Sing Down the Stars

by Nerine Dorman

  “I doubted myself often enough.”

  “I’m sure you did. We all do that.” He allowed her to board first.

  The interior smelt of genuine leather, and when she ran her hands over the finely stitched upholstery, she could feel it was the real deal, dyed a rich burgundy. What wasn’t leather had been finished in a wealth of highly polished wood with an intricate grain that begged for Nuri to trace the whorls.

  “Walnut grown in the temperate regions of the Terran-type planet in the Tarazet system.”

  “You have a thing for quality.” Nuri settled into the seat, afraid her overalls might leave smudges.

  The door hissed shut and the car started moving, the engine no more than a quiet purr. Though the windows were near mirror-black from the outside, they allowed light into the vehicle perfectly well.

  “I know quality when I see it. Even when it needs a little polishing.” This Fadhil said with a grin.

  Nuri let out a bark of laughter. “And here I am.”

  “Yes, here you are. I am pleased. Now all we need to know is how you’re feeling about it.”

  “I’m … I’m all right with it.”

  “You’re more confident.”

  “I guess …”

  “You’re not that half-wild, frightened little girl in Alda’s office.”

  “I was not frightened.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, you were doing a magnificent job with the bravado, but you didn’t fool me. I’ll tell you what’s changed now though. You’ve got pride. You know your worth.”

  “Even if I’m space trash?” Nuri couldn’t help but quip.

  “Even the asteroids contain gold and precious metals. You just need to know how to reveal it.”

  Nuri grimaced. “Now you sound like one of those motivationals they make us watch between study sessions.”

  “Ah, you’re feisty. I approve. So, did they give you ice cream here at the facility?”

  “Sometimes. On rest days and birthdays. Vanilla, chocolate or siiberry.”

  He clapped his hands, his hard face transformed with joy. “Oh, my dear girl, you will be in for a treat then. We’re off to The Spires.”

  Nuri almost choked. “The Spires.”

  “What, you think there are any other kinds of Spires?”

  The Spires was an exclusive district at the heart of Calan City. Not even ordinary Citizens had clearance to pass through those gilded gates – The Spires was the territory of the upper echelons of the Merchant class and, of course, the cream of the Elders. Nuri felt dizzy even contemplating the privileges Fadhil Tien possessed.

  “Before your eyes pop out of your skull, I have clients who pay well for certain transactions to remain … discreet. Some might call me a thug, but as you can see, I’m a thug with refined tastes.” His laughter was joyful, belly deep.

  “Vadith must hate you.”

  “Yes, but that is very much a one-sided affair. He amuses me.”

  “Yet he touched you on your face when he sent us in.”

  “I admit, that was a sneaky move on his part. He’d diverted our attention and then struck where we did not expect him. There was nothing of value that he could take from me.”

  “Except the dragon pin.”

  For an instant, Fadhil’s composure slipped. “Aye, the pin.”

  “It meant a lot to you, didn’t it?”

  “That it did.”

  “Would you tell me about it?”

  “It was a gift from someone I love very much.”

  He turned his face towards the window, and Nuri spared a glance at the changing scenery. They’d ascended to one of the aerial ways; she hadn’t paid attention when the vehicle’s flight mode had kicked in. They were now half a kilometre above the sprawling north-western barrens, Nuri’s old home. She recalled all the times she’d lain on rooftops, watching the endless streams of airborne vehicles sliding like veins across the sky. Not once had she dreamt that she’d one day be sitting here, the one looking down.

  From above, the barrens was a crust of street patterns that looped into spirals, grids or rings depending on the hood. The insectile Taavi favoured concentric rings, and no one built within a hundred metres of any of their hives out of respect for Aread’s only native, quasi-sentient species. She hadn’t known there were four hives in the north-western barrens though, with another, smaller one starting right in the middle of where there’d been a land dispute and demolitions. No one but the Taavi would be building there now …

  “It must be strange to view this from afar for the first time,” Fadhil said. Like her, he’d shifted over for a better view out the window.

  “I’ve seen pics and vids, but this …” Nuri pressed her face against the glass.

  “Every year the barrens grow. It’s like a canker spreading out from the city.”

  “It’s people’s homes. Besides, Citizens keep reclaiming the districts near the city. We see refugees coming to the outskirts often.”

  “Gentrification can be heartless,” Fadhil agreed.

  “If you ask me, the city council uses the barrens to do all the hard work of expansion.”

  “That’s one way to look at it. It was never this big when I was a child. I grew up in the southern barrens.”

  This brought Nuri up short, and she glanced sharply at him. “You, a barrens crim? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Honest truth. Vadith and I ran in the same pack.”

  “Let me guess. There’s a very long story here that you’re not quite ready to tell?”

  “Perhaps, but ah, we’re entering the city proper. You may want to see this, dear Nuri. Any first visit to the beating heart of Calan City must be savoured.”

  Fadhil was right. The stream of vehicles joined into a larger flow, a dizzying mesh of cars, pods and flitters that followed no apparent reasoning. Nuri could only assume their own vehicle was being driven by an AI that was communicating directly with Fadhil via a link.

  The crystal towers she’d always viewed in the distance – gleaming during the day or shimmering with a wealth of holo-displays and lights at night – now became great canyons. It was difficult to appreciate the sheer mass of the structures that spun up dizzyingly, some bullet-shaped, others in bizarre lazy helixes. On various levels, the traffic created interconnecting threads, so that when she looked up, it was through an astoundingly orderly weave of vehicles.

  “How do they not crash into each other?”

  “The AIs are in a network. While accidents do sometimes happen, they are usually during unexpected, unplanned-for circumstances.”

  “That’s insane!”

  “No more insane than what you will eventually do.”

  Nuri twisted around to face him. “Everyone seems so sure of this. That I’ll be the avatar. Why?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but then shook his head. “It’s not for me to say. It’s merely conjecture at this point.”

  “What? You know something, something about me, don’t you?”

  Another slight shake of the head, and Fadhil’s expression became neutral. “Now is not the time. I will discuss my suspicions with you after the emergence.”

  “Even if I don’t bond with the star-jumper?”

  He sighed. “Even if you don’t bond. I promise.”

  A wild hope flared in her: he must know about her parents. If he came from the barrens himself, if he was connected to Vadith – the two of them must know something about her origins.

  “Vadith never told me the full story of where I was found.”

  “There wasn’t much to tell.”

  “You know about it?” Nuri was incredulous. How much of her history wasn’t he sharing?

  “I know what you’re thinking, but when you were brought to my attention after your little intrusion, I set my drones. Imagine my surprise when not even hours later you were caught infiltrating a high-security facility. A facility I’d once hoped to send my daughter to.”

  “Why not then?”

  Fadhil
paused, and then sighed. “I suppose I must come clean, Nuri – I have a vested interest in your success. When you bond with the star-jumper, I’ve one task to set you, a request really. I’d like you to find my daughter, Tianyi. Her mother left with her six months ago.”

  “Why?”

  “Her mother had her reasons. Foremost being that Tianyi was called. Just like you.”

  All Nuri’s outrage fled, and Fadhil did nothing to hide the raw pain in his eyes. It didn’t require a genius to figure out why Tianyi’s mother had not let her daughter take part in the programme.

  “She didn’t want Tianyi to stand for the emergence,” said Nuri.

  “You must understand, Mira loves our daughter with all her heart. She – perhaps rightfully – accused me of trying to use Tianyi to gain traction in further business dealings.”

  “Like you’d use me.”

  “Did I ever lie to you about my intentions?” he returned.

  Nuri swallowed back her indignation. “No.”

  “And, if you’re honest, you have a better deal now than if I’d let you stay with Vadith. Not that they’d have let you go back into the barrens once you’d broken into the facility – Alda and her ilk had plans to ship you off to one of the military training facilities on Zenith Station. They’d have happily seen you become an expendable drone, fighting other people’s battles.”

  Fadhil straightened as the vehicle slowed. “Ah, we are here. Come, let’s have something sweet to remove this bitterness from our tongues.”

  The doors hissed open, and Nuri slipped out, only to be stunned wordless. The Spires, as the name suggested, was situated high near the summits of a conglomerate of glass-sheathed structures, nearly two kilometres above the surface of the planet – this much she’d learnt during her lessons. They’d disembarked on a platform, one of many that jutted out from the sides of the buildings almost like terraced fungi that she’d seen growing on the older pilaar trees in the forest.

  The air was hazy here, and sicklewings sliced hither and thither above, their metallic, rasping cries nearly subsonic. The crescent-shaped parking area was full of an assortment of vehicles – luxury models she’d only ever seen in the advertisements, never up close. The people were … They were all beautiful, in the manner of the best of their assorted races.

  Nuri turned to Fadhil. “All things considered … Will it be safe for me to be out here? You know, with the fact that there’re a whole bunch who’d happily have me offed?”

  “You’re perfectly safe here. My people are inside. You won’t see them, but they’ll have their eyes on everyone and everything.”

  “I wasn’t safe in the facility.”

  “Trust me.” He placed a large hand on her shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “We’re perfectly safe in there.”

  It was cold, the wind crisp despite the force shields, and they hurried across the ceramic pavers and up the shallow stairs that led to the interior of The Parlour. It was a place she’d only ever seen in advertisements and film clips, all decked out in a vintage-Heran style with round edges and nearly every surface spilling interior illumination. The colours cycled rainbow bursts in hues of orange, red, violet, blue, turquoise, green, yellow and back to orange, and the air was sugar sweet, underpinned with a riot of competing scents.

  A long glass display counter put the wares on best display, dish after dish of ice creams such as Nuri couldn’t imagine on a good day. She breathed it all in.

  “Well?” Fadhil stood next to her, arms clasped behind his back while he regarded her with benevolent amusement.

  “It’s like something out of a dream.”

  “And now you get to have a taste of it.”

  The other patrons didn’t pay them much attention at first, and Nuri supposed her drab uniform with the facility insignia had gazes skipping past her. But her hearing was acute enough for her to catch the whispers.

  “It’s her. The mutt. The one who’s standing for the emergence.”

  “Ancestors! Look! But try not to stare.”

  “Is that the Fadhil Tien escorting her?” As if he were some star-grade actor.

  Nuri could only just look over the counter at the Heran woman who was serving. To give her some credit, her attitude suggested she was completely unconcerned about who or what Nuri was.

  “Can I help you?” Perhaps she blinked a trifle too fast, but her thin mouth pulled up in a bland smile.

  “Um, yes.” Nuri stared at the dishes before her, utterly clueless.

  Planetoids, Aldebaran Nugoush, Honeyed Kika Nut, Flaked Passifimi …

  “I can suggest today’s special,” the server said, indicating the screen behind her, where a bewildering concoction rotated in a spun-sugar glass. “Our theme is Interstellar Travel, so we have …” She went on to list a bunch of ingredients that meant absolutely nothing to Nuri.

  “Okay?” Nuri glanced up at Fadhil, who shrugged.

  “Anything you want,” he rumbled. “Just as long as you don’t make yourself sick in the car on the way back.”

  The server took that as a yes, and Fadhil added, “Make that two.” Then he gestured for Nuri. “Now we find ourselves a seat with a view.”

  Soft Revivalist jazz with a barrens funko beat played over the media system – not a combination Nuri had ever considered, but it worked despite the disparate styles. Halfway to their seats, a group of youngsters accosted them. They wanted photos and vids posing with Nuri.

  “Smile,” Fadhil told her just before he stepped back. “You’d better start getting used to the attention.”

  Photo after photo. Her lips ached from the unaccustomed effort of grinning.

  You did this on purpose, Nuri sent at Fadhil. She had no way of telling whether he had even a remote ability with psi-communications, and if he did infer what her glare meant, all he did was smile indulgently.

  “Are you nervous?” one young human girl asked.

  “Nervous about what?”

  “What happens if you bond with the alien ship.”

  “I’ve not given it much thought.” Truth be told, Nuri had avoided thinking about this as much as possible. If she examined the possibility too closely, the notion made her uncomfortable.

  “Is it true you’re an ex-crim?”

  “Who said I’m not still a crim?” Nuri grinned at the kid, who took a step back.

  Loads of nervous laughter followed and then an older teen asked, “Can you do psi stuff for us?”

  “Not on demand, no, unless you want me to accidentally break the lighting in this place.”

  Fadhil only took pity on her when the server was on her way to the table with their confections. He called her over, and Nuri sank gratefully into her seat.

  “Why did you do let them descend on me like a bunch of rats?”

  “You need to be seen. This was your first taste.”

  “I’m not a bloody celebrity.”

  “You are now.” He scooped the crumbly topping off his dessert. “Might as well get used to it.”

  For a short while, Nuri concentrated on the insane amount of sweetness before her. Everything was too much. This place that was so loud and filled with so many people. They were sitting in a transparent pod that extended from the flanks of the building. Beneath Nuri’s feet was a drop of many thousands of metres – she watched the traffic stop and start at one of the many intersections between her and the ground.

  After a while, Fadhil asked, “How was your ice cream?” as he pushed away his empty glass.

  Nuri had gotten about three quarters of the way through hers and couldn’t eat any more. She slid the remains across the table. “I’m very, very sweet. Full, also.”

  “I’m glad.” His smile trembled.

  “You miss her, don’t you?” Nuri asked.

  “With all my heart.”

  “I am not a replacement for your daughter.”

  “I know that.”

  “It’s kinda weird, though. I don’t have parents. I don’t even know how to respo
nd to this situation.”

  “You’re doing well.”

  “Really?” Nuri held her hands beneath the sanitiser dispenser on the table. The liquid dried quickly on her skin and smelt faintly of lemon. Or at least the aroma she associated with lemon.

  The silence between them stretched, and Nuri huffed a breath. “Fine. I’ll do it. That’s if I bond with the star-jumper.”

  Fadhil tensed and hope shone in his eyes. “Thank you.” He breathed those two small words.

  “But you’re going to have to make up for dropping me in the deep end with a raging mob of fans.”

  “The Chosen are legendary,” he said. “You’ve been isolated for so many months, you don’t realise that they run shows of the highlights every week. You have entire fan groups set up on the web.”

  Nuri’s face grew warm. “They broadcast us?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t remember signing for that.”

  “That clause is deeply buried in the contract, and they never show anything of your private lives. Just the group activities and some of the class interactions.”

  “And that … thing … with Stasja …?”

  “Ratings were through the roof.”

  Nuri sank back into the plush upholstery. “Oh, ancestors.”

  She’d known about the video clips of her running going live. In a way, she’d been perversely proud of them, that she was a legend among the runners for her speed and agility; that had been fine then, because they were such a comparatively small community. But the notion that she was the subject of an ongoing documentary – a city- if not planet-wide broadcast? There were no doubt ‘Team Nuri’ fans out there … and it kinda creeped her out. What did they see in her?

  “One day, when you’re among the stars –”

  “If,” corrected Nuri. “Nothing’s certain.”

  “I have faith in you; you should try to believe in yourself and your abilities. Especially since you’ve had contact with the nymph. Several times, in fact.”

  “Oh, now you’re privy to information even I don’t have?”

  “I’m not the master of secrets for nought, dear girl. How do you think I followed your progress?”

  “It was you who gave me access when those goons tried to off me?”