by Chele Cooke
“Apologies, Miss,” he said with a nod and a charming smile Jack was sure he never afforded to anyone he knew.
Jack urged Hadley into the corner of the room, standing her against the wall. She looked puzzled. The room was larger than most of the private performances and there was nothing inside except Yao and a large double metal hoop laying on the ground. Jack had urged Yao to teach him but the few times he had tried to perform this particular feat, he’d ended up on his ass, sore from head to toe while Yao laughed far more than necessary.
The hoops were as large as a man stretching in every direction. Jack thought it looked like narrow train tracks that had rolled up from heat until they joined end to end.
“What is he…”
“Just watch,” Jack murmured.
Yao placed his foot on the higher hoop and brought it to standing, tall enough for him to stand comfortably in the centre. He stretched up and grasped one of the bars, pulling himself up as a child would drag themselves into a climbing frame.
His shoulders rocked and pulled, his legs pushed and directed, urging the wheel into a gentle, swaying rock. Back and forth, back and forth, he gave a hard shove with one foot and sent the wheel rolling. He was upside down and then upright again, the wheel arcing in a wide circle in the centre of the room. Jack glanced at Hadley, who gazed on with rapt attention. Her eyes were not quite as wide as they had been when she saw swords disappear down throats, they were critical and curious, waiting for more. The smile that flickered and threatened to break at any second, however, told him she was enjoying the wait.
Yao gathered speed, rolling around and around, leaning further into the centre of the circle his wheel created. Soon one track was off the ground, a spun penny rolling around on its edges until it lay flat on a tabletop. At the last moment, before he crashed onto the metal, Yao forced the wheel upright and began to spin again, this time hand over hand, and he hung in the centre of the wheel spinning around him. When he did the same again, hanging from his feet, even Jack got dizzy.
“How does he not throw up?” Hadley asked after they’d thanked Yao and stepped back out onto the walkway.
Admittedly, Hadley now looked a little green, though she had assured Yao and Jack that the display was wonderful. She walked slower and tucked her arms tight in against her sides.
“No idea,” Jack said, frowning. “But, are you alright?”
“Actually, I feel a bit dizzy now and my stomach is turning like that wheel.”
Jack glanced both ways down the walkway. There were people milling in the corridors waiting to get into private performances. A long line of men were waiting to get into one of the coochie rooms. Even though there were people everywhere, no one was paying them any mind and he knew his way through the ship well enough to avoid detection if he wanted.
“Come on, I’ll get you a drink.”
“No, I can’t,” Hadley insisted. “I promised.”
“Just water, I promise, and some ginger to settle your stomach.”
Hadley nodded, though she didn’t seem entirely certain about her decision. Going to a hatch in the floor, Jack flipped it open and helped her onto the ladder. She descended quickly with sure hands and feet until he heard a small thump of her jumping off. He followed her down and closed the hatch above them. It was the quickest way into the back areas of the ship and close to his quarters to boot.
“Western?”
Jack barely had two feet on the floor before his name slid from the darkness. Groaning under his breath, he turned in the direction of the voice and moved in front of Hadley.
“Evening, Mr. Hatliffe.”
Cole Hatliffe stepped forward, his small dark eyes narrowed in suspicion as he peered over Jack’s shoulder at Hadley.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his voice as sharp as his gaze.
Jack glanced over his shoulder at Hadley and stepped further in front of her.
“This guest was feeling ill, Mr. Hatliffe,” he said politely. “I was just taking her to get some ginger and water from my quarters.”
The ringmaster let out a brittle laugh and raised an eyebrow. He waved a hand at Hadley.
“Whatever you planned to ‘give her’ in your quarters is none of my concern,” he snarled. “Nor that of your girlfriend, I’m sure. However, what is my concern is whether you know the rules of groundlings in the back of the ship. Not to mention that you are supposed to be performing a job for me, are you not?”
Jack didn’t like Hatliffe’s tone, nor the insinuation that he was taking Hadley back to his quarters for any reason other than the one he’d given. However, he knew better than to argue with the Ringmaster and owner of the ship. He bowed his head respectfully.
“Sorry, sir,” he grumbled. “I’ll get back on it.”
“See that you do and don’t disobey me again, whether it is your head or your trousers making the decision.”
Cole Hatliffe stormed past them, barely giving Jack or Hadley another look. Jack grimaced as he turned to her and gave her an apologetic smile.
Even in the gloom of the back corridors, he could see that her cheeks were pink as she stared at the ground, her eyes wide and her lips pursed. He stepped closer to her but she was too quick, stepping back and wrapping her arms around her stomach.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Here, quick, I’ll grab the ginger, and take you to the big top. You can see the entire performance and hopefully feel a little better.”
“Thank you,” she said. His words did nothing to quell the warm blush of blood in her cheeks that Hatliffe’s suggestion had put there.
He wanted to stay with her but Hatliffe was right. He had a job to do and he should get back to it. If he didn’t, there might not be a cirque for him to show Hadley anymore.
The air felt too close within the ship. It was too warm, prickling against Lachlan’s skin and making him sweat. The floor swayed and rippled under his feet with every step he took. It was an old ship from the looks of things and it wouldn’t surprise him if the autograv system was close to the end of its life. He wondered if someone had forgotten to shut the system down once they’d landed, the autograv trying to stabilise itself against the gravity of the ground beneath them. Hadley knew more about those sorts of things, he’d never been a big fan of ships, but he was sure that was what had created the odd swaying beneath his feet, feeling like he was walking on the top of a rolling ocean, though he’d never seen an ocean, let alone tried to walk on one.
Lachlan wavered on his way over to the wall, leaning heavily against it. He unbuttoned his collar and tugged the material away from his skin, though the warm stuffy air did little to cool him down. He rolled up both his sleeves haphazardly to above his elbows, grimacing as the tight cuffs strained against his skin. He just needed a little break and maybe another drink to soothe his dry throat.
He’d only walked to the end of the bustling cargo bay to see what had gathered such a crowd. Hadley had still been in the fortune teller’s tent when he’d been served his lemonade, it wouldn’t hurt for him to venture a little further to see what had so many so enraptured.
Two poles were fixed from the floor to ceiling and a woman and two men were climbing with such alarming speed that at times it didn’t look as if they were touching the poles at all. Halfway up, one of the men leapt out, launching himself from one pole to the other. He swung around the second pole by only his hands. Before he’d even stopped, the woman leapt. Grasping the man by the ankles, she swung around beneath him and propelled herself upwards. The two men stretched out across the gap, one hand and one ankle on each pole as the woman came plummeting back towards the ground. They caught her wrists and spun her in a full summersault before launching her back up again. Lachlan didn’t realise how nervously he’d been sipping his lemonade until it was all gone.
When the three climbers took their bows, Lachlan continued through the ship with the crowd, eager to see the next spectacle. Like the people on the midway who juggled an
d fought with fire, these were the entertainments he could enjoy. These people were skilled, almost ridiculously so. He’d always been in good shape but he couldn’t imagine even beginning to do the things they made look easy.
It hadn’t been until he was yet another corridor, people all around him, that he remembered Hadley. He had been waiting for her and now he had no idea where on the ship he was, let alone where his sister would have gone.
He’d scolded himself as he paid for another glass of lemonade and drunk it in three quick mouthfuls. His sister was twenty-one years old, she could look after himself. He had a job to do and that would be easier if he wasn’t making sure Hadley saw all the attractions she wanted. He continued on his way, wandering the wide busy corridors, each leading to a different performance.
Pushing off the wall, Lachlan lurched into the crowd again. Everything was so beautiful here. His gaze darted to the different tents built into the side of the ship and he ran his fingers along the furry velvet and silken satin. His own clothes were wool and cotton, far too scratchy and uncomfortable compared to the lush materials under his fingers. He pulled the collar of his shirt away from his skin again. The unforgiving fabric was drab and ugly. He’d always felt more comfortable in muted clothes, but he wondered now whether it would be so bad to wear the fancy clothes rich people could afford, the types of clothes the cirque performers wore.
When he reached the end of the corridor he stepped into a circular room as tall as a bell tower. Every surface had been polished until they glowed silver under the soft lights. Around the room, large silk cushions had been scattered across the floor and people lay on their backs, curled up in pairs or sprawled out alone, all staring at the ceiling. Lachlan followed their gazes as he swayed around the edge of the room, keeping one hand on the wall for balance.
Two women were suspended from the ceiling, covered from neck to toes in skin-tight black satin. Across their bodies, glittering stars collected into the arms of galaxies over their curves and along their limbs. Each woman wound herself in crimson silk high above their watching audience. Twisting and twirling, their bodies were as supple as the material that held them aloft.
Though they hung from different ribbons they moved as one. They dangled from one ankle wound in silk before spinning themselves around like pennies, cocooning their bodies until they were slashes of stars amongst a universe of blood.
For a moment as long as an eternity they hung motionless wrapped in silk. Then, just as suddenly, they let themselves go. They spun and unwound, tumbling towards the floor at breakneck speed. Catching themselves inches above the faces of those lying on the cushions, the audience screamed and gasped. People covered their faces and rolled away. They thudded off the cushions in fright. Lachlan slipped and crashed to the floor in surprise. The women beamed and climbed up their silks, twisting and turning again.
Lachlan jolted as a hand came under his elbow and strong arms lifted him to his feet.
“They like that move,” the man with the strong arms said, laughing. “Usually gets a few screams.”
He glanced at the man. He had messy blond hair and mischief in every inch of his expression. Lachlan glanced up at the women again. They fluttered out from the silk-like flags, nothing but iron vice grips of their fists holding them aloft.
“Don’t they ever fall?” he asked.
“If they have, I’ve not seen it,” the man replied, gazing up with him.
For a moment they both watched. The two women curved together, winding around each other. While one grasped the silk, the other slid snake-like down her body until she hung, their feet hooked together. Grasping the silk, she swung back and forth, waving them until she could flip herself up, balanced on one foot in a loop of material.
“They’re so… so… bendy,” Lachlan murmured, his eyes wide.
The man laughed far too loudly for such a reverent audience and clapped Lachlan on the shoulder.
“You’ve not seen bendy until you’ve seen the triplets,” he claimed. “Your trousers will never be so tight.”
Lachlan felt the heat of a blush on his cheeks, far warmer than the air, and looked away.
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
He stumbled after the blond man, fingers trailing the shining metal of the round room. Glancing up at the women, he chewed on his lip. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and watch the women twist and turn but the man’s hand was on his elbow, pulling him along.
“You work here?”
“Name’s Jack,” he said.
Jack turned back and smiled, a face full of easy charm. He was a few years younger than Lachlan, perhaps, but his confidence was commanding and Lachlan smiled tentatively in return. They were in a narrow corridor now, no rooms built into the walls. The crowds were much thinner here and Lachlan was finally able to walk without tripping over himself and others. He swayed along behind Jack, who navigated his way through the ship with such ease that Lachlan wondered how long you had to be in a ship before you didn’t have to look where you were going. How long before you knew every nook and crevice? Before you could sweep out every rat and leave nothing unturned. The more he saw of the ship, the louder the questions of taking down the cirque became in his head.
Would it really be so bad if they were allowed to go on their way? They brought excitement and joy to people who saw it so little. The alcohol was a problem, it directly violated Coalition law after all, but weren’t the central planets doing that all the time? Plus, the lemonade had been better than he’d ever tasted. They didn’t even need the liquor, not really. He was sober as he’d ever been and he was enjoying himself more than he had in years, so why couldn’t others?
He brushed the thoughts away. For now, at least, he was having fun. It had been so long since he’d had fun. Every waking moment had been promised to work and to ensuring Hadley had a good future. Every night had been fretful, full of tossing and turning, dreams of people he could never catch up with, no matter how hard he ran. Blue eyes rimmed with black that looked so much like his own.
Lachlan shook his head sharply, sending the world spinning at an odd angle. He held his head in his hands, trying to right himself. Jack stopped and turned back.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, just…”
Jack laughed and slung his arm around his shoulder.
“It happens,” he explained, steering Lachlan around a corner and into an alcove.
“I was looking for Hads,” Lachlan grumbled suddenly. “Girl went and got herself lost.”
Tripping over towards the nearest wall, Lachlan leaned heavily on it, sliding down until he sat against the warm metal. He hunched his legs up to his chest and rested his forehead against his knees. He felt dizzy, blurry around the edges, and just a little bit nauseous. Jack slid down next to him, their hips pressed together. Where Lachlan balled himself tight, Jack spread lazily, his legs stretched out before him. He ruffled his blond hair and watched Lachlan.
“Hads,” he repeated. “Hadley, right? She your sister?”
Lachlan turned his head and glared at him.
“How d’you know that?” he slurred as he rubbed his hand across his mouth.
Jack chuckled.
“Was with her a little while ago. She said she lost her brother, wasn’t feeling too well.”
“I’m fine!” Lachlan insisted quickly.
“Not you, her,” Jack corrected, trying hard to hold back his laughter. “She wasn’t feeling well. Took her outside to get some air and then we were looking at some of the small attractions.”
Lachlan took a deep, steadying breath as he sat up straight.
“Where is she now?” he asked.
Jack waved his hand dismissively.
“My boss was getting antsy that I wasn’t doing my job. I left her in the big top.” He lifted a hand and checked a leather-strapped watch. “Show’s still on, she’s probably still there.”
Getting to his feet, Jack held a hand out to help Lachlan up. He looke
d at the hand suspiciously before taking it, allowing the man to haul him up onto his feet.
“I’ll take you to her.”
Lachlan nodded his agreement and stared at his feet as he tried to walk straight.
He remembered getting men to do this when they were suspected of a liquor run. Walk in a straight line, they told them. They could rarely do it and even when they tried, they usually had to watch their feet. He didn’t understand, he’d not drunk anything except lemonade. A thought came to him, but as he tried to grasp it and cling on, it flitted away as if it had never been there, leaving him mouthing the shape of words he couldn’t remember.
Lachlan turned in a circle, looking around in surprise. They were at back at the loading dock end of the ship. He hadn’t walked that far around, had he? He’d not been gone from the loading dock more than ten minutes, at least it felt that way.
Pausing behind a large group of people watching a man walk along a rope tied between the two mezzanine pathways, Lachlan frowned and glanced back to the mouth of the corridor they’d come out of.
“What d’you do here?” he asked, turning back and looking up at the tightrope walker.
“Little of this, little of that,” Jack replied absently.
“You said your boss was angry. What were you supposed to be doing tonight?”
Jack glanced over his shoulder and watched him thoughtfully for a moment. Unlike Lachlan, he didn’t need to watch his feet to know where he was going. He eased around the back of the crowd as certain as the sun, weaving around people as if he knew where each one would be standing.
“Looking out for trouble,” he said. “Soldiers scouting and the like.”
“I’m a soldier.” Lachlan didn’t even think about his admission. It didn’t seem particularly important, not when there were such wonderful things all around him. “Captain actually. People are impressed. Shouldn’t be a captain so young. Not without important parents.”
Jack chuckled.
“Your parents important then?”
“My parents are criminals!” Lachlan blurted.
