The Last Singer (The Falcon Chronicles Book 1)

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The Last Singer (The Falcon Chronicles Book 1) Page 5

by Marjorie Lindsey


  “This doesn’t look very secure.” I’d never slept away from home. I was leery of having strange men next door, and no lock.

  “You always were a prude,” said Calia. “But you don’t have to worry. If you go through the wrong door an alarm goes off and the podmaster arrives in seconds.”

  “Podmaster?”

  “Every pod has a supervisor. They enforce the rules.”

  Calia stopped to the right of the women’s entrance in front of half a dozen video screens mounted on the wall, separated for privacy by vertical partitions. “This is the message area. If you want to contact me, you scroll down to my name, tap the screen and type your message and press send. Your message is locked, waiting for me to retrieve it. No one else can access it, except the podmaster, but even he has to have special permission from the council. To check for messages, just find your name and wave your hand over this pad.”

  “Is this the only way to make contact?” I was thinking about Father and Jarryd.

  “Other than meeting somewhere. Only councilors and upper level employees have personal communication devices. Remember, you’re just a grunt now.”

  As I followed her into the women’s dorm, I puzzled over the tone of her last remark.

  “You’re in with me, four beds to a room.” Calia laughed. “I can see by your face that you’re freaked out at the idea of sharing, but that’s life on Hypor. No more princess treatment here.”

  My face always betrayed me. I’d have to learn to hide my emotions.

  “There’s your bed and locker.” She indicated an empty bed with a tall narrow closet beside it. “Everything you need is in the big cupboard. Clothes are provided, if necessary.” She pulled at my sleeve. “Pretty fancy juba. You won’t need to wear one of these.” She plucked at her ill-fitting robe.

  I immediately decided to pack away my jubas and wear the ones provided. Despite the guilt of rejecting my mother’s gift, I decided it was better to blend in. I already felt ill at ease and different. Calia wasn’t making things any better.

  “It’s good to see that even you look plain in a juba.” She sniggered and gave me a little shove. “Just joking.”

  It was a lie. I heard the deception and it hurt. I didn’t understand this side of her. She’d been like family. My father had even arranged for her job on Hypor. Why did she resent me?

  “The other roommates are on break.” She flopped onto a messy bed and leaned back on her elbows. “One’s an artist who also has some council connection, and the other’s a girl from the secretarial group on the tenth floor. Have you been up there?”

  I nodded.

  A forced attitude of boredom accompanied a twist to her lips. “Thought you might, lucky you.” Her voice held a bitter undercurrent of jealousy.

  My hand went to my churning stomach and I took a step back.

  “You okay?” She asked then looked down and examined her fingernails. “May as well get your pack stowed in your locker before we head back. There’s not much else to do during the day but work. At night’s when the fun begins.” Calia’s sly grin was familiar, always there when she’d planned something forbidden. However, we were no longer children and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know her plans.

  “Where’s the recpod?” I remembered Jarryd’s remarks about the obstacle course.

  “It’s in a separate dome, beyond the foodpod. Not my thing, but you can check it out yourself after work. We’d better get back. Dench will find some way to punish us if we’re too long.”

  As we retraced our steps, I asked about the other workers in our department.

  “Most of them are boring. Carrot and Stick are a pain. They think they’re above everyone else.”

  “Carrot and Stick?”

  “That’s what I call them. Carrot has orangey hair. Stick is skinny and almost seven feet tall. We give them the information and translations. They’re the broadcasters. The ones that get to make the news videos that go out to the rest of the city. The females don’t get those jobs, even if you have connections.” She opened the door to the media room. “Here we go,” she muttered.

  My head spun with all the new information I received during the day.

  In the early days of the Rising, immigrants flocked to Hypor City from around the planet. The diversity of language still remained. All edicts from the council, approved community notices, and sanctioned articles of interest had to be translated before being transmitted via video. The computers did most of the work though not very efficiently. My job was to ensure that the meaning and nuance of each translation was correct before it went to the broadcasters.

  I was slow and lagged behind. Despite Calia’s sarcastic remark about trying to please Dench, I worked through lunch to catch up. At six, an automated voice announced day’s end. Surprised at the quick passage of time, I joined the line that filed out of the room. Dench followed and locked the door with his passcard. Except for him, everyone turned toward the foodpod.

  Calia and I followed the crowd. Carrot and Stick leaned against the wall a few feet along the hallway. They straightened and confronted us, barring our way.

  “You.” Stick stabbed his bony finger at me. “You only got your job because of your father.”

  “Nepotism,” Carrot sneered.

  “You slimy tools.” Calia was on them like a spitting cat. “You both have connections to the council. Your uncle and your cousin.” She nodded at Carrot and then at Stick. “I’m the only one who got where I am on pure talent.”

  I knew this was untrue but appreciated her defense.

  “You got a promotion, but not because you’re a good translator,” said Stick.

  “Your talent is what you do on your back.” Carrot leered at her.

  I expected Calia to be embarrassed or irate; to defend herself against the sexual innuendo. Instead, she laughed.

  “You’re just jealous because you don’t have a chance with me.” She tossed her head and grabbed my arm. “Come on, Brynna. What they have might be contagious.”

  The food wasn’t as good as Mother’s.

  After dinner, I asked Calia again for directions to the recpod.

  “I’ve got something better in mind,” she replied. “Tonight, the Premier's birthday is being celebrated at the marketplace. Everyone will be there. You’ll really like it. It will be fun.”

  After much cajoling, I agreed to accompany her.

  Minutes later, we exited the food area and walked through several more domes and tubes. Crowd noise grew steadily louder until it peaked at the entrance of our final destination.

  “This is the marketplace,” Calia yelled over the deafening hum.

  I followed as she wove her way through the mass of people. Colored lights flashed wildly as bodies milled mindlessly among vendors. We moved past displays of simple jewelry, baskets, hair clasps, and small sculptures. An exhibit of intricate black sculptures caught my eye. I paused to take a closer look. When I turned to explain my interest to Calia, she was gone.

  “Do you like miniatures?” asked a petite blonde woman behind the stall. She wore onyx earrings shaped like stars. Several ropes of colored beads circled her neck. Her large gray eyes twinkled with welcome.

  “Yes, I was given one as a gift. It must take great skill to work the figures so precisely.”

  “Lots of practice and a good teacher are essential. It’s hard on the eyes so you definitely have to love what you do.”

  I hadn’t worked long enough to earn credits so I couldn’t consider buying anything. “I’ll be back another time,” I offered lamely.

  She nodded and smiled. “Enjoy the celebration.”

  Despite the revelry, the atmosphere and the crush of bodies felt oppressive. I joined the flow and quickly found myself at the perimeter. As the throng circled the dome, I knew that I would eventually reach the exit.

  Progress was slow and the mass was tight so I was surprised to spot a group of people separated from the rest by a few feet of empty space. Then I noted the clus
ter of black uniformed men surrounding another in gold regalia. At his side stood a short woman in a gray juba. When she lifted her head and threw him a coquettish smile, I recognized Calia.

  The man circled his arm around her waist and yanked her against him. At the other men’s cheers and urgings, he leaned down and kissed her. She didn’t pull back, but instead flung her arms around his neck and hung onto him in earnest.

  Others in the crowd stopped to watch as well. The guards noted our interest and encircled the couple. “Move along.” Some of them yelled and waved their arms.

  The exit neared and I rushed into the adjoining tube. The noise diminished as I threaded my way back to the dorm. Every step felt heavier than the last. At home, I spent many hours with only Circe for company, never feeling as alone and isolated as I did now.

  Calia had changed. Maybe Hypor changes everyone.

  Not me. I was determined to find a way to preserve my skills so one day I would be free to be a healer.

  The days that followed settled into a dull routine of work and sleep. Dench controlled the flow of information in the office. I was given only basic government notices that required little skill to translate. The lack of challenge was mind-numbing. In an effort to ease the boredom, I attempted to make friends with other co-workers. All I got was cool disdain that I didn’t understand.

  Calia seemed preoccupied and never available after work. Even in the dorm, I only got a disinterested answer or a grunt when I tried to converse with her. The two other women often arrived back late. One had a boyfriend. The other was shy and reclusive. We never progressed past hello and a few mundane pleasantries.

  Alone, I decided to explore the city as best I could. I visited the marketplace several times, but when I caught sight of Calia with Prince Delio again, I decided to avoid the area. I missed her company, but her priorities weren’t mine. I wanted to know more about the recpod and Steepchase.

  Eventually, I found the recpod, but a group of guards stood conversing at the entrance. I wanted to go in, but decided to wait for Jarryd, whom I hoped would soon respond to the numerous messages I’d sent him.

  Alone in my room, I hummed or sang quietly, trying to keep my vocal skills strong. The exercises helped to soothe my isolation and made me feel closer to Mother. But they also reminded me of the freedom I’d lost.

  My future in Hypor City looked dismal.

  A week later, I still hadn’t heard from Jarryd. Almost desperate, I wondered crazily if I could storm the men’s dorm. I stopped at the videos near the women’s dorm to check for messages. Anticipating another empty screen, I was relieved to see a missive from Jarryd, but shocked when ‘URGENT’ flashed on the screen.

  Meet me tomorrow at noon outside foodpod. Tell no one. JB

  9

  A Terrifying Threat

  It was twelve fifteen when Jarryd finally appeared the next day.

  “You’re late.” I teased, waiting for his answering smile.

  It didn’t appear. Instead, Jarryd caught my arm and propelled me away from the busy foodpod and back into a connecting tube. “Never mind that. I know.”

  “What are you talking about?” I’d hardly seen him over the past ten days and now he wanted to take up part of my precious lunch hour being mysterious. “What do you know?”

  The look he gave me was the one older siblings give to their juniors when they’re acting dumb. He glanced over his shoulder before continuing.

  “I know what Father and Mother are so worried about.” His voice dropped so low even I had trouble hearing it. “Something that’ll blow your mind.”

  “Really? What? Earthquakes? Another tsunami?” I knew these were possible. They’d occurred in the past.

  “Even more serious.” Urgency and alarm made his usually warm eyes cold. “The whole planet is in danger.”

  I was shocked but skeptical. What could be worse than the floods and devastation that had occurred during the Rising?

  “What kind of danger? How do you know?”

  His eyes flicked beyond me and he beckoned to someone. Moments later a blonde woman joined us. It was the artist from the market. I recognized her round gray eyes and onyx earrings. She was cute in a pixie sort of way. The flirty way she glanced at my brother told me that she was smitten.

  He smiled as she approached. “Bryn, this is Marta. She’s the one who first told me about the threat. Her father’s on the council as well.” The woman placed her hand on his sleeve and I watched his gaze soften. “Tell Bryn what your father told you.”

  My mind reeled at the thought that my big brother might be in love. He’d been mine and now I might have to share him with another woman. It was a stupid kind of jealousy but I couldn’t help it.

  “…when the Genetrix was here a while ago…”

  Marta’s mention of the Genetrix refocused my attention.

  “…she foretold of a disaster. Something to do with the sun, but there was no time or date given.”

  “That’s rather vague.” Was this all Marta had? I felt she should do better, but maybe I was being harsh—and a little green.

  “That’s not all,” said Jarryd. “One of the scientists I work with has discovered data predicting a deadly coronal mass ejection.”

  “What’s that?”

  “CMEs are huge eruptions of plasma that spew heat and solar radiation from the sun’s surface. We’re in an eleven-year cycle of sunspots that will hit its zenith around the time of the solar eclipse. Most times they miss the planet but Weyland, my colleague, discovered activity on a specific quadrant of the sun that would put us in line for a direct hit.”

  I stepped back, stunned by the implications. “But what about our atmosphere? Wouldn’t it protect us?”

  “Not from a direct hit. In fact, the experts are predicting that our atmosphere would be ripped from the planet.”

  Marta choked out a whisper. “No atmosphere, no life.”

  “It must be a mistake.” I stared at the two of them, trying to make sense of it all. This couldn’t be true. I’d just started my life. I wanted to live to see nineteen at least. “The council must have a plan. What’s being done about the threat?”

  “My father says there are designs for satellite shields,” said Marta. “Premier Delio has also commissioned a fleet of starships to evacuate the planet if necessary.”

  “And go where? We were told there’s been no contact with the Mars colony for ten years, not since the satellites stopped working. We don’t even know if anyone is still there.” I looked at my brother. “Do we?”

  “No.” He pushed his fingers through his hair in the same way Father did when he was bewildered.

  “So where are we going? Is there anywhere else?” I was as baffled as they were.

  He shook his head. “Mars is the only option at this point.”

  “So basically we’re toast or lost in space. What a great choice.”

  I hadn’t meant to be funny, but Jarryd grinned. Nervous tension soon had us all laughing.

  “We shouldn’t joke,” said Marta. “It’s a catastrophic situation.”

  I threw up my hands and shook my head. “What can we do?”

  “For the moment we have to keep this to ourselves,” said Jarryd. “If it gets out, Marta’s father will be in serious trouble, and the council will come down on Weyland for revealing what he found. They don’t want people to panic. Who knows what they’d do to us if they learned we’d leaked the information.”

  I couldn’t imagine, but since arriving on Hypor, I’d heard of people banished for lesser reasons. Rumors were that difficult men were sentenced to hard labor in the mines at Haven, on the outskirts of Nuvega. Disobedient women were also transported to somewhere unpleasant. I doubted all the stories were true, but I didn’t want to find out first hand.

  A bell sounded.

  “We have to go. Lunchtime is over.” Jarryd looked at me. “We’ll meet you tonight at the recpod. Six o’clock. We can talk more then.”

  My gut was a
hard knot.

  Dazed, I slumped back against a wall. The news was disturbing and potentially devastating. My mind was a foggy maze, each thought lost as my imagination tussled with the prospects. No future. The end in sight. I’d never felt so scattered or vulnerable.

  I didn’t notice Calia until she confronted me.

  “What’s up with you?” She wobbled on tiptoes, her face only inches from mine. “You’ve been standing here forever with that blank look on your face. Are you on drugs?” Dark eyes bored into my blue ones. “No, of course not. Not Miss-Prim-and-Proper. What’s pushed you into fantasy land?”

  She must have seen me with my brother, so I couldn’t deny it.

  “Jarryd and I were catching up. We haven’t spoken since I started working.”

  “What did you talk about? Must have been something important to leave you looking so stunned.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Come on. Give.” She wouldn’t let this drop. Tenacity was her middle name.

  I couldn’t share what I’d learned about the planet so I decided instead to sacrifice a tidbit about my brother’s love life. After furtively glancing around, I bent close and whispered. “Promise you won’t say anything, but I think Jarryd has a serious girlfriend.”

  Calia loved gossip and I’d caught her attention. But I’d forgotten she’d once had a crush on Jarryd.

  “That bitch, Marta?” Her lips spat the name. “I don’t know what he sees in her. Just because her father’s on the council. Maybe that’s it. Yes, must be. Both from rich families.” A sneer marred her red lips.

  It felt like betrayal to listen to her vitriol, but it was better than telling her the real topic of my conversation with Jarryd.

  “She seemed nice enough to me.” My defense was weak.

  “Your brother with that no-brain artist? He deserves someone smart. I can’t believe you’re not angry.”

  My earlier jealousy melted away. I regretted the sacrifice even though the distraction had worked. “I trust my brother to choose someone who makes him happy no matter what she does.” Family loyalty poked at me. “Besides, it’s no one else’s business but his.”

 

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