Spinning Starlight

by R. C. Lewis

  His own expression is a combination of relaxed and eager as he offers me his hand. “Please? I want to show you something. I think you’ll like it.”

  My resistance melts, and I take the offered hand. The work will wait.

  The streamer ride is what it always is, if a little longer than usual, and I’m glad when it’s over. Upon opening my eyes and getting out, however, I have no idea where we are. No sign of the buildings of Podra, and no sign of the usual hills and woods surrounding it, or the mountains in the distance. This place is flatter. I turn, and maybe I do see the mountains, much farther away than before. I can only see them at all because one of the smaller moons is peeking over the edge.

  Tiav takes my hand again and guides me in the opposite direction. “Over here. Come on.”

  Several steps away from the streamer, I’m able to see enough to know the ground ends just ahead of us, because there’s something else out there. The ocean. We’re on a cliff above it. Tiav tries to lead me right to the edge, but I hold back. It’s hundreds of feet down if it’s an inch. His grip on my hand tightens as his thumb gently runs along mine, sending a shiver up my arm.

  “It’ll be okay, Liddi, I promise,” he says. “And it’s worth it, but you have to see only the ocean and the sky.”

  He’s never lied to me yet, so I take the last few steps and carefully lower myself to sit with him, our feet just inches from the edge. A mix of vertigo and euphoria slides from my stomach up to my head, but then it settles, and I see what he means. Just the ocean and the sky, one reflecting the other, going on and on to the edge of the world.

  It silences the constant “I-should-be-doing-something” in my head.

  My hand is still in his, and neither of us makes any move to let go. I watch the waves undulate, lightly rippling the reflected moons and stars. The saltiness in the air carries all the way up here, and I imagine during the day the sounds of sea birds would surround us. It’s beautiful, and I’m glad Tiav brought me. We have nothing like this on Sampati, nothing so peaceful and big. Maybe the view is old and boring to Tiav, though, because he’s watching me. I don’t have to check to know it. Being watched is familiar…but there’s something less familiar in this.

  The break in the silence is gentle, his voice just loud enough for me to hear. “I have to tell you something, Liddi. I want to kiss you.”

  That’s enough to pull my gaze from the ocean. I look at him and try to figure out why he would say that. He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know anything about me.

  The corner of his mouth turns up into half a smile. “I’m getting pretty good at this game. You’re thinking that I can’t possibly know enough about you to want to kiss you. Other than how you look, maybe—which doesn’t hurt, by the way—but there’s more. You haven’t needed your voice to show me who you are. The way you played gedek, how you light up when you’re working on tech, even your frustration with writing…You also don’t need your voice to tell me to back off if that’s what you want.”

  Maybe all he doesn’t know is a good thing. He doesn’t know I’m set to be the richest girl in the Seven Points. He doesn’t know I’m a disappointment to the Jantzen family name. He doesn’t know how completely I’m failing my brothers. He wants to kiss me anyway.

  I want him to kiss me.

  So he does.

  It’s a blanket wrapping around me and a fire searing my veins at the same time. Sharing a breath, like his voice could be both of ours. His hand releases mine so it can find its way to my back, teasing my spine with its light touch. As I grip the front of his shirt, his other hand brushes against my cheek, then slides down to my neck. He’s gentle, careful, like he doesn’t want to break me. I draw him closer, but then his thumb slides over the implant in my throat, adding to its everpresent pressure, and I wince.

  Tiav pulls back, his eyes overflowing with both curiosity and concern. “What’s that?” He traces his fingers over the implant until I shy away. “Is that why you won’t talk?”

  I nod. Finally, I’m able to give him a bit of truth.

  A smile breaks across his lips. “Then we can go to Jahmari. He’ll know how to remove it, or one of the other doctors will.”

  No. No, we can’t do that. Minali’s no null-skull. She’ll have some kind of fail-safe if anyone tries to remove or tamper with the device. I shake my head and ease Tiav back, but he catches my hands in his. They’re warm and strong, tempting me with the lie that everything is okay when it isn’t.

  “Something bad will happen?” My nod brings a twist of despair to his eyes. “I hate this, Liddi. Not understanding. I’m good at the game, but I can’t guess this. You’re in danger at home and can’t tell me what kind. You can’t speak—someone’s done something to you to make sure of it—and you can’t tell me why. All I want is to help you, to fix it. To find who did this to you and make it right.”

  I wonder if he’d feel the same way if he knew how much the Khua are entwined in the situation. If he knew what it would mean to the Agnac. I remember what he said after I was arrested, how some people questioned his respect for the Khua. This would be much worse.

  Tiav would have to choose the Khua over me. His duty, his life, his world. Just like I’d choose my brothers over him…if I had to.

  He tangles his fingers in my hair, bringing me close. “Whatever it takes, I’ll help you. I’ll find a way to understand. I won’t stop until I can hear your voice.”

  I take his face in my hands and kiss him again, hoping he hears the words.

  I know.

  When Fabin’s warning about being late got no response from Liddi, he went to her room to see what was keeping her. His little sister hadn’t even started getting ready for their evening at the theater. She sat on her bed, staring at the open closet, though it was unlikely she could see anything through the flood of tears.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Liddi said nothing, just pointed to the wallscreen where a media-cast was queued.

  Fabin started the playback but still didn’t see the problem. Just a standard fluffy report on Liddi attending a fashion show with Anton.

  Then he saw Liddi had enabled the chat-line tagged onto the end of the report, and the tears made a lot more sense.

  “How could any designer let her come into their show looking like that?”

  “She always looks like that. All the designers in the Seven Points together can’t save her from those stick-arms.”

  “You’d think she’d learn something after thirteen years of being spoiled rotten.”

  “She’s such a fake. I wish she’d just die already like her par—”

  Fabin deactivated the screen and sat with Liddi, letting her cry a little longer. “Don’t listen to them,” he finally said. “Seriously, chat-lines are useless, and those people are jealous and full of hate. They think it’s okay to hurt you because they don’t know you—you’re not a person to them.”

  “But the other kind is just as bad!” Liddi protested. “Pretending they like me but they don’t. They don’t know anything, they just want the attention. They don’t know me, either.”

  A sigh was Fabin’s only answer at first. “The Jantzen family legacy. People fawning over us on one hand, then celebrating every misstep on the other. And you have it worse than the rest of us. Since you inherit, they’ve decided you’re fair game.”

  “There’s nothing fair about it!”

  He gave her a squeeze. “No, there’s not. But there are good people out there who’ll see past the flashy media-casts. I promise. Just keep being yourself, and they’ll find you.”

  GOING BACK TO TIAV’S HOME is a little strange. Not that I don’t have my own space—I’ve still never figured out exactly where his room is in the labyrinthine penthouse. But the one time Reb Vester made the mistake of kissing me, we didn’t have to sleep under the same roof. And this wasn’t a mistake, and my brothers aren’t here, and I just don’t know what it is.

  We run into Shiin as soon as the eleva
tor doors open. Tiav is still holding my hand. His mother’s reaction is difficult to read.

  “How did today go?” she asks.

  Tiav glances at me before answering. “Good. Liddi definitely has a knack for electronics.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Shiin says with a small, distracted smile. “I’m going to the Khua, but I’ll be back soon. Sleep well.”

  Once she leaves, I turn to Tiav with the question in my eyes. Maybe a few questions.

  “It’s an Aelo thing. We can’t sleep if something’s bothering us. Especially my mother—she’s the one who started the practice of really asking the Khua things beyond ‘Do you mind blocking off the Lost Points?’ Before that, Aelo were more passive ‘listeners.’ Not that asking always leads anywhere, but it’s better. Feels more like moving forward.”

  I point to the door Shiin just went through.

  “What’s she going for now? Could be anything. Remember I told you the Khua have been more confusing than usual lately? My mother’s set on unraveling it.” He must catch the look in my eyes, because he quickly adds, “Don’t worry, nothing to do with you. It started before you arrived.”

  That’s a relief, but I was right—that’s not the only question I have. When he figures out the other one, he slides an arm around my shoulders to hold me close. I’m surprised at how easily I relax into his embrace.

  “She trusts me to make my own decisions. And I’m pretty sure she likes you. She’ll be fine.”

  I hope that’s true. I didn’t make the best first impression. Shiin probably prefers her son not get involved with girls who get arrested.

  Tiav still hasn’t let me go when he sighs. “I should probably let you get some sleep, shouldn’t I?” I glare up at him, remembering he was the first one to yawn before we headed back, and he laughs. “Okay, maybe you should let me get some sleep.”

  He walks me to my room, and I find myself lingering in his kiss good night before letting him go. For once I sleep without nightmares of my brothers. Silence doesn’t suffocate me, and I’m not alone.

  The next day is full of normal-but-not. Tiav and I work on my latest tinkering endeavor, but he sits a little closer to me. He talks and I write, but his patient smiles distract me from what I want to say.

  After I’ve built my own live-comm unit—for no particular reason, because I certainly can’t speak to use it—Tiav asks his usual question.

  “What do you want to make next?”

  “Vid cam. Lyke on Sam-pah-tee.” Actually, I have an idea how to make my worst nightmare, one that’s even smaller and doesn’t buzz. I get a perverse sort of pleasure knowing the media-grubs will never see it.

  Tiav looks at the few bits and pieces left on the desk. “We definitely need more parts, and probably better tools. I know a good place to look. Let’s go.”

  We’ve been on shop runs before, sometimes all the way across Podra. This one is close enough to walk, which means an excuse for Tiav to hold my hand again.

  People notice. Unsurprising since they always notice Tiav, but now they start to notice me. Some look curious. Some just smile. A pair of Haleians look like they can’t be bothered to care, as long as we make space for them on the walkway.

  The shop Tiav pointed out is just ahead, but so is something else. A large group of Agnac. They’ve seen us, and even with the differences in alien expressions, I can tell they’re not happy.

  “There she is!”

  “I see her!”

  The second shout comes from behind us. More Agnac approach from that side.

  Approach very, very quickly.

  In the time it takes for the shock to register in Tiav’s eyes, they’re on us. Too close, pressing in, I can’t breathe. Tiav’s arms lock around me as he demands to know what’s going on, but the Agnac voices drown him out. Most of them use their own language, but I make out a few words.

  “—trespasser—”

  “—must stop—”

  “—Lost Points—”

  “—heathen!”

  They know! They found out where I’m from, and their reaction is just as bad as I feared.

  No, worse.

  They grab at me, their rough hands scraping everything they touch, but I cling to Tiav. He’s one of their Aelo. They’d never hurt him. With him I’m safe.

  Someone behind me gets a grip on my arms and pries us apart. Someone else pushes Tiav away from me.

  “Liddi!”

  I want to call his name back, I want it more than anything, and the tightness in my throat barely stops me. Already I’ve lost sight of him in the mob of Agnac with their shaggy manes and odd noses, shoving me and shouting at me. Others on the street have realized what’s happening, Ferinnes and Haleians and Crimna. Some shout for me to be left alone, while others hear what the Agnac say about me coming from Sampati and join in their outrage.

  One of the Agnac takes a swing at me. I block and swing back, making contact and setting blood streaming from his four nostrils.

  It was instinct, what my brothers taught me to do. But it wasn’t smart.

  Fists fly from every direction, and I can’t block them all. One to the stomach, one to the back, then one clips my head and I can’t count them anymore. Some keep hitting me, some hit each other. I bite my lip because I can’t speak, I can’t cry out, not even a little.

  “Stop! Liddi!”

  “Leave her alone!”

  “Heathen!”

  I spot an opening in the mob and break for it. Something clamps on to my ankles, and I go down hard. No more worrying about fists—my world is a sea of feet. Agnac kick better than they punch.

  Do not cry out, Liddi, just don’t cry out, not one noise, not one sound—

  A weight crashes onto my leg. I bite down on my fist as a bone snaps.

  Pain burns through me, I have to let it out but I can’t I can’t I can’t.

  I’m not sure if it’s the strain or if someone kicks me in the head. Either way, I’m grateful when blackness creeps in.

  The gratitude doesn’t last long. I come around, still enveloped in chaos, but with a breath of space. That breath is getting bigger, too. No one’s hitting or kicking me anymore.

  Good thing, because the pain I’ve already got is enough to make me want to throw up. I fight back the tears, afraid if I let them go, my voice will go with them. Every place a punch or kick landed throbs with its own beat, and my leg…I’d rather have my leg cut clean off than this.

  In all my years of dealing with media-grubs and crowded parties, nothing like this ever happened. No one on Sampati would dare. They can gossip about us all they want, they can lie about us and call us names, but the penalty for physically attacking a Jantzen would be too severe.

  I don’t know what the penalty here will be, but as I writhe in agony, I do spot some keepers hauling people away. Then I spot something that makes me want to give in to my urge to cry—Tiav’s face when he sees my state.

  “Liddi?” He rushes over and crouches by me, taking my hand. Finally I have somewhere to direct my desire to scream, though it might result in his hand getting crushed. “Sparks…what did they do to you? Can you get up?”

  Oh, so definitely not. I point to my leg. I’ve broken it before, so I know this feeling.

  “Sparks,” he says again. The way he says it sounds like the kind of word my brothers tell me not to get caught saying on vid-cam. Tiav looks around desperately, his eyes lighting up when they find something. “Jahmari!”

  “On my way, on my way. Liddi! Oh, dear. This is more than a few scratches, isn’t it?” The Crimna doctor settles on my other side and begins to assess the damage, but Tiav interrupts him.

  “Painkiller first. Now. She can’t hold her voice in forever like this.”

  Jahmari’s head tilt reads as curious, but I’m just glad Tiav figured that much out. My bone-splitting grip was probably his first clue.

  For the painkiller, I expect an infusion or maybe injection. Instead, Jahmari takes a tiny device from his kit
and attaches it to my temple. The edges soften instantly. I still know I hurt, and I have no intention of moving, but I don’t have the desire to perform my own amputation anymore.

  The doctor returns to cataloguing my injuries. I’m not sure what exactly he’s doing. Or what anyone’s doing. The motion around me is different. Everything is. Slower and faster and hard to understand.

  That device “fuzzied” more than just the pain, Liddi.

  One corner of my brain keeps enough sharpness to stop me from speaking, which is good, because I’d really like to say “What?” a lot, but I shouldn’t. Things move. I move. Jahmari and Tiav are still with me, though, in some kind of vehicle. Probably a form of streamer, but I can’t see outside, so I don’t care. The two of them talk, and their words swim over me.

  “I was on my way to the Nyum when I saw the unpleasantness. What happened?”

  “The Agnac found out where she came from.”

  “How? Your mother was very clear about the confidentiality of that information.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure I know how.”

  Silence, then more moving. The vehicle roof turns into the sky turns into a ceiling. It flows past my eyes like a river, then stops. Hospital? Blinking lights and energy beams, Jahmari looking over everything on his scanners, Tiav looking at me. Just me.

  “What’s this?” Jahmari asks.

  Tiav squeezes my hand again. “I don’t know, but it’s why she won’t talk. She seemed afraid something bad would happen if you removed it.”

  They found the implant.

  “Ah, she may be right.” Jahmari sounds disappointed. “Quite a complicated little thing, may have all kinds of triggering mechanisms. Shame, shame. And look, here’s another one, quite well hidden.”

  “What’s that one for?”

  Reporting my death to Tarix, should it happen, but I can’t tell them that.

  “No idea. There, that bone should be finished mending. Let’s see.”

  Jahmari ticks off a list of other injuries I don’t want to think about, particularly since he’s saying they’ve been fixed. No use worrying about them now.