Song of a Dead Star

by Zamil Akhtar

  Kyars snickered and tinkered with his shoe straps. “Man, if that was our culture, I’m glad it got its ass drowned.”

  Hours passed. The pair settled, changed into slacks, and lay on their mattresses. So much for sleep; napping now wouldn’t help sleeping through all six hours of UHR anyway.

  Kav stared at the ceiling while fingering the bond beneath his shirt. And he wished it was a different ceiling, and the room a different room, and this damned country a different damned country.

  “So Kavy — weekend leave is coming, baby.” Kyars beamed. “That’s all that’s been on my mind. You down for north Almaria?”

  “I’ll go anywhere, so long as I don’t have to breathe this weak Shirmian air. But Almaria does sound fun.”

  “Fun? Like I been saying, Almarian chicks are where it’s at. You’re gonna have fun, and then some.”

  Kav let silence drench the conversation.

  “What, man? What’s with that look?” Kyars said. “She’s a thousand miles away!”

  “Nah, just an eight hour lev flight.”

  “A levship flight to Necia costs, what, five-hundred twinsen? You got five-hundred shards in the bank to see her? On the other hand, Almaria’s a fifty twinsen train ride away.”

  “You know, Almarian chicks are indeed fine, but most of them are devout too. That country’s full of saints and scholars. Those women ain’t as loose as you fantasize.”

  “Look, even so, you’re only gonna see your girl once a year when we get our two weeks. How the hell you gonna live on that diet?”

  “No doubt it hurts, but I made a vow. I can’t just back out on my vows — a man’s got to be honorable. Besides, I’m still crazy about her.”

  Kyars rolled over in his bed like an unfurling dog. “Tell me something then, just so I can understand. Why do you love her so damn much? What the hell has put that ‘bond’ into your heart, figuratively and literally?”

  Kav stared at the ceiling. “Eh...”

  “Okay fine, tell me this. What’s your favorite memory of her? Like, the thing you think about when you’re trying to fall asleep, that gives you that warmth and all. Tell me about that, so maybe I can get your whole infatuation.”

  “Get your own favorite memory.”

  “Dammit Kav, tell me, please. I’m so curious my head hurts.”

  “Fine, fine. Lemme set the scene...”

  And Kav recounted his favorite memory with Layla. Ironically, one that never put him to sleep, but rather kept him up through UHR on days when he needed sleep the most.

  The scene was this: a garden where fruits hung so low, you could pick apples just by reaching out. Clusters of leaves on trees so thick, even the sun was blocked from entering. Towering palm trees spread their shade everywhere, leaving each blade of grass crisp and cool.

  A bubbling spring ran through the garden, caressing your feet as you stepped. And there was Kav, with Layla, sitting beneath the shade of the tallest tree.

  “Why’d you choose me?” Kav asked. “It’s been years, and I never understood.”

  The locks of Layla’s hair, blue as deep ocean, waved over her eyes as a gust of wind blew. Kind of messy. “I guess I was drawn to you, that’s all.”

  “Drawn to me? You gotta do better than that. I’m an islander, you’re a Shirmian. Your bathtub is bigger than my house. So why?”

  She gazed into him, her sapphire eyes thudding his heart. “You know the verse from the recitals, about how all things are created in pairs? You’re my pair, Kav. Our souls were created together, so nothing of the outward matters. Not your race, or your memories, or where you live. We had to find each other, and we’ll be together for eternity. No matter what.”

  “Kav, shut the hell up. Just shut your damn face.” Kyars cut Kav off, just when he was getting to the best part. Then Kyars jumped off his bed and started lecturing like the General. “I don’t wanna hear that crap. By Nur, you’re a man, don’t fall for that camel shit.”

  “I’m telling you my favorite memory, like you asked, and you’re calling it camel shit?”

  “Look, girls — that’s how they get you,” Kyars said. “I’m telling you man, don’t believe a word of it. It’s all talk, none of that is really in their hearts. They’re cold as hell. If hell wasn’t a burning sea of fire.”

  “I know that, I’ve been on the whole tour, so sit down.” Kav turned away from Kyars. “But Layla...she’s different. She’s not like other girls, she has this...sadness to her and this mystery and...anyway, forget it.”

  Kyars got back on his mattress. “Man, I’m sorry. I’d really like you to finish your story.”

  “No.”

  “Really...truly...please...”

  “I said no.”

  “I’ll treat you to some steamed salmon?”

  Kav rolled his eyes. “Clamp that mouth this time until I’m finished.”

  Under the tree in the garden, the gentlest breeze kissed them both. Layla gazed holes through Kav’s heart, her warmth pressed against his shoulder.

  She took something out of her pocket. “Let’s get married.”

  “Damn. You’re sure direct.”

  She held a jewel between her fingers. Within that jewel, swirled the sun itself. It was that stunning.

  “You’d rather I dance around the notion? Or send you a menu of mixed signals?”

  Kav touched his nose to hers. “A castrated panda couldn’t say no to you. Let’s do it.”

  Before he could kiss her, she reached out to him with the jewel.

  “Whoah,” Kav said, “you wanna get married right here?”

  “With Nur as our witness!” She grinned her mischievous grin.

  “We can’t. I’ve got nothing to give you.”

  “Go up in a tree and grab an apple. That will be your dowry to me, and this will be my offering to you.”

  He reached up to grab an apple. They were the thickest red — blood red — as if biting one would be like chewing through flesh. Luminous apples drenched with garden mist.

  He gave it to her, and the bond was sealed. With Nur as their witness.

  “Wait a damned minute,” Kyars said. “I know I’m not supposed to interrupt, but that’s some camel shit right there. You can’t get married with ‘Nur as your witness’, you need at least three witnesses for a marriage to be legal. You know, real flesh and blood human beings.”

  Kav focused on the white ceiling. “Obviously, it was a romantic gesture. Not something someone like you would understand. After that, we went back to town and got married with witnesses and whatnot. All legal, all straight, and I bought her something better than a damn apple and we had our jewels sewed into our chests. So that’s the whole story, my favorite damn moment of my damn life. Now I’m spent, I need sleep so I can mess up that Shirma Tusir tomorrow.”

  “Oh yeah! I forgot to congratulate you for winning today. I was so worried about you, that they’d come after you again. Whatever, my boy’s a finalist! Damn, I hadn’t even realized. Here we are talking about girls when you could be declared the conductor of the year. Now if only there were girls around to witness it...”

  “I got this,” Kav said. “Victory is already humming my name. I will win.”

  Kyars stretched to shut the blinds; the room darkened. The sun gazed through a gap at the top, peaking in at Kav’s bedside. Dust swirled in the air where the sunray hit.

  “See, I might be pig-headed, but you Kav, are proud and arrogant. Nur will forgive me, but not you. Humility, my brother.”

  At that, Kav pretended he was asleep. Minutes passed, and Kyar’s snoring confirmed that he’d left the waking world. Kav wanted to do the same, but dancing thoughts trampled his drowsiness.

  The Mask, could he be the same one from four years ago? If I win tomorrow, and I get to meet him, then what? The hell will I do then?

  He longed for the thoughts to stop so he could rest up for the big match.

  If it’s the same Magus...if there’s even a chance I can meet him, I have to
take it. I have to win. And then I can finally kill him.

  After lumbering through the halls without any sleep, Kav slept through his Advanced Energy Routing class. He sat down for lunch with Kyars at twelve.

  “Man, you shoulda woken me up if you couldn’t sleep,” Kyars said. “I would’ve knocked your ass out. How’re you gonna beat Tusir in this shape?”

  Kav took a sip of his espresso shot. “Sleep is overrated. I’m giving him a much needed handicap.”

  “You mean, you’re giving yourself a handicap.”

  “Whatevs, same meaning.” Kav sipped. Quality espresso. These Shirmians could sure brew a cup.

  A few minutes of silent eating passed. Kav ate his curry rice granule by granule, having little energy to fill his stomach.

  “You know what I was thinking this morning?” Kyars said. “I was thinking about how I want to die. And I think I know...how I want to die.”

  “How?” This is gonna be good...

  “Imagine me, creeping around the palaces of Kostany. I sneak into the Shah’s harem, where I have my way with his Almarian quarter. No scratch that, I ain’t gonna limit myself to one race. Hell, if he’s got any Haemians in there, I’ll take ‘em too. Anyway, the guards are alerted, they rush in with their scimitars, but before they kill me, I die Buktansir style!”

  “Buktansir style? Should I even ask what that is?”

  “Buktansir was the great conqueror who had over one-thousand children and three-hundred concubines. The man died while...you know.”

  “Damn.”

  Kyars nodded in rhythm. “I’ll give you some time to digest that. Then you tell me how you want to die.”

  How I want to die? The question was like a shot of energy. Or maybe that was the espresso.

  “Aright, aright. Here’s my version,” Kav said. “Imagine me, relaxing in a grassy field. No scratch that, relaxing on the roof of a tower. And I’m staring at the sky, just lying down, looking up. And then, all of a sudden, an immense meteor rips through the clouds. It flies downward at incredible speed, hits the city, and boom, buildings tear apart, and a massive cloud of death comes toward me and that’s the last thing I see before Nur takes my soul.”

  “That’s just sick!” said a voice at Kav’s flank. “What messed you up in childhood?”

  Kav spun to face him.

  It was the blond-haired Tusir, glaring at him with his proud Shirmian nose.

  And so Kav glared back.

  A minute might have passed.

  “Fine, I’ll crack the silence,” Kav said. “What in the blue hell do you want?”

  “Just here to have a little conversation.”

  Kyars piled his leftovers on his tray. “I’m out, have class anyway.” He darted out the cafeteria.

  Tusir sat in his place. “You’re damn good.”

  “Nah. I try, is all.”

  “You do more than just ‘try’. I heard about your domination in the round phase. Not one red jewel — mighty stuff.”

  “Which is why you tried to off me in the quarters, eh?”

  Tusir smirked and leaned back in his chair. “You know, someone who fights as hard as you has got to have a good reason. Most of these guys around us are, for lack of a better word, clowns. Straight up clowns, who got to fill their compulsory service at the world’s best academy ‘cause their parents got connections. They don’t want to be here, they don’t want to fight, it’s not in their blood. But you’re something else.”

  “Yeah? Maybe so.”

  “You know, someone who fights as hard as you, either they’re here because they got someone to protect, or they really want to mess someone up.”

  Kav looked away and stared out the window. A flock of birds fluttered by outside.

  “So which is it, Kav?”

  “I just want the glory, man, there ain’t nothin’ deep to me. For myself, and my people.”

  Back to glaring at each other.

  “Your people?” Tusir said. “Where’re you from?”

  “Riau island. In the south of Necia.”

  “Really? I’ve been there. Love the local delicacy, what do you call it, those fish pancakes?”

  Eyebrow was itching, so Kav scratched. “Oh yeah, good stuff, good stuff.”

  And then Tusir closed his eyes. A message hit Kav’s consciousness.

  You’re not from Necia. Damn liar.

  It was obviously Tusir — his frequency unfamiliar.

  Think what you want. Kav replied. I got nothing more to say to you, so why don’t you meet me in the field?

  You’re Keldanese. Tusir messaged. For sure. I know, because I grew up in Keldan, in the Shirmian quarter of Hyseria. I can tell the difference between Necians and you Keldanese.

  “Save it for the fight.” Kav pushed the table and got up. Time for class anyway.

  Tusir messaged as he was leaving. I can spread your secret. All your Necian buddies will hate you. And there’ll probably be an investigation into your background. Just what’re you hiding? Damn, you a terrorist or something? You Sons of the Deep, or Keldan Alive, or some shit? They’ll deport you. Or worse, imprison you. But I’ll keep your secret, if you do one thing for me. Throw the match.

  You know, even though I’m not one, I admire the Keldanese. Kav replied. They don’t take shit from anyone, and neither will I.

  With sunlight in his veins, Kav wrote a block for Tusir’s frequency. The aperture fed a confirmation back to his mind. And then he went to class, the desire to win burning away tiredness.

  The forest was furious. Leaves blew off trees in raging gusts, weaving a tapestry of foliage through the air. Kav stood still — eyes closed. He felt his wrist throb as his twicrys filled with sunshine.

  Ping. He sent waves out through the forest, creating a spectrum map in his mind. Everything had its own pattern of colors, suspended in motion.

  But his foe Tusir was nowhere on it.

  Has he cloaked himself?

  Kav stood as still as he could, like another tree beaten on by raging leaves. They pattered across his face, smelling of old life. Crunching into one another, whirling away.

  That’s how I’ll hear him, footsteps on leaves.

  He listened for the crunch. Patter patter — leaves hit his face. The wind whispered. Patter patter.

  Patter patter.

  Red light hit his eyes. It beamed onto him from a perch somewhere.

  Shit.

  Kav ducked behind a tree to cut off the angle of the light. He looked down to check the jewel belt.

  One was red. Dammit.

  Eyes closed, he released a spectrum ping. The area where the light came from seemed clean.

  Has he moved?

  There was something odd: an unusually large black hole in the spectrum map. Large enough to be the aura of a person. Up on a tree, twenty-five yards southwest. Unmoving, the black hole was still as he pinged again. He’s sniping...

  Kav dashed for another tree, keeping cover between him and what he knew was Tusir. Leaves pummeled him as he pushed against the wind. He slid under a sprawling oak. It must have been a hundred years old; its branches reached to the sun over all others.

  Once again, Kav pinged. This time, the black hole was gone.

  He looked to the right — nothing. To the left — there! Kav slashed at the Shirmian boy and conducted a wide red wave. The boy jumped, slashed back in the air. Red flashed in Kav’s eyes.

  Tusir dove into a bush. Kav was sure his charge hit the boy’s foot.

  Back behind cover, Kav checked his belt. Two red.

  2-1 — I got this. I can come back.

  A quick look at spectrum revealed Tusir about fifteen yards west — blue-shifting. Kav peeked out from behind the trunk, saw no one. Tusir must have his own cover. By spectrum, Kav determined which tree the boy hid behind. I can flank him.

  Kav dashed, keeping low, to a closer tree. He checked his angle, but still couldn’t see Tusir. Spectrum showed the boy in flight — red-shifting.

  From tree t
o tree, Kav approached in a circle. There! Tusir sat huddled behind a fungus-infested log. Kav slashed twice, precise bursts at his torso. Direct hit. That’s two more! Kav slashed upwards for the third and final. Tusir sidestepped, released a wide-area burst. Light scathed Kav’s eyes. He backstepped behind a log.

  Three red on the belt — 3-3. This one decides it.

  I’m close. Damn close. To lose from here would be tragic. I won’t.

  Spectrum revealed the boy near, about ten yards north.

  “This’s been one hell of a fight!” Tusir said.

  Kav kept silent, focused on ending it.

  “I don’t think I can win,” Tusir continued. “You’re too fast. You release two in the time it takes me one.”

  “You givin’ up, Shirma?”

  “The Blessing of the Deep Blue — you definitely have it. It’s sad, my parents moved to a settlement on the Keldanese rim so that I could be born with it as well. All my life, I drank nothing but Deep Blue water, bathed in that water, ate only fish from that water. But I’m still not even close to as good as you.”

  Nostalgic words, almost comforting. Words tinged with blue. Focus. If his words have any truth, I need to beat him NOW.

  The tree which hid Tusir was thick, but another ten or so yards and Kav could see behind it.

  “Lemme win,” Tusir said. “You don’t understand, I need to win. It matters more to me than you can know.”

  Three yards. Two. One. There! Kav released a precision shot, reddening the world.

  Direct hit! The match ender!

  Tusir came out, blade sheathed in his belt. And next to it, were four blue jewels.

  “The hell?” Kav gaped. “You cheating piece of gorilla shit!”

  “I can’t lose to you. I won’t.” Tusir unsheathed his blade.

  Kav charged at him, grabbed his neck, and threw him to the floor; then stopped himself from stomping the Shirmian in the gut; then stopped himself from smashing the boy’s proud nose.

  Kav picked up Tusir’s blade and threw it next to him. “Get up and finish this farce.”