The credit chip dropped. “Oh.” Nuri tried to keep her expression neutral. “You …”
“Killed someone, yes. In anger. Because I tried to handle it all myself. I thought I was capable to fix things on my own.”
Nuri’s mouth became dry. “And they allowed you to still become a facilitator?”
“That’s why I’m not with this sector’s marines anymore.”
“We’re your penance,” she realised. Wow. He’d really fallen far, yet here he stood with hardly a frown creasing his forehead. As if he was fine with his lot in life.
“You can look at it that way,” he said, without any traces of bitterness. “I’m here because I want to make sure that more youngsters don’t end up with blood on their hands.”
“No offence, Raphel, but you’re hardly a warrior in shiny exo-armour.”
“I know. But I’m here and I’m on your side.”
“So, what are we going to do about this?” Nuri scuffed at the ground with her toe. “That’s a pretty story that you’ve told me, but I can’t see stories keeping me safe.”
“That’s true.” Raphel swiped a hand over his shaven scalp. Uncomfortably, perhaps?
Her AR pinged, the little red light in the corner of her vision flashing. Urgent then. A message from F’Thr.
It was rude to check messages while having a real-time conversation with someone, but Nuri indicated for the message to scroll.
* * *
F’Thr: There’s a bow that was checked out from the armoury, along with arrows. But they’ve covered up their tracks. Replaced it. No name. Tell Raphel.
* * *
Raphel inclined his head, a slight twist of amusement playing on his lips. Waiting for her.
“Sorry,” Nuri said.
“Message from your snooping friends?”
“You knew?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“I’ll forward you the message,” Nuri said, even as she did so.
Raphel’s eyes flickered briefly before he held her gaze. “Well, that certainly complicates things. Someone’s sloppy.”
“And if they hadn’t returned the weapons? Would you be impressed?”
“Perhaps.”
“This is not a game!”
“Everything’s a game, one way or another. Just sometimes the stakes are a lot higher than makes us comfortable.”
“It’s my life!”
“Yet you routinely take risks that no one else is willing to,” he said evenly. “And now you cry about some incompetent would-be assassins trying to stick you with pins.”
“Argh!” Nuri yelled. But he was right, now that he’d caused her to look at the situation from another perspective.
“You’re better than them, luv, whoever they are,” Raphel said.
“And you’re going to do something about the evidence?”
“Things will be taken care of. Discreetly.”
Nuri rolled her eyes. “So that there aren’t any inconvenient ripples, right?”
“You’re learning.” He flashed her another bright smile.
“Now, I believe if you hurry back, you’ll be in time for the last ten minutes of breakfast.”
“You’re dismissing me just like that?”
“What, do you want a marching band and pandors doused in glitter?”
“Not even fireworks?”
“Brat.”
14
“Again!” Katha barked.
They were sitting in the middle of the larger of the two fields, and although Nuri hadn’t been running around the track like a number of the other Chosen were, she may as well have been. Beads of perspiration tickled her temples as she focused on the pile of shiny-white river pebbles.
When Katha had instructed her to build a pillar of stones, she’d laughed and thought it easy. Except round pebbles didn’t like being stacked one on top of the other, and no one had told her how difficult it would be to maintain control of the ones she’d already stacked while she mentally reached for the next. Three had been all right. Four a bit of a stretch, but a dozen? And the way Katha smirked at her and jingled another handful of pebbles, he seemed intent on adding to her misery as soon as she’d mastered this task.
Her ordeal wasn’t helped by the fact that she’d been so ancestors-damned distracted since the wide game. Raphel had assured her that she and her squad were fine, that things were under control, but Nuri had absolutely no faith in the facilitators’ claims that they were taking all measures possible to weed out the would-be assassins. This had gone beyond the act of mere bullying. Someone wanted her dead.
The attempts weren’t just because she was an ex-crim and that the Merchanter and Military classes couldn’t bear their delightful scions rubbing shoulders with her; of that she was certain. While snooping, Mia had heard the whispers doing the rounds that with Nuri being called, her being the one to bond with the star-jumper was a foregone conclusion, and that the other families were only being kept on-board to fund the facility. The faction whose Chosen became avatar stood to gain financially, and incredibly so. It didn’t take much of a leap of the imagination to figure out that there were those who thought it better to remove the “foregone conclusion” before their investment was spoilt – even though Raphel had insisted there was no guarantee that Nuri would be the final choice, called or not.
And her squad all swore blind they hadn’t shared anything about her outside their tight-knit circle. She believed them.
This was a great big game of chance, and Nuri wasn’t sure she liked feeling that she was a mere pawn. The thing was, in her heart of hearts, Nuri harboured a growing sense that the thread of her fate was inescapably bound with whatever lay dreaming within its fragile cocoon of crystals in that hangar.
“Oi!” Katha punctuated his cry for Nuri’s attention by clapping his hands millimetres from her face. “Are you falling asleep?”
Nuri gave a little shriek and rocked back on her haunches. The little tower of stones – all three of them – clattered to the ground and rolled away from her. Her head felt as if someone had shoved a red-hot nail into the left of the centre of her forehead, and when she wiped at her itching left nostril with the back of her wrist, she found a scarlet smear.
Katha blinked at her. “A nosebleed is no excuse. Try again.”
“And if I rupture and bleed out here on the field?” Nuri gripped the short, trimmed grass to keep herself upright.
“You won’t.” The Heran bared his little teeth at her. It wasn’t quite a smile. “How do you expect to learn control if you can’t even complete this simple exercise? All psi-gifted Heran children can do this by the age of six. By your age, they can already balance two hundred of these little rocks end on end, without so much as breaking a sweat.”
“I’m not a Heran!” she snapped.
“No, but you’ve got enough power locked inside you to blow up one of those buildings if you’re not careful. Now focus!”
She wanted to scream at him that she couldn’t, that she was just space trash, a crim who ended up disappointing everyone she associated with, but the tension in Katha’s shoulders told her that he wouldn’t accept any excuses.
“We will stay out here until you balance six stones for five minutes. And, trust me, we can stay out here all night if we have to.”
“You’re being mean!”
“And you’re acting like the runt Vadith always said you were.”
“What?” Her world ran red at its edges, and her brow throbbed as she bit back a string of curses – Chosen weren’t supposed to swear, and especially not at their facilitators.
Katha’s teeth gleamed as he grinned at her. He was enjoying needling her and was expecting her to react. The mere thought that he might be privy to intelligence from Vadith made her shrivel inside. Then again, there was no telling how close-knit the Heran community was in Calan City. Now more than ever before, she wanted to put her days with the pack behind her, yet this past of hers kept dragging itself ou
t of its ditch to bite her on her butt.
With a savage twist on her emotions, Nuri glared at the pile of rocks before her. About a score of them began to rattle as she levelled her will on them. Mentally she built an image of what she wanted, one on top of the other, the pillar growing steadily.
Except the soft impact of an explosion happened to her right, and tiny particles, stinging like grains of sand on a windy stretch of barren land, slammed into her face. It took her a moment to realise she’d pulverised one of the stones with only the force of her will.
“Stack the stones, don’t destroy them,” Katha admonished.
Fighting the urge to glare at him, Nuri instead fixed her gaze on one of the pebbles, a slightly elongated one that stood out from the others. She imagined what it would feel like in her hand – smooth, slightly warm to the touch, heavy. The taste of the stone, slightly alkaline perhaps.
The pebble shivered, shifted a centimetre to its left.
Nuri inhaled deeply, conscious of how her muscles were pulled taut like the wires holding up an aerial, how it felt as if she was standing at the edge of a vast pool of fathomless water that she could draw upon for its coolness –
Where is this idea coming from?
She shoved aside her surprise at the weight of the presence and leant on its mass.
The pebble stood up like a finger, and she was able to balance the next atop it. So far, so good. Nuri tasted iron; her tongue was numb and achy where she’d bitten it, and she swallowed down bloody saliva. Three. Four.
Rapid blinking moved the sweat out of her eyes, and dimly she was aware that her head was throbbing as if in time to a massive drum.
Five.
The entire formation vibrated, and for a heartbeat she feared the pebbles would collapse again.
Hold.
Her chest felt as if a giant was squeezing it, and she drew a jagged breath.
Six.
Hold.
The great ocean of awareness flowed through her, bringing with it coolness, reassurance. Wordless reassurance and warmth.
Nuri blinked, nearly lost her grip on the stones.
Seven.
Hold.
Katha spoke, but she was too busy maintaining the pebbles’ formation to pay attention to his words. His voice was like an annoying mosquito.
Eight. Nine.
Hold.
Thrum, thrum, thrum, went the drums in her head.
Her awareness was centred on those nine stones, on the particular smooth surface and their crystalline grain that caught the light. The small imperfections, inclusions, where larger quartzite or a similar mineral had formed. Each stone was its own world, unique, magnificent in the greater universe. She could spend hours staring, drowning in the beauty of these objects – objects so easy to ignore or to be thrown aside. Why was it she’d never noticed this before?
“Nuri!” A hand clasped her shoulder, and the person shook her from her reverie.
“Huh?” She turned to Katha.
The little tower of pebbles clattered to the pile of their brethren, but she hardly noticed because she could see her pale face reflected in Katha’s massive eyes. Her own gaze was wide, startled.
“I think you may need to go to the clinic,” he said. “Just for a check-up. You’ve pushed yourself too hard.”
“I had to get it right!” Nuri mumbled through curiously numb lips.
It’d been late afternoon when she’d started the exercise but now the grounds were sunk in the hazy blue of twilight. Her breath misted before her face, and her limbs were chilled.
“You went on and on …” Katha said. “I didn’t want to bother you, but I fear now that you were entering a fugue state.”
“I did it, didn’t I?”
He nodded. “Oh, and then some. Your control was … impeccable. I’d quite safely say that you can up the number of stones to twenty the next time, but we’ll have to work on your responsiveness to external stimuli.”
Nuri allowed herself a grin. “I’m getting better, right?”
“Yes, but I think let’s get you scanned at the clinic, okay?” He made a dabbing motion with his finger under his nose slits.
Only then did she register the tickle. Nuri wiped her upper lip and was dismayed to see even more blood. “Is this going to happen every time?”
“It’s a standard physical response to those coming late into their psi. By all rights you should’ve had this training from a young age.” He took hold of her forearm and helped pull her to her feet.
The world spun about her disconcertingly. “Clinic. Right.”
She took a few steps, and the diminutive Heran remained right at her side. She couldn’t really lean on him while they walked, but he insisted that she place her hand on his shoulder.
“I hate that I’m feeling so awful.”
“You’re doing just fine, Nuri. Just fine.”
“Do you think I’m meant to bond with the star-jumper?” She debated whether she should tell him about the focus she’d achieved, that she suspected it may have been the star-jumper helping her.
“We’ll see,” was all the answer she received.
As they left the field, Nuri couldn’t help but glance about her, alert to anything or anyone out of the ordinary who might see her apparent weakness as an opportunity to strike again. Maybe it was better to wait and see about the star-jumper. If she could stay alive, that is.
* * *
Nuri was brushing her teeth when the icon for an important message flashed on the sidebar of her AR. Next to her, Mei cursed in Neo-Mandarin and put down the glass of water she’d been using to rinse her mouth.
Judging by the sudden quiet that descended on the rest of the girls’ bathroom, everyone else had received the same missive.
* * *
Meet in the assembly hall after breakfast, 08:00. Latecomers will be expelled with no provision for appeal.
* * *
“What?” Mei sputtered.
Nuri’s stomach dropped and rolled. “Sounds serious.”
“Guess we’d better hurry then.” Mei’s features grew pinched. “It’s already half-past seven.”
“Not much time for breakfast.” All of a sudden, Nuri wasn’t hungry. She couldn’t help but worry that this had to do with the attempt on her life. Nothing had happened during the week since the wide games, and she’d been so tired from her extra psi-instruction she’d barely had time to argue the point that between the facilitators and her squad, she was almost never alone. Even when she’d gone to use the toilet, she’d emerge from the stalls to find Mei conveniently washing her hands or Byron or F’Thr casually leaning against the wall outside. Everywhere she went, she had a shadow.
The dining hall was abuzz by the time she and Mei made their appearance. F’Thr and Byron had saved their usual spot at the rear near the door, with a space reserved on a bench so that Nuri could keep her back to the wall. They were good like that.
Since the wide games there’d only been whispers about her rich patron who’d bought into the programme at the last minute. Whispers of dirty money too, which made her cringe inwardly.
And a few more Chosen whose parents and sponsors had quietly withdrawn them from the programme.
The remaining Nasty Girls and their sidekicks made sure to sit at a table on the opposite end of the dining hall, but even from where Nuri was situated with her friends, she could feel the emanations of negativity rolling her way. And she didn’t need to have psi to notice the pointed glares she was receiving from others.
She was being tolerated at best, despised at worst, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
“Hey,” Byron said as she settled. “It’s porridge this morning. Terran-style oats with synth-honey and protein cubes.”
“Bleh,” said F’Thr, who barely looked up from his tablet.
As if on cue, the server bot hummed up and its silver dome irised open to reveal steaming bowls and mugs. “Aludran-blend coffee, extra strong. It is suggested that yo
u dilute with your preferred creamer,” the machine intoned.
“Black, please, no sweetener,” said Nuri.
“Gah! I don’t know how you can drink it like that!” Mei puckered up her mouth. “It’s like mud. With a little bit of water in it.”
“It’s an acquired taste.” Nuri flashed her a tight smile, not quite feeling the humour in her quip.
Byron passed their breakfast to them. “Well, here you go, my ladies. And squid.” He looked at their J’Veth friend.
F’Thr declined his meal. “Can’t eat.”
“Acknowledged,” said the bot. “It is suggested that you check in with medical if you are feeling unwell.”
“That’s if I’m still here,” he muttered.
Or at least Nuri thought that was what he’d said.
Their meal was a subdued affair after that. Byron was clearly scanning messages on his AR. How he managed to do that, Nuri couldn’t figure out. She couldn’t multitask like that yet.
Mei kept her head down so that her dark bangs obscured her face, eating small spoonfuls slowly.
The cereal settled like lumpy sludge in Nuri’s stomach, so she made as if to eat while she observed the dining hall.
Many of the other Chosen were just as out of sorts as she and her friends were. There was none of the usual activity, with people moving from table to table to chat. A number of recruits were hunched in tight groups, heads close together while they muttered to each other. Nuri didn’t want to think too hard. The occasional, venomous glances still swept her way – mostly from the Nasty Girls. Eventually Nuri gave up pretending to eat, and pushed her bowl to one side. Her coffee was still warm, but the bot had been right – this particular brew was far more bitter than she was accustomed to, and it did little good once it hit her stomach.
Mei soon nudged Nuri in the ribs. “Come, it’s time.”
“Already?” Nuri asked, her rebellious stomach churning at what awaited them.
F’Thr groaned. “I feel ill.”
“Not as ill as I do after that stuff they fed us,” Nuri said.
“No one held a blaster to your head forcing you to eat it,” Byron quipped.
“I don’t have the constitution of a pandor,” Nuri shot back.
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