by Rebecca Rode
“I thought you wanted to stay away from me.”
His smile faded. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You feel guilty. You feel responsible for me being stuck here. Is that it?”
“No. Well, yes, but—”
“If you’re worried I’m mad at you, just forget it. Go impress your friends and pass their tests and become a better flicker than your brother. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
His thick eyebrows drew together in a grimace. “Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want anyone to know about Adam? From the moment they dragged you onto the ship, my friends haven’t stopped asking me questions.” He released a long breath, then spoke more slowly. “Look, I’m not here to impress anyone, Ember. I’m here because I want to serve the Empire. Because I believe in it. The Empire isn’t perfect, but it’s better than the way things were before.”
“It’s better for you. Not for everyone.”
“You honestly believe Earth would be better off without the Empire? It wouldn’t even exist. The scavengers would have destroyed it long ago.”
Stefan knew more about her planet than she’d guessed, but she wasn’t ready to give in yet. “They don’t come around very often. We could fight them off if the Empire would allow us weapons.”
“I thought you were a peaceful people. That’s what the info screens say.” He cocked his head. “Although having known you a few days, I’d say that couldn’t be further off.”
“Very funny.” The door opened, but she hesitated. “Info screens, you say?”
His defensiveness went back up. “I looked up the history of your people last night. I needed some good reading.”
Interesting. She couldn’t help but wonder what the Empire thought of the Roma people. Ember knew a little of her own town’s history, but it was hard to get specifics from the elder Roma. All she knew was that the Roma had been left behind during the great exodus. Once everyone left, they had traveled from the desert to the coast, where the land was more fertile. They’d taken over the agricultural buildings and now grew their own food, but their fertile land and freshwater were growing more scarce as Empire’s restrictions grew.
“So the info screens are on the recreation deck?” she prodded.
“I thought that might catch your attention. If you meet me tonight, I’ll show you how they work.” He sighed. “Well, I have something right after dinner, so let’s meet there around 20:00, if you think you’ll be up to it. Deck 59. There should still be screens available that early. If we wait until later, the gamers will stake their claim and play all night.”
She nodded despite herself. “Fine.” If these info screens had information about her people, maybe they had current news as well. “And thanks for the tip about the shipping department. I didn’t think you’d actually help me.”
“Help you? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He threw her a mischievous grin. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”
Deck thirty-three looked just like every other deck until Ember reached the central packaging unit. The woman at the desk was on a call, talking so fast Ember could barely understand her. The lady thumbed through the virtual file hovering in front of her, its outline barely visible. She finally closed the call with a quick “Yes, ma’am” and turned to Ember, looking her up and down. “What?”
“I need to ship something,” Ember said.
“You’re a flicker.” The words darted out of her mouth so quickly Ember almost didn’t catch their meaning.
Ember raised an eyebrow, unsure what the woman wanted her to say. “Yes?”
“Officers don’t send flickers to run errands, so this must be a personal issue. This is a military station, with military personnel and vehicles. We don’t ship things for soldiers.”
“But—”
“I don’t care if your baby brother is dying or your best friend is committing suicide or your planet is about to explode. And believe me, I’ve heard it all. I can’t take whatever it is you want to send. You’ll have to wait for reassignment on a civilian planet. Some mercenary will be happy to take care of it for you.”
Ember took a deep, frustrated breath. “You don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t understand. Using military resources to send a personal package is illegal—against the law, punishable by imprisonment, unethical, and in nowise allowed. Now leave me to my work.” The woman turned back to the screen and began fumbling with it again.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Ember said quietly. “They kidnapped me. My father desperately needs this medicine on Earth. There must be something I can do.”
The woman tensed, her fingers pausing midair. “Did you say Earth?”
Ember nodded.
Fast-talking lady muttered something under her breath and began her fumbling again.
“Excuse me?”
“Talk to Ambrose,” she repeated, her voice barely audible. “Short, fat guy who comes in once a day. He hasn’t been in yet, so if you wait in the hall, you might catch him. Now stop looking so hopeful. There’s a camera above your head, you know.”
Ember let her shoulders slump as if disappointed, then turned toward the door. But inside her heart was leaping. Ambrose.
It was her smuggler—the one who visited Earth once a month for deliveries. Even better, he was still here. She was willing to forgive him for standing her up if it meant he could help her now. The man had a ship somewhere on this planet where he stored his illegal cargo. Surely there was enough space for her on that ship. And if he refused to take that risk, he could at least deliver Dai’s medicine for her until she got home.
Ember stood in the hallway for a while, bouncing on her toes and pacing to contain her excitement. After forty minutes, her frustration had ceased to become an act—she was supposed to meet Stefan any minute now. She could hear the woman inside bidding her coworkers farewell. The dock was closing for the night.
She checked her wristband for the sixtieth time and sighed. Another day wasted. Tomorrow would bring another test, another humiliation, another day under that dreadful man’s thumb. Ember had showered the moment she’d returned to her room, trying to wash the filth of his vision away, but she still felt the taint on her soul.
Ember would come back tomorrow. And the next day. Whatever it took to meet Ambrose, she would do it. He would make everything right.
She gave the shipping door one last look, then trotted toward the lift.
14
Ember was blasted with the sound of loud music as the lift opened onto the rec deck—at least she thought it was supposed to be music. It thumped through her soul in a harsh, sharp way. Not at all beautiful or poetic. The crowd mingled, bodies dancing to the sounds pumping through the wall speakers. And the way they combined themselves—it just seemed wrong. Men and women dancing together. They couldn’t all be married.
Ember scanned the room and found the info-screen booths on the opposite wall. She’d have to push through the crowd to get there. If Stefan was correct, the crowd would only get bigger—and drunker—as the night wore on. She didn’t see Stefan anywhere. If he was dancing, she’d never be able to distinguish his face from the hundreds of other faces under the colorful lights.
She stepped into the pool of writhing bodies, grimacing as she received an elbow to the face. Halfway through, someone stepped on her foot, but eventually she managed to reach the other side. The lighting here was blue, bathing everything in an eerie, cold hue. A few screens were set into the walls, and people sat in front of them, bizarre-looking goggles on their faces.
She chose an empty screen and sat but didn’t put the goggles on. Instead, she touched the screen.
“What can I do for you?” the automated woman’s voice said in Common. No language options, of course. A display of options appeared at her fingertips. She read through them slowly, wishing she’d practiced her Common a bit more thoroughly. Entertainment. Games. News. Music videos. Education. Research.
She tapped the
last one, and a huge menu appeared. She scanned through the items until one caught her eye. She selected it and sat back to watch, breathless. Was this really stored here for anyone to see?
The Exodus of Earth
Images appeared with text, and she leaned right up against the glass, trying to take it all in. She read as quickly as possible, absorbing all she could. Skimming through the names and dates, she looked for specific keywords. When they didn’t appear, she typed them into the search option, then sat back impatiently. The results came up immediately, and she opened them.
She began reading and snorted in disgust. “You’re kidding me.”
“You figured out how to work it,” Stefan said, carrying two drinks and handing her one. “I figured a Sansori was a safe bet. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you something else.” He sat beside her. “You’re looking up the history of your people?”
“This isn’t our history.” Her voice was hard, but she couldn’t help it. “At least, this isn’t the way it really happened.”
“Kind of hard to deny photos,” Stefan said, then took a long sip.
“This says everyone left because the planet was dying. This says a new world was found, a larger one with more freshwater and fertile land. It was better in every way, and everyone was invited, no matter their nationality or race.”
Stefan nodded. “That’s true. My great-great-grandfather was one of them. He left on the thirty-eighth ship.”
“This also says the Roma declined and opted to stay behind.” Ember said. “That’s not true. We tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let us.”
Stefan lowered his glass. “Is that what your people believe?”
“It’s what we know. They left us behind, refused to allow us passage. We moved to the coast and took over the abandoned agricultural buildings. It wasn’t until a celebrity visited and proclaimed our beach the best in the universe that tourists began coming back.” She frowned. “I don’t think you would find us well off, but compared to before, we have everything we need.”
“Funny how history depends on who’s telling it.” Stefan took another long sip. “My instructors always said Earth is a dying planet, that some groups are pushing to have it discontinued. That it requires too many Empire resources to protect. Even my dad thinks it’s too far and we need to consolidate our military forces, especially with the Union gaining power.”
Ember wasn’t surprised. Her father had grumbled about this a few times, and she’d heard tourists talk about it. But it was just talk. It had to be.
“And you?” she asked. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a fascinating planet with a beautiful history and culture. It needs to be preserved as a historical monument, if nothing else. I mean, most of the beings in the universe can trace their ancestry back to Earth.” He smiled and took another sip. “The land is a little harder and drier than on my planet, though. Gliesian ground is kind of soggy. You have to wear boots or a nasty fungus will get your toes. But it’s ideally placed, so the Empire favors it.”
“You don’t seem to miss it much.”
He shrugged. “It was never home to me, not really. The Empire took me to preflicker training pretty early. I don’t remember much before that—my parents talking, my mom tucking me into bed, playing with swamp bugs in the backyard. That kind of thing.”
“It’s the people you miss,” she said, thinking of Dai and Bianca. “Not necessarily the place. Didn’t your parents ever come visit you?”
He pressed his lips together, and she instantly felt bad for asking. She already knew the answer. She’d seen the way his parents looked at him, as if he were an untrained pet who had already disappointed them. It was the elder son they’d loved, the one who would ever remain perfect in their hearts. Not the struggling, grieving son who needed them most.
“Listen,” she began. “I’m sorry for what I said about your brother.”
His face darkened, but he ignored her apology and motioned to her glass. “It’s worth a try. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it’ll give you a nice buzz.”
Ember sniffed her glass, happy for the change of subject. It smelled of overripe pineapple and something salty. Satisfied, she stuck the straw inside and began to gulp it down. It wasn’t as strong as she liked, but it did have a pleasant, fruity taste. She quickly finished off the drink, then set the glass back on the desk.
Stefan’s eyes followed it. “Whoa. I’ve never seen someone chug a drink through a straw before.”
Ember scanned through the rest of the article and flipped through the last two mentions. No news. Everything was historical.
Finally she closed it and turned to Stefan. He seemed content to be with her today when yesterday he’d practically avoided her. What was his motive? If this truly was a competition, he had to have one.
“Is that all you wanted me to see?” she asked.
He sputtered. “Well, there’s a lot more to do than study history. You can play VR games on here. You just put the goggles on—”
She eyed the goggles with contempt.
“Or,” he said quickly, “I think there are a few card tables out there. Maybe a pool table or two.”
“A pool?” Ember asked, suddenly curious. She missed the feel of water on her skin. She’d even accept sitting next to the water, tasting it on the air. Mar had been right about that, at least. The lack of ocean simply felt wrong to a girl who swam whenever tourists weren’t around.
“Uh, no. It’s a game where you hit balls with long sticks. Water is too valuable a resource to waste letting people play in it. People would just steal it and bring it home.”
“Oh.” She swallowed her disappointment. “Are there musical instruments anywhere here?”
“Music,” he repeated, looking thoughtful. “As a matter of fact, yes. Follow me.”
He led her through the crowd, weaving easily around the dancers. It seemed everyone on the dance floor knew Stefan. A few of the women grinned invitingly when they saw him, but he just waved. They scowled when they noticed Ember at his side. She didn’t see Eris anywhere.
Ember froze at the sight of one of the dancing figures near the edge, a man. He was shorter than her and wore a beard that covered much of his neck, which made him stand out in the military crowd. She’d know that beard anywhere.
Ambrose.
Ember bolted toward the man and slid to a messy halt in front of him. “Ambrose! I need to talk to you.”
The man’s eyes widened, and he looked frantically around as if embarrassed his friends might hear. “Excuse me?”
She remembered where they were and leaned forward. “I need a favor. It’s urgent.”
“Do I know you?”
“Ember,” she hissed into his ear. “We’ve met several times, remember? I need you to take me to Earth, to the landing pad by the Roma village.”
“Roman? What are you talking about, girl? I can barely hear you.”
“The, uh, gypsy village. Can you take me there?”
The man’s eyes narrowed, and the woman dancing next to him finally realized they’d been interrupted. She stopped swaying and focused her gaze narrowly on Ember. “What’s going on?”
“Please,” Ember said. “It’s an emergency. I’ll give you all I have and more.”
“Wait,” the woman said, looking suspicious. “Ambrose? Who is this girl?”
“Nobody of consequence,” Ambrose said, his thick eyebrows furrowing into one long line of hair. “One of my trainees at the office had an object for me. We made a bet, you see. The prize plus my winnings. What was the amount again?”
He’d slightly emphasized the word object. He only smuggled nonliving cargo. The disappointment hung bitter in her chest. Time for plan B. “Two hundred and nineteen credits.” She programmed the payment into her wristband and held it out.
He accepted the payment without hesitation. “We also had something else involved in the deal, did we not?”
Irritation boiled in her chest. �
��A hen,” Ember said, thinking quickly.
Amusement touched his expression.
She jumped in again. “Four hens. All healthy.” She hoped. There was a very good chance her neighbors had eaten them already, but she had nothing else of any value to this man. “The owner’s name is Nicholae.”
“Chickens,” he muttered. “Fair enough. I suppose I can consider our transaction completed.” He offered his arm for a handshake. Ember slipped the pill bottle into his palm, and he discreetly closed his fingers around it and slipped it into his pocket.
“Thank you,” she breathed, feeling much lighter already. “Thank you so much.”
He turned back to his date. “Chickens,” he said again, and she laughed.
When Ember reached the lift, Stefan was waiting with a strange expression on his face, but he didn’t ask why Ember had left him. As the doors slid closed behind them, Ember melted against the wall in relief. She had done it.
Her father would get the medicine soon. All would be well.
Minutes later, they stood in a small room with a stage and rows of empty chairs. Instruments lay against the walls, although they looked to have been discarded for good reason. Most were broken right in half, while it appeared the others had fallen into disrepair over time.
“A recital hall,” Stefan said. “Every station has one, but music creation isn’t something the Empire emphasizes anymore. Takes too much time, too many resources.”
A familiar story. Ember eagerly scanned the available instruments, but her excitement fizzled. Several chrome pieces, an electronic piano, and a couple of wooden instruments with strings. Not an accordion or cimbalom in sight. She stepped over to what looked like a large, squat violin propped against the stage and picked it up by the neck. “What’s this?”
Stefan looked surprised. “A guitar. An earth instrument. I thought you’d be familiar with it.”
She strummed her fingers across the strings. The sound was strange, too bright. She put it down, ready to give up the trip as fruitless. Then she spied a hand drum on the ground. She took it into her arms and thumped it with the palm of her hand, nodding in satisfaction.
