The Creative Fire: 1 (Ruby's Song)

by Brenda Cooper

  She nodded. “We recycle endlessly. But I couldn’t make metal from scratch if I had to.”

  “You may have it better than we do. Workers. You’ve got things to do, and a way to dream. You can hope to get better jobs.”

  “Or to be treated fairly by you or become more like you.”

  He leaned forward. “I know it sounds wrong. But we have less to dream of becoming.”

  “You have music and art and dance.”

  He smiled, looking pleased with her. “That’s why we support those.”

  “And now you dream of going home.”

  “Now we all dream of going home.”

  That was a good answer. She felt pleased with him, drawn to him. He’d made her think, and the thinking made her want to move, but she sat still and let him watch her. She felt undressed, as if this man was stripping her to bones, only what he was looking for was her soul instead of her body. In spite of that, she still wasn’t ready for his touch.

  He started again. “Now, be patient with me. I’m going to talk about things that might make you mad, but they weren’t my choices. So don’t get mad at me.”

  “Okay.” She stretched and fidgeted, almost pacing, thinking. Joel simply sat, letting her do half orbits around him.

  “People fought. Someday I can share the details of that. Who and why. The outcome was that the peacers were given more power and more people. When we left home there was one peacer to a hundred people. Now there is one to ten.”

  “But you just said that was part of the problem, reds with too much power.” She saw Nona’s face again, gone forever. Hugh’s now, as well. She felt raw, anger and loss powering some of her agitation. “It is, you know.”

  “The solution to one problem often makes new problems.”

  Unfair ones. “How do you know all this?”

  “All of our history is available to everyone in command.”

  “I want to read it all.”

  “If we win, I’ll have Ix give it to you.”

  “Really?”

  “Do you want me to tell you this story?”

  “Of course.” She stood on tiptoe and stretched up so her fingertips brushed the ceiling. “Then will you tell me what Ix’s job is?”

  He raised an eyebrow and then laughed. “I don’t have to wait for that. Ix’s job is to get us home safe. It’s that simple.”

  She furrowed her brow.

  “Simple and easy are not the same.”

  “All right.” She didn’t think that was all there was to Ix, but she had no way to prove it. She did some of the stretches KJ had taught her, leaking extra energy out on purpose, trying to ground herself and be in the moment. “So people fought.”

  “They did. Then we put up walls so we could retreat if we needed to. Not me. Not my father. Before that. Before we even got to the first of the planets we went to, and we went to five, in three star systems. There has been more than one fight since then as people tried to free themselves, each from the other. Almost always it has been the workers in the outer pods because those of us on the inside are the only ones who’ve had time to be oppressors.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “I’m simplifying it for you,” Joel said. “Can you please sit down?”

  She did. “Sorry. So Lila Red was just one of the people who fought one of the fights? But she wasn’t from the outer pods.”

  “According to Ix, there have always been people inside who want a different solution.”

  “Like you? What do you want?” She wanted to stand up again, to move, but she made herself stay as still as she could manage, though her hands wrung and twisted like live things.

  “It’s time,” he said. “We’re coming home. We’re almost there. I’m positive we’re going to need all of our strengths, and that includes all of you. That’s you and Daria and Onor and Marcelle and Conroy and a hundred others I can name.”

  She shivered a little that he knew so many names. Good.

  “And I intend to bring as many of them home alive as I can, and to help us all listen to each other. That’s what I want. Because we’re going to see the stars.”

  His tone of voice told her he was done. Everything about his story seemed true to her, a new idea on top of a new idea on top of a new idea. Her blood hummed with new ideas, new energy.

  “See the stars,” she repeated. She believed him. She believed him completely. She sat back and closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

  He let her stay there in silence for a long time. And then he said, “You’re welcome.” He waited a few more breaths and then said, “Will you sing for me?”

  She had promised him a song.

  Instead of any of the songs he had almost surely heard before, she chose a lullaby in its original version. Well, he had surely heard that, too. But never from her.

  He helped her sing the last verse, his voice untrained but decent.

  She pleaded thirst.

  He brought her wine and water and a small plate with three tiny, sweet snacks on it.

  “You are romancing me,” she told him.

  “You know that.”

  “I do.”

  “But you’re resisting. Some.”

  “I am.” She took a sip of the wine. It had been pressed from the leavings of the juicing process for golden orbfruit, its color light and its flavor sweet. She only knew this because Colin had served her something like it once. This quality wine didn’t exist at home, where homemade stills produced beverages with more bite and less flavor. She let a second sip rest on her tongue and fall down her throat like silk. “I am worth far more than any simple lover. I can bring you the gray levels. I can help you.” Her hands shook in her lap. “I can’t just go to your bed.” Ruby swallowed, waiting. She was afraid to pick up the glass. More wine might cost her the small bit of resolve she had left, or she might spill it and waste a rare drink for nothing.

  “Ever?” he asked. Bold. She liked that.

  “Until we’re equal.”

  He sat relaxed against the chair opposite her, his legs crossed casually in front of him. He watched her contemplatively, the way one might appraise a fine tool or a particularly good piece of music.

  After what seemed like a very long time, he leaned forward. “You are much braver than me.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, yes. You are.”

  “But you . . . you lead so many people. Our own leaders, like The Jackman, work for you.”

  “And you make people smile.”

  “I do.” She didn’t make it a question. It was true. “It’s a small thing. Without Fox, I would probably be dead now.” She winced, hearing her words sell her short. “But I fought to get his notice.” Her hand went to her chest, to the necklace beaded there. “I designed the sign that tells us apart.”

  “And you wrote the song that brings us together.”

  The conversation felt like a dance. “I can help you.” Her mouth felt dry and her throat thick. “I know I can. And I can learn. Truly, I learn very fast.”

  His voice was just barely over a whisper. “I’ve watched you learn.”

  She took a sip of wine.

  “I can help you, too,” he said. “If you’ve lost Fox . . .” He trailed it off, like a question, as if it would matter to him.

  “I have.”

  “I can help you, give you a way for people to hear you. I can give you a voice.” He licked his lips, his next words slightly more bitter. “If we win.”

  “I need to go now. Home. To use my voice. I need to talk to my people.”

  “Now?”

  “Soon.”

  “It’s not safe.”

  “If I ever let myself be afraid I might as well stop.”

  He bowed his head. “I understand.”

  Fox had been stronger than her when she met him, but she’d outgrown him, found he didn’t have passion for the same thing she did.

  She would not outgrow this man.

  He was going to run
the ship when they won, and he would be surrounded with things to learn and do, with choices that mattered. “Will you help me get home? I can help us win. I’ve thought about it. I can go to them, to all the pods, and I can bring messages from you, and I can sing my songs, and I can give them heart. It will help them fight. I can also bring any weapons or knowledge you want them to have.”

  “I don’t want to put you in that much danger.”

  “You will be in an equal amount.”

  “So then we are equal.”

  “We are.”

  He stood up and extended his hand, and Ruby took it. His hand felt warm and dry and strong.

  The bedroom was bigger than any she’d seen on the ship. An intricately knotted hanging on the wall added texture and softness, and the bedspread looked handmade. When she leaned down to take a closer look, she saw that it had been decorated with colorful fabric renditions of birds.

  Joel dimmed the lights and slowly stripped her clothes from her. He took her two hands and kept his arms a little stiff, keeping distance between them, simply looking at her for what felt like a very long time. The heat in his hands and his gaze warmed her, even naked. Eventually, she couldn’t stand simply being looked at. She pushed his arms to his sides, with effort, and stripped his shirt from him.

  When he pulled her to him for a kiss, she tasted the fine wine.

  She pushed him backward onto the bed and gave a little leap so she straddled him, leaning down to continue the kiss.

  55: Partings

  Ruby woke to the memory of Joel’s body, taller and firmer and slightly more awkward than Fox’s. She lay still, afraid to move lest she forget where his knee had rested on her thigh, or between her thighs, or where his fingers had tightened against her nipples. If she lay still long enough, perhaps the ghost of him would stay in bed with her.

  There was a similarity between waking up after a night with Joel and after a night with Fox. Except for her naked body, and the memories of the man, the bed was empty.

  The table.

  The battle.

  Ruby flung the covers aside and went to the privy.

  A handwritten note had been attached to the mirror. “Good luck, little gray. I’ll find you. Soon.” Attached to the note was a chain fashioned of metal loops, and on each loop, there were four tiny beads. One gray, one blue, one red, and one green. She picked it up in wonderment. Where could he have found such a thing? It could be a man’s necklace, so maybe it was something he had. Nevertheless, she slid it over her head and put the note into her pocket.

  Ruby expected it might be awhile before she saw Joel again. But she was already looking forward to it.

  She stepped into the shower. Water poured over her head. She’d find someone to help her go home. Give her people heart. Maybe Ani would still be around and she’d have something pretty to wear. The cascade of warm water stopped long before she felt ready.

  She dressed in a clean blue uniform that had been laid out for her, silently thanking Joel. There was no comb, so she used her fingers again.

  She opened the bedroom door to find Onor waiting in the living room.

  Her face flushed hot, and she stopped dead, swallowing. He made her think of Dayn. She didn’t want a keeper. Ever. Again.

  Not even if it was Onor.

  Onor handed her a cup of stim.

  She took it, angry and sheepish at once, looking down at the steaming liquid instead of meeting his eyes. She knew what she’d see in them. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  His voice shook. “For what, exactly? I need to know.”

  “That you’re standing here right now.”

  He put a hand out and touched her cheek. She looked up then and saw the pain she had expected in his eyes.

  “You will always be one of my two best friends.” The words sounded inadequate even as they left her lips. She took his hand in one of her stim-warmed hands. “Always.”

  His voice shook a bit as he said, “We need to go. There’s a status meeting every half hour now, and the next one will be soon.”

  He turned for the door.

  “How is the battle going? Are they telling you anything?”

  He blinked and frowned, as if resetting his thoughts. His demeanor didn’t look better for it. “There’s a thousand dead. Almost all of us. We hold the same territory that we did, nothing more. All of our own level, except lockup and a bit around that, and a few corridors and offices on the logistics level. We’re not winning.”

  “Yet.” She could help. “I need to go home.”

  Onor glanced back at the bedroom door, as if shaming her with her dalliance.

  “We need him,” she whispered.

  “I don’t.”

  She had seen the way Onor looked at Joel, the respect in his eyes. But Joel would have to regain that. “All right. I need him, and you need me. And right now, we need to get to gray. Where’s Ani?”

  “Do you need her, too?”

  She let out a long sigh. “Onor. I will always love you. I love you now. I loved you when we were seven. But you cannot be everything to me.”

  She expected him to head for the door, but he held his ground. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “So do I.” She leaned toward him, offering a hug or a kiss on the cheek or some other thing, but he stiffened and pulled away.

  Damn. She’d meant what she said, that she’d always need him.

  But there had been magic between her and Joel. Not just sex, not even just during sex. There was power, and with that, she could help bring her people home safely.

  She could keep her promise to Nona.

  The door beside her burst open and a red glanced at them and barreled past, heading for the bedroom she’d just left.

  Damned good thing Joel was already gone.

  Onor grabbed her arm and they threaded through two more reds and out of Joel’s quarters.

  Onor’s stunner filled his hand. He pointed it behind them and shot, the sound a rush of deadly softness.

  Someone fell. Someone else screamed.

  Footsteps started after them.

  Onor jerked her left. Pain shot up her arm. “Run!”

  She ran. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, and they came to a two-way choice. “Which way?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Guess.”

  She chose the right turn, and then another, and then a left. They slowed to a walk, their raspy breath too loud. Hopefully no one would stop them.

  “We need to go out,” she said. “Back home.”

  “The trains aren’t working.”

  “We can walk.” Her feet were already sore from the long walk here the day before.

  It took three hours of walking to find one of the flexible tunnels that led between levels and pods. She’d learned to read the markings on the walls well enough to tell it led outward, to logistics, but not well enough to tell which pod it led to. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again she realized Onor was standing and waiting for her to make up her mind. She was leading again.

  This was why he couldn’t be everything to her. He needed someone to follow. She stepped through the opening and motioned Onor in, closing the hatch behind them. The tunnel sensed them, leaving lights on for them, pulsing slowly in the right direction.

  “Be careful.” She started to whistle softly as a way to fill the space with something happier than her fears. With luck, they could slip through and find a path like the one Fox had led her through when he first rescued her. She had lost all sense of location. The corridor felt longer than she expected. Maybe she was just tired. If only she had a way to call The Jackman to her.

  KJ had immediate person-to-person communication. She’d seen it the day she and Ani had followed him through the walls.

  She whispered, “Ix?”

  No answer.

  She hissed louder. “Ix!”

  No answer. Did it hear her in this corridor, or was it ignoring her, or was it helping her by pretending not to he
ar her?

  With all she’d learned, she didn’t know anything.

  As soon as they cracked the hatch on the other end of the tunnel, she wished she hadn’t. A couple hurrying down the corridor heard the soft wind of opening and turned to spot them.

  She had never seen the people before, and they didn’t seem to recognize her either.

  She turned the other way, hiding her face from the strangers. It should be okay. She and Onor were wearing blue, and while they had the absurd red stunners on their waists, the Fire had been full of mixed uniforms the day the sky fell. Surely a long fight like this would cause the same thing.

  They came to a T-shaped choice at the end of the tunnel. Boot steps echoed, the sound hard to locate from where she stood. She peered around the corner, hoping that whoever wore the boots was walking away.

  People converged from both sides. Sylva led the closest group.

  She turned and bumped into Onor. “Trouble,” she whispered. “Walk the other way.”

  “Can we get back to the tunnel?”

  “I’m not leading them back to Joel.” Or giving away the room with the table. They needed that advantage. She walked close to the wall, leaning close to Onor and talking, trying to look like she belonged here. Maybe Sylva would keep going straight and wouldn’t turn to see her. Maybe she wouldn’t recognize her.

  “He’d want you to.” Onor hissed at her. “He’d want you safe.”

  “I won’t risk him.” She listened, heard footsteps turn behind her. Damn. Running would get her stunned, and she wanted her wits. She should surrender and then find a way to get free. “At the next opportunity, turn away from me.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You have to tell people I’ve been caught. Tell everyone.”

  “You haven’t been caught.”

  The footsteps behind her hadn’t sped up. She couldn’t speed up and pull away. At least not until Onor was safe. “You have to stay free and tell people who has me.”

  “Who?”

  “Sylva. Remember it. Sylva. And stay safe.”

  They passed the place where they had come into this level. Good. At least Onor couldn’t go back that way now. She took more steps, and more. Finally, a branching corridor. “Go, now. Cross and find a place like we just left.”