Awakening on Orbis

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Awakening on Orbis Page 4

by P. J. Haarsma


  The streets were clogged with aliens as scruffy-looking as the tiny trading chambers wedged together, some even built right on top of one another. I saw stuff for sale that wasn’t much better than the scraps we used to throw out at Weegin’s World. Max was right. If this was Murat, Murat was a dump. How do these aliens even survive? I wondered. I was waiting for an opening in the traffic of well-worn trams and smoking cargo hovers when I heard my name.

  “Johnny Turnbull!”

  I spun around and saw a Keeper disembarking from one of those circular fliers.

  “Drapling?”

  “How are you, child?” Drapling said, rushing toward me.

  Drapling was my least favorite Keeper. From the moment I met him on Orbis 1, he had treated us humans with such contempt that I had always tried to avoid him. But then he had changed. It started after the staining on Orbis 2. Now Drapling was . . . well, nice. Almost too nice. I wondered if he’d known about Ketheria and me back then. Did he have to be nice to us now for some reason? I didn’t know, and I knew he would never tell me. Drapling was just like everyone else. Despite his new friendly attitude, he still had that look on his face and that slight pause before he spoke, as if he were going over some list of rules in his head, deciding what information he could divulge without really telling me anything.

  “Hi, Drapling,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Someone informed me of your misfortune,” he said as his left head smiled.

  “Someone? How did you find me?”

  Drapling held up a small device, cradling it in his long bluish fingers. “I told you the staining would help us protect you.”

  “From whom?” I mumbled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Drapling, I’m sure you must have better things to do than chase an errant knudnik around the rings. Besides, what are you doing on Orbis 4, anyway?”

  Drapling was next to me now. He was trying to shake his left head, but it just sort of wobbled. He wasn’t that good at Earth gestures. “Keepers spend most of their time on this ring,” he said. “You have no idea about our work on this ring, do you?”

  “So we’re on Orbis 4?”

  “Yes. Let me show you what we do.”

  I felt awkward walking through the streets with Drapling, almost as if we were friends. He informed me that I was somewhere on the far side of Murat. He asked if I was hungry and how I’d gotten here. They were simple questions, nothing too probing, since I didn’t know myself. I asked him when Ketheria was coming.

  “Soon,” he replied.

  “That’s all you know?”

  “No one can say for sure. Remember, this is only the beginning of her awakening. It will take your sister a while to adjust to her new responsibilities. The Nagools will help her through each step. Ketheria will know when she is ready.”

  How my sister even had a clue about what was happening to her was beyond me.

  “Why here?” I said.

  “What do you mean?” Drapling replied.

  “Why this place? I mean, if Ketheria is going to be so important, why are they bringing her to a dump like Murat? Is it because of our work rule? Somehow I think Ketheria would be better served on a different ring.”

  “That is where you are wrong,” Drapling said. “Murat needs her the most, and it is here she will find her strongest advocates.”

  “You mean, this is the place with the most knudniks who are willing to give up what little they own to have an audience with her?”

  Drapling stopped and turned toward me. Both his heads were focused on me, and they were both frowning. “You know so little,” he whispered. “You have much to learn.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, but the funny thing is that no ones ever tells me the truth.”

  “Let us try to change that. Shall we start here?” Drapling said, gesturing toward a slanted glass building flanked by several impressive spires.

  “What happens here?”

  “I’ll show you,” he said, and stepped toward the building.

  The doors disappeared, and I followed Drapling inside. I noticed that the air in the building was much cooler, like in the Keepers’ home below Magna. Even the glass walls changed the light to a bluish color similar to the tone down in the caverns. I saw dozens of Keepers strolling across the atrium and even more knudniks waiting on narrow benches that lined the long room.

  “When their work rules are completed, many former knudniks are unable to adapt to the Citizens’ way of life. We help arrange passage for them through the wormhole. This allows them to find another planet more suited to their needs.”

  “So you just get rid of them?”

  “The Descendants of Light struggle every cycle to improve the living conditions of new Citizens. Some don’t want to leave, and we help them as well.”

  I looked at the aliens sitting, waiting. Would that be me at the end of the rotation? Assuming the Citizens declare my work rule finished, that is. Each alien looked either worried or just plain exhausted. Had they failed? Was their dream to live as Citizens on the Rings of Orbis simply a bust?

  “So if I understand this correctly, the Trading Council makes promises of a better life to lure knudniks here, but it’s a promise they never plan to keep. When these individuals learn they’ve been lied to, you ship them off to another world. Problem solved.” I turned to Drapling. “Do you like doing the Council’s dirty work?”

  “Your judgment is too harsh. It is quite expensive to live on the Rings of Orbis, despite our best efforts. Many Citizens are descendants of the First Families, and their wealth is, well, unimaginable. It makes it impossible for the newcomers to compete.”

  “Or maybe the Citizens just like it that way. Isn’t it true that when you become a Citizen, you receive a percentage of the proceeds from the crystals harvested from the moon?” I said.

  “That is correct, but before you can receive your share, you must first establish a place of residence and prove to the Trading Council that you are a stable and contributing member of this society.”

  “So then the other Citizens aren’t too big on sharing what they have with these new Citizens, especially the ones who used to slave for them.”

  Drapling looked at me but said nothing. Then he leaned in and whispered to me, “Some observations are better kept to oneself. Especially since there is a new Scion on the horizon.” He nudged me toward the door and then in a louder tone said, “You know, many of those who want to stay on the rings reapply for work rule. I admit the circumstances are slightly different, but it does give the new Citizens more time to establish their residency.”

  “You mean they volunteer to be knudniks again?” I was astonished.

  “Queykay is one such alien,” Drapling informed me. “The rules become a little blurred at times, but look at Queykay. He is a very respected Citizen on the rings now. He even sits on the Trading Council, and he was once a knudnik, just like you.”

  I still didn’t like him any better.

  “But despite the success of a few individuals like Queykay, many do struggle. I cannot deny that, but Ketheria will change everything.” Drapling was whispering again. “She will give us hope. She can restore the dream that was the Rings of Orbis. This is where she belongs.”

  “You mean them,” I corrected him.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said she would give us hope. Don’t you mean them?” I said, pointing to the aliens on the benches. “I think the Keepers already have it pretty good around here. How can the Scion help the Keepers?”

  “I believe I was referring to the work class here on the rings. You must be mistaken.”

  He said us. I was sure of it.

  He lifted his hand toward the exit. I took this as my cue to leave.

  “If you ever find yourself lost, I want you to know that you can come here,” he said. “And if you are ever in trouble, please tell your friend in the computer to find me. I will come immediately.”

  I looked at Drapling as
he walked ahead of me back onto the streets of Murat. He was up to something.

  “Drapling?”

  He stopped and turned. “Yes?”

  “What are you up to? What do you want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s face it. When we first met, you were not this nice to me, or to any of us, for that matter. Does this have anything to do with Ketheria?”

  “How can you say that? I remember several instances where my actions displayed nothing but kindness toward you.”

  “Yeah, ever since the staining. Is that when you realized Ketheria was the Scion? What are you trying to get from us?”

  “You are forgetting Odran’s. Do you not remember my concern for your well-being when Odran forced you into the crystal-cooling tank? That was well before your staining.”

  “But you still let me get inside,” I reminded him.

  “The sanctity of the rings was at stake. Everyone was at risk, not just you.”

  Boy, he was good at lying.

  “JT!”

  I turned and saw Max waving at me from across the street. I was glad that I was feeling better. Theodore and the others were marching down a narrow path that separated the stacks of trading chambers. I must admit that they were an imposing group dressed in their matching robes.

  “Your friends can show you the way home, JT,” Drapling said.

  “Thanks for your help, Drapling.”

  “Remember, do not hesitate to contact me if you need anything,” he said, and then he slipped away.

  “What are you doing here?” Theodore asked. “And was that Drapling?”

  “It’s a long story. What are you guys doing?”

  “We’re all done,” Max exclaimed, holding up an empty sack. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  “We don’t have any money,” I said.

  “Wait until you see what these robes can get us.”

  Max led us to a narrow eating-house a few streets away. Tables were constructed from scraps of metal that looked like they were torn right off one of the shuttles.

  “Far cry from the Earth News Café, huh?” Theodore whispered.

  “Yeah, but the food’s good,” one of the other kids remarked.

  “I still don’t know how we’re going to pay,” I said.

  “Watch and learn,” Max boasted.

  After we entered the café, an alien leaped out from behind the tiled counter. “You’re back! I’m honored,” he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “Do you see who my café attracts?” he added, addressing the other patrons. “Sit, sit! I will bring you my finest dish. No charge. Nothing but the best for those who share their existence with the Scion.”

  I was attempting to decipher the café’s odd odor — pungent spices mixed with a strong detergent — when the round little alien spotted me. His mouth hung open and he pushed past the other kids. The alien dropped to his knees and began rubbing my feet with his thick hands. He was mumbling something, but I couldn’t understand a word.

  “Please don’t do that,” I whispered.

  The alien bolted upright and said, “Whatever you ask me, I will do. Please sit. I, Kasha, will serve you personally.”

  He led me to a seat near the front and shoved a patron off one of the short stools. He cleared the table with the sweep of his hand. Everyone in the café turned and looked.

  “Dodu! Clean this mess!” he shouted, and an alien appeared at his side, snatching the broken dishes off the floor.

  “Is this comfortable for you?” Kasha asked me.

  “Please don’t do this,” I told him. “Please don’t make a fuss.” He saw me looking at the other patrons.

  “I understand. The Tonat wishes to have privacy. I will respect this.” Kasha stood up and clapped his hands. Four aliens rushed from the back, dragging metal stands, each draped with purple cloth. Kasha directed them to place the dividers around my table. I only groaned and shook my head.

  “You’re coming out with us more often,” Theodore gushed, stepping around the cloth dividers with the others.

  I looked at Max. Her pained expression rattled me more than the café’s odor.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to her.

  “It’s not your fault,” she mumbled.

  “Are you crazy?” one of the kids said, eavesdropping on our conversation. “You’ve got it made here, JT.”

  “Shut up,” I told him.

  Max sat to my right while Theodore sat across from me. Grace dragged a stool across the floor and squeezed next to Max. She and Max had grown closer, ever since Grace started hanging out with the tall boy with black hair. I couldn’t remember his name because he was always changing it. Even on the Renaissance he was always trying different names, the same way Ketheria would rummage through other people’s clothes and try on different shirts.

  The other kids were also trying to squeeze through the dividers, and the table was getting a little crowded.

  “This is ridiculous,” I said, standing up and pushing back the dividers.

  Kasha flew to my side, wringing his hands. “Is something wrong?” he gasped.

  “We don’t need these, Kasha. Thank you, but we can eat without them,” I told him.

  “As you wish.” Kasha clapped his hands once more. The aliens returned and dragged the barriers away, scraping the metal against the concrete floor. Some of the other patrons were staring now. Not my favorite feeling in the world, that’s for sure.

  I sat back down. “A lot of people on Murat act like him,” Theodore pointed out.

  “It’s weird. I don’t like it,” I told him.

  “Better get used to it,” Grace said. “Especially when Ketheria gets here.”

  That worried me even more.

  “Forget Kasha. I’m just glad you were feeling well enough to join us,” Max said, slipping her hand onto my knee. My mind became focused on her warm touch. “How did you find us?”

  “I jumped here. Can you believe it?”

  “What?” she said, pulling her hand off my knee. The empty space now felt like a hole in my leg.

  “Wait, it’s not like that. It was an accident.”

  “Well, you’re acting like it’s golden to be one of those vile mercenaries.”

  “No, I’m not,” I pleaded. “You know I don’t want to be a Space Jumper. I told them, no way. You have to believe me. I told the Keepers. I told Hach. I told everyone. I didn’t try to jump. I couldn’t control it.”

  “I believe you, but do you really think the Citizens on the rings will? Do you think they’re just going to let you pop around the rings as you please? You know how they feel about Space Jumpers around here. If someone sees you and complains, you’ll be banished for sure, whether you say you’re a Space Jumper or not.”

  I never thought about that. “I guess you’re right,” I mumbled. I was staring at my feet. How could I have been so stupid? If I were banished, I would never see Max again.

  “You have to start thinking like that, JT. We’re still knudniks.”

  “I’m the last person you have to remind.”

  “Really?”

  I looked up at Max, but she was already talking to Grace as if the two of them had been in conversation the entire spoke. Max hated anything to do with space jumping, especially when it involved me.

  “What do you mean by ‘an accident’?” Theodore asked.

  I turned to Theodore and sighed. “It was weird,” I said. “I was roaming around in the dark, trying to find some sort of control panel, when I bumped into something and the next thing I knew I was at the back of some trading chamber in Murat.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t try to jump, it just happened,” I whispered.

  “You better get that looked at.”

  “Get what looked at? It’s not like I have some sort of switch that I turn on and off. I don’t even have a belt.”

  I sat back as Kasha and the others arrived with bowls of steaming liquid a
nd placed them in front of us. I could see chunks of meat and vegetables bobbing in the brown stew. It smelled like cinnamon and apples.

  “This is the dish my father served to me as a boy. An ancient recipe my people share during the Hudshuka. Now I make it for you. Please, enjoy!” Kasha exclaimed.

  Kasha passed out an assortment of mismatched spoons, one to each of us, and then crowded in next to me. He was grinning wildly, waiting for me to try his dish. I only asked the Universe that it would taste as good as it smelled.

  I dipped the spoon into the bowl and scooped up the broth, trying to avoid the chunks of meat until I knew what they were. I lifted the spoon to my lips, blowing on it gently. Kasha leaned in even closer as I tasted it. It was sweet with a meaty thickness. I liked it. I smiled and nodded to Kasha. “It’s good,” I told him. “Really good. Thank you.”

  Kasha bolted upright and clapped his hands. “He likes it! He really likes it! The Tonat likes my hudspa. The Tonat is eating at my café. I will rename this dish after the Tonat,” he cried, turning back toward me.

  “I am not the Tonat,” I seethed through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t understand. You are the Tonat. You will be the greatest Space Jumper ever to step on these rings, and you ate my food.”

  “I am not the Tonat!” I yelled. I felt my face flush with rage. Kasha was staring at me. “Stop looking at me!” I slammed my fists on the table.

  And then I was gone — again.

  I tumbled backward onto a soft patch of grass and leaves, my hands still ringing from the contact with Kasha’s table.

  “This is ridiculous!” I screamed, and fell back onto the ground. It was darker here, wherever here was. I looked up at the lights sparkling on the far side of the ring. Was that Murat? There were more patches of twinkling lights spread across the ring but none in the vicinity of where I landed. Where was I now?

  “Vairocina!”

  Drapling sent a small shuttle to pick me up. By the time I arrived back home, everyone was already sleeping.

  “That’s a nasty tic you’ve picked up. I hope you don’t make it a habit,” said Queykay, stepping out from the shadows.

 

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