Song of a Dead Star

by Zamil Akhtar

  What did I just do?

  It didn’t feel good anymore, standing in front of this deflated body.

  Earthquake. Like someone grabbed the ship, shook it up and down. Nothing to hold, Kav hit the ceiling. Gravity reversed, the world inverted. The sunsink was on the floor, the deflated Magus on the ceiling. It was just a body now, a frail sack of bones, jostled about by turbulence.

  Images played on Kav’s eyelids. One day the sky was red as he cried, a child lost on the streets of Kerb. His mother found him, dried his tears with her dress. He didn’t want to remember that.

  In midair, pressure crushed his ears. Metal flew around the room, bouncing across the walls. As the ship crashed, he thought of Layla. But he couldn’t remember her. Her face, he had forgotten. In his memory, she was a trace outline. Blue hair was all he could recall. Only a shade of what she was.

  Before it went dark, a message emerged in Kav’s mind.

  Well done. The Key to the Garden is inside you, but I can’t show you the way just yet. The final Magus waits at the South Almaria Deployment Base. Find him, and I’ll be in touch.

  CHAPTER 3

  THE GRAVE

  TRANSCRIPT 0089 BETWEEN MESSENGER 01 and PILOT 01

  Merv: Zauri, what’re you thinking?

  Zauri: I’m thinking how this place is so beautiful.

  Merv: I wish I could see it with your eyes. I’ve barely had a look out the window.

  Zauri: It’s like you said. It feels like I’m returning home, to where I belong, to a place where I feel free.

  Merv: That’s because Eden is your home. Your soul was made for this place, that’s why it feels so right. That’s why we find it so beautiful, even though our eyes had never seen it ‘till now.

  Zauri: I want to smell the grass and swim in the rivers.

  Merv: You will. Once we complete our objectives, we can do anything we want.

  With a shovel in hand, the boy pounded the earth. The mud was soft and gave way, like chocolate cake. He would fill the shovel with dirt and toss it where crystal flowers lay torn and dead.

  Heave, pick up, ho, throw out. Each time he shoveled dirt, he felt tension release. And each time he threw it out, he felt peace fill the hole.

  In, release, out, peace. As the hole got deeper, tension left his arms and peace flowed in its stead. And through his neck, and chest, and abdomen. Heave, pick up peace, ho, throw out tension.

  The hole was deep now. So deep, his head was below ground. There was just a little bit of tension left: a knot that had gotten big and tangled with his organs. He shoveled the dirt, tossed it, and stared at the empty hole. Though a void, there was light inside. That light was serenity, and it enveloped him and undid that big knot.

  Fresh and new, he was reborn. The boy looked at the sky from his place in the hole. He smiled at the sun, and the sun smiled at him.

  Where could she find today’s paper? In this town, anything not weeks old was hard to come by — except for crops. But she had an inkling: the jeweler, because Uncle told her he just arrived by train from Qindsmar and probably read the paper on the way. The old guy had his shop in one of the eastern houses, ten minutes walk from the clinic.

  It was kind of hot today so she was relieved to get out of the sun. A little bell rang as she opened the door to the jewel shop. Inside, crystals and shards dripped with sunshine along the walls. A whole section of the left wall was devoted to twicrys beads, and another part of the back wall for gain-medium crystals. The shopkeeper wasn’t at his desk so she browsed.

  I do need a new gain-medium for the stove...

  TEX brand, HEX brand, and various Almarian brands. Which to pick? The current one might’ve been a HEX, but she’d feel more patriotic with an Almarian. She picked one and rolled it on her hand: a crystal the color of deep-carrot orange.

  “Saina! What you got there?”

  The old guy was back. Such a cliché jeweler — little optical on his nose, hair balding and greying. A cheerful guy, nonetheless.

  “Uncle, umm, stove’s not heating up like it should. Been a while since we replaced its crystal, so I’m in the market!”

  “Ah-hah!” He scrutinized the one she’d chosen. “You know, that one’s — ehhh — I wouldn’t recommend. Almarian one is cheaper, but you should go with more quality. TEX, these days, make the very best. But let’s make sure we select one compatible with the model of your stove.”

  “It’s a...well...it says ‘T three-ninety plus’ on the right side.”

  “Ahh, of course! A classic — that’s a TEX machine. Won’t take some of the newest model gain-medium crystals, but, we have several that will work. You want long lasting or long lasting plus?”

  The crystal he held looked like the other one, but the lines were finer and it was lemon yellow.

  “The plus does sound good, how long will that last?”

  “For you, my lady, I guarantee fifteen months. I’ll give you a ten percent discount also.”

  Saina reached into her pocket for her shard pouch. “So that’s...how much total?”

  “Just 105 rubiyya.”

  “Ohh...uhh...can I come back later with that, uncle?”

  “Listen, you just take it, okay? You tell your uncle, he will pay me later.”

  The old guy put the crystal in a case, then gave it to her in a little pouch.

  “One more thing, uncle, you happen to have today’s newspaper?”

  “Yah, yah, why do you want that?”

  “Someone at the clinic asked for it. I don’t know where to find one, we get newspaper delivery once a week at the grocer.”

  “Okay...just a minute.”

  While he was in the back, Saina continued to browse the gain-mediums.

  Forget the stove, maybe Zulfiqar needs a new one? It’s been years since...okay stop, I don’t have the money — just stop!

  The old guy returned with the paper. Saina happily took it and left.

  Outside, some of the east town kids kicked around a ball. All they could do was pass back and forth along the narrow street. A small boy with round cheeks looked at Saina coming out the shop. The son of her Kalamic grammar teacher, he’d gotten big. She smiled at him as sweetly as she could.

  Hmm, I wonder what’s going on in the world?

  She put the paper up to her face. Oh wait, it was backwards. She turned it around and didn’t know where it started or ended. She flipped it inside out, but there was another random page and story. So she took that page out, put it behind, tried to fold it on the crease...but it wouldn’t fold right.

  Finally, she came across block letters underneath the “Qindsmar Sun” emblem.

  Up to 7000 Feared Dead from HEX Tower Attack.

  Whoah.

  Who attacked? What? Where? Was this yesterday?

  No. Three days ago. It was the Haemians, at the city of Ekrah. 20,000 possibly injured, several surrounding buildings went down too. The report also said the Continental Army was fully mobilized and planning a response.

  Three brigades sent to South Almaria Deployment Base. Why Almaria? And how big is a brigade?

  The beam that took down the tower came from the south, calculated to have been the sky over southern Almaria. Oh Nur...really?

  Too much had happened, it seemed. Too far away...or maybe not. Saina was about to put the paper down, when the words “Almaria” in block letters caught her eye.

  CA Cadet Flagship Crashes in Southern Almaria. Sabotage Feared.

  Apparently, this levship was carrying 300 cadets from the Ekrah Military Academy when it went down 100 miles north of Qindsmar. The ship jetted off the levtrack and crashed somewhere in the forests. A Haemian connection is feared, but not yet established. No survivors.

  That’s enough depressing stuff for today.

  Saina tried folding the paper on its crease, but it refused to align. So she improvised and forced her own fold down the middle.

  When she got back to the clinic, she put the gain-medium pouch on her uncle’s desk, then went
to give the newspaper to the islander boy.

  He was in bed, staring at the ceiling, when she came through the curtain.

  “I have it,” Saina said, “wasn’t easy to get.”

  The boy eyed her without moving. He’d look handsome if he wasn’t so forlorn.

  “Here.” Saina handed it to him.

  He undid her manufactured fold, flipped through the pages, scanned them up and down.

  “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, call for me.” She was about to leave when the rustle of pages being handled ended. As if he’d stopped reading. She turned to look.

  The newspaper lay scattered on the floor. The boy’s hands covered his face, moving with his slow breathing.

  “You okay?”

  Saina wondered whether to leave him like that. Probably best to. She didn’t know what disturbed him. Maybe one of those depressing stories about wars hundreds of miles away.

  “Saina!” It was Uncle. He probably wanted some work done.

  Nizan Uncle had just come from a surgery. His white coat was bloodied at the cuffs and his beard sweaty.

  “Saina, go see your uncle,” Nizan Uncle said. “He wants to tell you something.”

  “Something? What is it?”

  “Just go see him.”

  Uncle was always short after performing surgery. High stress procedures do that.

  Behind the curtain to his room, Fahmi Uncle sat in bed. When Saina came in, his cheeks reddened and a loving smile stretched across his face.

  “Sweet one,” he said, “I hear you assisted with your first surgery today. Congratulations!”

  “Ahh yeah. It was, umm, kind of cool. We removed something from that islander boy’s chest. More importantly, you look better!”

  “Just seeing you makes me all better! Plus, this cinnamon tea the grocer brought in has really cleared my sinuses. And I can do the stretching once again.” He reached for the ceiling and moved side to side. The sun hitting through the window made his shadow on the curtain. “I’m feeling like those bad days are done!”

  “After hardship, comes ease. After hardship, comes ease.”

  Uncle beamed upon hearing his favorite recital. “Tomorrow at Aliya’s wedding, you have double fun for me too, okay? And wear the best thing you have, you may just catch someone’s attention. Now that would make me all better, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, haha, we’ll see.” Was she blushing?

  Someone was mumbling from behind another curtain. Saina and Fahmi Uncle silenced to listen.

  “Am I dreaming?” It was the islander boy. “What time is it?”

  Fahmi Uncle raised his eyebrow. “What’s with him?”

  “He...I dunno.”

  “The time is 14:41,” the boy said. “Am I dreaming? What time is it? The time is 14:41.”

  “What’s an islander doing here?” Fahmi Uncle said. “Haven’t seen an islander in this town since...oh I don’t even know if I’ve ever seen an islander here.”

  “Uncle, I’d better go check on him. I’ll be back though, okay? Love you.” She hugged him. He could barely hug her back.

  The islander boy’s eyes were bloodshot. He sat on the edge of the bed, his blanket on the floor. A little edge of newspaper stuck out from under.

  “Something the matter?” Saina gathered the blanket.

  “Feeling better, so I’m gonna go. The doctor has my things.”

  His hand in his shirt, he seemed to be playing with the surgical bandage.

  “You shouldn’t pick at that. It might sting, but you ought to leave it alone and the stinging will go away.”

  Nizan Uncle pushed through the curtain. “Here’s your stuff, you’re discharged. Saina, as soon as he leaves, prep the room.”

  Uncle gave him two leather bags — one big, probably for his clothes, the other small, about the size of the gain-medium pouch the jeweler had given her.

  He took the small pouch, opened it, and peered inside. Then he closed it and put it in his pocket.

  “You people really shouldn’t have.” The boy tugged at his raven hair. “That was where it was supposed to be. You had no right to take it out.”

  Nizan Uncle shook his head, hands on hips. “I had no right to save your life? That thing kept you from waking up, put so much sunlight in you that your nervous system wouldn’t respond. That’s what happens when you put a twicrys somewhere it doesn’t belong.”

  “That’s where it belonged. That’s where it should’ve stayed.”

  “I spent two hours removing it and carefully stitching you up. You know what? Get out of here. This town isn’t for fish. Your rudeness as a people precedes you.”

  “Uncle...” Saina tugged his coat.

  He refused to acknowledge her. “Get out of here, and find your way out of this town. Saina, clean this place up.” At that, Uncle left.

  The boy gazed at Saina. “That your real eye color?”

  “Huh? Uh...obviously.”

  He got up, strung the big pouch over his back. “I guess we are a rude people. Sorry.” And walked out.

  Saina spent the next hour changing his sheets and wiping the floor, the bed frame, the windows, and the bedside table. She put fresh towels in the drawers. Then she went outside, tossed the dirty towels and sheets into the basin, rinsed with soap and water, and after letting them sit, strung them up to dry.

  Taking a break, she sat on a half-broken stool under the sun and thought about the boy. Uncle shouldn’t have said that...we’re supposed to be hospitable...is he really that high strung these days? Is it because of Fahmi Uncle’s sickness?

  An hour later, Nizan Uncle summoned her for an errand. Apparently they were out of milk at home. So yeah, she had to go get some from the grocer.

  She took the scenic route back from the grocer. That’s when she saw the islander again, in the cemetery, being pounded on by some of the local boys.

  Two boys had him in a hold. He was bigger than all of them, but outnumbered. One versus six. He got punched in the chest, then in the forehead.

  Saina ran over. “Stop! Get off him!”

  The boy doing the punching turned to her. He smelt like fertilizer. “Shut your face and get lost!”

  “Look — he just got released from our clinic — he’s in bad shape as it is — you can’t do this to him!”

  The boy knuckled the islander in the ribs.

  “Don’t! He just had surgery today, he could die, for Nur’s sake!” Saina tugged at the arms of one of the two that held him.

  The boy doing the punching grabbed her.

  “I don’t give a damn. Do you know what this fucking fish was doing?” The boy shook her, spitting in her face while he talked. “He was digging up the graves! You gonna protect him, little girl? You gonna stand by him while he dishonors our dead?”

  He flung Saina onto the mud. Then he got punched in the chin and launched onto his back. The islander boy was up, and he kicked another one of the boys in the stomach, jetting him into a fence. Then he charged another one and tackled him down. The last of the mob lunged at him. He smacked that boy in the neck and sent him whirling into a bush.

  The mob of troublemakers scampered in different directions.

  Saina was muddied and wet. Her clothes were tainted; she had sand in her hair and that aggressive boy’s spit around her eyes. None of that mattered though, the islander boy had a swollen forehead.

  “Does it hurt?” Saina touched the redness around his eyes. “You should come back to the clinic.”

  “Your uncle would love that.”

  She lifted his shirt. The blood circle on his bandage widened.

  “The stiches snapped. You need to get it redone.”

  He pressed on his bandage, as if he could force it to stop.

  “I’m sorry,” Saina said, “about how everyone’s been acting toward you. That’s not how we usually are. It’s just, things are bad these days. Everyone in town is suffering ‘cause no one’s buying our swords anymore, with TEX and HEX eating up our
business.

  “And my uncle, he’s just upset because his younger brother is sick. Now he’s always stressed and unpleasant, even to me.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t need to explain yourselves. I’m used to it. Just...leave me be.”

  “I’m not gonna let you bleed. I’m not gonna let you trail blood all over our town until you collapse and die, so come back to the clinic! Now!”

  He couldn’t say no to that, and so she dragged him back to the clinic. Uncle was not irritated; he simply stitched him up again, then let him loose.

  Now, it was almost UHR. Saina was busy with closing duties. She locked all the medicine cabinets and washed the used surgical instruments. It was time to go home, so she looked for Nizan Uncle.

  He was with Fahmi Uncle; the two conversed as she listened from behind the curtain.

  “We are three brothers,” Fahmi Uncle said, “why can’t he be here?”

  “I know Fahmi, I still believe Nur will bring him back to us.”

  “It’s not even for me. It’s his daughter. The girl is so smart, so cheerful, so beautiful. But he can’t even appreciate that. You know, if only I had more time with my daughters, I would give the world for that. Zayd should know that family matters more than whatever purpose he’s gone off to serve.”

  “You’re right, you were always right. We ought to be together again.”

  “This is how it goes. Death will cut all bonds. But before that happens, we should be as one. Like we are supposed to. So that when we stand before Nur on the Last Day, we will stand as one. A family.”

  “I know, I know.”

  Why was Uncle so sad? Saina didn’t want to interrupt, so she grabbed the pouch with the gain-medium, and the milk, and went home ahead of him.

  When Nizan Uncle got home, Saina was installing the new gain-medium in the stove. There was a hatch on the back that had to be removed via two screws. Then the clamp had to be disconnected, leading to some devious contraption that held the crystal. Like a twicrys but for a machine, the gain-medium would allow Saina to channel sunshine she absorbed with her twicrys to the stove, where it would be converted into heat. To make the energy transfer, all she had to do was touch the stove’s metal handle. Already, the fresh clothes she changed into had become greasy with soot.