Star Stories - Beginnings (The Fixers of KarmaCorp Book 3)

by Faye, Audrey

  He bowed his head slightly. “The stars allow for one small, difficult possibility.”

  She listened as one of the oldest and hardest men in the galaxy laid out a plan that would use every mote of her Talent and every nanogram of her will. A birth buried in the sands of time. A hundred perilous adjustments to hold that act of flagrant disobedience out of history and memory and the energetic imprint of the universe.

  A task that the most prodigious Talent ever to grace KarmaCorp’s hallowed halls knew went far beyond what she should even attempt. But it would give her a chance, albeit a tiny one, to keep at least part of the sacred promise she had already made to what would one day grow inside her.

  The alternative was death.

  Her hands went to her belly. It no longer mattered what Regalis saw.

  His eyes darkened. “You must leave the threads of time undisturbed, Yesenia.”

  She would not let the tears fall. She would not. “I will do it exactly as you have said, but I will do it. I will bring her back.” No matter what it cost her as a mother.

  He nodded, very slowly. “I have not said all. Listen to me now, and listen well.”

  Nothing in her wanted to keep listening—but she would not risk her daughter’s life because she was weak.

  Regalis Marsden’s eyes were hard, black marbles. “If you save her, they must not know that she is important to you.”

  Her hands clutched at her belly, and somewhere deep inside, a warrior she had not even known existed rose in maternal rage. “That is not possible. She’s my daughter.”

  “It is not her lineage that will matter. It is whether or not she makes you vulnerable. If they can trace a crack from her to you, your efforts will have been entirely in vain.” If there had ever been humanity in his eyes, it wasn’t there any longer. “The stars are clear. It is either that, or death. You may choose.”

  Death allowed by StarReader edict. She knew that as well as she knew her own name. Regalis would never permit a child, even hers, to threaten the existence of all that they knew.

  He turned his chair to look out the window, his voice as remote as if they’d never met. “The threads of time must remain undisturbed.”

  She took a deep, strained breath, trying to keep a leash on her wild need to leap across the desk and strangle him where he sat. Regalis had an ego the size of a galaxy cluster, but he had also just entrusted her with knowledge that empowered her to blast the galaxy as they knew it into smithereens.

  Even in her fury, she understood the magnitude of that gift. With anyone else, the Head of the StarReaders would have dismissed the infinitesimally small possibility of threading a needle through time and risk and terrible odds and leaving the universe intact.

  No one else would have been given a choice.

  Regalis Marsden, paying off his debt.

  Tadpole School

  Her favorite time of year—and the one she most dreaded.

  Lucinda Coffey, or Bean to everyone on Stardust Prime, looked around the small meadow where she’d chosen to host the welcome reception for the incoming first-year trainees. She’d appreciate the view and the sunny warmth and the buzz of excitement later. Right now, she was looking for trouble.

  There always was some. No class of tadpoles ever landed entirely easily, and she was already quite certain this one wasn’t going to be an exception.

  There was just no way to uproot two dozen ten-year-olds from everything they’d ever known without some bumps. And that was maybe as it should be. Yanking around people’s lives wasn’t a responsibility she ever wanted to take lightly, and it had been her fingers doing much of the yanking for most of the children here. The world might blame Yesenia Mayes, or the vast organization behind her, but Bean knew better.

  For these kids, the buck stopped at her desk.

  “Stop fretting.” The Director’s shadow suddenly materialized beside her. “You haven’t lost one yet.”

  That was as close as Yesenia ever came to empathy. “There’s always a first time.” And if this was it, it would happen with the fierce blonde child currently trying to murder everything with her eyes.

  Bean sighed. She’d hoped that sunshine and ice cream would at least make a dent there. Maybe it was time to send Danelle over. The friendly Dancer was one of their best at helping tadpoles to settle, and young enough to remember her own arrival at trainee school more clearly than most. Maybe she could help defuse the bomb of fear that was Lakisha Drinkwater.

  Bean knew that most people wouldn’t read the young girl’s body language as fear. The child was smart and had obviously spent more than a few hours in dark mining tunnels facing down threats bigger than she was. But underneath the layers of pugnacious fury rode a child who was terrified right down to her molecules.

  Something Lucinda Coffey knew because she, too, had spent some time in dark tunnels—and had eventually been dragged out of them.

  She had not thanked the people who had done the dragging.

  Yesenia followed Bean’s gaze. “That’s the child Amelie Descol found?”

  The Singer who had died two years ago in one of the bigger screw-ups of KarmaCorp’s history. Bean’s fingers hadn’t been on those reins, at least not directly, but she had felt the reverberations. “Yes.”

  “She’s got enough attitude for six.”

  Bean knew the woman beside her well enough to hear beyond the official tone of disapproval. “I imagine she’ll be in your office a time or two.” Standing on the wildly colorful rug that gave lie to everything Yesenia Mayes insisted the world believe about who she was. It always astonished Bean that she was the only person on Stardust Prime who seemed to find that rug significant.

  People had eyes, but they didn’t generally use them.

  Yesenia, on the other hand, could see things that ordinary assistants couldn’t. Bean nodded her chin at their young blonde trainee and pitched her voice low enough to keep it out of passing ears. “Think I should send Danelle in?”

  “No.” The answer came instantly, followed by a pause as the Director took a second look.

  Bean held still as the air shifted in the strange way it did when the boss lady was using her unique blend of Talents. There was more than one reason people trembled on her rug.

  “No.” The same answer, but with more depth this time—and some unexpected notes of surprise. “The energies are moving around her in interesting ways. Let them work.”

  Bean pursed her lips. Yesenia’s job was to use KarmaCorp’s Talents in pursuit of universal good. That didn’t always translate into doing the best thing for individual ten-year-old girls.

  That was the job of assistants.

  “The Director is right,” said a voice behind them both. “Help comes for the child. She calls in what she needs. She has much power, that one.”

  Those were the kinds of mystical words that KarmaCorp very much tried to avoid. Talents were science, or at least it made people much more comfortable when that was the official party line. Bean wasn’t at all sure the party line was right, but she knew better than to spout anything different. The regal, elderly woman who had joined them was a different matter entirely, however. Mundi was clan matriarch of the Lightbodies, the family who grew all the food on Stardust Prime and had a finger in pretty much everything else on the planet, too. Bean smiled—Mundi was one of her favorite people on-planet or off, and if she was on the job, Lakisha Drinkwater was in excellent hands. “I’ll hold off on Danelle, then.”

  Mundi inclined her head, acknowledging the deftly delivered compliment. “The girl needs her first drink of root water. It comes.”

  Yesenia scowled. “You see things, old woman. Someone should have tested you for Talent long ago.”

  The woman who ran the Lightbody clan with an iron fist only snorted. “Many have tried, including the previous tenant in your job, Director. I’m only an old woman, nothing more.”

  One with a particular interest in this group of tadpoles. Bean looked around, scanning the group for M
undi’s great-granddaughter.

  “She’s over by the food.” Mundi seemed amused.

  Bean knew exactly how much pull a certain clan had on Stardust Prime, and food was one of their primary currencies. She was very glad they were on her side. “Thank you for providing such a lovely welcome buffet.” The food was truly wondrous—plump berries and fresh breads, and even some homemade ice cream.

  “It is our pleasure.” The old woman sounded as if she truly meant it. “The transplanting is difficult for these young ones, even those who were eager to come. Fertile soil will help them thrive.”

  The Lightbodies knew everything there was to know about good dirt. “I’ve seen more than one kid licking strawberry juice off their fingers.” Which on most inner-planet worlds was enough of a breach of manners for the average ten-year-old to refrain from doing it unless the temptation level ran awfully high.

  Bean hoped there were some strawberries left at the end so she could throw manners to the wind too.

  Mundi smiled and patted her arm. “There’s a bowl of them on your desk. A reward for a job well done.”

  A reward, and a message. The Lightbodies would be watching this particular group of tadpoles closely. That didn’t upset Bean at all. The energies of the universe sometimes leaned hard on trainees long before they were ready. A wall of tough gardeners standing in the way was a gift to every child on this field, even if it might sometimes make KarmaCorp business more difficult.

  Mundi winked, and then patted Yesenia’s arm as well. “I believe my grandson dropped off some strawberries for you too.”

  Bean hid a grin—if the boss lady had a weakness, garden-ripened fruit was absolutely it. Something Mundi knew and wielded ferociously when the occasion demanded it.

  Yesenia nodded her head graciously at Mundi. “Thank you.” She waved a hand in the general direction of the milling trainees. “I believe I’ll go circulate again and make sure all the new arrivals know who I am.”

  Mundi, who might just have the best poker face in the galaxy, smiled slightly. “It’s always good to begin as you mean to go on.”

  Yesenia’s left cheek twitched slightly. “Exactly.” She gave a last nod and walked off slowly, eyes on the meadow, a general planning her strategy, surveying her troops.

  “Come.” Mundi’s hand was on Bean’s shoulder. “Let’s go see if there are any tasty nibbles left to be had.”

  It was entirely tempting, but she wanted to keep an eye on ticking bombs and other worrisome elements. “I’ll stay here, thank you.”

  “You’ll come.” This time, the words brooked no argument. “The energies are moving more strongly around your fierce young charge. The view for what is coming will be better from there.”

  Bean blinked, and then stuck her hand in Mundi’s elbow. She knew better than to argue with an old woman who saw things.

  Especially when there were unhappy ten-year-olds involved.

  -o0o-

  There were trees. Big, horrifying skeletons with green, flapping bits of skin, just like in the horror vids she watched at Jingo’s when Mom and Pops weren’t paying attention. School showed the dumb nature vids where the trees were nice and friendly and people liked to climb their skeletons, but no kid from a digger rock believed that stuff.

  Kish looked around for someplace to hide. If the trees started rampaging and eating people, she didn’t want to be the first one to die. She was going back to Halkyn VII as fast as she could figure out how to get there, and she didn’t plan to arrive as a little container of ashes.

  The trees were spread out randomly in an area bigger than any room she’d ever seen, and the carpet was spiky green stuff she was pretty sure was grass. Every so often, the carpet would have a hole and colorful flowers poked up, reminding everyone that they were walking on dirt.

  She shivered and tried to tell herself that dirt wasn’t all that different from rock dust. Except for the billions of microbes and other tiny little monsters they’d learned about in science class.

  This dirt could eat you.

  There wasn’t a decent hiding spot anywhere that she could see. She should have packed her drill—this planet needed some tunnels, and it wouldn’t take her long to make one big enough to tuck away in. Pops had always said she was too damn small to make a decent miner. That was probably why he’d agreed to send her off on this crazy trip.

  Not that the KarmaCorp people had given anyone much choice. They’d just kept talking about how special her singing was, and Federation laws, and the Very Bad Things that would happen if she didn’t leave with them. Plus they’d promised that she’d get a really good education, better than anyone on Halkyn VII had probably ever seen. Which hadn’t impressed Kish any, but it had swayed Mom and Pops.

  They hadn’t looked too sad when she left. They were used to losing kids, except it was usually a mining tunnel that ate them.

  Maybe if she got eaten by a really big tree, they’d feel bad for making her come.

  Kish scrunched sideways, trying to hide in the shadows of the one small piece of polymer wall she’d found. Her eyes relaxed in the relative darkness. This planet was way too bright—someone needed to dial down the fake sunshine a whole bunch.

  Her shoulders shifted inside the strange new skinsuit the Seeker lady had made her wear on the shuttle. The one that said she was a KarmaCorp trainee, right on the pocket underneath her name. As soon as she could find a needle, she was picking out most of the letters. Nobody called her Lakisha unless they were really mad.

  Then again, she was pretty good at making people get that way, so maybe she should just leave the fancy red letters the way they were.

  Kish took a careful breath. The air here smelled weird, full of tree breath and slimy things. Her science teacher said tree breath was good for them, but she preferred her air full of rock dust and the smell of sweaty socks. Only inner-planet wimps needed their air all clean and pretty.

  She looked around in disgust. Probably all the students here were from inner planets. Most of them didn’t even look smart enough to be scared of the trees.

  One of the greeter people who were trying to make them all feel welcome glanced her way, and then frowned and headed over. Kish stood her ground, even though her legs were shaking. If you ran, the trees could see you easier.

  “Hello, sweetheart.” The lady with the green eyes and the weird hair flashed a totally fake smile. “Why don’t you come and meet some of the other trainees? I’m sure you’ll feel much better if you make some new friends.”

  Kish tried to drill a hole through the lady’s face with the power of her eyes. “I feel just fine.”

  Green eyes blinked really fast. “I’m sure you do, dear. Would you like something to eat? There are some fresh strawberries from the garden—if you’ve never had those, they’re a real treat.”

  They ate things that grew in the dirt. Kish shuddered. If Mom and Pops knew that, maybe they wouldn’t have made her come.

  “You’re a Singer, aren’t you?” The welcome lady was looking a little sickly now. “I hear you have a beautiful voice. You’ll be a great asset to KarmaCorp and the important work we do in the galaxy.”

  She didn’t want to sing. She wanted to be a driller—or maybe a pilot, if she could talk her way into showing someone with a flitter how well she could fly. It was okay to be small if you were a pilot, and her hands were the best. Even Pops said so.

  Kish kept sliding her feet slowly away, hoping the annoying lady would get the hint and go try to feed someone else dirt food. She still had some ration bars in her bag—she’d eat those when she got back to her room.

  Her really big, really bright room. With a window that the trees could see in when they came to snatch her in the night.

  She looked around, desperate for a corner or some shadows or even a decent-sized rock.

  “Those are weird boots.”

  Kish spun around, fists already up. This might be an alien planet full of scary things she didn’t know how to deal with, but sh
e knew exactly what a bully sounded like and how to deal with one. When you were small, it was important to land the first punch—and to make it a good one.

  She had good hands for that, too.

  The kid behind her took one look at her fists and fled.

  Kish watched her run and kept the sneer off her face. Inner-planet wimp.

  “Are you hungry? My dad says that when my baby cousins are in a bad mood, they probably need to eat or sleep.”

  Kish turned toward the new voice and kept her fists up.

  This arrival didn’t look as easy to scare as the last one. Her brown eyes gazed calmly out of a friendly face covered in drawings that looked a little bit like some of the flowers, only less scary. Her hair was done up in some fancy rolls that belonged on a vid star or a queen, but her hands had some kind of dust on them. The name on her skinsuit said Tyra Lightbody.

  The girl glanced down at her chest. “Oh, that. Nobody calls me Tyra. I’m Tee.” She held up her palm in the way the inner planets used to greet each other. “Nice to meet you. Want half my sandwich?” She held out the plate in her other hand.

  Kish almost reached for it before she saw the contents. The bread looked almost normal, but there was green stuff in the sandwich. And something red and shiny and the color of blood. She stuffed her hands behind her back. “No, thanks.”

  Tee looked at her sandwich with confusion. “It’s really good, and I can tell that you’re hungry—your belly is being really loud.”

  As if on cue, Kish’s stomach let out another rumble. She swallowed and backed away. “I mostly eat ration bars.” At least those didn’t grow in the dirt.

  “Oh.” Comprehension dawned on the other girl’s face. “You must come from somewhere that doesn’t grow their own food, right?” She nodded over her shoulder. “Come on—there’s some stuff on the table that we brought specially for people like you until you get used to eating real food.”

  Kish could feel herself trying to get mad at the words, but that funny feeling in her belly that always seemed to know true things wasn’t listening to the words. It was looking into friendly brown eyes and seeing something important there. Tyra Lightbody might look funny with her fancy hair and the drawings on her face, but she sounded kind. And she knew where the special food was. Kish gulped and swallowed down her pride. “Can we not walk too close to the trees? Please?”