Starswept

by Mary Fan

  “Ona sui botsel nur.” I won’t forget. Dámiul’s eyelids fall shut, and he collapses onto the table.

  The holovid flickers out. Jaerin’s gaze is fixed on the ground beside him.

  Atikéa shakes her head, her mouth open in horror. She whispers something to Jaerin, and I only make out the last words: “On’en sui clogamo.” I will help you.

  I turn to Cara, wondering if she knows more about what’s going on between them.

  Cara leans toward me. “Jaerin wants to break Dámiul out of the reeducation center, and he needs Atikéa’s underground connections to pull it off. She kept refusing because she didn’t want him to do anything rash while Dámiul’s case was still in appeals. I guess she’s changed her mind now that she’s seen what they’re putting Dámiul through.”

  “This record is from weeks ago.” Jaerin voice sounds strained. I turn to see his eyes fixed on me. “The holovid was taken shortly after he was sentenced. I don’t know how much they’ve put him through since then, but I can’t let it go on any longer.”

  Weeks. That means I probably spoke with him after he went through the hell I witnessed. Is that what he was escaping from when he said I was his sanctuary? “When we communicated through the Zexa device, he seemed… fine.”

  Jaerin gets up and walks around the table toward me. “What did he say to you?”

  I summarize my interactions with Dámiul—well, the parts about mind training and his disgruntlement toward Papilio. I finish by telling him how I last saw Dámiul three days before the Zexa device was taken from me.

  Jaerin looks down at me with a contemplative expression. “He would have mapped the Zexa device to his brain to use it telepathically, though…” He presses his lips together.

  “Though what?” I ask.

  “The reeducation centers sometimes use brain implants when a prisoner is especially stubborn. Judging from what we’ve just seen, Dámiul would qualify. Those implants would have broken his connection with the Zexa device. Even if I get him out, they might have already erased who he is.”

  Atikéa approaches him. “Memories can be recovered.”

  “Only if he remembers in time!” Jaerin whirls toward her. “What if I’m already too late? What if whatever blank slate they replaced his mind with has already overridden the brother I know? Contuk fuzettin!”

  Atikéa puts her hand on his arm and speaks soothingly.

  I rub my eyes furiously, trying to make the tears stop. I can’t believe it. Dámiul is so close, in the same city as I am, and yet, I might have lost him anyway. If only he’d told me! Did he think I would shun him for being a prisoner?

  I look up at Jaerin. “Can I help?”

  Jaerin tries to smile, but it falters. “Just be here when I get Dámiul out. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

  Atikéa turns to Cara. “I’m afraid our other plans for the Ka’risil will have to wait.”

  Cara cocks her eyebrow. “Put our entire mission on hold for one person? What kind of strategy is that?”

  “It’s not a strategy,” Atikéa murmurs.

  “Then why—”

  “Because that’s my little brother they’re torturing.” Jaerin interrupts Cara’s question. “I have to get him out.”

  Cara puts her hands on her hips. “Oh, so he matters more than all of us?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Jaerin sighs. “You’ve never had a family, so I don’t expect you to understand. But please, try.”

  Cara’s irritated expression remains, but she doesn’t argue. Jaerin and Atikéa leave the room. My mind feels like a hurricane blew through it. First, I learned that my entire life was a lie, and now, I find out that the boy who captured my imagination, then captured my heart, might have had his mind erased.

  “How can they do this?” I say. “I thought the Adryil were supposed to be… peaceful.”

  Cara lets out a humorless laugh. “Oh, they’re perfectly nice, as long as you listen to them. The Ydayas are nice enough to us, aren’t they? You can’t say they’re abusing us or anything. Speaking of which…” She glances at her watch. “We should probably start heading back. Normally, I’d stay another hour or two, but I figure it’s your first time out, and I don’t want you to be too sleepy on the return trip, with all the climbing and everything.”

  Sleep is the last thing I’m capable of right now, but I suppose with Atikéa and Jaerin gone and no other Abolitionists in sight, there’s no sense in us lingering here. “What do you usually do out here?”

  “Strategize, mostly.” Cara stands and walks to the door. “Decide which Ka’risil we can trust with the truth. Pass around Adryil language tablets so the Earthlings won’t be so lost. Cook up ways to convince Ka’risil owners that what they’re doing is wrong. Nothing dramatic—well, until Jaerin decided to try busting his darling brother out of jail.” She rolls her eyes. “Not the usual kind of mission.”

  I walk beside her, and we cross the wide room leading to the exit. “What can I do to help?”

  “For now? Just learn Adryil. I’ve already scouted the other Ka’risil in our quarters. They’re all too ingrained in their ways to join us.” Cara presses a pad by the door, which slides down into the ground. “There aren’t that many of us Abolitionists. Atikéa has a plan to infiltrate more Ka’risil quarters, but I guess that has to wait until Dámiul’s out. Someday, we’ll shut down TalentCorp and all the other slavers. I don’t know how, but it’s going to happen.”

  I look back at the dingy underground complex that serves as the Abolitionists’ headquarters. It’s such a contrast to the high-tech school TalentCorp built. From the looks of things, we don’t stand a chance.

  But we have to win. We can’t let the Adryil keep controlling people. Dámiul said that individuals aren’t valued on Adrye as they are on Earth, but I never imagined his kind would go so far as to erase people.

  Cara tucks her Grámed device under her hair. “Put yours on.”

  I pull my device out of my pocket and place it over my head, protecting the one thing I used to believe would always be mine: my thoughts.

  CHAPTER 28

  I’M GLAD THE YDAYAS HAVE scheduled more frequent performances for us. Surrounding myself with beautiful string harmonies is the only way I can keep calm. The tension of the past few days since I returned from meeting Atikéa and Jaerin is driving me insane. There’s so much I want to do, and yet I’m stuck here, uselessly scratching at a wooden instrument.

  I finish the phrase and lift my bow, then start counting out a ten-measure rest. An orange glimmer catches my eye, and I glance up to see the Ydayas. Mistress Ydaya, in a rich coral dress, hooks her arm around Master Ydaya’s and surveys us. I move my hair over my right shoulder, hoping it looks like I’m just clearing it away from my instrument. I wish my locks were as thick as Cara’s. She doesn’t need to put any effort into hiding her Grámed device.

  Mistress Ydaya says something to her husband. I catch the words “Ka’risil,” “Papilio,” and “zaro,” which means “new.” I force my eyes back to the music so I won’t forget to come in and do my best not to jitter. New Ka’risil… Cara said the Ydayas went to the last Spectacle to get a dancer. A far-fetched but irresistible hope lights within me. Milo…

  I don’t know whether him coming to Adrye would be a good thing, but it seems no matter which path his life takes, he will always belong to TalentCorp. At least if he’s here with me, I’ll have a chance to undo the damage Erayet or another liaison does. I’ve spent ages mulling over his fate, but though him aging out on Earth is his best chance at keeping his memories, the sense of failure would tear him apart. I don’t think he’d make it that far anyway. He’d drop out first—and be trapped in a life of hollow misery like Phers. Please, Milo, give yourself another chance with the Ballet…

  Hearing my cue to rejoin the quartet, I force myself to concentrate on what I’m doing. I strike the last few chords in time with the others, then lower my instrument.

  Mistress Ydaya eyes me from below t
he stage. “Well done, Quartet. You may take a five-minute break.” She lifts a finger and beckons me.

  What’s going on? I get up and nervously walk to the stairs. Cara gives me a questioning look, then flicks her hair. I recognize the gesture as her telling me to make sure my Grámed device is covered up and fan out the hair falling down my back.

  I approach Mistress Ydaya, nervously clutching my viola. “Yes, ma’am?”

  Mistress Ydaya narrows her eyes. “Why were you watching me?”

  “I heard you say ‘Papilio,’ and I was curious.” I widen my eyes, trying to look as innocent as possible.

  “Oh, sweet girl. You’re curious about your old school, aren’t you?”

  I nod mutely.

  “You used to accompany dancers in the orchestra pit.” Mistress Ydaya gives me an appraising look. “Is it different from performing in an ensemble?”

  “Not really. You just have to pay attention to their tempo during rehearsals.” Hoping to plant a suggestion without sounding too forward, I say, “I miss the Pit. It was such fun collaborating with other Artists, especially ballet dancers. They’re so beautiful, and seeing their movements helped me interpret the music better.” My heartbeat speeds up. Could this work?

  Mistress Ydaya unhooks her arm from her husband’s and raises her eyebrows at him. “Even the little one knows that Ka’risil perform better when exposed to other Arts. We’ve kept a quartet for so long, I think you’ve forgotten that most patrons employ a variety of Ka’risil. We were the only household in Nathril that had only a quartet to contribute to last month’s gala! It was downright embarrassing. I told all our friends I would have more for the next event, and I intend to keep my word.”

  Master Ydaya grumbles, and I recognize the word for “value.” If they’re discussing what I think they are, then this is my chance to bring Milo here, where I can look after him. Mistress Ydaya seems to like me as a special favorite—maybe I can use that.

  I consider my next words. Mistress Ydaya said my curiosity made me unique. She probably won’t mind a few harmless-sounding questions. “Are we going to be accompanying dancers?”

  Mistress Ydaya smiles slightly. “We are considering hiring more Ka’risil. You could have more Earthlings your age to play with. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  Her condescension makes me want to grimace, but I keep my expression innocent. “That would be wonderful. Will they be from Papilio?”

  Mistress Ydaya narrows her eyes. She’s probably probing my mind for my intentions. I’m glad I have the Grámed device to block her. Apparently satisfied that I’m not thinking any conspiratorial thoughts, she relaxes her expression. “That depends on if any Papilians are worthy of our patronage.”

  “Of course.” I lower my gaze, figuring I shouldn’t say anything else unless prompted.

  Mistress Ydaya holds up her wrist device, and a holographic portrait of Nikolai appears. She speaks coolly to Master Ydaya, and I recognize the word for “best.”

  I press my lips together, hoping my face doesn’t betray my nervousness. If it’s the best she wants, would she even consider Milo after the lukewarm Spectacle reviews?

  Master Ydaya grumbles, and the word for “value” is mentioned again. His eyes flick down a line of holographic icons to the left of the portrait projected from Mistress Ydaya’s device. A hologram of another boy dancer, whom I recognize from the corps de ballet, appears. Mistress Ydaya shakes her head and speaks in an exasperated voice. Master Ydaya points at a string of numbers below the dancer’s portrait—I’m guessing it’s either his ranking or his price.

  Price. The idea makes me uncomfortable, and I try not to cringe. The Ydayas must be arguing over how much to bid on the new dancer Mistress Ydaya wants, with Mistress Ydaya desiring the best and Master Ydaya aiming for the cheapest. They might as well be discussing the purchase of a new piece of furniture.

  Mistress Ydaya waves her hand at me in a dismissive gesture. “Go back to the others.”

  I turn to leave, but then a hologram of Milo replaces Nikolai. I stop, and a sense of relief courses through me. If he’s on the list of Ka’risil, at least I know he didn’t drop out. And it means he wants to come to Adrye.

  Mistress Ydaya catches my eye. “Still there, little one? What are you looking at?”

  Despite the tension gripping me, I have to take a chance for Milo’s sake. I brighten my expression. “I knew those dancers. Nikolai had the highest ranking among the boys, but everyone knew Milo was better. The only reason Milo’s ranking was lower was because he got nervous before the last Spectacle.” That’s not entirely true, but if Master Ydaya is grumbling about value, maybe I can convince him and Mistress Ydaya that Milo is a bargain.

  Bargain… How could I call him that? I stifle the thought. Outrage won’t help my cause. “I’ve seen Milo dance much better than Nikolai in rehearsals.”

  Master Ydaya shifts his gaze toward me. “Indeed?”

  “Oh, yes.” I keep my tone as casual as I can. Just sound clueless. “Even Mistress Duval thought so. She often asked Nikolai why he couldn’t be more like Milo. But Milo was worried about his first Spectacle with Sabina as his partner, and he didn’t do his best. We were all disappointed when his ranking dropped. I’m sure it will climb again after the next show.”

  Mistress Ydaya regards the portrait of Milo. She pats me on the head, and I pray that she won’t stroke my hair and realize there’s something beneath it. “Run along.”

  I return to the stage, wondering if there’s something else I could have said to convince her to bring Milo here.

  Although my mandatory practice time ended a few minutes ago, I keep playing. Working on “Archangel Ascendant” is the only way to quiet my mind. I repeat a particularly tricky phrase in the song, focusing on the notes only.

  The door slides open, and Cara slips in. She waits for the door to close, then turns toward me. “If Puna comes in and asks what we’re doing, we’re just chatting about dresses and shoes. You know, girl talk.”

  I put my viola down and approach her. “Right. As usual.”

  Cara leans against the wall. “What was all that with the Ydayas this afternoon?”

  I tell Cara how Mistress Ydaya’s interest in dancers might mean she’ll buy Milo, who I miss more than I care to think about.

  Cara raises one eyebrow. “So you’re pimping out your friend? Nice.”

  I open my mouth in indignation. “That’s not how it is! I just… I don’t know what else to do! I can’t send him a message, I can’t return to Papilio—if it were up to them, I would forget him, but I won’t do that. At least if the Ydayas bring him here, I can look out for him. Maybe even keep him from forgetting his family.”

  Cara pulls her lips in. “You’ve actually got a decent shot of seeing your bright-eyed fantasy come true. Mistress Ydaya has been talking about expanding her collection of Ka’risil for months. From what I’ve overheard, she and Master Ydaya recently made a killing off some business deal, and they’re pretty much rolling in riches. That’s why Mistress Ydaya was willing to splurge on the must-have Artist of the last Spectacle. You were freaking expensive.”

  A hint of pride at my skills being worth so much rises within me, but almost immediately, a sense of disgust at myself deflates it. I’m not a knickknack to be valued with money. Yet being so prized, even in this twisted way, feels like the recognition I always yearned for.

  “Do the Adryil… um… buy Ka’risil from the same schools often?” I ask.

  “Yeah, it’s easier for them to just pick up a collection from their favorite vendors. The original quartet—Temir, Andreas, Alan, and the guy I replaced—all came from Papilio at the same time.” Cara shifts her weight. “In fact, they were friends and pretty thrilled that they were all sponsored by the same patrons.”

  Seeing a troubled look in her eyes, I ask, “Is something wrong?”

  “Nah.” Cara picks up a lock of hair and fiddles with it. “You’re lucky you remember someone you left behind enough to st
ill care about him. I remember names and faces, but not much else. By the time Alan gave me a Grámed device, I’d already lost most of my personal memories, and it was too late to get any back.”

  Not knowing how else to respond, I say softly, “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?” Cara scoffs. “I don’t remember anyone, so it’s not like I miss them. Sometimes I think it’s better that way. This whole slavery thing bothers me enough as it is. I’m glad I don’t have to live with knowing people I care about are stuck in the system.” She splits her lips into a wry grin. “Come to think of it, I don’t care about anyone except Alan, and he’s gone. Sometimes, I think it would have been better if he’d let Puna brainwash me like the others. Then, at least I would fit in here, and I’d have something akin to friends.”

  I never thought to wonder what Cara’s life must have been like before I got here, or how hard it must have been for her to watch the one person she cared about be taken away. No wonder she hated me when I first arrived. “What about Atikéa and Jaerin?”

  Cara shrugs. “I guess they count. But I don’t see them very often, so most of the time, it’s just me and my violin.”

  “What about me?” I smile sheepishly. “Do I count?”

  She gives me a funny look. “Let’s face it. We only spend time together because we’ve got a shared place and a shared cause. If I’d encountered you at Sinfonia, I wouldn’t have spoken two words to you.”

  Back when I first met her, such talk from Cara would have bothered me. But now that I’ve gotten to know her, I can tell she’s not nearly as callous as she pretends to be. I give her an annoyed look. “Do you have to be so negative all the time?”

  Cara crosses her arms. “Hey, if I were a cute guy, you’d find my bad attitude hot.”

  Despite myself, I smile. I know what she’s talking about—plenty of girls back at Papilio seemed intent on chasing boys who were jerks to them. “I don’t think so.”

  “Then you’re smarter than the giggling ditzes back at school.” Cara tilts her head, as though seeing me in a new light. “Okay, sure, I guess you count as a friend.” She tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder. “Well, I hope if this Milo of yours comes here, he’ll have enough of his memories left to remember who you are.”