The Creative Fire: 1 (Ruby's Song)

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The Creative Fire: 1 (Ruby's Song) Page 19

by Brenda Cooper


  He came in without her knowing, fell asleep without actually checking on her. Nonetheless, she felt sure that if an army appeared at her door, he would wake up and take them out.

  She leaned against the counter and sipped the stim too fast, then cursed. She couldn’t burn her mouth, not now. Her first recording came out today, and there was a chance she’d be asked to sing “Gray Matters” live.

  Dayn wandered into the kitchen, rumple-shirted, raising an eyebrow at her naked legs. “Don’t you ever wake up in a good mood?”

  “Only when you’re not here.”

  Dayn reached around to pour his own cup and stood a little too close. “What does Fox have that women love so much? That’s what I want to know.”

  Ruby ignored him, staring at the day’s news vid. The story flipped from a video showing a sludgy breakdown in one of the recycling plants to a picture of her. She smiled out of the screen, tilting her head.

  She nearly dropped her cup.

  Two days ago, Jali told her to pose as if there was a camera in the room. Jali had driven her to exaggerate until Ruby’s cheeks had turned bright red with embarrassment. She’d been glad there was no camera, but apparently there had been, and she was hot in the face again as she watched herself preen. She looked better than she’d ever seen herself, and sexy, and she liked it and didn’t like it all at once.

  Dayn gave a low whistle. She frowned, keeping her eyes glued to the picture of herself on the screen.

  Fox’s voice spoke over the image of Ruby as it kept changing perspective. “This is Fox Winter, reminding you that tonight is the release you’ve all been waiting for. Ruby Martin with her new breakout song, “Gray Matters.” Yes, that’s right, the gray woman who came up to sing for us. Her voice is as beautiful as her figure. I promise. Listen in to the entertainment hour right after dinner tonight.”

  The vid slipped to a picture of a sun and planets, and someone else started talking up a class in the orbital mechanics of the Adiamo system, but Ruby still saw her face burned onto the screen.

  Dayn watched her with an amused look on his face. “That’s probably where he was. Doing something special for you.”

  She frowned at him and didn’t respond, still shocked at the idea of being on the screen.

  Dayn shook his head and left her, settling on the couch and staring intently at his journal.

  She swallowed and took another sip. Fox could have told her instead of just not showing up, but she wasn’t going to complain to Dayn. Instead, she paced and ate fruit and paced some more. What would happen if people didn’t like her? They’d recorded the song over and over, and Fox had made her work with two different voice teachers. Mala had taught her how to make her voice sound big, so people could hear it from farther away than she was used to, and Henri had worked with her to coax out long, low notes she hadn’t known she could sing.

  She refilled her stim cup even though she usually only drank one. She’d written “Gray Matters,” and Fox had gone over the words twice. She wrote it to tell a little of her story to the people here.

  She wished it would play on the gray levels. She wanted Onor and Marcelle to hear it on their journals. Music that passed between had to be approved, though, and Fox had shook his head and said, “No way,” when she’d asked.

  She paced, nervous. What if no one liked her song? What if it made Sylva chase her down? Her stomach was weaker than it had ever been before a performance, her hands clammy.

  The door opened and Fox stuck his head in. “Did you see it?”

  She set her cup down and went over to him, no longer angry. “Thank you.”

  “You looked good. Even Jali said so.”

  “Jali never says anything nice.”

  Fox gave Ruby a faint glare. “Of course she does.”

  “She’s jealous, you know.”

  He grinned. “Nah. Not at all. She gets dates when she wants them. She almost had a kid with her last one, Eric something or other.”

  Ruby kissed him. “But she left him for you.”

  He frowned at her. “Don’t you be jealous.” She blocked his access to the kitchen.

  He waved her sideways.

  She gave him a kiss before relenting and making room for him to come in. “Stim?”

  “Sure.”

  She gave him the sexiest glance she could manage. “I missed you last night.”

  “You needed to sleep. We have a busy day.”

  “The release isn’t until dinner.”

  Dayn came in and deposited his cup in the sink. “I’m heading out before the flirting around here chokes me.”

  After he left, Ruby and Fox both burst out laughing. Ruby pressed her body close to Fox’s, but he pushed her gently away. “I’m taking you to a class.”

  “What? Today?” She grinned at him. “I heard there’s one on orbital mechanics.” She lowered her eyes and looked at him through her lashes, daring him to come near. Sometimes he toyed with her, knowing how much she wanted his touch and withholding it even though he wanted hers as much. Eventually he laughed and stepped over and held her in his arms.

  She took in a deep breath, breathing him into her, feeling connected. After three breaths like that, long and slow on the last exhale, she felt more grounded.

  “Did Jali teach you that?” Fox asked.

  “What? Belly breathing?”

  “Yes.”

  “My very first voice teacher made me learn to breathe. She said it’s a way for me to straighten my spine.”

  He shook his head, amused. “You’ve got plenty of spine. Today, I want you to be seen. This is a popular class. Part stretching, part martial arts. Jali has been pestering me about getting you started—she swears it will make you more graceful.” He picked up her chin so they were looking right at each other. “Besides, I always make my favorite artists try something fresh on scary days. Otherwise, you’ll obsess.”

  She pushed at him playfully. “I won’t.”

  “What were you thinking about before I came in?”

  “You.”

  He pulled her close to him and kissed the back of her neck. “Go change into something comfortable. Something you can move in.”

  This was a good sign. She hadn’t been anywhere since she got here except Jali’s and Fox’s studios, through the corridors, or to the tiny gym two habs down. Something entirely new made her light and bouncy on her feet.

  As soon as she’d changed, she came out and grinned at Fox. “Lead on.”

  Their destination turned out to be a modified storage hold that she figured hung between pods. Maybe even between levels. Here and whatever was inward of here. The large room was mostly empty, with mirrors all along one side and a few locked waist-high bins on the other side. Handholds on the walls indicated the room didn’t always have the same gravity. It smelled clean, and the air was a little chill.

  Ani and Dayn were there, along with most of the people she’d met in the corridors that first day. She looked for Jali but didn’t see her. There must be fifty people, and a few were still coming in. The mirror wall made it hard to count.

  Fox whispered, “I’ll come back for you,” and turned. Ruby frowned at his retreating back.

  She heard her name called and stepped carefully around people sitting and stretching until she reached Ani. The floor gave disturbingly under her feet. The quiet talk that wreathed the full room sounded anticipatory. She didn’t remember any group exercise sessions at home that didn’t feel forced. She’d always tried to find excuses to get out of them so that she could get in her mandatory workouts solo, running or lifting weights.

  Ani grinned at her. “Don’t look so grumpy. He’ll be back. He’s always like this the day something he cares about happens.”

  “Yeah, so what? He abandons his girlfriends?” She hated the words as soon as they were out of her mouth; they were weak words. “So tell me about this?” Ruby asked.

  Ani pointed at a door in the far wall, which was opening. “No time. You’ll have to lea
rn as we go.”

  A tall man who appeared to be all muscle and seriousness, with dark hair and dark eyes, came through the door. He wore a loose, flowing outfit with sleeves just past the elbow. His feet were bare. The dark cloth clung to his contours, showing off clear demarcations between muscle groups.

  The room quieted instantly, all attention going to the man. “Good morning,” he called out, his voice loud, almost a bark. A ritual.

  “Good morning, KJ,” everyone replied in unison. Another ritual.

  Ruby felt awkward for not knowing the cue.

  As KJ walked from the door to the front by the mirrored wall, he glanced around the room in a single, graceful sweep. Ruby felt sure he noted her presence even though he didn’t slow down as his eyes raked across her.

  He stood with his feet squared loosely under his shoulders and his knees ever so slightly bent, arms relaxed at his side. His chin was so straight that she’d have bet he could balance a cup of water on his head.

  The rest of the class stood similarly.

  Ruby did her best to imitate them.

  KJ’s arms rose above his head and met, palm to palm, and he stretched high, looking relentlessly forward while he appeared to be gaining height.

  She did the same, a full half step behind the class. Maybe more.

  He leaned forward, the movement fluid, one leg staying on the ground and the other rising up behind him.

  His balance was perfect.

  Ani breathed a little harder but held the pose exactly.

  Ruby bobbled.

  KJ swung the high leg from behind him down and brought it up in front of him, changing his center of gravity.

  Ruby followed so slowly that she missed the next change completely.

  So it went, Ruby a touch behind in every scripted move, a slide from side to side, a step, swivel, step, hold, and more. At one point, she gasped in surprise, realizing that Jali had been teaching her some of these moves in her private studio.

  She missed a whole turn and faced KJ while everyone else faced away from her. Her cheeks flushed hot and she turned back as fast as she could.

  Ani whispered to her, “Watch my breath.”

  Ruby tried, and missed another beat.

  “Start where I am,” Ani urged.

  Stretch, twist, turn, stop, lie down, stretch the right leg over the body and to the floor, do the same with the left, roll onto stomach, push up . . .

  Sweat trickled down her back.

  She was going to have to redo her hair before the opening of her song. That was the last thought she had that wasn’t about following and breathing and staying with the class.

  At some point, music seeped into the room, informing the rhythm of movement. It helped her immensely.

  She almost caught up, a few of the transitions feeling almost natural.

  The music began to rise and speed up. KJ’s movements matched it.

  The students all leaned forward, balanced on one foot, the other foot out behind them, arms out to either side, head up.

  She overbalanced and almost fell on her face.

  She stood while the others held a pose, perfectly and irritatingly still, that brought their backs horizontal to the ground.

  She glanced at KJ, hoping he was looking the other way.

  His eyes met hers, full of suppressed laughter, which was the last thing she’d expected to notice on his face. He mouthed the words, “You’re doing well.”

  Without thinking, she stuck her tongue out at him, a silent response to his silent words.

  He grinned, but didn’t bobble at all.

  She turned away, afraid she’d get lost in belly laughter and break the concentration of the entire class.

  Before she could resume the one-footed pose, KJ clapped loudly. Everyone else stood. The music stopped.

  He walked out of the room the same way he had come in. If he had broken a sweat, she couldn’t tell. This time he didn’t look over his shoulder or look across the room at all, and Ruby had the absurd thought that maybe he didn’t want to meet her eyes in case he laughed out loud.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, people began drifting toward the other doors, conversing quietly.

  Ani turned to Ruby. “Wasn’t that wonderful?”

  Ruby grinned. “Yeah. It was. Tell me about KJ?”

  “What about him?”

  “I haven’t seen him before. Or heard of him. He’s interesting.”

  Ani laughed, her voice brittle. “Don’t break your heart on him. He doesn’t like women.”

  “He likes men?”

  Ani shook her head. “I don’t know. But he doesn’t like women. Or at least he doesn’t have any. Give it up.”

  “Hey! I’m with Fox.”

  A dark look passed momentarily over Ani’s face, but she followed it with a broad smile. “I’ll tell you what I know. This is what KJ does. Like you sing and Fox records and markets and Dayn takes care of Fox. Like I manage the flow of food from garden to table. KJ teaches movement. And he’s very, very good at it.”

  “I never saw him before.”

  “We don’t much. Not outside of class. I’ve maybe talked to him two or three times in my whole life.”

  “But you’d like to, wouldn’t you?”

  Ani lowered her eyes and looked away, momentarily more vulnerable than Ruby had ever seen her. “Me and half the rest of the women here. He’s beautiful.”

  Ruby felt oddly disappointed. “How often does he teach this?”

  “Four times a day.” They sidestepped three women who had stopped to talk almost directly in the doorway.

  Wow. “How does he have the energy for four times a day?”

  “This is what he does.”

  They were in the corridor now. Someone bumped Ruby from behind, pushing a little, jostling her into Ani. Hot, spicy breath whispered into Ruby’s ear. “Whore.” The word had spilled out of a slender woman with short brown hair teased up into spikes. Just the one word and she was past them, walking with meaning.

  “Bitch!” Ani called after her, the word meant to carry, to label rather than challenge. More like acknowledgment.

  “What’d she call me?” Ruby muttered, off balance. Although she was being watched over as if she might break or be stolen any moment, she hadn’t seen any fighting on this level. Everything looked like love and respect and a darned good time for all. “Who was that?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Who was that?”

  “Chance. One of Fox’s old girlfriends.”

  One of? No wonder she hadn’t liked the woman. Ruby clamped her mouth shut, not wanting to destroy the glow of the exercise or say anything bad today, when her first song here was coming out and it mattered whether people liked her. She should think about that now, focus on her debut.

  29: Joel

  Onor ran. Conroy ran beside him. Onor’s breath sounded louder and more desperate than his teacher’s, but only by a little. He glanced at Conroy, hoping he was nearly ready for a break. Only small bits of sweat brightened Conroy’s face, and his strides fell precisely, just fast enough to keep Onor a little ahead of the pace he liked.

  Sometimes the split-lipped man, Aric, led the night’s work. On Aric’s nights they fought each other barehanded, back and forth across the vast floor until they were almost all bruised. On Conroy’s nights, they ran a lot, climbed the walls using the handholds, and lined up and raced each other until Onor’s breath made fire in his chest and his thighs burned.

  This was Conroy’s night; there would be no fighting.

  Maybe there would be no rest either. They rounded the whole floor again and again.

  Onor’s legs turned soft and hot.

  Conroy and Onor lapped Penny for a second time, and finally Conroy put up his hands and slowed to a walk. As he did, he leaned over to Onor and said, “Someone important is going visit us tonight. Listen well.”

  The slower pace snaked through the group unevenly, a few stragglers still running here a
nd there until they realized they could stop.

  Conroy led them in a chain through two or three more circles until they were gathered near the middle and their breath had lost its ragged edge. An overhead light threw a pale, yellowish cast across sweaty faces.

  “Very good,” he said. “Now form lines.”

  They did, nine lines of about six people each. They sprinted from side to side, catcalling to each other.

  The last relay racer started back, and Onor readied himself, one leg bent, his body leaning forward. When his teammate tagged him, he took off, going all out, reaching for longer strides. By the time he touched the far wall and returned, his lungs ached and his labored breathing drowned all but the closest sounds.

  After three relays, Conroy drove them through sit-ups and push-ups.

  Then he had them all gather in a circle. He said, “You did well, tonight. I’m glad, because you’ve been watched this practice by someone who matters very much to us.”

  The others seemed to know what would be happening. Onor felt content to sit, so glad to be able to stop moving he didn’t actually care what was coming next. All of the long muscles in his legs burned, and his lungs burned even harder.

  Before he felt entirely rested, a man stepped silently out of the shadows. He stood in a spot too dark for Onor to really see his features, but he walked with power. Like Conroy, only more so. He wasn’t as big as Conroy, and there was enough light to see that his hair was graying. His uniform might be black or even dark green. It looked cut to fit him and new.

  Behind Onor, someone whispered, “Joel,” and was shushed.

  Conroy confirmed the whisper. “This is Joel. He is part of the power on The Creative Fire, a man high in our command. He helps plan the future we’ll all share. I only met him myself a few weeks ago, and you should feel trusted and privileged that he has come here.”

  Joel cleared his throat and spoke slightly louder than Conroy had, his voice meant to be a call for action, a bit of theater. “Thank you for the work you are doing here. I have heard a lot about you, and I’m pleased to meet you.”

 

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