I finally got up and washed. Moments later I heard a soft tapping at my door.
Go away, I thought
When I didn’t answer, they did go away. I had already made my decision about what I was going to do, and I didn’t need others trying to change my mind. Despite the odds, I was even more resolved to have it my way now. How dare they do this to me? How dare they?
When I felt ready, I ventured out into the building. The first person I wanted to find was Max. I found her in her room with Grace and that other kid, whatever his name was.
“Hi.” I waved from the doorway.
“JT!” Max shrieked, and bolted to her feet. Grace got up, too, and kicked the other kid to do the same.
“We were just on our way out,” Grace declared. “Good to see you up, JT. Max, we’ll talk about it more later.”
“Sure,” she replied, looking anxious for them to leave.
I nodded at the other kid as he and Grace slipped out of the room.
“What’s his name now?” I whispered to Max.
“Dante,” she replied.
“What were you guys talking about?”
“Nothing. Sit. Are you all right? Theylor said you got sick in Murat. He told us not to disturb you.”
“Was that you who knocked earlier?”
She smiled. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I just needed to apologize about the other cycle. Knowing you were here and I couldn’t talk to you — well, it was driving me crazy. Ketheria is your sisterand that is precious. I had no right to say what I did. It was horrible. Can you forgive me?”
“You don’t need to be forgiven, Max. I was the one who was acting like a malf — to everyone. I know that now, but that’s going to change — I promise. It’s just like you said: one more rotation and then we can do whatever we want. We can even leave the rings if you want. I’ll lead the way.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I assured her.
Max just stood there, smiling. “So, now what?”
“Let’s have some fun.”
A large furry knudnik with thick arms appeared at the door. It was a Garin, and they were only assigned to Trading Council members. “Queykay sent me to retrieve you. Your sister has requested you.”
I looked at Max and then back to the messenger. “Tell Queykay I’m sure the Council can deal with the Scion. Tell Ketheria I’ll come by later. Much later.”
I grabbed Max’s hand and pulled her out of the room as the Garin stepped aside. I really don’t think he knew what to do, but I didn’t care.
“You do not have permission to leave,” he challenged me.
I turned and faced him, Max’s hand firmly in mine. “This is not your fight. Are you going to stop me?” Max stepped next to me.
The Garin sucked the air through his teeth, and I adjusted the controls in my arm just in case.
“Well?” Max said.
He glared at us for another moment. “I must report this,” he spat, and then stormed off.
“You should get sick more often,” Max teased.
I could only smile. The fact was that my stomach had been doing backflips ever since I refused to go to Ketheria, and I was afraid to open my mouth in fear of what would come out.
Live with it, I told myself. That’s your new motto.
Typical of Max, she had already found a secret route into Murat. I followed her through one shortcut that was nothing more than a crack in a concrete barrier. The maze of trading chambers and living quarters was like second nature to her.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
I followed Max down a series of steps that ended in a small amphitheater carved into the foot of one of Murat’s superstructures. The building’s green glass bathed the entire courtyard in its reflection of a distant, dying sun. Max found a spot on the stone seats and settled into the eerie afterglow. I must admit, the effect did a pretty good job of masking the city’s decay.
“What are we doing here?” I whispered as we sat among other aliens, some of whom seemed to be sleeping.
“This is a special cycle on the Rings of Orbis. Not one that everyone celebrates, but quite a few do. Look up in the sky.”
Max pointed down ring and up about sixty degrees. I followed her finger to see what she was pointing at. “See it?” she said. “The rings. They spell OIO.”
In the sky, Orbis 1 and Orbis 3 were positioned next to each other, and Orbis 4, the ring we were on, ran up between them. It did spell OIO — well, kind of, anyway.
“The golden thing is that OIO works in any language. It’s really a symbol.”
“I always thought the central computer translated it for us.”
“Everyone gets the same translation. That’s one of the things that makes it so special. The alignment happens once every rotation.”
“What’s going to happen now?” I asked.
“It’s a celebration. Remember that place you took me to on Orbis 3? The place with the musician?”
“He was amazing.”
“Then I think you might like this. Watch,” she said, holding her fingers to her lips.
I looked at the stage near the bottom of the amphitheater. A few aliens were setting up musical instruments among the rubbish. Single notes washed over me as they tuned their stringed devices. I watched more musicians join the group, and the air soon resonated with a cacophony of notes and sounds as they set up their instruments. I fidgeted in my seat, anxious to hear them play. Max looked at me and smiled.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
Then she leaned toward me and rested her head against my shoulder at the precise moment the musicians came together. A wall of sound fell upon us, and anyone who had been sleeping now sat up. It was amazing that amid all this atrophy, a sound so pure and so promising could lift me up and turn my dingy surroundings into the most exquisite concert hall in the universe. I sat with Max and listened without saying a word. We let the music fill in the spaces around us, and for that moment, I had everything I had ever dreamed about when I was on the Renaissance. It did not matter what they had planned for me. It didn’t even matter what Theylor said they had done to me. I could resist it. I knew I could.
Then I threw up. The feeling came so fast, I barely had time to react. As my mouth filled with vomit, I tore away from Max, horrified that I might puke on her. I unloaded the contents of my stomach on the unfortunate alien to my right.
“JT! Are you all right? What’s wrong? Are you still sick?” she cried.
I couldn’t face Max. I was so embarrassed and I didn’t want her asking why I was still sick because I don’t think could have lied to her just then.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the alien next to me, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead he picked through the remains on his shirt as if I had passed him the leftovers of my meal (which I kind of did, in a way).
I wiped my mouth and turned back to Max. “I guess I’m not a hundred percent yet,” I said.
“Let’s go back,” she insisted.
“No, I said. I love this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re sick. What if it’s something serious?”
It was serious, very serious. But I couldn’t tell her I was going to be like this for the rest of my life and that it was only going to get worse. My head was splitting now, and my underarms were soaked as well. If Max knew the truth, if she knew what Theylor had told me, I was certain that she would never accept me and I would lose her.
Live with it! I reminded myself.
“Let’s get some water,” she said.
“Good idea.”
Reluctantly, I left the amphitheater, following Max back up and into the street, mumbling to her the entire time that I was sorry.
After I assured Max that I was fine, I told her, “That’s such a golden place. How did you ever find it?”
“That’s the thing, JT. There is so much like that here in Murat, but the Trading Council won’t fund any of it. In fact, they ma
de it illegal for certain groups, like those musicians, to even perform concerts anymore.”
“That’s stupid.”
“But it’s happening. The city is jam-packed with these little pockets of creativity. It’s really inspiring. I mean, despite the conditions these people are forced to live under, they are still able to connect to the Source.”
“The Source?”
“Creativity is the best way to connect to the Universe,” she replied matter-of-factly as she dashed into the surface street, pausing for a makeshift tram to pass.
“Do you really believe all that stuff, Max?”
“You mean OIO?”
“Yeah. I don’t get it. It just smells like another system of rules.”
Max stopped in front of a fountain where water bubbled out of a plastic pipe. “Here,” she said. “Drink this.”
“Is it clean?” I asked her.
“Crystal,” she replied, and I drank. “OIO’s not like that at all. It’s really an investigation of truths and principles that guide our Universe. It helps a lot of people remain calm in the presence of all the trouble and chaos around them. You ever see a Nagool get upset?”
“None that I can think of. So that’s it? It just makes you calm?”
Max turned to me and chuckled. “No! You really don’t get this stuff, do you? I’m so surprised. Look. It’s very simple. The Universe is energy. Our thoughts and actions contribute to this energy and have influence over every creature within it. Negative or deconstructive energy created by individuals, and even societies as a whole, contribute to behaviors that are self-destructive, like a hidden virus undetected in our psyche. That deconstructive energy feeds certain forces in our Universe and has the power to corrupt entire cultures — look at the Trading Council. Even when they know their actions are destructive, they continue because they are addicted to this energy. Remember Theodore and those tetrascopes?”
“What does this have to do with Ketheria?”
“Some say the Universe chooses a Scion. The balance of constructive and deconstructive energy flowing from the Source is very delicate. The universe can self-destruct under the sheer mass of unopposed deconstructive energy. When Ketheria has completely awoken these negative forces will no longer influence her. Her nodes will be in perfect sync with the brightest part of the Source. Nagools consider Scions to be the only enlightened individuals in the universe. A Scion’s presence alone can raise the consciousness of another individual by absorbing all their deconstructive energy. To become conscious is the greatest gift a Scion can give you, but it scares the crap out of the Trading Council.”
“Why?”
“There is a direct link between consciousness and a sense of self. When your nodes are clogged by deconstructive energy, you feel worthless and incapable of achieving anything, which makes you very easy to control. The Trading Council likes their knudniks that way. On the other hand, a higher consciousness can make you feel like you can do anything. Even run these rings.”
“No wonder so many Scions have been killed,” I said.
“It reminds me a lot of the way you acted around Switzer on the Renaissance. You really kept your head when most people wouldn’t.”
“I don’t consider those the finer moments in my life. I’d rather forget them,” I said.
Max smiled, moved toward me, and put her arms around me. “Did you like me back then?”
“Did you like me?” I asked, resting my nose against hers.
When I breathed, Max winced and pinched my lips together with her fingers. “You shouldn’t talk. C’mon, let’s get something to eat. Something that will settle your stomach.”
“What? Does my breath stink? Great!”
“C’mon. I know another place,” she yelled as she ran ahead.
I looked at Murat a little differently after what Max had told me. Instead of seeing trading chambers simply filled with junk, I began to notice exquisite little dolls fashioned from scraps of plastic and thread as well as detailed paintings on discarded scraps of metal or wood, all hung neatly in the chambers and ready for sale. Windows were no longer stacked with discarded electronics but rather parts used by skilled technicians repairing anything their customers could bring them. Despite the obstacles created by the First Families, these new Citizens had carved out an existence for themselves.
Just like you, I whispered to myself. I sure was going to try.
I saw Max stop under a huge splash of red light outside a tiny chamber. The doorway was so small, I was forced to turn sideways to enter, and once I was inside, the smell of cooking grease violated my senses. To my right, I saw three Bachaks stuffed behind a tall counter lined with mismatched metallic stools. I watched as these brawny-looking aliens with thick forearms jammed pouches of fried foods under tiny light chutes that delivered the food to smaller tables along the wall. Max and I sat at the farthest table from the counter. She was giggling as we sat.
“Golden place, huh?” she said.
“Small,” I remarked.
“This is only part of it.” Then Max knocked on the wall behind her bench. A few moments later, part of the wall slid back.
“Max!” cried the alien who opened the door. I stepped back. It was a Belaran. Her inky black skin and sharp features immediately brought back memories of Madame Lee, who had tried to kill me on Orbis 1.
“Hi, Tic. I brought my friend, the one I told you about. I hope you don’t mind,” Max said.
Tic looked me over and smiled. “Of course not. Come in!” Max squeezed past, and I followed. “Who would refuse the Tonat?” Tic whispered as I passed. I spun around to look at her, but the alien’s back was to me while she locked the little door.
I turned back and followed Max down the narrow hallway and into a much larger, circular room. We stepped over cushions scattered on the floor, and I ducked under one of two metal pots that hung from the center of the ceiling. The pots leaked blue smoke that wove its way through the silks also hanging from the ceiling. Max plopped onto one of the cushions, and I did the same as Tic gathered some drinking glasses. The Belaran appeared much older than Madame Lee and walked with a slight stoop. To me, Tic seemed like a bland version of the warrior I once knew, but I was still nervous. Belarans had a fierce reputation.
“JT wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to go home,” Max said.
“You are always welcome here,” Tic exclaimed. “I have just the thing that will help your friend as well.”
When Tic left the room, I whispered to Max, “What’s a Belaran doing here?”
“We are not all as fortunate as some of our race,” Tic answered for herself, returning to the room with three glasses.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just surprised to see someone from Zinovia in Murat.”
“Zinovia is an amazing planet, but far too ruthless for my tastes. I like the simplicity of Murat. Don’t you?” she said as she passed me a glass and then another to Max. I noticed that mine was filled with a black liquid while Max’s was yellow. “Drink it. It will help your stomach.”
“How did you know it was my stomach?” I asked.
Tic did not reply. Instead, she took a sip from her own glass and glanced at Max. “I trust you’re feeling fine,” she said.
“Yes, but I do need to use your bathroom.”
“Of course. You know where it is.”
After Max left the room, I sat in awkward silence while Tic just stared at me. I tried to drink the liquid, but the smell only twisted my stomach more.
“Trust me: it will help you. I have more if you need it.”
“Thanks, but this will pass.”
“Will it?” she asked.
I glanced up at Tic. What did she know?
“The Belaran believed that they possessed the Scion at one point, as well you know,” she whispered. “In fact, I believe you met her once.”
“Who?”
“Madame Lee believed that she was the Scion, or at least she wanted to b
e. Such a taste for power, that one.”
“Really?”
“She was livid after the Keepers had proven her unworthy. She even had a Tonat.”
“Where is he?”
“Why do you assume it was a male?”
“I’m sorry. Where is she?”
“Dead. The genetic alterations killed her, as often happens when individuals try to force what should be a natural process.”
“You know about that?”
“It’s written all over you.”
“Don’t tell Max. Please!”
“Don’t tell her what? That the boy she loves has been genetically altered by the Trust to protect his sibling? That her partner will forever feel the tug of the Scion even to the point of physical ailment?”
“Max loves me?”
“You miss the point. As the Tonat, your cell structure has been coded to respond to the needs of the Scion. Even if you do not want to be the Tonat, you cannot escape its effects.”
“I know. The Keepers told me already. Theylor explained to me that even if I choose not to be the Tonat, my genetic structure will fight me every step of the way.” I stood up. “I can’t believe they did this to me.”
“Understand that the Trust, those five patriarchic Space Jumpers, are wired to do one thing: create the Space Jumper that protects the Scion. That’s all they care about. The Trust knows what they are doing. They’ve been getting ready for this just as long as the Nagools. Maybe longer. The Scion needs a Tonat.”
“But this is supposed to be my life. How can I have my own life and choose what I want to do when a bunch of aliens have already rewired me to protect another?”
“Do you think it’s fair not to tell Max? Do you think that’s fair to either of you?”
“Nothing seems fair on the Rings of Orbis.”
“Then you should feel welcome here.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Max asked as she returned.
I looked at Tic. I wasn’t ready to tell Max. Please don’t, I thought.
The Softwire: Awakening on Orbis 4 Page 7
