Sing Down the Stars

by Nerine Dorman

  “We discussed this,” Alda hissed at him, and made a cutting motion with her hand. “Those few objectors are in a minority, and their displeasure holds no weight, no matter the outrage in the media. We are not impecunious. There are other –” The woman blinked, settled back in her chair. “We will go through the financials later, T’Atmar.” Alda turned to regard Nuri. “This is not something that Nuri should concern herself with, do you agree?”

  T’Atmar grumbled his assent.

  “For now.” Alda let out a deep exhalation, her gaze penetrating right into Nuri’s heart. “Nuri, we understand the difficulties you have faced, not only in your getting here, but also in responding to the threats posed within your environment. We realise that we will have to now step in to salvage the situation, since we recognise our failure in foreseeing this particular outcome. And for that, we apologise. We request that you focus on your raw talent and the purpose of your inclusion in this programme. And for the love of all the ancestors, the next time you feel the urge to blast anyone using your psi, take the necessary steps to curb your powers before there are any fatalities. It is our belief that specialised training will equip you with these skills, and since you are a ward of our facility, we will give your ongoing education and training and care our utmost attention. We expect the same courtesy from you.”

  Alda’s gaze held hers, and Nuri fought the urge to look away. She would not show any weakness in front of her elders. Nuri flexed against a knot of tension, then inclined her head sharply, once.

  “I will try my best.”

  “Better than your best. You are a Citizen now. With that comes responsibilities not only to yourself, but to your fellows.”

  Nuri’s world plunged beneath her feet. She hadn’t thought of Citizenship as being almost like being part of a pack, but it was true. Smaller packs within bigger packs. It all made sense. The only question remaining was, did she want to run with a pack or was she a loner?

  A place to belong. That mattered. That was worth fighting for.

  Katha’s mouth twitched upwards, and he offered her a sharp nod of which she was certain only the two of them were aware.

  “I guess that concludes this meeting,” T’Atmar said as he heaved his bulk out of the chair. His voluminous purple robe fluttered about him.

  “You may go,” Alda said to Nuri, who couldn’t leave fast enough, her chest light as if a massive pandor had just removed its foot.

  Somehow, she’d not gotten herself booted out of the programme, she marvelled as she hurried down the passages and out of the administration as fast as she could manage, because every footstep jolted her. Raphel hadn’t waited for her, but that didn’t bother her at all.

  She was soon outside. It was late afternoon, and the sun had thinned the grey of the cloud cover enough that she could gaze up at its white disk without squinting.

  There was nowhere pressing she had to go just yet, no one watching her – that she was aware of, at any rate, though all Chosen were under surveillance all the time. A sweet moment at present, for certain. If she lingered, one of the facilitators or squad leaders might spot her, so Nuri went to one of the outdoor R&R areas, and sat at one of the tables, where she scrolled through her messages via her AR.

  For the first time in forever, she had messages that were not related to the programme and its educational modules. Mei, F’Thr, Byron, they all sent short audio clips – reassurances, concern. Nuri’s heart contracted almost painfully at the genuine warmth she detected in their tone.

  There was a text message from Fadhil Tien. Of course there was. She almost trashed it without reading it, but opened it, nearly short of breath.

  * * *

  Dear Nuri

  While I’m certainly disquieted by the latest turn of events, and though my application for a visitor permit was (at this time) declined, I’d like to at least leave you with the reassurance that no matter how events transpire, you have my full support. In other words, don’t be dismayed. You are not going through a particularly easy rite of passage into adulthood, and although I know you do not fully trust me at this point, I do have your back.

  Know that you can come to me about anything.

  And I mean that.

  Fadhil

  * * *

  How did she respond to that?

  Nuri blinked a few times, then returned a simple thank you. What else could she say? She wasn’t used to unburdening herself to people, and all this care confused her, shook the ground beneath her feet.

  So she sat for a while longer, enjoying the warmth of the sun. And no, she wasn’t crying. Her eyes were just a little bit scratchy, that was all. Only dust. Nothing a quick face-wash in the bathrooms wouldn’t sort out before she went to meet her friends.

  12

  “You all know how to play hide and seek, don’t you?” Raphel announced.

  For once all the Chosen – numbering nearly two hundred, despite the attrition of those who’d dropped out – shuffled about on the main sports field in the grey dawn. Mist blanketed everything, and turned the facility grounds into a pale, ghostly version of itself. Nuri preferred it this way; it made the grounds mysterious, as if they continued into infinity. The bleakness of the blockish buildings was softened, made almost unreal.

  Only now it was so cold, she feared her face would be frozen solid, and she hugged her fingers under her armpits, like so many of her fellow recruits.

  A few nodded at Raphel’s announcement; some even snickered. Hide and seek was for littlies, wasn’t it?

  “Wide games are an important part of the way we test Chosen,” Raphel continued. “How a few of you perform today will count towards whether you pass through the first winnowing. Or not.”

  Well, that got people’s attention. Heads snapped up; faces turned to the facilitator.

  The cold didn’t seem to bother Raphel. He stood on top of a storage crate of equipment and, damn, he was wearing short sleeves and his skin didn’t even have gooseflesh.

  Nuri’s teeth were chattering so much she nipped her tongue.

  Next to her, F’Thr had gone nearly as grey as the mist, and his eyes were closed to mere slits. J’Veth didn’t like the cold; that much she knew. Mei chafed his arms, and F’Thr leant in to her for whatever warmth he could get. Even Byron was hugging himself.

  “While for the past few weeks you’ve been offered an educational curriculum that will begin to prepare you for the kinds of skills sets expected of an avatar, and you’ve had basic fitness and combat training. The time has now come for an as-near-as real-life scenario to challenge you on what you’ve learnt. It will test your wits, your nerves and your physical prowess.”

  Byron’s grin was rapt, and he stood tall. “I frigging love wide games,” he murmured.

  “Bully for you,” Mei returned.

  “Shhhh.” Nuri held a finger to her lips.

  “This one’s called ‘scout hunting’, an ancient Terran game used for training their younglings. A lucky one of you will be our scout. You will be given a head start of ten minutes to get as far away as possible into the grounds. The rest of you lucky sods will be our hunters. You’ll fan out and search. For our scout, remember, the further away you hide, the wider your hunters will have to search to find you, so you’ll have more of an opportunity to create gaps. That being said,” Raphel snickered, clearly enjoying himself, “the further out you go, the longer you have to return to home base without getting caught.” He tapped the storage crate with a foot. “You’re going to be hiding, stalking, running. This exercise is all about keeping your head when you’re being actively pursued.”

  A chorus of commentary broke out among the recruits. Byron air-punched.

  “Wait, this is the part where you say you were the one who caught your scout the last time you did this,” Nuri grumbled at him.

  “It’s so fun!” Byron looked genuinely puzzled that she didn’t share his enthusiasm.

  “I’ll just be glad to get moving,” F’Thr said. “If I stand sti
ll any longer, I’ll go into hibernation.”

  “I think they call it brumation for cold-blooded organisms,” Mei said. “And you’ve got an unfair advantage once you’re out there.”

  “Trust me, I’m not going to be turning leafy green with this cold,” he bit back. “Too much energy.”

  “Oi!” Raphel hollered. “Pipe down!”

  Abruptly, the uproar quietened.

  “I can see you’re all absolutely dying with excitement.” His smile flashed white and wide.

  “F-f-freezing into popsicles,” someone muttered, to a chorus of giggles.

  “You’ll all be moving shortly,” Raphel said. “Now, to choose our lucky scout.”

  Nuri shrank against Mei almost instinctively. She wasn’t sure what prescience warned her, but her stomach started contorting itself into knots as Raphel made a show of casting about. But she knew. Oh, she knew when his gaze locked with hers and that finger swung around.

  “We’ll pick this one.” Raphel winked at her.

  “Ancestors’ balls,” Nuri whispered with a groan.

  “Cool,” Byron said. “You show ’em.”

  All around her, heads swivelled. Fellow Chosen muttered, some appreciatively, others with less charitable opinions.

  “You’ve got this.” Mei squeezed Nuri’s hand.

  F’Thr leant in on her other side. “I’ll do what I can to keep Vella and the others occupied.”

  “F’Thr,” Mei said. “You can’t intervene.”

  He offered a gargled chuckle in response.

  Raphel clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “No kicking, no punching, no using objects – found or otherwise – as weapons.” Raphel was speaking louder too, because the recruits were becoming restless, turning to one another. “Remember our unarmed combat training. I don’t want any strains, sprains or broken bones.”

  “Crap, crap, crap,” Nuri muttered, worrying what Vella and her friends might have in store for her if they caught her.

  “Nuri, your ten minutes start now,” Raphel said.

  Her heart wanted to explode, but then hadn’t she already taken leaps that had defied death? Hadn’t she been chased by bots, rival gangs? Hadn’t she survived falls that would’ve killed lesser runners? Been shot at? This was a game in comparison.

  In any case, hesitation meant failure. Nuri ran.

  * * *

  The forest was dim and drippy, and the thick layer of fallen leaves made a spongy carpet that absorbed the sounds of Nuri’s footfalls. In a way, a forest was more difficult than a building. Feet left marks on the ground, branches that released their burden of dew betrayed her passage, and vegetation was crushed, disturbed. Birds and flying reptiles took to the wing when she passed; they may as well have been a flashing neon sign above her head. Yet the trees were also the answer, she realised, bringing all her knowledge to bear.

  So it was down to the stream, where the stones would hide her footprints, and then a leap up into the ancient pilaar trees. The trees had names now, from her AR that fed details in a discreet scroll of text to the right of her vision. Pilaar trees were indigenous to the Karcut system and had been introduced to planetary systems like this one during secondary terraforming. Low-hanging branches with dense foliage would screen her from the ground below. Nuri was small, light. If she kept quiet and timed her movements, she could move from tree to tree like one of those squirrel-like rodents. Not squirrels, her AR informed her. But rodent-like creatures from the Hoi system. They resembled the Old Terra squirrels, so the name had kinda stuck. If Nuri wanted, she could find out more, but she minimised the feed.

  Knowing intricate details about arboreal rodents wasn’t going to help her stay ahead off the trouble.

  Climbing felt right, though, and there was something about the stomach-clenching tension of knowing others were actively seeking her. Loath as she was to admit it, Nuri had missed this element of insecurity, of not knowing whether her smallest misstep would get her into more trouble. Out here, even among the swaying branches and the wet blanket of air, she was free. Like that night she’d climbed the aerial and caught the Seed’s signal.

  Maybe if she climbed to the top of a pilaar …

  No. Focus, Nuri.

  She steeled herself and ascended that little bit further so that she was wedged in the hollow of a pilaar’s elbow. Crumbled under her fingers, the bark smelled faintly of cinnamon, and she concentrated on getting her breathing under control. Now was not the time to collapse in a bundle of nerves.

  Yet up here, it was as if she was in a different world. The heart-shaped leaves were a green so dark they might as well be black, and when the slight breeze ruffled the boughs, the foliage set off a light susurrus. The bits of sky that made patches in the canopy were soft grey, downy, and a faint pinprick of moisture on her exposed skin reminded her that the longer she stayed out here, the wetter and colder she’d become.

  Surely ten minutes must have passed. She strained her hearing but detected only the drip-drop of moisture striking the leaf litter below, along with the plinking of amphibians in the little river not far off.

  A whistle sounded then, thin and piercing in the distance, and Nuri’s stomach clenched. The signal. The hunt was on. She squared her shoulders, hoping to calm herself. By some twist of fate, having nearly two hundred people searching for her was more nerve-wrecking than bots armed with stunners or worse. Had she varied her route enough? She’d kinda doubled back, curved to the north from her eastward trajectory away from her starting point. Was that too predictable?

  The pilaar copse was situated about halfway back to the home base, and she hoped the hunters would go further north and east, closer to the swamps, where there were far more hiding places among the hollowed-out trunks of fallen trees.

  Her need to move, to keep going, was nearly overwhelming, and she had to force herself to stay put until she had a better idea of where the others were. They would fan out, or that was her theory. But she suspected they’d form little squads too. They’d certainly been training long enough that this natural inclination to stick with the familiar would be ingrained. The squads would be little packs, in other words. Jeez, that was about thirty little packs.

  A sudden spike of fear nearly had her lurching off the branch, but she clung on.

  “You’re better than this,” Nuri mouthed to herself, digging deep for the confidence that should be there.

  Back when she’d been running for Vadith, she’d had her pack; she’d never felt this alone. This terrified of failure.

  If she failed at the winnowing … Nonsense, Fadhil had said he’d adopt her. He might be Vadith’s sworn enemy, but he’d come across as genuine every time she’d interacted with him. Sure, she might end up running for him too, but she’d have upped her game from the barrens.

  A buzzing started at the edge of her awareness, like a warm hand reaching out to envelop her. Nuri squeezed shut her eyes, breathed in. The heat spread from a small kernel in her chest, flowing through her veins until her teeth stopped chattering.

  All will be well.

  The reassurance was all-encompassing, Nuri let out a shuddering whimper, nearly overwhelmed by emotion. She blinked open her eyes. The presence faded, but its ghost lingered.

  Was this the Seed? Reaching out to her?

  A moment of wholeness.

  She wanted to distrust this feeling, perhaps a trick played on her by Stasja, even though logic said that Stasja was by now safe back home, hanging out with her friends in the shopping district, or doing whatever else it was that interested her.

  Or maybe it was Mei, or someone else like Katha, who didn’t bear her any ill will and wanted her to feel better about herself.

  Enough with the self-sabotage.

  Below her, someone cursed quietly.

  “Hush now,” another said.

  “Ugh. Ground is soggy.”

  “Then look for footprints. She won’t have gone out of the grounds.”

  Nuri’s pulse fluttered, a
nd she tensed against the branch, waiting.

  Now that her hearing was so attuned to her environment, she swore she could detect each soft footfall, the way the reed-grass fronds whispered as legs brushed against them.

  She must hold. Just a little longer.

  The waiting was an eternity, with her every impulse suggesting that she must flee, that she could make up revealing herself with her speed and agility.

  Yet she knew this entire exercise was also about guile and stealth. Not her greatest strengths, because she was always at least a hundred or more metres ahead of her pursuers. She didn’t fancy her chances against nearly thirty other squads though.

  A flutter of birds exploded into the air about twenty metres to her left, and Nuri bit back an exclamation. That meant the net had spread past her, so to speak, so she swung down to the lower boughs, waiting and watching to see whether there were any stragglers.

  A recruit was five paces to her left, thankfully with their back turned to her. Nuri froze, wishing she had F’Thr’s ability to change his skin to match his surroundings. Damn. She cast about. The entire forest was crawling with searchers.

  Silently, Nuri dropped to the ground, keeping low as she sped along the length of a fallen trunk. Right into a bush.

  Syrenita, her AR read. Nuri muted the helpful scroll of informing her of the plant’s properties. Not now.

  Her stomach cramped and her palms were damp, despite her wiping them on her coveralls. Five heartbeats, then Nuri took her chance, heading straight to a stand of pilaar saplings where she once again crouched, hardly daring to draw breath.

  A pair of human boys passed her. She didn’t know their names, though her AR flashed helpfully. Not now!

  Ugh. No matter how often she muted the damn thing, it kept popping up. Would she ever get used it? Her friends had never let on that the function bothered them.