Star Child: Places of Power

by Leonard Petracci

  Then I blinked, feeling Lucio’s touch inside my mind that pulled away the thoughts, and looked to the other Bottoms as they cringed before Siri, some even balled up, their feet folded under their seats and hands in their armpits. As if they had been caught by a parent in a truly heinous act, like torturing a pet, or standing before a judge after committing a murder. And I realized that was what I had felt just a moment before.

  When Siri finished speaking, it was the responsibility of the Bottoms to clean and restore the arena, the work taking several hours and lasting long past dinner. I went to bed hungry and exhausted, taking my belongings to the holding cells downstairs, and was packed together inside one with several other bottoms. We shivered through the night, our only blankets the clothes on our backs and our laundry, which still allowed the concrete floor to wick away the heat and grind against pointed bones.

  And at one in the morning, I gave up on sleep. Even keeping my eyes shut had proved difficult as I realized I had no inkling of a plan. As I wondered if perhaps it was better to escape the facility and try to teach myself to fight, to take Lucio and Darian with me and work together, to start something new. But I knew that even together, we would be unable to imitate the lessons given by Instructors Linns and Peregrine, and that somewhere out there, The Hunter was waiting for me to reappear, and that he was ready to attack.

  I turned to look at Darian in the darkness, knowing that in the morning, I would have to convince him to stay or risk exposing my power. That he would take nothing less than a concrete objective, and that might not even be enough prevent him from leaving.

  Sitting up, I left the others in the holding cell, the lack of their snoring meaning that I was likely not the only one who would be exhausted in the morning. And I started walking towards the place I had heard Siri and Peregrine a few nights before, my spirits leaping as I saw the familiar light and the voices ahead, and I stood stock still listening for their conversation.

  “I need space,” Peregrine was saying, his voice rushed. “And he’s making that next to impossible. You said you would take care of him.”

  “I did, and I will,” Siri responded, her voice annoyed. “She starts full time tomorrow, just like several of our other previous commuters, and he won’t dare come near again without a reason from the police. And the police know better than to come snooping. Relax, Peregrine, the situation is under control. We’ve talked about this every night for months. Your paranoia is starting to be more of a problem than the police.”

  From my position, I shifted, moving closer to hear the voices more clearly and hide behind the broom closet door, holding my breath, praying for details that would help my situation.

  “Siri, I’m mere weeks away from completion, and when this project is finished, it will be far more dangerous than it is now. Without secrecy, we lose all advantage. But when it’s finished, the advantage will be incredible. I trust you’ve secured the building for the new facility?”

  “Of course I have, Peregrine. All the steps have been taken, and your secrecy is top priority in exchange for your loyalty. Nothing is going to happen, even if they knew about our project, they wouldn’t be able to find it. And The Hunter's daughter starts full time tomorrow, so he's under our thumb.”

  And as Siri spoke the next few words, the muscles in my shoulders tensed, and I felt a chill run from my neck to my ankles, and I bit the inside of my lip to keep from gasping.

  “Every precaution has been taken. The location, The Hunter, the distractions, the maid we captured for you to keep your precious project out of their prying eyes. Now focus on finishing it. You're driving me over the edge.”

  And she changed the quality of her voice, song entering it. “And leave the rest to me and retire for the night.”

  “Of course, Siri,” he answered, his voice slightly more dull than normal. “Of course.”

  He left the room, turning away from me and walking down the hall, not seeing me from my hiding place behind the closet door. And from within the room, Siri started to sing once more, softly and to herself.

  Focus on the end and naught more,

  Forget what brought it there,

  Of those dashed upon the shore,

  Dust under the rug not shared.

  Forget father, who met his end,

  After his last command,

  I decided my will shan’t bend,

  When I took my final stand.

  Remember the power to move,

  To inspire, shake, to drive,

  Of loyalty they’re possessed to prove,

  When it means their very lives.

  “Of course, of course,” she muttered from within, her own voice now dull. Then she shut off the light and followed Peregrine’s steps into the darkness. "Focus."

  Chapter 49

  Thoughts raced in my mind as I hurried back to the holding cell and I repeated Siri’s discussion in my head.

  Even if they knew about our project, they wouldn’t be able to find it.

  The maid we captured for you to keep your precious project out of their eyes

  The maid, my mother, with her power to hide even the most obvious of details. That had to be who they were speaking about.

  Without secrecy, we lose all advantage.

  Now that Arial was at the facility full time, that secrecy would be a guarantee. For the first time in my life, I wished that the police would be more involved. That I actually wanted their help.

  And in my mind, a plan started to form, one that solidified with the slap of each of my footsteps against the cold tile floor. A risky plan, one that might even get me caught. But even if I was caught, it might be worth it. It might expose Siri and, in doing so, free my mother.

  I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I failed to see the shape growing larger in the darkness in front of me, the slightly darker blotch blending into the shadowy surroundings. Only once I walked into it did I jump backwards, feeling the cold hand that cupped the back of my neck, barely catching the scream in the back of my throat.

  There, hanging and just barely visible, was a body with a rope tied around its neck, swinging from the rafters from the force of my collision. The ankles dangled several feet off the floor, one of the shoes kicked off, and two swollen eyes staring forward like miniature full moons. And I recognized the face as I rushed forward to help him down, to see if I could still save him.

  Mason, who had lost the match earlier that day to Brianna.

  There was no warmth to him as I reached up to find the knot, stumbling over a chair in the darkness that he had used to climb upwards and fit his head through the noose. No breath passed through his lips, and as I felt his wrist, no blood pumped through his veins. Swallowing and shivering, I knew that there was no Mason left inside to save. And I pulled my hand away from the knot where I had started to untie it from my position now standing on the chair, and I hesitated.

  Then I climbed down and walked past Mason, leaving him alone in the darkness.

  Knowing that if I had been caught wandering the halls at this time of night, it would only raise questions. That Siri might suspect I had been listening in to her conversations. That I might find myself in a special session with her.

  And that helping Mason now would do nothing to bring him back, no matter how guilty I felt as he stared into my back.

  We were awakened the next morning with a scream down the hallway, and I worked to keep my face as confused as the others as we surged out of the holding cell, searching for the source, infusing my voice with panic as we caught sight of the body.

  It took little effort, and the fear came quick as I beckoned it – the details of Mason’s body in the daylight introduced fresh shock into my emotions. A shaft of sunlight caught him across his face as he twisted, the rope biting into his neck, and blood trickled down from where he had bit clean through one of his lips to stain his shirt to puddle on the floor.

  As Siri arrived, one of the guards cut the remains down, carting what was once Mason away, and sh
e spoke to the gathered crowd, her voice slow but not quite melancholy.

  “A terrible, terrible outcome,” she said, shaking her head. “Truly unfortunate, particularly considering we saved him from the streets. No family or relatives to speak of, and this is how he shows his gratitude. No, he shan't be remembered, not after this.”

  She shook her head again and placed two fingers over her lips before continuing to speak, turning from where Anthony had been to stare directly at the Bottoms.

  “Perhaps if he had been an Upper, this never would have happened.”

  Then she walked away, her heels clicking against the floor, her tightly wound hair bobbing with each step.

  “Oi,” said Slugger, gripping me by the shoulder. “Did you see this when you got up last night, SC? Be hard to miss, wouldn’t it?”

  Ahead, the sound of Siri’s steps stopped, and she half turned around, one pupil moving to look at me out of the corner of her eye.

  “Of course not,” I answered quickly. “Without dinner last night, my stomach was killing me. Just had to use the restroom is all. This sight made it no better. I'm going to be sick again.”

  Click, click, I heard as Siri’s steps resumed, and I quieted my sigh of relief as she turned the corner ahead. Around us, the other students made their way to the breakfast hall. One of them cracked a joke from ahead, and there was a chorus of laughter in response that changed from nervous to raucous. Then, just twenty minutes after finding Mason, we departed to our first class.

  After all, Siri had commanded that he would not be remembered.

  And the students obeyed.

  Chapter 50

  “Don’t even try, SC,” panted Darian after the morning run. Without sleep, we’d fallen into the back half and had to run extra laps as a result. As usual, Blake sneered from each passing lap, and even Connor was hot on our heels. Next to him jogged Wendy, who typically finished in the top third but had taken it upon herself to improve Connor’s times. And it was working.

  “Like I said, don’t even try,” he repeated, sweat trickling down from his forehead. “I’m leaving. After last night’s misery, it’s not worth it. I’m out, and we both know I have the means to do it.”

  I caught him by the elbow, my grip tight on where muscle met bone, my voice level but menacing.

  “You want to escape? Fine. But give me one more night,” I said. “One more, then you’re free. I’ll even give you a fresh dose of my power in case it has started to wear off. But we do this my way, understood?”

  “Understood.” The words came through gritted teeth, but they still came in agreement. “But don’t think you can keep putting this off.”

  “I don’t. This is for real, Darian, and part of the plan.” I stated, finally gaining control of my breathing. “Details tonight. And I can promise you more than just your freedom. How about a hot five-star meal and some special treatment? A soft bed in a top hotel?”

  “For that, I’ll wait, SC,” he continued and strode towards the body weight-training portion of the class. “What’s the plan?”

  “Tonight, we’ll talk tonight. There’s something I have to confirm first.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  After workouts, instead of reporting to Linns, we started a separate class, one tailored to the Bottoms alone. One vastly different than the Averages’ and led by Instructor Cane.

  “Welcome, welcome,” he said, tapping the board. “Fortunately, we are all acquainted! And I have the pleasure of seeing several faces that otherwise would have departed to be with my softer friend Linns. Fear not – I’ll be sure to make up for all the time you’ve missed.”

  He chuckled and turned on an old overhead projector, a flurry of dust rushing out of the vent as the fan kicked to life. And he pulled out a stack of transparent laminations, shuffling through them until he found a specific sheet and placed it on the flickering light. A few crumbs sprinkled over the image as he smacked a small chocolate chip cookie from a foot-tall tower on his left, and he pointed to Slugger before beginning.

  “Ay, milk maid, you’re still in my class, aren’t you? Don’t make me think you’re slacking this Monday morning – not if you ever want a figure as pristine as mine!”

  He laughed again and slapped his stomach, the reverberations rolling down to bulge resting on his knees, and gestured back to a small fridge in the back of the room.

  “Oi, wasn’t planning on making this prompt of a return,” groaned Slugger, sighing as he stood and made his way to the fridge. “Can’t you tell how excited I am to see you? It’s grand, just grand.”

  “Maybe you should have won your match then, princess,” retorted Cane. “Besides, I think you’ll find yourself far better suited here than above. And the rest of you would do well to think likewise. Ah, that’s it, just one glass for now. Froth it up!”

  Cane leaned to his right, where Lucio was sitting, and commented out of the side of his mouth like he was sharing a dirty secret.

  “Mind my words, Momentives make the top baristas. No one can froth a glass of milk the same way, and don’t even get me started on Momentive bakeries. Had a scone so light once, it floated out of my fingertips and into the sky. If I had my way with that one, he’d be in a different type of school right now.”

  “I’ll make ya a mean shepherd’s pie,” Slugger commented, shaking the glass, the milk scattering on the inside as if it had forgotten gravity. “The meanest.”

  “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you? So mean it would probably off me, wouldn’t it? That’d be a real stretch with my power, you’d have to make something so atrocious to earn a place in the history books. But we both know how much you’d miss me, that’s the real reason you’re back, isn’t it?”

  “Course it is,” Slugger answered and dropped the milk on the projector, letting a few drops splash over the edge. “Ya read me like a book. How much longer do I have to wait until the adoption papers are signed?”

  “Peh, I have standards. Why would I ever want to take in someone who wanted to be an Upper? Pure snobbery. Now, enough of this nonsense, back to the subject matter. And before moving forward, let’s clarify something. No matter what you hear, or what anyone else thinks, Bottom is where you want to be. It’s where you learn. And it’s where change occurs.”

  He cleared his throat, coughed, and turned a knob on the projector so the shadowed image came into focus. Squinting, I could see a pair of bodies moving around the screen, with arrows and shading highlighting certain muscle groups or regions, and step patterns etched underneath.

  “For those who are new, let me clarify my purpose. Here, I teach you not how to use your powers. Here, I teach you not technique that may fail you during inopportune circumstances or upon the nullification of your ability. No – here, I teach you to actually fight. And as many of you who used to be Averages have noticed, it works damn well across all the power ranges.”

  Chapter 51

  It wasn’t until lunch that I was able to talk to Arial.

  It’d been nearly a week since we had spoken more than a passing word – between training for the matches, Arial’s unavailability after school hours, and the events of the weekend, finding a spare moment was nearly impossible. Furthermore, since her personal interaction with Siri, any conversation was difficult to move past even the most basic of small talk – though she had been improving.

  “Congratulations on the match,” I said, placing my tray down on the table and sitting next to her. “Happy to see you won! How have you been?”

  “Of course I won,” she sniffed and rolled her eyes. “I was against a Bottom.”

  She moved her food tray away from me and shifted a foot on the bench, staring straight ahead, then swept her hair to the side to form a curtain between us. For a moment, she was silent, the muscles in her jaw working as she chewed, her lunch already three-quarters of the way finished since I had arrived late.

  “This isn’t the Bottom table,” she said to the air. “That would be over there.”


  I swallowed, then bit my lip, pausing. From anyone else, from a time before Siri, that statement would have warranted a harsh response. Growing up poor, I had received my fair share of dismissive comments from those more fortunate, from people who could not see past class, or thought that their powers from birth made them inherently better than me. But hearing it from Arial as she held her nose high in the air, and her words still bearing the slight slur of a person mildly intoxicated, I felt only concern. And I remembered when Siri had held a grasp on my mind, knowing first-hand the complete lack of self-awareness Arial now possessed.

  “Fine,” I countered, standing up and placing a palm on the table. “But if you want me to leave, you’ll need to answer a question first.”

  “I don’t have to do anything a Bottom tells me to do,” she huffed.

  From across the lunch room, there was a shout, and Arial turned bright red as Blake’s voice cut through the buzz of conversations.

  “Look at the two lovebirds! If I had standards that low, I’d be scouring the soup kitchen for dates! I suppose even devastating failure can’t stop true love!”

  The Upper table erupted into laughter, and several chairs away, Wendy whipped around to stare at Blake, then us.

  “I’m not—” Arial started, but then stopped and snapped at me, her brown eyes hard and no longer the inquisitive ones that had found me in the rhododendron when we met. “Make it quick, and don’t come back.”

  “Your father,” I started, crossing my arms in front in me as if they could block the words. “Does he still come by the school? What did he think when you told him you were starting full time?”

  “Of course he isn’t happy, but he never was. At least here, people care,” she answered. “He hasn't agreed, of course – but he won't have much of a choice, since I said I would give Siri a report of him abusing me.”