Among The Stars

by Robin Banks

  “I do have a point. Without us, or at least the two of you, they couldn’t even get the animals off planet safely. So as long as we stick together, we’ll be fine. They will have to take us, and take us on our own terms. Or we could just run off and try to get our asses out of Hestia on our own.”

  Kolya shakes his head. “I cannot do that. The animals need me.”

  “Yes. So we need to keep it together, stick together, and at least get the fuck out of here together. Then we can review our situation and look at our options. But we sure as fuck don’t want to stay here, and if we run away the animals will suffer. And we may be running for nothing.” I turn to face Alya. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re panicking about. Nothing’s happened yet. This could be good for us. Hell, the state we’re in, it can’t get any worse. You’re always on about managing power. We’ve got a lot of power here and your fear is pissing it all away.”

  “My fear,” she growls. I’ve just made her furious. That’s better.

  “Your fear. You can try and lie to me, but at least don’t lie to yourself. You’re afraid and you’re allowing that to stop you thinking. I thought you were better than that. I thought we could count on you.”

  “Now you stop this,” rumbles Kolya.

  “No. If you don’t like what I’m saying, too bad. It’s true.”

  “It is not kind.”

  “Fuck kind. This is an emergency. Alya said as much. That’s about the only coherent thing she’s said.”

  “Kolya, leave him. The kid is right.” She bites her lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Ok. We need to stick together. We need to negotiate the best deal we can. Do you trust me?”

  “Are you thinking rationally?”

  “Yes!” she barks.

  “Then I trust you.” Tom and Kolya nod in agreement.

  “They will make us an offer. We don’t have to accept it. Let me do the talking. Back me up. Don’t sign anything. Don’t get into a fight with them. I am not sure what they’re going to do, but I have a few ideas. I know what I would do in their position, anyway. Pack your bags and put them in my ATR, just in case.” She nods to herself. “But I think the kid’s right. The animals are worthless without us, and they’re damn expensive. Our position is not desperate. We’ve got a good chance of making it out of this just fine. If not, at least we’ve got a chance to make it out of here. But I still want the option to bug out if shit gets ugly, because I don’t trust those fuckers. So get yourselves packed and loaded. Like, now.”

  We rush to our bunks to get our stuff. It takes me no time to get sorted out. Apart from my guitar and the sound system, which will have to stay behind, most of what I own fits in my bag. It’s just as well that my packing is easy, because I have to help Tom out with his. Dude’s got a load of shit and he seems to think he can take it all. When he starts to take tapestries off the walls, I realize I have to stop him because he’s not going to stop himself.

  “Tom, this is an emergency bailout, not a house move. And we just don’t have room for all your crap.”

  “It’s not crap!”

  “We still don’t have room for it. Four of us and a dog in Alya’s ATR? Give it up. It’s gone.”

  He looks almost tearful for a moment, then he sucks it up.

  Kolya, on the other hand, has nothing but a violin case and a bag not much bigger than mine.

  “That’s it?” splutters Tom. “You’ve been here a couple of decades and that’s all you’ve got?”

  He shrugs. “Just things. I need them, I use them. Now I go, someone else can use them.”

  I think I kinda get it. Tom obviously doesn’t, but he keeps quiet about it.

  We stash our stuff in Alya’s ATR and go to the stables to wait for news. It’s warmer there.

  Alya is twitchy as hell. She can’t pace around because of the mud, so she’s bouncing on the spot. “I do wish they hurried this up.”

  I try to smile at her. I’m not very successful. “Gives you time to think of a strategy, though.”

  “If I think much more, I’m going to wind myself up again and then you’ll take another pop at me. I didn’t enjoy it the first time.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Nah, it was needed. But now I just want to get the fuck on with it.”

  We wait so long that I start to wonder whether we’ll have to do the animals before finding out if it’s still our job, when the stable door opens and a man walks in. I’ve never seen him before, but when he looks at Alya I know him. I know what he is. I’ve seen that expression worn by dozens of faces. I’m up and standing between him and Alya while everyone else is still working out what’s happening.

  I’ve not felt like this in ages. If I had claws and fangs they would be coming out, but I don’t. I know I’m going to die here, clawless, fangless, and powerless, but I don’t care. That thing isn’t getting anywhere near Alya without going through me first. If I lose, which I will, I’m going to go down tasting its blood.

  Alya gets up behind me and stretches up to put a hand on my shoulder. That snaps me out of whatever hole in my brain I fell into. I remember that I’m not a kid anymore, that I’m big and strong enough to handle this, that at least I have a chance. But a sick dread still fills my stomach.

  Tom comes to stand next to me. I don’t know if he sees what I see, but he’s my brother and he trusts me so he’s braced for impact, too. Kolya stands next to Alya. For the first time ever I realize how big a guy he is. He’s always so relaxed and gentle that I’d overlooked the fact that he’s also fucking built. Standing straight and rigid next to tiny Alya now, he looks as hard as a mountain and about as likely to back down. With them besides me, my heart decides that it doesn’t need to beat its way out of my chest, my vision clears, and I can almost think again. I still feel my missing claws and fangs, though.

  The guy hasn’t moved from the doorway. My reaction seemed to surprise him at first, then amuse him. He took a quick scan at the three of us and then went right back to staring at Alya as if he were debating whether to eat her, fuck her, or do both in no particular order.

  When none of us says anything, his face splits into a grin. “Well, it’s nice to see you, too.”

  Alya’s voice is eerily level. “Isn’t it just.”

  “No time for catching up now, I’m afraid. I’ve been sent to ask you to attend a meeting. Urgently.”

  “Where?”

  “Big top.”

  “We’ll be there in five.”

  He tilts his head and leers. “I was looking forward to escorting you.”

  “Undoubtedly. But I think I already have all the escorts I need. Don’t you?”

  He chortles and walks out. As soon as he’s out of sight, Tom turns to me. “What the fuck?” he hisses. “I thought you were going to go for him for a moment.”

  “If he came any closer, I would have.”

  “Are you going to tell me what is going on?”

  “Did you not see that?”

  “See what?”

  “See how he looked.”

  “Like a scrawny, dirty guy who’s bad at boxing? Like his face got smashed up a few times and not put back together properly?”

  “Shit. You really didn’t see it.”

  “For fuck’s sake, are you going to tell me what I didn’t see?”

  “Remember Supervisor Jones? Before he got caught out?”

  Tom cringes. “Of course I do. But this guy looks nothing like him.”

  “No. Not how he looks. How he looks at Alya. Same expression, different face.”

  Tom rocks back on his heels. “Well, fuck.” He turns to Alya. “Ok. I get it. What do we do now?”

  Alya’s just staring at us, clearly confused.

  I nod at her. “It’s ok. We get it now. Bad guy. Very bad guy. Now what?”

  She shakes herself off. “Ok. Wow. You kids never cease to amaze me. Now we go to that meeting. Don’t sign anything. Let me do the talking, unless I start to lose it again, then please help.” She
closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “This is going from bad to worse, and all too quickly.”

  “He’s not going to hurt you,” I tell her.

  She snaps her eyes open. “What?”

  “He’s not. I won’t let him.”

  “You don’t even know him.”

  “I don’t care. He’s not coming near you.”

  I’ve no idea where any of this is coming from, because inside me all I can hear is a child screaming in terror. But I’m big now. I’m going to stand and fight. Nothing like that is going to touch me or mine. Not without killing me first, anyway.

  Alya nearly smiles at me. “Kid, you’re alright. Let’s get this over with.”

  As we’re going through the stable door, Alya up ahead, Kolya slaps me on the back so hard that I nearly fall over.

  “You are a good boy. You both are.”

  “What?”

  “You stand up for your friend.”

  “What? Nothing else I could do.”

  He slaps me on the back again. “See? Good boy. You make a good man.”

  When we get to the big top, everyone’s already there, sitting in the grandstand. Even now, in the middle of this shitstorm, the artists and the few boys left are sitting separately. It’s nice to know that our people still have the energy to be assholes. We sit together in the back row. The man who came to summon us is sitting on a ringside chair. When he sees Alya, he licks his lips. He fucking licks his fucking lips. My instincts are screaming at me. Half of me wants to pick Alya up, take off running, and not stop until I fall over, and the other half of me wants to put a bag over his head and smash him with a blunt tool until he’s soup. I guess that’s not allowed, unless he gives me just cause.

  I can’t believe how cool Alya is, sitting next to me perfectly composed. She’s acting as if he wasn’t bothering her in the least. I’m finding it hard as hell to keep myself in my seat and the guy isn’t even aiming at me.

  Aside from the creepy guy, there are twelve other strangers in here. Ten are clearly boys: not only they are all wearing matching coveralls with their circus logo printed on the chest, but they all have the bodies and postures of people used to long hours of hard physical graft. Unlike our boys, though, they look ominous as hell. Even slouching on the ringside seats, chatting amongst themselves, they look ready to get up at a moment’s notice and wreck the place. I can’t imagine any of them smiling. If they ever did, I probably wouldn’t enjoy it.

  One of the other two guys is a twitchy, scrawny kid. He’s probably a bit older than us, but he’s acting way younger. He’s trying to organize some bundles of paper, flapping so much in the process that he’s making the job a lot harder than it ought to be.

  The other guy is our new owner. I can tell the moment I see him. I can also tell that I’m looking at an asshole, but it’s the kind of asshole I’ve dealt with before, so I’m not too fazed. Hell, the lot of them look like problems I’ve already dealt with. I need to remind myself that I don’t know them. I can’t go around assuming that I can predict their actions. Well, I could, but it doesn’t seem a safe choice.

  As soon as we’re all sitting down, the boss guy stands up. He’s clearly getting off on having us sitting there, looking at him, waiting for him to tell us our fate. I’d gotten so wound up by creepy guy that I’d forgotten about everything else. The swaggering jackhole in front of me reminds me that there’s plenty more at stake.

  When the boss guy had fed long enough on our anxiety, he turns to the twitchy guy and nods.

  Twitchy steps forward, nearly tripping over a chair in the process, and starts talking in a voice as hesitant as his expression.

  “So, we are here, so, this is Mr. Parker, many of you know him already, or know of him, he is here to explain to you the new developments.”

  Parker nods curtly at the guy, cutting him off. “Thank you, Noah,” he says in a voice so cold that it suggests a serious punishment is waiting down the line for the poor bastard.

  “You are all well aware that things here haven’t been going well. Your problems end now. We have purchased your show. We will have you out of this mess and touring within a week.”

  He waits to see people’s reactions and doesn’t look impressed. His eyes narrow and his jaw sets. What the hell did he expect, a standing ovation? We still don’t know what this means for us. He carries on, his tone colder.

  “Our work crew is here to commence pull-down and repairs immediately. This is Sean, our tentmaster.”

  Creepy guy steps up and smiles at us. I feel Alya going rigid next to me. I’d reach out to her, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s getting to her. Parker carries on.

  “As soon as we have recovered the equipment and vehicles and moved them to a safe area, we will set off touring as per your original route. We will honor the contracts of those who choose to remain. Your working conditions will be unaltered.”

  “What about the boys?” I whisper to Alya.

  “We’ll find out,” she whispers back.

  “Noah will hand out your new contracts. If you have any concerns, please come up to speak to us.”

  Twitchy hands the contracts out. As he’s working his way up the grandstand, it’s obvious that only the artists are getting any papers. The boys get missed out completely. Tom and I look at each other. This could be the end of it. I guess I should feel nervous, but I’m half relieved. We’ve spent weeks wondering what the hell was going to happen. In a few minutes, we’ll know one way or the other.

  By the time Twitchy reaches our seats, some of the artists have already signed and returned their contracts. Parker is shaking hands and slapping backs with a huge, predatory smile on his face. I guess we’re in, because Twitchy hands each of us a bundle of paper.

  When I get my copy, it’s already opened at the last page, which is titled ‘Summary of Conditions’. Even though my reading still sucks, I can read it fine. Some of the words are big, but most of it is easy enough. It lists our duties, what and when we get paid, hours of work, days off, sickness and severance pay (none), and refers to a procedure for dismissals. Then there is a long paragraph I can’t work out. It’s all big words like ‘heretofores’ and ‘stipulations’, and some guff that’s got to be foreign. I can’t even sound it out. Then, right at the bottom, is a space for my signature, thumb print, and today’s date. Parker already signed and thumbed his bit. There are two copies of that page. I guess we have to sign them both.

  I have a quick look at the rest of the contract and give up straightaway. It’s several pages in a much smaller print, full of heretofores and foreign guff. It’d take me hours to read it and even then I don’t think I’d understand it. I don’t get how the artist are already handing their contracts back, unless theirs are different. Maybe I really am slow. I look at my guys. Tom is scrolling through the pages with a blank expression. Kolya is staring straight ahead, the untouched contract on his lap.

  Alya has turned to the first page and is reading it slowly and carefully. By the time she starts the second page, all of the artists have signed and are shaking hands. She starts the third page as the artists start to leave. She just carries on reading as if she had all the time in the world. Her and Kolya make quite a picture: tiny Alya, totally focused on her reading, and massive Kolya, completely ignoring the same document. I take a long look at them, trying to etch the image in my memory. It’s not as if I have anything else to do.

  Tom has stopped reading too. I’m sure it’s just because he gave up. We catch each other’s eye and I’m so glad I’m here with him – I mean, I’m not glad that we’re here, but I’m glad we’re here together.

  Even being together may not be enough to keep us out of the shit. Everyone from our show has cleared off. It’s just the four of us against thirteen of them. If things go south the only one of them I’m sure wouldn’t be a challenge is Twitchy. Any of the boys could take me one-to-one. Three-to-one I wouldn’t stand a chance. Hopefully it won’t come to that,
but Parker is starting to look really pissed off. Alya could work that out if she took any notice of him, but she doesn’t. She seems to have completely forgotten everything in the world bar her contract. Parker clearing his throat doesn’t register. Creep has to call her name twice to attract her attention. When she finally deigns to look up, she seems completely unperturbed by the fact that they’re all staring at her.

  “Yes?”

  Creep smirks. “We’re waiting on you.”

  “Oh, sorry.” And she goes right back to reading.

  “Could you perhaps sign your contract, so we can all get on?”

  “Without reading it? No.”

  Alya and Creep stare at each other for a few moments, while Parker’s face gets redder and redder.

  Creep breaks eye contact first and smiles at Tom and I. “What about you, guys? Are you ready to sign?”

  I shrug. “Can’t. My reading’s no good.”

  Tom nods. “Yeah. Same.”

  “You’ll have to sign it if you want to stay.”

  I frown. “Could I take it home with me? Bring it back tomorrow?”

  That annoys Creep enough to make him drop his friendly mask. “It’s not schoolwork! It’s a contract! We want to start work tomorrow!”

  “I haven’t stopped working yet. It’s not a problem for me.”

  “It’s a problem for us!”

  “Oh. Sorry. Could you read it out to us? I’ll need help with the big words, though.”

  Creep is eyeballing me so hard I’m surprised he’s not rupturing something. I’ve been eyeballed by experts, though, so I’m not really that bothered. I just look right back at him with the most vacant expression I can summon. He writes us off and turns to Kolya.

  “What about you?”

  Kolya picks up the contract and waves it around in the air while he lets off a stream of something foreign. The only two words I can catch are “Anglisky” and one of those words I’m not allowed to repeat.

  Alya looks up at Sean, the very picture of serenity. “Nikolai doesn’t speak much English.”

  That’s when Parker’s mask comes down. The smile drops from his face, which is now an unhealthy-looking shade of purple, and he bellows “How the hell does he know what people want him to do, then?”