Song of a Dead Star

by Zamil Akhtar

  Hesitating, she looked at the White Mask. She sensed the man underneath. Perhaps it was him looking at her, wishing her well through those bright slits.

  “Plug it in,” he said.

  She did. It clicked. The sky accepted.

  A whirlwind sucked the clouds and swallowed the diamond sun. Zauri was enveloped. Gravity reversed — all sight eclipsed.

  On the other side, she felt herself as someone else.

  She looked through someone else’s eyes. Felt her skin wrap over her soul. Bathed in her thoughts and emotion. Layla.

  The memories of a girl named Layla played on her soul, as if they were her own.

  There was that house — the wooden cottage. She was inside — alone. The birds sang but they weren’t really there. No other life with her — alone.

  There was a dead city where floating bridges connected metal towers. People laughed and machines roared, but they weren’t really there.

  Alone. I was all by myself.

  A tree grew out of the city, knocked down the buildings. A tower fell into the ocean, caused a tidal wave. Everything metal tore, replaced by singing earth. Plants of deep green sprouted over shattered steel. The tree was higher than the sun, and from its branches grew colorful clouds.

  Someone’s here.

  A boy fell out of a cloud. He landed in a garden, built over the graveyard of machines.

  Kav.

  In the wooden cottage, Kav lived with her. After a few days, she wanted to know what made him laugh. And what made him cry. And what warmed him when he felt bitter. Why? She didn’t know why. Maybe because he was the only one who could share this space with her.

  It was...

  Infatuation. A river made of wine. The wine was not intoxicating. Each sip only increased their infatuation. They drank mouthfuls as they swam. She wanted him to want her, so he would agree to experience something.

  What was it? I was hiding something from him.

  Above the diamond sun, there was once another sun: a black hole, eating the flames of its brother. On a cold day, she saw that sun cry. Its wails filled space, and its tears rained unto the world. It shed itself, tear by tear, until it was a dot — a singularity. A final howl shook the universe, and the sun was no more.

  One day, she came across one of its tears on a mountain. She picked it up — a pearl within which swirled a supernova.

  The saddest shell.

  She took it with her back to the cottage and put it in a box among other hidden things. Things she yearned to share with someone, someday.

  That day came after Kav fell from the clouds and lived with her and shared her closest spaces. It was the brightest day in her memory, when the two of them played hide and seek like children in a garden. No clocks ticked in her mind. There was only the moment.

  The giant apple tree was the best hiding place. Carpets of leaves on colossal branches shaded its interior, so she climbed up and in. The apples dripped red. She huddled on the branch and waited.

  I wanted him to find me.

  His presence rustled the grass below. She covered her mouth and kept still.

  But it was futile. Kav climbed, scaled her fort. She broke off an apple and threw it at him. It hit his shoulder, but he continued climbing. She barraged him with apples. He reached her tower and pressed against her.

  Upon the colossal branch, she rolled on top of him. “Is it possible, that we become one?” Every part of her warmed his.

  “Two people becoming one? I guess, it should be possible. If you can become one with a ship or machine, why not with another person?”

  She let her nose fall on his. His eyes locked with hers. Sweaty hands clasped. Her toes felt the moistness of his ankles.

  “I want to see the colored clouds, out of your eyes.” She wished he wasn’t wearing clothes.

  “I want to hear drops of silence, the way you hear it.” She wished he didn’t have skin or bones, so she could fall in.

  “I want to feel your heart beat, as if it were my own.” She wished they were liquid paints, blue and green, mixed together to become one water.

  “I want to be your soul.”

  He looked at her as if she was crazy. “We’ll find a way, to be one forever, and then neither of us will ever be alone.”

  She wanted him to fill her empty, dark spaces — to know about every hidden thing. To seal the bond, she gave him the Tear, and he gave her an apple. The next day, he threw her on the dining table. He filled her with his light, and she filled him with hers. And in the eyes of Nur, they became one.

  But all bonds would break. The death of that bond burned her. She didn’t want it to end, but this oneness was not eternal.

  It’s over already? Kav, will we ever touch again?

  That day, weeks ago, Zauri woke in an elevator with Merv, aboard the Maymanah. Feelings of togetherness and separation beat through her, as if they were her own.

  Kav let go of Layla’s bond and left it in his pocket. “I can still feel her light inside. We became one, Layla and I. What we shared was real, it couldn’t be false. There’s just no way.” He picked up his TEX standard scimitar. “I won’t give up. I’m taking Layla, and then I’ll find out the truth. Because I know you don’t speak it.”

  “Her light, you say? How wondrous.” Asha readied his blade. “Your love for the country you think is your home. Your love for the girl you think is your wife. Everything you identify with and adore was manufactured in you, and yet, you find it utterly convincing. A memory is a memory, whether it happened to you or not, it’s all in your head anyway. All our narratives are like this — countries invent lies to galvanize themselves into action, and so do people. But enough talk.”

  Asha swung. His blade came at Kav’s right shoulder. Side-shuffle — Kav dodged around a coil of wires. Four wireframe walls trapped him.

  Don’t fight this battle alone! Plug it in!

  Asha turned to follow. Saina stayed a few yards away. With a glare, Kav told her not to do anything rash. Her eyes returned mixed signals.

  Asha surged. Metal hit metal. Kav slashed at his stomach. Clang! Asha blocked with his blade. Too fast.

  So fast, it was as if his blade never moved. Kav stepped back. Layla slept to his left, mummified in wires. Behind him, the door was cordoned off by soldiers. They watched, enthralled frozen by the fight.

  “It’s a trick,” Kav said. “You’re still conducting. You haven’t weakened. There’s an unseen energy that empowers you.”

  Asha moved next to Layla’s body. He put his hand on her mask. “You know, the Elkarians are able to do things you and I could only wonder about. They can store sunshine and use it for days in the dark. They have free-flying ships, operated by conductors with unreal power. Like this girl here.”

  What’s his move? What’s all this talk while fighting?

  The Whisperer had an opinion. Asha fears you, only because he fears me. He fears the power of the Key. Plug it in!

  With his finger, Asha drew imaginary circles on Layla’s mask. “So, Kav, what would you do if I snapped the girl’s neck right here?”

  “You won’t. You need her to fly your ship.”

  Let me tell you a secret. Without that twicrys, you wouldn’t be alive. It is the very thing that sustains you, it is what pumps your blood. It has the power to put out the sun, to rend the earth, to even bring the dead to life. It is what brought you back to life. Plug it in!

  Asha lifted his hand. “You’re right. Not yet, at least. She’s an abomination, not meant for this world. But today, we do indeed need her. Hamlah!”

  “Kav,” Saina said, “he’s ordered the soldiers to attack!”

  They streamed in. Four were in the room: two blocked Saina’s path, two ran at Kav. Fire flew off their blades. Kav dodged, then wound up and struck. Easy — he slit their necks with two swipes. The stench of blood filled his nose.

  The two who went for Saina were dead and twisted on the floor. She killed them that fast? This is too easy.

  Kav
turned to Asha. He wasn’t there.

  Shit.

  Another soldier ran into room. Blood gushed from a hole in his neck, leaked out his eyes, dripped from his ears. It was the one Saina killed earlier.

  “Why did you kill me?” he said with a bloody mouth. “I was just doing my job!”

  Gone before his eyes. There were no bodies in the room. No blood. Kav’s sword was clean, so was Saina’s.

  A masked man appeared at the doorway. Magus Asha — as they knew him. “You must have thought yourself cornered, but you didn’t request his help. Strange. Did you really feel that confident?”

  The fire of Asha’s mask was the room’s brightest light. Burning porcelain. The rest was a cascade of blue shadow.

  “So, it’s just you and us then?” Kav said. “It’s trick after trick with you Magi.”

  “A good trick though, no?” Magus Asha moved without moving. Into the room, closer and closer. “I have many more to show you.”

  This is it. He knows your weakness. He suspects your powerlessness. He’s revealed himself only because he’s confident his next move will end it. You’ve got to spring a surprise. Plug it in.

  Kav put his hand in his pocket.

  I’ll become your puppet again.

  I only ask you to act in your own interest.

  I’d rather be free.

  Magus Asha stood still, flickers of blue fire whirling around him.

  If that’s your choice, Kav, then this is really the end.

  Even today, Zauri had no idea what the dream meant. But the memories of being Layla, of living with Kav, had been etched on her soul with an eternal chisel — as if her own experience. She knew she deserved the pain: the longing and bitterness of separation. But she didn’t know why she had such feelings.

  She knew things would be better off ended. With no light above Eden, she flew over the sea, understanding her bearings by unseen wavelengths.

  Much better, Zauri. I’m sure you’ll be able to speed up soon.

  Sooner than you think. If I get high enough, a free fall into the sea will surely end it all.

  She had to time it right, or Merv could reroute her control of the ship to the collective of conductors. This was a different ship though. It felt too light for there to be many onboard.

  Can you move laterally yet? Think you can balance it?

  I probably can. I’ve gotten the hang of these little wings. But I won’t.

  That tower stood taller than her. She hated it. She wished the lightning would kill it, but it appeared unshaken by the bolts hitting its tip.

  Wait! You’re ascending too fast! We don’t need to be at this altitude.

  Higher and higher. Cumulous clouds welcomed her within their cushion. Electricity swarmed and webbed and crackled inside.

  Zauri, what the hell are you doing? Get us out of this damn cloud!

  Ravines of darkness immersed her. It was calm. She floated for a moment, as if the cloud was her cradle. Peace. But it was time to end everything.

  Then she saw something odd. Unseen wavelengths pinged off a metal object, halfway to the earth.

  There’s another ship. A thousand feet below.

  Merv took his time, then responded.

  Lacan says that can’t be right. They can’t fly without the sun. You sure? Maybe you’re misreading.

  Zauri descended out the cloud to get a better look. No, it was there: a small craft, silently hovering. Directly below her position.

  It’s there.

  Forget it, stick to the plan. Don’t back out now.

  Then we have to go. It’ll have trouble following us once we cross into Haemian space. We don’t know who that is, so be careful. Start moving laterally north-west.

  If I fall, what’s that ship going to do? It won’t be able to harm me, I’ll be dead. I shouldn’t fear it. I might be small, but...

  Fear of living and fear of the unknown clashed within. She desired escape from such fears.

  Zauri! Go!

  The Word and fear combined to force her. All willpower seized, her nose pushed forward — north-west. Toward Haemian space.

  Spectrum showed the ship below, following her.

  What am I doing? I’ve got to stop.

  I can’t stop. I can’t say no.

  I’ve got no self control.

  I was born to be used, and I won’t die until they’ve used me up.

  Good, pick up speed.

  He’s going to keep telling me to do things. One day, he’ll tell me to destroy the world. And I’ll do it.

  This is my last chance to say no. Once and for all.

  Zauri, faster!

  No.

  No!

  She dipped her nose. Descending at 15°. Then 30°. Then 45°.

  What are you...stop! For Nur’s sake! Zauri!

  60°, 75°, 85°. Almost straight down. 1500 feet. 1300.

  1000.

  For once, I’m doing the right thing.

  900.

  Zauri! Why!?

  But is this really the right thing?

  700.

  Isn’t suicide the worst sin?

  500.

  But it’s either this or that.

  400.

  Peace.

  350.

  Her grip on the ship weakened, eyes blotted, soul trapped in metal without senses and movement. Merv must’ve taken control away. She hoped he didn’t act fast enough.

  Her metal lungs filled with water. Then her will let go.

  Kav could only watch, suspended against a wall, as metal and sparks crisscrossed the room. Gravity changed: the wall was the floor, the floor was the wall, and Layla hung from her seat — held by wires that were like snakes across her arms and legs.

  Pressure welled in his ears. Earthquakes ripped through. Saina clung to a wireframe wall, her hair wild — red eyes staring at death.

  Flung again, Kav banged onto the grate floor, ribs throbbing, head panging. Acceleration pushed him to the opposite wireframe.

  The ship settled into calmer motion. The world inverted to normal. The shackles holding Layla held her safely in place. But Saina...

  “I’m okay.” She breathed heavily, kneeling on the floor. “Let’s just take her and go home.”

  You may have a chance yet, Kav. Disconnect those wires, just pull them out, cut them off her. Hurry.

  Where is Asha?

  It seems he’s been forced to take over as pilot.

  Layla lay limp on her seat. The wire lights flickered. Kav fingered a wire at her spine, noticed a widget clamping it. He rotated the widget to the left. The wire loosened. He pulled it out.

  Layla moaned.

  “Layla!”

  She mumbled something.

  Kav pulled off the fabric covering her hair and face. Tiny strands of blue speckled her scalp, nothing like the serene locks he remembered. But her face was the same, not even aged beyond his memory.

  Saina said something to her in Kalamic. Then, Layla’s eyes opened.

  “Layla? It’s me...” Are you really her?

  That’s what he wanted to ask. Half of him didn’t believe, the other half needed to.

  She looked at him for the first time. Her pupils dilated — an overwhelmed sapphire. “Kav.” And then she said something in Kalamic.

  She knows my name.

  “She says, she remembers you,” Saina translated, “from...a dream?”

  Kav, don’t waste time! Get her out! Use the hatch from which you entered. There’s another ship approaching, you can escape on it.

  Kav and Saina hurried to unscrew the wires. One by one, they freed Layla from the bindings. Holes dotted her body — nothing like the smooth softness Kav knew. Saina took off her Keldanese thug coat and they wrapped her in it.

  Layla uttered something, eyes still drooping.

  “She says she can’t feel her limbs,” Saina translated.

  “Tell her not to worry, I’ve got her.” Kav picked her up and held her on his chest. She was thin, starved thin.
>
  Step by step, he carried her out the construction frame doorway and through the unfinished corridor, toward the hatch — Asha his primal fear.

  They returned to the hatch ladder. Kav and Saina glared at each other.

  “I’ll open it and help you pull her out,” Saina said.

  Kav nodded. As Saina climbed, he scanned the hallway, waiting for the Magus to appear, praying he wouldn’t.

  Saina reached the top. She struggled to push the hatch open. “Ugghhh!” She must’ve pushed her entire weight against it.

  It gave way. She climbed out, looked down.

  How am I gonna do this?

  With one hand, Kav grabbed a ladder rung and pulled his weight and Layla’s. Too much. He tensed his muscles and tried again. He barely snapped his feet onto the base ring.

  Damn...that took all my strength.

  You’ll gain enough strength if you plug in the Key.

  No...I can do this on my own.

  Kav climbed up one more. His ankles threatened to buckle. And one more. Each time, he reached the limit of his strength. If Asha appeared, he’d have no way to defend himself.

  Finally, he reached the top. Saina pulled Layla out. Kav exited the hatch and stood aboard the hull of the ship.

  At first, the difference between what he stood on, the sky, and the water was unclear. Everything was black. Slowly, his eyes adjusted.

  No land in sight, an endless sea surrounded them. Something glowed on the horizon. It let him see the solidity of what he stood on and the ripples in the water.

  “No land anywhere I can see,” Saina said. “Nowhere to go.”

  Rain smothered their clothes and hair with cold. Then lightning lit the world and brightened everything like sunshine. That’s when he saw it: a hulk of metal swimming toward them. Another ship.

  “There, you see it?”

  Saina squinted. “What is it?”

  “It could be our way out.”

  Layla’s heart beat slowly on Kav’s chest, stuttering to an offbeat rhythm. His heart thumped, more violently each second.

  “Layla?”

  “Hmm?” she replied.

  Good, she was still with him. The ship approached, the whine of its engine nearer and nearer.