Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  “Wow! Mark, look!” I pull on his arm to get him to stop. I’m no longer twenty but four years old, apparently. Down an adjacent section is a container that could hold a whole human. Glittering in gold, red, and blue paint, it stands behind a shelf of pottery.

  “Yes, an Egyptian sarcophagus, and we’re lucky to have that. The museum in New York City was burnt to the ground during the riots. Thirty percent of everything the museum held was lost.”

  “I wish I could touch it.” I think, if I ran really quick, I could probably reach the sarcophagus before Sakai caught me.

  “Come, Sanaa-chan. These things are all interesting, but they don’t bring back what we’ve lost, just remind us of it. The next section is where the real work is done.”

  Through the next doorway is an immense lab, and I count at least sixty people working at stations. “These scientists are replicating the genomes of almost all the animals lost during the Decline. Cell and culture samples will be frozen and shipped to Yūsei so we can populate the planet with species we’re familiar with.”

  “Do you think there will be life on Yūsei, Mark? Everyone has a theory, but the administration is quiet.”

  “That’s because no one knows. The planet is definitely habitable. Right temperature, right atmosphere, right size, but that’s all the data we have.” Sakai clears his throat and motions to me to stay out of the way of a woman carrying a tray of pipettes. In the next aisle over, a distracted man, holding a tray of pipettes in one hand and reading his tablet at the same time, knocks into a cubicle divider and drops everything. Glass shatters, and two people jump to the side.

  “Oh ffff.” He closes his eyes and clenches his mouth shut, stopping a swear. “Smitty! Call the clean-bots over here, please.” He sighs and looks miserably at the floor. “A day’s work gone.”

  With a flurry of activity and screeching of tiny wheels, the clean-bots zoom in and clear the mess while others walk around like nothing happened. I want clean-bots (I hate cleaning), but they are such a luxury. Only the commercial zones of Nishikyō use them.

  “Everyone here is working double shifts. There’s much to be done before we depart.”

  “I remember, Mark.” I nod at Sakai, and he averts his eyes guiltily. Back at my former job, they are working long hours without me.

  “You look weary but there’s still much more to see here, including the zoo.”

  “Hontō ni!” A zoo.

  His eyes light up at my exclamation of delight. “Sō desu yo. I’m now sure this was the right trip for today.”

  Through two more sections, Sakai leads me on an extensive tour of the zoo. Allof the animals here are less than ten years old. Nishikyō has tigers, lions, giraffes, an elephant, sheep, goats, llamas, horses, birds, reptiles, and a huge tank of fish. Space is so limited, though. Each of these animals (except maybe the fish) will be put into deep sleep for the flight to Yūsei like most of the human population. I gaze into the eyes of a llama and wonder what he will think about hibernating for a few years and waking up on some hostile planet. Probably the same as me if he were aware of his surroundings at all.

  Sakai explains there are also sparse fields north of the city where administrators are able to keep animals outdoors, though only in shifts. The ambient radiation outside is too high for prolonged exposure. I wonder how north these fields are as I’ve only seen scrub desert around Nishikyō in photos. The climate here is still harsh but cooler than most of the continent.

  “Mark, will scientists replicate cats and dogs and other house pets? I see them in movies but no one has owned one for hundreds of years.”

  Sakai ended our tour after the zoo and brought me back to the locker room after the main shift left for the evening.

  “I believe so. They’ve been cataloged and stored, but none have been replicated. Fish are fairly prevalent as pets in the city, though, especially in Ku 6.”

  He takes our hazmat suits and places them in the auto-hamper, then smoothes out his clothing. I catch a glimpse of his tattoo again, and this time Sakai catches me peeking. His hand moves reflexively to his neck, and I turn away. I’m so curious. Now I definitely want to see those tattoos.

  “Sanaa-chan…” Sakai’s mood cools considerably. “Tomorrow, I’ll be taking you to meet more people from my clan. Another sensei who you’ll be training with for some time.”

  “What sort of training?” I sigh internally. Aren’t I already doing enough?

  An employee enters the room and Sakai’s eyes meet mine. He no longer wants to talk in front of anyone else. Whatever it is, I’ll find out tomorrow.

  Chapter

  Six

  The insomnia began a week ago. I’ve been ignoring the sleepless nights, pulling myself out of bed each morning and drinking more coffee each day. Tonight, though, all I can think about is the sad expression in the eyes of the animals I met today or the frustrated and crazed look on the technician’s face who destroyed his work. Moving six million people to a new world will be the greatest achievement ever, and the other agencies are being pushed to the limit.

  It’s been weeks since I was at my former engineering job, and I miss it. I miss seeing my coworkers every day, especially Chad, and working towards a substantial goal. I’ve always been goal-oriented. Make a goal, achieve it, make a new one. Working without goals is pointless to me. Sifting through data for days on end is making me crazy.

  Sakai is not helping. He tells me little about the work I’m doing even though he’s opened up to me about my family. Those things he’s told me make me angry and upset, but they have the ring of truth I’m unable to ignore. If my mother were here, would she disapprove of me spending my days with Sakai? Or would she be happy? I’m suddenly wishing she had kept a diary so I could read and find out. I hate myself for even thinking that.

  Secret job. Secret boss. Secret work. Secretly keeping the clans of Nishikyō under surveillance until someone tells me what to do with the information I’m gathering. I haven’t told Sakai, but on surveillance I’ve seen him, Jiro, and the other man he was with on New Year’s Eve meeting with Minamoto, Taira, and Maeda. It was a strange out-of-body experience to find people I recognized on the videos. My heart beat at ten times its pace watching Jiro talk to these dangerous men. I had almost forgotten about him — almost — though Miko mentioned him in her messages. We had a connection for ten whole heart-stopping seconds, and the magic evaporated as quickly as it began. I was close to calling up his records in the GDB one day but stopped myself. Sakai would find out, and it’s none of my business anyway when I’m certain Sakai and his family are the “good guys.”

  But how can a “good guy” like Sakai take me from everything I’ve ever known and thrust me into a job I don’t want? What kind of sadistic bastard is he?

  I roll over and punch my meager pillow. Pulling the blanket up over my shoulder, I listen to the sounds filtering in through my window from the back alley street below: a baby crying, a bike being ridden past, the murmured hum of two people talking in the street. I should be searching for my own place in the ward. I should be out having fun with my friends every night. I am not doing either of those things.

  I fall asleep with thoughts of telling Sakai where he can put his plans for me.

  The next day, I meet him as usual for breakfast, but I keep quiet instead of chatting like I normally do.

  “Is something the matter, Sanaa? You’re awfully pensive today.”

  I will do my best not to get angry. I am going to fail.

  “Does it please you to take my life and turn it upside down?”

  He frowns, his eyes narrowing. “Nothing pleases me that makes you upset. What’s going on?”

  “I just… you came in and changed everything in my life. Changed my job. Changed my opinion of my family. Changed my life from an honest one to one filled with lies. I don’t even understand why you chose me, or what you hope to gain.”

  He is not saying anything. I hate when he does this.

  “Why, Mark? Wh
y? Would my mother have wanted this for me? I’m pretty certain she would have been happy with my life the way it was.” I didn’t want to cry in front of him, but it’s too late. The tears are already rolling down my face. “I want to quit. I want to go back to my old job and live my life until it’s time to go. Can you not just let me go?”

  “I’m sorry, Sanaa. I can’t. There’s no place for you to go but here with me.”

  Ugh, this is not working and I’m getting even angrier. “What gives you the right to do this to me? Don’t you have anything more important to do?” Instead of yelling, I’ll belittle him.

  He’s silent… definitely not taking the bait.

  “What you are doing now is more important than anything,” Sakai says, crossing his arms. “Don’t try and make me angry, Sanaa. Arguing with me is not going to change our situation. This is our path. We have to accept it.”

  I hate this. I don’t want to accept it.

  As I’m about to completely lose my mind on him, the wave of anger recedes and hopelessness comes over me instead. There’s no place to go. No one I can turn to for help. I don’t want to admit to my aunts what has happened to my job, my life. They are consummate worrywarts. I’d never hear the end of it.

  I can do nothing now. This is my new life, and I have to accept and move on before I drive myself insane with what-ifs.

  * * * *

  We spend our morning in Ku 1 as always, and after lunch, Sakai escorts me directly to Ku 6, the Japanese Ward. I haven’t been here since I was little. Emerging from the transitway station, colorful signs, blinking with bright orange, red, and blue displays or white backlit kanji, hiragana, and katakana, jut out from every building. Ku 6 is even more busy than my Ku 9 ward, and the lack of English makes my head swirl. People swarm around Sakai and me to get down to the transitway platform before the station chimes end, jostling my shoulder and politely murmuring excuses as they descend. I step off to the side and press my back against a building covered in a graffiti-style mural, two white kodama ghosts at the base of a thick tree.

  I’ve seen all of this before, and it doesn’t make it any less chaotic. Now I look upon the Ku 6 residents and wonder about which clans they affiliate themselves with, or I spy familiar men and women on the sidewalk I’ve never met before but watched on video. Spending all of my time scrutinizing surveillance footage has made me apprehensive about being here in person.

  After a short walk from the train, we step up to an empty appliance dealer’s storefront, its sign unlit. The doorway is like any other nondescript building on the block except for a small emblem stamped over the threshold: three petals of a flower arranged in a circle. I lightly run my fingers over the raised surface.

  “This is the Sakai family kamon, right? What is this flower?”

  “The katabami. Like a clover, usually yellow.”

  “Do you live here?”

  “No, I do not. Someone else from my clan owns this building. The storefront is to keep curious people away. Dōzo.” He opens the door and leads me up two flights of stairs to a large room. The windows are draped in heavy fabrics. The floors covered with mats. I believe this is a dōjō, but there are no adornments whatsoever which is out of character. The room is tight and warm with hardly a breath of air. They should really open those windows. My eyes land on the corner and the rack of wooden swords, and I break into a cold sweat.

  I’m not used to seeing weapons out in the open, though I’ve seen them on video. I can’t tear my eyes from these. Police only carry nightsticks and guns were banned over three hundred years ago. Eliminating guns didn’t stop the hand-to-hand violence nor the beatings some take with bats or stabbings with knives, but it removed truly deadly weapons from the populace.

  Still, I draw the logical conclusion from wooden to metal swords. If people practice with the former, they are capable of using the latter. Everyone carrying a sword must be skilled enough to use one. Anxiety and fear start to buzz in the back of my head.

  A young man about my age emerges from a doorway, and my stomach sinks. Oh no.

  “Hello, Sanaa. It’s nice to see you again.” I didn’t think I would meet Jiro so soon again after New Year’s Eve. I figured Sakai was going to keep me in my little room forever and ever, and my wish for love and happiness would never be granted. But this? I didn’t plan on this.

  “Hi, Jiro…” is about all I can manage with a short bow, and I want to turn and deck Sakai for bringing me here with no prior warning. I glance at him, and he is trying not to smile. I am going to kill him. I swear it.

  Jiro calls out towards the doorway, “Father, they’re here!” Jiro is staring at me with those eyes that laughed on New Year’s Eve as he read his omikuji. The eyes that captured my attention so easily bore into me now, making me squirm inside. I’m paralyzed as to what to do, so I stand and wait.

  Out of the same doorway comes the man who was with Sakai on New Year’s Eve at Izakaya Tanaka. With his silver, close-cropped hair and scar on his left jaw, he approaches me, smiling.

  “Well, well, Mark. She is Junko’s girl, for sure. The same face from when we were little.”

  Another person who knew my family. I’d be delighted if I weren’t frozen in place. The two men nod to each other while I shift uncomfortably. I’m trying to keep my face as passive as possible but it’s difficult. Jiro. I was sure I’d run into him eventually, what with Miko dating his older brother and Sakai and Jiro running errands all over the city together, but I was hoping it would be in some official capacity. Maybe I could flirt and talk to him. Maybe even ask him on a date. But Sakai said there’d be training today. This is a disaster.

  Sakai clears his throat which makes me jump and jolts me out of my thoughts. Great. Sakai can already tell this is making me uncomfortable.

  “Sanaa, this is Koichi Itō, and his son, Jiro, whom you’ve met before. As you have probably guessed, you will be learning to sword fight with them.”

  Fantastic. A guy who is totally my type and any prospect of romance is about to be submarined by a business relationship, a teacher-student relationship. How the hell am I going to pull this off when I’ve already flirted with him once before?

  Jiro is studying me, gauging me like Sakai often does. This must be a family trait. Looking at the three of them together, they are definitely related. They could all practically be triplets in their Nishikyō grays and solemn expressions. I sigh and turn to Sakai for reassurance as he lays a hand on my shoulder. This is not what I expected to happen today.

  “Sanaa, I know your mother never cared for sword fighting, but, since you’re already more than proficient in karate, I figured this was the next logical step.” Sakai turns to Jiro. “Don’t think she can be easily defeated, Jiro.”

  Sakai is boasting about my skills? I want to tell him to shut up before he gets me in trouble, but he seems sincere. “She has her father’s determination.”

  Sakai’s eyes are hard on Jiro, and the two stare at each other stonily before Jiro gives in.

  “Hmmm, we’ll see,” Jiro says, walking to the wall of wooden swords. Uh oh. I think I’m about to be tested. Too much talk.

  He takes two of the smaller swords and tosses one to me which I fumble and drop on the ground. I am so unprepared my face practically bursts into flames. I reach down and pick up the sword, copying Jiro’s stance, but he hasn’t made a move to lunge at me like I thought he would. Instead, he is watching me stare at the sword.

  “It’s real wood,” I exclaim. The strong grain weaves up the side, and I follow the wavering line all the way to the tip with my fingers. The sword is nicked and dented more times than I can count.

  “We’ve had them for centuries.” Jiro smiles at me, holding his sword tip-down in front of him. “Passed down through our family for generations. Newer ones are available, but they’re all composite.”

  I heft the sword in my hand. Light but sturdy. Surely fighting with a sword can’t be that different from fighting with your hands. What have I gotten myself
into? I smile at him, and move a few steps back, my eyes set firmly on his sword.

  Jiro lunges forward, and my sword clatters to the ground. Well, that didn’t take long. He places his sword back in his obi belt tied around his waist and waits for me to pick the sword back up again, which I do.

  I’m not one for being beaten without putting up a fight. This time, I attack first, but Jiro is so fast. He draws his sword and cuts down on my attack. My body moves left and down, putting me at Jiro’s back. I want to stay loose and on my toes to get the advantage, but he reaches out so easily, and my sword is gone. Jiro’s three subsequent slashes meet air as I dodge out of the way.

  “Stop!” Sakai barks. “Sanaa, you have much to learn.”

  I stumble but pull myself up to bow to Jiro and Koichi. “I’ve never held a sword before! What did you all expect? I certainly wasn’t going to let him hit me with that.”

  Jiro rolls his eyes, and I immediately want to hit him. Wow, he’s cocky.

  “If you think I would hurt you with this, you should give up now. I’ve been training with the sword all my life. I can fight and disarm you without ever even touching you.” He moves in close to me, so close his breath is on my cheek. I freeze in place. He is intimidating, and I should be afraid of him, but I’m not. In fact, he just became ten times more attractive, and blood is rushing to neck. Calm your beating heart, Sanaa. “You will learn.”

  “Possibly the hard way,” Koichi says.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “We’ll see about that.” Obviously, I’m a glutton for punishment. I pick up the sword. “Again.”

  Jiro comes at me high and this time I’m prepared for the force of his attack. I block left, then right, and parry a lunge, but he is fast and comes back at my side on the rebound. The touch of his sword is light against my ribs, arrogantly showing me I’ve lost. Anger causes me to fall away from the sword and kick out at his feet on the way down. With a yell, he falls on top of me, and our swords fly in opposite directions.