The Diamond Deep

by Brenda Cooper

  “There are open cameras throughout the exchanges that any AI can access.”

  “Just AIs?” The Jackman looked unhappy. “Not people?”

  “It would take you seven point three days to watch the combined video from five minutes of all of the cameras through Exchange Four.”

  Evie leaned forward, looking excited. “Can you show me the video you have of Haric?”

  “I’ve put it on your slate.”

  “So, what is Ix doing to catch Koren?”

  “It’s studying the Deeping Rules.”

  “So what should we do now?”

  “I’m watching video,” Evie said. And she was, one earphone dangling against her chest and the other in her left ear, so she had one for the AI and one for the video.

  “I’ll look at the layout of Exchange Four,” The Jackman offered, pulling his slate out of his pocket.

  Onor sat back, the train seat digging against his shoulders. The blue-haired woman still snored behind him, the robot still appeared asleep, and the two men had stopped talking. One was absorbed in his slate and the other appeared to be listening intently to something. Even though absolutely no one was looking at them, Onor couldn’t shake the idea that they were being watched.

  Satyana stood in the doorway, her unnaturally blue eyes staring from Ruby to the medical robot and back again. Fury tightened her jaw so sharply that Ruby took a step back. She pressed into Jali who murmured, “Easy.”

  “Sit down,” Satyana said.

  “I have to go sing. Really. It’s time.” Whatever information kept the robot here and brought Satyana had to be cruel. “If you’ve got bad news, you can tell me after the concert.”

  Satyana kept looking at Ruby as she said, “Jali. Go tell Naveen she’ll be a few minutes late.”

  Jali put a hand on Ruby’s back, as if holding her up. “I want to stay.”

  Satyana shook her head.

  Jali looked at Ruby, who nodded. “I’ll tell you what she says.” Jali stepped away, slowly, and then hesitated again by the door, looking back. “Go on,” Ruby said. “Keep Naveen out of here until I come out. He’s not going to like me being late.”

  The look of betrayal on Jali’s face was almost enough for Ruby to call her back in. She would have, except for the stoic, barely contained anger that sat on Satyana like a curse word.

  As soon as the door closed behind Jali, Ruby snapped “What?”

  “How long have you been sick?”

  “I’m just tired.”

  Satyana stared at her, unmoving. Unyielding.

  “I can’t stop here. If I stop, people will starve.”

  “You’re almost dead.”

  Ruby blinked at her, a sudden wave of shivers running up her spine and goose bumps rising on her arms. She stood up. “I’m not.”

  “How much weight have you lost?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Has Jali had to take in clothes? Make them smaller?”

  “Almost everything’s new.” She heard the childishness of her words, but there wasn’t anything else she could do. She was fine. She had to be. Everyone needed her.

  “Are you nauseous?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “When was the last time you felt well?”

  “Before we got here.”

  “Are there other people sick?”

  Ruby hadn’t asked Marcelle for an update in the last week or so before she left. She’d been caught up in finances and clothes and getting ready, in Aleesi and Ix, and a thousand other things. “Yes. Some. A few died. Early. We thought it was just from being here. Koren tested us all when she came, but maybe she missed the babies. Her damned robot. Looked just like the one you sent. Maybe it was the one you sent.” But then Satyana hadn’t been there, not on the ship. “Anyway, most people are getting better.” She was babbling.

  Satyana spoke slowly, as if that were the only way Ruby might hear her. “You need treatment. It probably won’t save you. Maybe nothing can save you now.”

  Ruby sat and breathed, hard and ragged.

  Satyana sat in the one extra chair that was there. “I’m mad at the whole damned universe. I need you, and you need me. The two of us are enough to make change.” She sat forward, looking closely at Ruby, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You have to get better. The robot says you can’t, but you’ve done other impossible things.”

  Ruby sat and stared at her for a moment. She needed to go. Naveen wasn’t going to wait forever, and there was an audience out there. “What did the robot tell you I have?”

  “An allergy. A deep one. We call it the Death of Hope.”

  “The Death of Hope?” How could anyone name something that badly?

  “There are things we put in our food to keep us young. That’s probably what Koren was testing you for reactions to. When we first started with this, some people died. Not many. But after the first generation, no one died. We thought it was gone, forever. It’s like cancer, which used to kill us but doesn’t any more. The Death of Hope makes you thin and it steals your energy and grows things inside you that kill you. But then, some cancers were like this; caused by things that were meant to do good.”

  “Our people die of cancer,” Ruby said. “Some of the old. We know enough to find it in the young, though. If I got it now, I’d live.”

  Satyana shook her head.

  “What if I don’t eat any more of your food? What if I go away?”

  “That would have worked if you’d known before you came to live here. It’s too deep now. By the time the Death of Hope shows up—by the time it steals your energy, it’s really, really hard to fix. We’ll try. We’ll try very hard.”

  Ruby’s thoughts seemed to batter against a ball of pain that she couldn’t let come up yet. It felt so sharp it seemed to be physical, even though she’d just been giggling with Jali. She had been feeling better than she had been for a few days. But now . . . now there was a monster inside her that might come out and steal her joy, her strength. “Some of our children lived through it. I don’t remember the details, but Marcelle could tell you.” She wanted to clutch her stomach but she didn’t let herself.

  “What about the adults?”

  Ruby shook her head. “I don’t know. I have to sing. I’m going to sing and then we’re going to talk about this. Jali is going to be with me.”

  “She’s not sick?” Satyana asked.

  “No.” Ruby shook her head. “No, she’s always been thin.”

  “I’ll have the robot test her.”

  There was no time to think about any of this now. “Listen to me sing.” She could barely talk without collapsing. She stood up and stretched and breathed. “I have to sing before I think about this.”

  Satyana whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “It’ll be a good concert.” Ruby held her hand out to Satyana. “Come listen from backstage. But don’t tell Naveen. Not yet.”

  Satyana shook her head. “I have something else to do. Good luck.”

  “What happens next?”

  “The bot stays with you and it starts treatments.”

  Ruby forced her hands not to shake. “Will it hurt?”

  Satyana offered a small smile. “You already hurt.” She leaned in and gave Ruby a hug. Her arms were strong and she smelled like cinnamon and stim. “Go.”

  Ruby went.

  Exchange Four felt twice as big as Exchange Five. Spaceship crews wandered here and there, some with clear purpose and some gawking. Onor saw children and families and even a few people that looked old.

  They passed the job market, which was still half-open. Holographic pictures of spaceships spun above the aisles with open positions scrolling through the air under them. Onor leaned over to Evie and whispered in her ear. “We should remember this. There may be a day we need to get off the Deep.”

  “I’d love to get out of here.” Her gaze kept sweeping the crowd as if she could force Haric to emerge.

  The Jackman stared at his slate, trying to orient
it to the rows of booths. The Exchange felt so confusing that Onor was glad of Aleesi’s voice in his ear, saying, “Fourth booth on the left. Haric stopped and looked on his way in. Come back later though. First, find the last place. The Jackman has it as a bright yellow dot.”

  “What’s the fastest way to get there?”

  “Let The Jackman lead you. It will give him a focus and you need to learn your way around.”

  Yet another thing he liked about her; she taught them instead of telling them. Ix had been terrible at that.

  Onor glanced at the booth Aleesi had told them to come back to. Pendants shone and sparkled in artificial light, gold chains draped over leather bolsters, and at least three groups of customers eyed the merchandise. Evie pulled toward it, but Onor took her small hand in his. “Stay close. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Aleesi can help us find each other,” Evie hissed.

  “And if I lose you, Haric will kill me after we find him.”

  She glared at him and pulled her hand free, but she stayed near him.

  “Why are there so many more people here than at home?” Onor subvocalized.

  “Many are from visiting spaceships. The Deep is known for its shopping. People can buy everything from starship fuel to food to baubles they have no possible need for at the Exchanges of the Deep.”

  It took thirty minutes and two wrong turns to find the booth Aleesi was sending them to. At least twice, Onor became briefly convinced that they were being followed, but then the suspected follower turned away from them.

  When the Jackman looked up and said, “We’re there,” Onor and Evie stopped beside him and the three of them looked the booth over.

  “It’s not what I expected,” Onor said.

  The booth sold animals. Or more correctly, animal DNA, animal fetuses, and animals designed for specific purposes. A large, hoofed animal with a doleful face pulled a plow in one picture, a small cat-like animal sat on a man’s shoulder, looking ready to leap off and protect him, and a variety of small and fluffy beasts in an even bigger variety of colors followed children or cuddled with them on couches. A man stood behind the booth, feet planted, watching a small throng of customers. A few were children, apparently thoroughly engaged in looking through the entire catalog.

  Evie approached the booth, The Jackman and Onor right behind her. They stood behind the children, watching the catalog swing by. Onor subvocalized, “I should have been more interested in the cargo. I wouldn’t know if any of these came from the Fire.”

  “Ix is watching.”

  “Does it know?” Onor asked. “I didn’t think Naveen had copied all of its memories.”

  “It has many fragments of the Fire’s manifest.”

  Onor felt the weight of the things he didn’t understand.

  A tall woman wearing an open pressure suit and comfortable shoes that didn’t match it called two children back to her and walked away, leaving the booth momentarily empty of customers. Evie stepped up to the man, who offered a salesman’s broad smile. “What can I do for you?”

  Evie held up her slate and showed him a picture of Haric. “Have you seen this man?”

  A slight, dark look passed across the man’s face as his smile transformed to a blank look. “No, I have not seen him.”

  Evie brought up a video clip of Haric standing in front of the booth.

  Onor winced.

  “I cannot be expected to recall all of my customers.” He inclined his head. “May I show you anything?”

  Onor stepped in. “We’re interested in anything new. Perhaps items you’ve only had in your catalog for a few months?”

  The man smiled. He pulled up a picture of a cat-like creature with white fur. “Perhaps like this? It’s a new mutation of our best-selling children’s pet for spaceships. It trains easily and can take cold sleep.”

  Onor shook his head and said, “Thank you.” The man wasn’t going to show them anything, and now they’d announced their presence to everyone. He had expected Evie to do better, but he hadn’t remembered how young she was.

  He tugged on her arm, pulling her away from the booth. The Jackman followed, the look on his face sour. As soon as they were out of earshot, he leaned down toward Evie. “Don’t tell them what you want.”

  She turned to face him. “Then how will we find anything out?”

  “Build trust first and try to wheedle clues out of people.”

  “That will take forever.”

  The Jackman sighed. “Better that than alerting your quarry with direct requests. They’ve no reason to trust us.”

  “Or we them,” she shot back.

  “But we’re the ones who need something they have.”

  Evie looked daggers at The Jackman, but she nodded.

  They learned nothing more at the next five booths. After the fifth booth—one that sold rare minerals in large and expensive lots, The Jackman suggested, “Let’s take a break and stop for something to eat.”

  Evie had taken to staring at the ground. “I don’t want to stop. I want to find Haric.”

  Onor said, “I need fuel to keep going.”

  “Besides,” The Jackman said, “It’s dinnertime. Maybe we can find a place playing Ruby’s concert.”

  “That means the Exchange is going to close soon.” Evie looked depleted.

  “Where is the closest food?” Onor asked Aleesi.

  A few beats of silence passed before she answered, long enough for Onor to realize he hadn’t actually heard from the robot spider girl for some time. “I have news.”

  “Yes?” Evie slipped up and spoke out loud.

  “Haric is in the Brawl. He was checked in two hours ago.”

  The Jackman cursed out loud and then muttered, “For what?”

  “For being here without permission. No one from the Fire is cleared for this section of the ship.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Onor said.

  “No one ever told you. It may be something you can use against Koren.”

  “Another thing,” Onor muttered.

  The Jackman looked alarmed. “That means it’s not legal for us to be here.”

  “Who cares,” Evie said. “Don’t we want to get caught? Then we’ll be with Haric.”

  “I can tell people where you are,” Aleesi said.

  “Why hasn’t anyone caught us yet?” Onor mused.

  “They don’t think you know anything,” Aleesi said.

  “So they think Haric does?”

  “We’ve got to go,” Onor said. “We can check into the Brawl, right?”

  Evie looked hopeful and The Jackman shook his head.

  She frowned at the older man. “It’s better than getting thrown in.”

  Onor stiffened. “He’s not going to be easy to find in there.”

  “We have to look!”

  The Jackman said, “I’m not going.”

  Evie looked aghast. “Why not?”

  “Someone’s got to stay free to pull you out. Besides, I need to tell the others.”

  “Aleesi will tell people,” she said.

  The Jackman just looked at her and shook his head.

  Onor looked at Evie’s desperate face and said, “I’ll go. Let’s buy something to eat.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “You’re not going to be able to get food later.” He took her arm, pulling her gently toward the food aisles.

  She resisted him, and then gave in with a disapproving sigh.

  Behind them, The Jackman muttered, “Fools and children. You’ll get yourselves killed.”

  Ruby stood at the edge of the stage and stared out at the crowd. She tried to drink in their energy, to fill with it so she could burst into voice and give it back to the people who had come to hear her. There was nothing. No, that wasn’t right. It almost felt like a wall stood between her and them. She took a deep breath and held her hands together in front of her. She lifted her head. “Good evening.”

  A few polite claps.

 
“I’m sorry I was late. I’ve just heard that there . . . there may . . . maybe I will have to learn some new things. But now, I’m going to sing for you. This evening, I’m going to start with something simple. A lullaby. This is what we sang to the babies who fretted at night, and sometimes to the old as they neared the end of their lives.”

  Her stomach still hurt, but she told herself it was imaginary. Pain was the past, it might even be the future. But it could not be now.

  It helped.

  A little.

  She opened her mouth and started singing.

  Singing the lullaby drove the soft words and the comfort that she had to send into her voice through her whole body, soothing away a layer of fear. Underneath the fear, anger bubbled. After the lullaby swelled to its slow end, Ruby stepped as close to the edge of the stage as she dared. The song had cracked the wall between her and the audience, giving her back a sense of them. They wanted something stronger and deeper. “Now that we’ve calmed down, are we ready to wake up?”

  A faint chorus of “yes” and “yes” and “sure” tickled her ears.

  “That’s not enough. Are you ready?”

  “Yes!”

  “Really ready?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then let’s have a night of revolution!” She moved into “The Owl’s Song.”

  The audience went with her, singing the chorus, standing on their feet.

  She didn’t take a break. She sang every song she’d ever written, from beginning to end. She saved the Brawl song for last. She prepped them for it. “Ready to Brawl!”

  “Ready!”

  “Ready to change!”

  “Ready!”

  “Ready for the song!”

  “Ready!”

  She had kept her anger through all of the songs, the anger mixed up with the pain in her stomach. It had driven her past and through her exhaustion. As she prepared to start the Brawl song, she felt anger thicken her spine, felt it in her feet and the top of her head, as if the anger flowed in and through her and out into the hall, a raw arc of emotion between her and the people watching her. Her anger at the universe for making her sick, her anger at Satyana for telling her, at the robot for finding it, at herself for not seeing it, for not knowing. She let her anger at the whole mess ride inside of her and she threw the feeling into the words.