F’Thr and Nuri exclaimed at the same time. F’Thr recovered before Nuri did with a “Double jinx!”.

  Her sides hurt when she laughed,
but by the ancestors it felt good.

  * * *

  It was either very late or stupidly early when Nuri crept out of the sliver of window and onto the ledge. The cold air slapped her face and she was instantly awake. She couldn’t honestly say what possessed her save that she was in the grip of a burning need to be outside, away from others.

  The walls were crowding in on her. Everywhere she went, there were people. She couldn’t last remember when she’d been alone long enough to hear herself think.

  Winter had set in good and proper, and it was so cold her breath misted in front of her face as she clambered down the gutter. The lack of good hand- and footholds made this especially tricky, and while she descended, this was all that occupied her – another challenge. Lost in the physical act of climbing, she could concentrate solely on the sensations of each surface on her fingers, of bracing herself, of risking the danger of falling. Not that she’d fallen in a while, and not that her dorm room was that high from the ground. She could make the jump, easy-peasy. But she wanted to try the climb. So far no one had been able to. Hopefully the security AI wouldn’t rat on her.

  Once she was on the ground, she darted to the shadow of the opposite building, dashing around the corner before one of the security bots hummed past. The bot was a small, silvery disk that hovered about a metre off the ground, scanning. She wasn’t sure if it detected heat signatures, but she’d rather not risk it sensing her. It felt better having a solid structure between her and possible sensors.

  Granted, there were still security cameras about, cunningly hidden, so she’d have to be quick. This was stupid, really, but the thrill of doing something that could possibly land her in a great deal of trouble made her heart beat a little faster, made her senses come alive. No alarms, though. Just Nuri and patches of inky shadow as she slipped beyond the obstacle course and into the forest.

  Strangely, she missed the north-western barrens. She hated to admit it, but she did. She missed her usual routes across roofs and along walls, the little gaps between buildings, the hiding places only pack knew about. The lights, the colour. Did they even miss her? In the time that she’d been running for Vadith – seven years once she’d proved she could follow orders without getting caught – he’d always sent runners to investigate missing pack mates, but once it had become clear that they’d vanished without a trace, life had continued. Nuri could only guess that the same had happened in her absence, and a small measure of sadness crept in.

  Shiv, even G’Ren and the others – they were the closest thing to family she’d ever had. Had being the operative word.

  Was this what life was going to be – loose connections that fell apart as fast as they formed, with Nuri too scared to open her heart? That promise of wholeness that she’d felt with the calling teased her – what must it be like to be bonded to another so seamlessly?

  Though she’d intended to creep to the forest and perhaps run the perimeter, Nuri strayed back to the hangar instead. There, behind the featureless grey walls, was the Seed. It was inconceivable that a nymph would eventually emerge and ascend to orbit around the planet. The facilitators had taught them as much as was available on the records about the star-jumpers.

  They didn’t quite look like spaceships. Well, obviously. They were living organisms that harnessed the power of suns and an unknown type of inter-dimensional energy, so far as the scientists could tell. No one knew, and the existing avatars who’d had dealings with authorities certainly weren’t talking. Each star-jumper looked different too, but all of them were sleek, long, and with numerous veined fins – some of which were armed with lethal spikes. Their heads made Nuri think of predators she’d seen during lessons that lived in the deep oceans. Except the star-jumpers had no mouths, and their eyes were massive and blacker than the blackest black. Their skins shimmered mother-of-pearl. There was something monstrous yet beautiful about them. Like dragons, maybe. The laws of reality that applied to all other living beings didn’t seem to matter to star-jumpers, who could rip the very fabric of space and time, blink out of existence in one place and appear nearly instantly thousands of light years away.

  Why would they even seek an alliance with humanoids?

  Nuri leant against the hangar wall, tempted to query with her psi-awareness, but feeling oddly shy about it.

  Nothing. Just the rough texture of the structure pressed to her cheek.

  Small amphibians plinked and croaked nearby in the grassy verges.

  “Hey,” said someone nearby.

  Nuri gave a small shriek and rounded on the shadowy figure that stood six or so paces from her.

  “Raphel!”

  “The one and only.” His smile was bright against his dark skin. “Should I be concerned that you’re not safely tucked in your bed? The AI sent me to check up on you instead of creating an alert.”

  Nuri shook her head and tried not to show her tension. “I couldn’t sleep. Am I in trouble?”

  “Depends, luv.” Raphel approached, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “That was some stealth on your part. The sensors only picked up your movement when you cut back from the forest.”

  Nuri swore softly. She should have stuck to her original plan. “I’m sorry. But I needed some space to – ” She waved her hand helplessly about her face. “I … sometimes can’t hear myself think. Too much noise.”

  “You were running to find silence the night you came here, weren’t you, luv? Before you heard the call.” Raphel closed the distance between them and leant up against the wall next to her.

  A sigh escaped her, and she toed at a clod of loose turf. “Maybe.”

  A moment of quiet hung between them, and Nuri grew uncomfortable with the pressing silence. He was waiting for her to speak, wasn’t he?

  “I haven’t heard the … anything since I arrived here.”

  “And now you’re doubting whether it was all in your imagination to start with?”

  “Yesss,” Nuri hissed.

  Raphel gazed into the middle distance. He caught his bottom lip in his teeth, then straightened with an exhalation. “Come.”

  He marched towards the entrance to the hangar, and Nuri trotted after, puzzled and more than just a little bit startled by the sudden shift in his demeanour.

  The door’s lock flashed green as he approached, and he ushered her inside the office and then down the passage.

  “Surely I’m not allowed here …”

  “Hush now. Just come. We won’t get into trouble if we’re quick. And if we do get caught, I’ll take the rap.”

  The interior of the hangar was warm, and Nuri began to shiver. It had been colder outside than she’d thought. Raphel hung back at the door, gesturing for her to carry on inside.

  “You’ve got ten, twenty minutes. I’ll wait. Just spend some time here. Think about things. Open yourself up to possibility.”

  Nuri was certain she must be wild-eyed, but she squared her shoulders and approached the Seed.

  It was larger than the last time she’d been here – noticeably so. In fact, even as she watched, it expanded, fraction by fraction, in tiny pulses, with the grating of fine crystal against crystal. The psi-fields around it crackled, made the small hairs on her nape prickle. The overhead lights sparked off the jagged shards and newer filaments that reached ever outwards, as if tasting the area around the Seed’s heart. And oh, the colours. Opalescent blues, greens, with facets of rose, all shifting, gleaming. Nuri couldn’t help but approach, and as she did so, the hummmm of the Seed grew louder and more insistent in her mind. It buzzed in her very bones.

  When she pressed her palm to her collarbone, she could even feel the vibrations there, and she grew short of breath.

  The closer she drew to the Seed, the more she shook with the sense that this was a path that was laid before her, unavoidable. The sensation she gathered from slightly pushing her awareness suggested a slumbering alien intelligence that contemplated the courses of stars, so vast as to make her feel as if she stood on the edge of
an abyss.

  She gasped, stumbled backwards, and Raphel was there to steady her.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered.

  “She’s sleeping, dreaming of the stars,” Nuri murmured, filled with wonder. “And she’ll awaken sooner than we expect.” How she knew that, she wasn’t sure, but the certainty sparked a wild fire in her. All that she’d experienced so far, was for this – this moment, this potential – and she wasn’t about to let the pettiness of the Nasty Girls stop her.

  10

  “You all right, Nuri?” Mei asked that morning as they got ready for their early run. Byron and F’Thr had already gone downstairs, and it was just the two girls in the dorm room.

  Nuri tightened the straps of her running shoes. “Yeah, all right.”

  “I saw you climb out the window.” Already dressed and waiting, Mei dangled her legs off her bunk.

  “And you didn’t rat on me.” It wasn’t a question.

  Mei shook her head. “I figured you had your reasons. Things have been pretty intense lately. We all need a bit of breathing room.”

  “Thank you,” Nuri said.

  Mei’s smile was warm. “You found what you were looking for.”

  She was right – Nuri did feel lighter, more resolute.

  “C’mon, Mei, let’s see if we can make the Nasty Girls eat our dust.”

  “More like mud.”

  They both laughed as they hurried into the press of fellow recruits all trotting down the passage, voices echoing.

  The nudge, when it came, happened on the stairs as Nuri took the first step down. More like a shove, really, but telekinetic, and hard. No chance to block it. Finely honed reflexes took over instead. Damage control.

  If you can’t recover your balance, use the forward momentum for a controlled landing, her muscle memory informed her. Only there were others ahead of her, and her legs fouled with another recruit’s. The impacts to her head, her arms, her chest were sudden, breathtaking, so that when she skidded to a halt with a pile of bodies on top of her and the stairs digging into her ribs, she couldn’t at first figure out what had happened.