The Diamond Deep

by Brenda Cooper

  She didn’t think secret was the right word. More like hidden in plain sight, like a taunt. Satyana had showed her the outside of the bubble homes of the ultra-rich. Ix had shown them the whole outside of the station.

  His excitement was riding high, his eyes shiny, his breath already laced with a tinge of alcohol. Ruby didn’t like him in this mood, didn’t appreciate him being so sure of himself. It made her nervous. But for now, she needed him. She took his arm and smiled.

  They boarded a small train of cars that had clearly been designed to carry people and cargo along a single wide corridor that passed between bubbles. The seats felt soft and looked as if they had just been recovered. Silver handholds flashed as the car passed under bright lights.

  At the end of a fifteen minute ride, the train doors opened and a lighted floor led them into a thin corridor that forced them single file. KJ stayed right in front of her. He looked as calm as anyone approaching a new place for an exciting secret party might, but she smelled his anxiety. Naveen followed Ruby, with Dayn looming behind him. The entire time they walked the corridor, Ruby felt as if there were eyes on her, like when she was in a crowd and turned to find someone staring intently at her from close range.

  They rounded a bend and a door swung open, washing the corridor in laughter and music, transforming it into a party.

  Ruby put on her best meet-and-greet smile and stepped into the room. The scent of fresh-cut fruit and vegetables mixed with sweet desserts and the tang of alcohol. A band played stringed instruments and hand-drums on an ornate stage that jutted out from a wall so the musicians stood above the crowd, looking down.

  A tall and perfectly proportioned man stood in front of her. His skin was as black as Ani’s, accentuated by the white and gold clothes he wore. Sparkling golden eyes that were as odd as Koren’s eyes matched the gold piping on his sleeves and the gold chains spilling down his chest in a tangled river. “Hello, beautiful Ruby the Red, woman of fire. I am Gunnar Ellensson, and I am pleased to offer you the honor of joining me at a party thrown . . .” he let an exaggerated pause go by, “for you. Come in.” He bowed and held out his hand expectantly.

  Ruby managed not to react to the overly-effusive greeting, but to just hold her hand out and let him take it. “I don’t deserve such honor.”

  “Oh, yes, you do. You saved your people once in the past, and they love you. You are saving them again, and they still love you. It is rare for a leader to be so good and so bright.”

  She had to work to withhold her gag reflex. “Show me and my guard around?”

  “You have no need of a guard here.”

  She gestured toward KJ. “Think of him as my friend.”

  There was no obvious sense of resentment as Gunnar smiled and held a large hand out to KJ. “Pleased to meet you.”

  She wondered what KJ thought of the excesses surrounding them. He didn’t look happy.

  Gunnar said, “I cannot leave my post as greeter just yet. Perhaps you can enjoy the riches of the feast prepared for you, and sip from a refreshing, cold drink?”

  “I would like some fresh juice,” Ruby said, “And a piece of fruit.”

  Gunnar looked away and whispered something, as if into thin air, and then turned back to Ruby. “I will find you soon.”

  Ruby almost succeeded at getting her entourage to one of the tables that practically dripped food before a threesome of tattooed men hailed her and blocked her way, holding out hands, murmuring of her success. Others recognized her, and surrounded her quickly. The fashion here was the most exotic she had seen, as were the modifications to the human form. Size varied widely, as well as strength and color. A pink woman with pink hair and baby blue eyes half the size of her face pushed through the crowd to congratulate Ruby on her concert. She was followed by a near-albino woman with the wide shoulders of a man and large breasts that nearly spilled out of a tight-fitting black dress.

  Satyana slid through the crowd, dressed plainly compared to the exotics that surrounded her. Here, her simplicity stood out even more than it had on the Star Bear. She winked at Ruby. “Thank you for the workers. I have started training them.”

  “You’re welcome, and thank you. I’m sure they’ll do well. We’re used to hard work.”

  “Do you feel better?”

  “I must have been very tired. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.”

  “You need to protect your health. I want you to come to the Star Bear to sing again. Do you know when you’ll be back?”

  “I have five more concerts booked. I plan to go back home afterward. I’ll ask Naveen to book you.”

  Satyana managed to look both proud and irritated at once, which made Ruby think she’d gotten her answer right. The Diamond Deep was so full of undertones that she usually felt like she was tripping over them. Ruby planned to protect her demand to go home. She’d told Naveen how much it mattered to her, but he’d been drunk when she did that, so she had no idea if he remembered.

  A group of five identical women dressed in flesh-toned mesh with sequins sewn over their crotches and breasts pushed between Satyana and Ruby, and Ruby held her hand out to them. “Greetings.”

  They practically simpered.

  Excess surrounded her. Opulence.

  Many of the partygoers might as well have been screaming look at me, look at me, me, me, me.

  By the time a small serving bot was able to push through the crowd, Ruby was thirsty and her voice felt ragged.

  Gunnar Ellensson came up shortly after the serving bot and took her arm. “Allow me to tour you.”

  KJ took her other side. Dayn and Ani moved to join them, but Gunnar waved them away.

  Dayn looked angry, and Ruby gave him a small hug and whispered in his ear, “I’ll be all right.”

  He didn’t look happy, but he stepped back, taking Ani with him.

  “Let’s go.” Gunnar led them through an irising door and along a short tunnel into an entirely different bubble than the large one that held the party.

  Ruby gasped and slowly turned from side to side, taking in the view of cliff faces adorned with hanging vines in a flourish of flower so thick it appeared that rivers of purple and blue and yellow ran down the cliffs and disappeared into striking blue, green, and orange-red forest foliage. Paths wound through meadows. A stream ran in the center of the whole thing, burbling over rocks and through flowers.

  Gunnar gave her a few moments before he spoke. “This is as close to a planet as you can see anywhere on the Deep, or anywhere in-system except on Lym and Mammot. I designed it so that I had a place where I could feel at home.”

  “This is all for you?”

  “And for my family and closest friends. It is also a gymnasium—there are climbing paths and rope paths and other challenges that neither of us is correctly clothed for now.” He looked at her dress, a pale yellow that clung to her hips, lined with soft gray fringe that swung as she walked. Soft gray boots came up nearly to her knees, open at the top and loose so that she had to walk carefully to make them feel right. “I can point them out to you, and perhaps you will grace my home again in the future and try them out.”

  He took her hand in his. She allowed it for only a moment, and then took it back. His skin had felt dry and warm and he had squeezed her hand as if wanting to keep it. “You lead,” she said.

  He pointed out flowers and trees, naming them. The path was firm enough under her feet that she felt secure even in her heeled boots. “This is really all yours to decide what do with?”

  “Of course. I made it.”

  Back on the Fire, she had always loved parks. They were where she went to take refuge, to think. Where she ran. Where she met her friends. Where she held her parties. The idea of creating and owning a park of her own was one she understood even while it offended her.

  Gunnar pointed out a climbing route that KJ asked questions about, giving Ruby time to sit on a bench and rest her feet and her voice. The air smelled better than any air she had ever smelled anywhere, like pl
ants and water and flowers and with almost no hint of humanity. The faintest breeze blew stray hairs softly against her cheek.

  Every time she turned her head a new wonder appeared from amidst the profusion of life. A small green bird with a long beak sipping from a red flower. A tiny vine clinging to a tree trunk, covered with pink flowers that nearly obscured pale green leaves the shape of hearts.

  This was prettier than the graphics in the game Adiamo, fresher than the park at home on its best day, more astounding than her first sight of the aviary had been.

  The aviary was available to anyone who could spend the credit to visit.

  This . . . this was private. It belonged to one man. The sheer weight of expenditure astonished her. And yet Gunnar Ellensson had been described as a rich merchant. As one of many. Satyana had shown her a froth of private bubbles.

  Ruby wanted one of her own. She wanted to design this much secret beauty, to have it to retreat into with her family. She could imagine choosing trees and flowers, shaping waterfalls. Waterfalls! She had never imagined anything so rich, so beautiful. The fact that she wanted it made her tense and angry.

  What else did this excess, this beauty, imply existed on the Deep? The garden surrounding her defined power in a far more subtle way than the vast bubble-party and its glittery crowd.

  The contrast between this place and the Brawl mixed up inside her heart and her stomach, souring it. Or maybe it was already sour from whatever illness dogged her. Regardless, even in the bright, fresh air she felt like throwing up.

  Ruby still felt faint an hour later when she stood on the raised stage. Color swirled below her. Multicolored faces peered up at her. Bots and human servers danced through the crowded floor. Three drummers remained on the stage, standing in a loose semi-circle around her. They felt too close, as if herding her toward the edge, but she couldn’t exactly turn around and hiss at them to leave, nor could she explain that she felt dizzy still, and the edge seemed too near her feet.

  Gunnar Ellensson spoke from the far corner of the room, his voice loud and commanding. Even the robots stopped for him. “Allow me to present Ruby Martin. She is the queen of flame, a leader from The Creative Fire, and an ambassador for her people who come from our past.”

  He let a beat of silence fall.

  Ruby stood still.

  People watched her.

  Gunnar continued. “Ruby has agreed to grace us with three songs. Let’s welcome her.”

  Hands clapped and two people whistled.

  The drummers began a steady cadence.

  Ruby took a deep breath and forced out as genuine a smile as she could muster. “This is a song for one of us who is now dead. He was like a grandfather to me. He taught me to be brave and to be curious and to hope when there is no hope.” She started “The Owl’s Song.” Some of the audience knew it. They must have watched the video of the actual funeral, which now seemed so far away she no longer recognized the girl who had barely been brave enough to sing there.

  At the end, the applause was loud although she couldn’t tell how sincere it was coming from this strange crowd. She said, “Thank you. Thank you. I am so pleased to be with you, to be part of this great station.” She took a deep breath, watching the faces below her. She kept her voice even. “That was a song from our past, a song from before I knew I would be in the generation that came home. Before we knew anything except rumors that our long, long journey could come to an end.”

  Here and there a glass clinked or weight shifted.

  “Now I will sing you a song about coming home.” She sang “Song of the Seed,” drawing out the last chorus:

  Together we are a seed

  Preparing to open in the light

  Of Adiamo. To flower.

  Again the audience clapped, and a few called out for favorite songs.

  This was her moment of truth. A moment to decide.

  She had written a song about these people. Well, not really. A song for them. A song to show them what they needed to know, to remind them of what they refused to see. She wanted to sing the song for Gunnar Ellensson, whom she had decided was kind and confusing and cruel all at once. The room was full of people with the resources to transform life on the Deep. She hadn’t quite finished the song . . . but almost. She could do it. A little improv. Maybe sing with no accompaniment since she couldn’t give the drummers anything.

  She stared down at them. Were they ready? Was the song? Was this the place?

  Her stomach felt cold.

  She put her head down and her hands down, and then she lifted both again. She cued the drummers to go into a steady beat.

  Her throat tightened, and her stomach heaved. She realized this might not be recorded. These people might hurt her. They were in a small private place.

  She bowed her head again. “Sorry,” she mumbled, and then she began a lullaby from the Fire, a soft, sweet song that left the audience silent for a few breaths before they clapped harder than they had for the first two songs.

  She felt as if she had failed in spite of the roaring applause that rose up to engulf her. In another venue, if she felt stronger, she might have turned to give them one more song. Instead, she walked off the stage without looking back.

  Allen had finally found a decent live band to play the bar. The threesome played about ten instruments between them, and the girl who sang lead had a high sweet voice. Even though she had none of Ruby’s power, she was pleasant both to listen to and to watch, and Onor made sure he picked a table where he could see her.

  The bar was full and loud, and they’d squeezed in two more tables and hired a waitress. Allen noticed him and sent the new girl, Evie, over to take his order. Evie was a dark bit of a girl with a bright smile and an admirable figure, if slightly on the thin side. She recognized him immediately; a good sign. “Onor! What can I get for you?”

  “How about one of the Deep wines—a white, maybe? And some flatbread and fruit.”

  “Coming right up!”

  He watched her walk away, wondering if she was much older than Haric. She had the form of a woman, but he’d bet she was no more than sixteen. She was probably still in regular school. Well, at least she’d be too busy to get in trouble.

  His drink appeared before his food, and Evie was sharp enough to add water to her tray and then ask him if he wanted it. They’d had fifty applicants for the job based solely on word-of-mouth. Apparently they had chosen well.

  It took longer than he expected for Haric to join him. At least the wine was good. Great, in fact. On the Fire, everything alcohol had been called still, but here there were numerous words for alcohol and smoke and other drugs. It almost seemed that separating things with different names made them more unique, and better. By the time half of the wine was gone, he felt pretty good. The decent singing didn’t hurt either. Unwinding had some value to it; he actually couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to just sit still.

  After a while, it seemed he’d been sitting too long. Onor had started seriously fidgeting by the time Haric showed up and slid into the seat opposite him.

  “Did you get lost out there?” Onor asked.

  Haric shook his head. “Just tired. No work. I asked at four or five places, figuring that ship’s work would be good. I got as far as taking one test, but I botched it. I just can’t get the hang of the tech here—it’s so subtle.”

  “I’m not doing much better. Ix is teaching me some, though. I can set you up with a lesson tomorrow.”

  “I’ll take it. This place makes me feel like an idiot.”

  “Well, you’re not. Did you see any of our cargo?”

  “I walked the whole Exchange twice. Nothing. But I have a plan. I’ll put it off a day, for the class. But then I think I need to go.”

  Evie came up, bringing the container to pour Onor more wine and an extra glass for Haric. Haric gave her a broad smile. “Thanks, Evie.”

  She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, but her eyes held a deeper affection that her a
ctions gave away.

  Haric sipped from his wine, smiled softly. “That’s good.”

  “I’m glad I chose something you’d like.”

  Evie left, and Onor raised an eyebrow at Haric. “I’ve never seen you flirt before.”

  Haric actually blushed.

  “You do know her?”

  “Of course I do. I’ve known her since we were all on the Fire. We play games sometimes.”

  Onor refrained from asking what kind of games. He’d been dreaming of Ruby when he was Haric’s age, and near her all the time without being able to touch her. He did love Marcelle, but nothing had ever erased his adoration of Ruby. If Haric managed better than Onor at the same age, well, that was a good thing. “Tell me about your plan.”

  “There are other Exchanges. Surely Koren wouldn’t be reselling anything of ours in this one. I can get to Exchange Four with a one-day ride. I thought I’d ask if you’d sponsor me on such a trip.”

  “All by yourself? I’d go with you if I could, but both Joel and Marcelle need me.” He started at the table. “It’s too much risk for you to go alone.” Ruby would hate that.

  “It’s got to be done,” Haric protested. “Besides, you’re the one who suggested I be sent to look.”

  “To our Exchange.”

  “So? This one must be like that one. It will only be a two-day trip.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “That’s why I need a sponsor. I’m pretty sure SueAnne won’t let go of enough credit for me to buy a room anywhere.”

  Even though he’d championed this trip to Joel and SueAnne, Onor hated the idea now that it was happening. “I’ll send you credit. Take your slate. Message me when you get there.”

  A big hand clapped Onor on the shoulder, and he turned his head to spot The Jackman and Conroy. “Hey—I haven’t seen enough of you two. Buy you a drink?”

  They squeezed two chairs in from a nearby table, the bulk of the two bigger men making Onor feel cramped in spite of how happy he felt to see his old mentors. Haric flagged Evie back over and The Jackman said, “I heard you were part owner of this little venture.”