’No,’ Lena said, with an intense gaze. ‘Flawless, Jill, you must be flawless. The big-time critics are in the house. If we succeed, this could be my galactic break.’
‘You want to get out?’
‘Of course! This is an old people’s backwater.’
Jill nodded slowly. She’d always thought Lena had the world before her and, like her, had chosen to stay on Nanira because she enjoyed it. ‘Well, you can count on me.’
Lena flashed a quick smile and looked past Jill. ‘Piniya!’ She beckoned the young Jindalar girl to join them.
‘Everything all right?’
Piniya grinned. ‘I’m excited. Actually, very excited!’
‘Let’s keep it together,’ Lena said. ‘We’re the stars tonight. Come here.’
Jill and Piniya joined Lena, and they took a photo together.
‘It’s time!’ Mrs Bollentine scuttled through the backstage, gathering the dancers into a queue.
Behind Piniya and Lena, Jill tugged her outfit slightly at the hip. It didn’t help, but she told herself it was only an outfit; what mattered was how she moved. She found herself shaking, perhaps because of excitement. It startled her, but she reminded herself that in the navy she had remained calm under situations more stressful than this, and that this was just a dance. There was something that was making her nervous, however; perhaps it was the outfit or what Lena had said, or just the fact it was new to her… But this was what she wanted to do.
The music began, and the noise of the crowd died down. From the other side of the backstage, the young background dancers entered the stage.
Lena give Jill and Piniya a meaningful nod, and said, ‘Let’s not fail this.’
Jill frowned on instinct. Why the negativity?
‘Let’s go,’ Lena said, straightening her posture and taking floating steps towards the stage.
Jill followed, with Piniya behind her. Passing the curtain, the hot stage lights blinded her, but she followed the routine they had practiced so many times. The lights also made it impossible to see the audience—Tredd was somewhere among them—and that was good.
On the stage, the rest of the world melted away, and Jill became lost in the moment. This was why she danced.
Between the supporting dancers, Jill and Piniya stopped in a pose, as Lena performed her first solo sequence, which ended in a fast spin and a defiant pose. The audience burst into cheers, and Lena beamed.
After the applause faded, the choreography continued with the whole group spread out on the stage. The music pumped hard.
Then the tune softened, and the group moved to a semi-circle behind Lena, Jill and Piniya. They held hands as the light faded to black. Jill’s stomach dropped as they were lifted from the floor, as if in zero gravity, and the light came back on.
The crowd burst into applause as the dancers floated mid-air. Jill, Piniya and Lena performed in a graceful motion, and Jill let herself be lost in the flow as they moved through the air.
The three-dimensional part of their choreography was the easy part for Jill, who had thousands of hours of zero-gravity training behind her in the navy, and it was something she considered rather gimmicky. But the audience loved it, and after the float, it was time for her solo performance.
She descended slowly in an elegant pose. As her feet touched the floor and the lights went down, something tugged at her dress from the back, pulling it down. She turned, but there was nobody behind her.
She pulled her dress up, but it fell back, and she felt as if the whole thing was going to fall off. She had no time to worry about it, because the spotlight lit up on her.
She took a deep breath and stepped forward. A creak from her outfit made her miss a step, which she quickly corrected.
She wondered if Lena had seen it, but continued with the sequence she had practiced so many times.
She carried herself lightly and elegantly to the soft music.
A booming rip.
Cool air on her waist.
She hesitated before pumping her body into a spin on her left foot, and for a moment met Lena’s scowling eyes.
How badly did it rip? She couldn’t look down.
She landed her right foot on the floor and put her weight on it.
Too early.
She leaned out to the side.
Too far.
Her foot slipped, her dress ripped, and she lost her balance.
With a screech, she fell to the floor.
The audience gasped and Lena’s face burned.
The music stopped, and the curtains closed.
Jill cried.
After a hover taxi ride from the city to the beach, during which they barely spoke, Tredd held their front door open and Jill limped through. It was late and the darkness hung heavy in their home. As Tredd flicked on the lights in the foyer, Jill dropped her bag on the floor and set her coat on the hanger.
The news of her blunder was already pouring over the Dawn Net, with headlines such as ‘Faith No More: Clumsy in the Bedroom.’ Lena had been furious and blamed Jill for ruining her life. Piniya had tried to support her, but when Lulan, the owner of Famous in the Bedroom, had entered the backstage, it was all over. Jill’s ankle hurt, but nobody had helped. Now, as she removed her shoes, it had swollen to an unrecognisable lump.
She was unable to miss her image in the mirror in the foyer. Swollen eyes from crying. Right when the accident happened, she had still thought there was a chance, but when everyone in the troupe agreed she had to go, she burst out crying, and had to accept it. Her career as a dancer was over before it had even started.
Tredd stood in the doorway to the study with two glasses in one hand and a bottle of Kikuchian spirit in the other. ‘Wanna talk about it?’
Alcohol was the last thing she wanted, but she took the drink he offered, and set it away on the side table. ‘You saw what happened. There’s nothing to talk about. It’s over.’
He poured himself a drink and took a big gulp. ‘It doesn’t have to be.’
She faltered across the hall to the bedroom, which lit automatically with orange-tinted low lights. She slumped on the bed and lifted her leg up. Her ankle looked like it had a balloon inside.
He stepped into the bedroom. ‘You’ll get over it soon. You’ve had it worse.’
‘This is different. I’m not a dancer. Maybe Fae was, but I’m not.’
He sat beside her, the smell of alcohol on his breath. ‘Maybe you could try another group.’
‘Are you serious? I’m done for.’ She appreciated that he was trying to help, but it wasn’t working.
‘Who cares about one blunder? People forget. If you love dancing, just do it… you’ll have another chance soon enough.’
‘Who cares? Just do it?’ she blurted, surprising herself.
‘I’m sorry, I understand how you must feel.’
He seemed perfectly sincere, but Jill doubted he knew how she felt when she didn’t even understand it herself.
He ran his hand over her thigh with a mischievous look on his face. ‘Perhaps I can make you feel better.’
She pushed his hand away and turned. ‘I should get some sleep and see the doctor tomorrow.’
It didn’t take long until Tredd was snoring beside her. But Jill couldn’t sleep. Instead she lay awake under the covers and stared at the ceiling above, as her thoughts went deeper and deeper into the meaning of her existence.
There was no going back to Famous in the Bedroom. There were other dance groups aplenty, but somehow, she didn’t want to find one. It wouldn’t be the same, and the group wasn’t the problem.
It was the show. Everything about the show had felt wrong.
Dancing itself, by herself, was fun. It was a release from the everyday demands of life, a way to connect with a higher purpose. Dancing had been her enjoyable ascendance.
The show, on the other hand, had been a long and steady decline. She enjoyed the practice, but there had been nothing to like in the final product—a complete disa
ster, an anti-climax of her short-lived career as a dancer.
She wasn’t a quitter. No, she was driven by results and could go through hell—like she had done in the navy. Now, though, her goal with all this was crumbling. What was the point if not enjoyment? And that enjoyment she could tap into any time. She needed no troupe. She needed no shows.
With the liberating realisation of letting go, Jill pushed down the covers and closed her eyes.
Her life had been filled with preparation for the show, and more than that, preparation for a new career. Now she faced an open stage and a universe of opportunity.
She thought she would sleep through it, but minute-by-minute, the thought made her restless.
She had left the world of the navy to join a paramilitary unit with close ties to the navy and the Shades.
She had thought the Shades were just a legend—a story people told each other to ease their existential pain—but now she knew better. While she had no doubt the Shades were real, they remained a mystery. They seemed to have a hand in how life evolved in the universe, but to what end, she didn’t know. They were all about E, the mysterious energy that had also made Jill an electric freak. Throughout her life, her power had been a burden, but in the fight against Remola, invading extra-dimensional beings, she had used it for a higher purpose.
That purpose was left unfulfilled when she and Tredd gave away their powers, and moved to this tuned-out planet. But it was still a worthy purpose, something she missed.
Did I make a big mistake by settling down?
One of the Shades, Nenetl, had been behind the Remola attack. Now they were said to have been pushed back, but she had witnessed Nenetl trapping Aalto, the Shade closest to humans. The fact had gnawed on her since they’d left the navy.
The sudden appearance of the black discs worried her, even though they had remained lifeless. Still, what if Nenetl and the Remola had been gathering strength to rise again, and the discs were their preparation for an attack? It was a terrible thought. People thought they were safe, but perhaps they were wrong. If she were with the navy, she’d know more.
Henning had chosen differently. He’d agreed to work with the navy, but it was because he wanted Avalon back. Even so, it was probably the right thing to do.
With all its flaws, the Dawn Alliance Navy was the best tool to heed her calling. She had extraordinary power for a reason. Dancing, or lounging by the beachside, was outwardly great, but in reality, shallow ways of life would be a waste of her talent.
She needed something real. She needed to belong. And there was no need to search for it. It had been there all along.
Tredd wouldn’t like it. But she was set. There was no turning back now.
Feeling hot under the covers, she pushed them away, and rose to sit. It was two in the morning. She had to come up with a plan.
Chapter Eight
After an easy workday of replacing the filters of all six of Gemma Central space station’s gravity engines, Berossus walked across the entertainment district towards a private tearoom. He remembered what Efia had said, and wanted to hear what his mother had to say.
He entered the tearoom under a dark green noren and took off his shoes, which the attendant placed to the side. He followed them along a tight corridor with polished wooden floor and sliding doors on either side. Just before the end of the corridor, the attendant stopped, and slid open a door.
He peered in. His mother was sitting on the floor, looking at the painting on the wall. Behind her was a small window through which the outer shell of Gemma Central glimmered under the blackness of space. Noticing her son enter, she motioned for him to sit on a small pillow in front of her.
It reminded him why he hadn’t been to the tearooms ever since he had come back to Gemma Central: they would sit on the floor the whole time, and his legs would always fall asleep and end up hurting. But he reminded himself that his mother, who once was bedridden by phalaxymy, had no trouble sitting cross-legged for hours and hours. If she could do it, he could, too.
He sat down, cross-legged. It would have been more polite to sit on his feet, but she wouldn’t mind.
‘Why not have tea at home?’
She smiled. ‘It’s a small luxury I allow myself. Besides, you haven’t been here yet. They closed good old Jintea’s and this was opened just before you came back. It’s lovely, isn’t it? And they only have people, no robot servers,’ she said, motioning around with her hands.
Berossus nodded in agreement. The dark wood in the walls, which he could practically smell, the natural material of the floor, the exquisite tall vase in the corner with blue flowers, and the two paintings of Berdunamian swans created a perfect balance. She smiled in contentment as they sat in silence.
Berossus coughed and said, ‘I wanted to ask you something…’
‘Yes, what is it?’
‘I spoke with Efia the other day. You never told me how you met her.’
‘She asked you to ask me, didn’t she?’
Berossus grinned. ‘How’d you know?’
‘Well, it’s a long story.’
‘Tell me.’
Before she could begin, the door to their private room slid open, and a Jindalar server dressed in a traditional black outfit stepped in holding a tray with two wide blue-and-black cups and a black pot. He set a cup in front of both of them and poured steaming tea from the pot. The Berdunamian aroma filled the room.
Inanna raised the cup with two hands and inhaled the scent. Berossus followed in silence. He enjoyed the tea, but it was still just tea. For his mother, it was something else.
‘This is perfect,’ she said, setting the cup on the table. ’You want to hear about how I met Efia?’
Berossus sipped his tea and nodded.
‘After everything that has happened recently and is happening right now, perhaps this is the time. Also, the story of Efia and I is also a prelude to the story of your father and I.’
Berossus knew little about his father. He had been a big and strong Andron man, and had died when Berossus was still a baby. He didn’t know how; his mother always avoided the subject, but said if his father were alive, he would be very proud of his son.
It was a long time ago… I was on a holiday trip to Eura—I still lived in Krella at the time. I travelled with a friend, Ofelia, and we toured Dandelia and Pointema, even the outlands of Lanneren. It was during the last days of my stay on the planet, after Ofelia had already taken off (she was starting a new job on Baleor).
I was but a girl then, and I was naive. I had heard of dodgy places like Spit City and Shin-Chuong, but Dandelia was different. It was clean, and people were friendly, the society was well-controlled, and crime was minimal. But it wasn’t zero. I was in a village called Screprenia, and arriving late to the hotel as I wanted to check out the shopping street before checking in.
I walked giddily with my robot suitcase following behind me—bought myself a nice blouse, and new shoes from the shops. My map showed me a shortcut through small alleys between the buildings, and, being short on time, I welcomed it.
In just a few dozens of metres the alley became dark, as if the light from the sky was completely covered. A dark figure appeared in front of me, blocking the way and startling me.
I looked back—another tall dark figure had appeared behind me. They started walking towards me.
‘What do you want?’ I asked.
The dark figures continued moving silently towards me.
Two panting men appeared behind the dark figure in front of me. One was a slender human in a crisp brownish suit and some kind of glasses, and the other the biggest Andron man I had ever seen.
The human man shouted, ’Creatures of the void, begone!’
The shadow swooshed forward towards me.
I screamed, stumbled backwards on my feet, and fell.
But it flew past me in a reek of sulphur. I turned, and saw a ragged dark cape turn around a corner.
‘Miss, are you all right?’ the human
man called, as they ran towards me.
I shook my head and took his hand.
He pulled me up, the massive Andron man watching behind him.
‘What was that…’ I stammered. ‘What were they?’
‘Miss, are you all right?’ the man repeated.
‘I think I am,’ I said, still feeling shaken after the encounter. The dark figures had looked so unreal with their black rags and uncanny air.
’Did they touch you at all?’ the Andron man asked.
‘I don’t think so. Why?’
He grunted. ‘You’re lucky. The Veerings can drain your energy; they’re not to be played with.’
’The Veerings? What— and who are you?’
The human man opened his arms and bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry, miss, I am Jilius Dal, and—’
‘Jilius Dal?’ Berossus broke in.
‘Yes, Jilius Dal—of course, you know his son?’
‘Yes, Henning. Jilius is Aino’s grandfather, Henning’s father… He’s the founder of Avalon. Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?’
’Well,’ Inanna said, with a twinkle in her eye, ‘if I had told you about him, I would have had to tell you things about your father too, and Efia.’
‘Father?’
‘Who else?’
‘The big Andron man?’
‘That was him.’
Berossus took a deep breath. He had asked her to tell him how she had met the Shade, but instead he got a story about his father and Jilius Dal. ‘But you haven’t told me about the Shade.’
‘Patience, my dear. I’m just getting there.’
Jilius continued, ‘And this is Oberen Dengo.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Miss…’
‘Inanna Amane.’
‘You shouldn’t be walking these streets alone.’
‘The guide said this village is peaceful as—’
Something black whizzed above us fast, so fast it seemed as if it stretched and blended with the darkening sky above.
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