The Diamond Deep

by Brenda Cooper

  As the song poured out of her, the anger went into it, imbuing her voice, hollowing her out.

  She sang eight verses of the song. Four of them were verses no one had heard. The last one was a verse she hadn’t even thought of, a sound that flowed out of her and carried tears with it, so she stood and emptied herself and tears flew down her face and joined the drops of sweat that salted the stage under her feet.

  The singer grows ever

  Weaker

  Locks her loss and love

  Inside and sings

  Her death

  Sings the losses

  Of all her parents

  And theirs, locked

  In the memories

  Of families, Lost

  From the joy of life

  Time passes.

  She is going now, going

  Down into the dark

  Before her own people,

  Before her love

  Before the Fire

  The audience made no sound.

  She heard her steps, her breath, her words, her tears falling onto the stage. She let the right three beats fall and then held her arms up toward the sky as she started the chorus.

  Look inside

  See despair

  The audience joined her. A hundred voices, then a thousand, then more.

  Starve it out

  Embrace the hope

  Of helping

  The lovers of our hearts

  The sound of all of the joined voices filled the room full of a bittersweet hope.

  She took a bow and tipped forward, her hair spilling around her face as she fell onto the stage, every last bit of energy wrung out from her.

  The train stopped, the door opened, and Onor and Evie stepped out. Onor half-expected The Jackman to follow them, but he didn’t. “Stay safe, old friend,” Onor whispered.

  “Good luck.”

  Evie pulled Onor through the same dirty station Naveen had led him through the first time they came here. Instead of going right—the way Naveen had led him—Evie tugged him left, following signs down an elevator into a small vestibule. A human guard stood at the far side. He straightened up as Evie and Onor approached. “Can I help you?”

  They had worked out how to approach this on the train while they ate tomato and peppered protein paste sandwiches acquired in Exchange Four. Now, Onor’s mouth tasted like dry fear and he had to force out the words. “We’re here to see if this is a place where some of us can live. It’s been hard to get work.”

  The guard looked at them with narrowed eyes. “Hard everywhere. But there’s no work here.” He turned his gaze to Evie’s breasts. “People don’t come here on purpose much, not when they’re young and healthy.”

  “There’s a lot of us.”

  Suspicion drained from the guard’s features. “You came in from that ship. The Fiery Beast or something.”

  “The Creative Fire,” Evie corrected him. “We can’t use your technology. Mostly.”

  “And you can’t learn?”

  “It’s hard.”

  The guard’s face softened even more, and he grew a little tiny bit of a smile at the edge of his lips. It might have been touching if they didn’t need to just get in as fast as possible. “We’re allowed to check ourselves in, right?” Onor asked. “We checked.”

  “Yes. But it’s a mistake.”

  Onor decided at add to their story. “We’ll be bought out. We need to know what it’s like in here, kind of like an advance guard.”

  The guard looked puzzled. “You want a tour?”

  “Yes,” Evie said.

  “There’s observation bays up above.”

  “I’ve been there,” Onor said. “Will that really teach me what skills we need to live here?”

  A shake of the guard’s head. “Isn’t that singer buying you free? Ruby?”

  “If she can sing every day for the next year.”

  “Is this the only way to get in?” Evie asked.

  The guard stepped back. “Almost no one comes this way. The very old, sometimes. Enforcers can make sure they get food. Most people are sent here.”

  Evie said, “Please,” again, her voice small.

  “You don’t have anything valuable with you?” the guard asked.

  Evie shook her head. “Our slates.”

  “Keep them close. Be careful of your clothes if you take them off. You’re a little fine for this place. If you really do get out and then come back, bring trade goods.”

  “Trade goods?” Onor asked.

  “Things people want. Food. Drugs. Clothes.” He held out a slate to each of them, looking as if he were committing a crime by allowing them in. “Sign here to verify you are entering of your own free will and that you understand the cost of your stay.”

  Taking the pen felt far more final than he had expected it to. His signature came out scrawled and almost unreadable.

  The guard waved Onor and Evie through a doorway. “Your progress will be monitored. You will walk forward the whole way. If you turn around, credits will be added to the amount it takes to buy your freedom.”

  “I will guide you,” Aleesi said in their ears.

  “Last piece of advice,” the guard said. “It gets almost dark after dinner. You must be picked by then.”

  “Picked?”

  “By a gang. You’ll see.”

  At least they hadn’t lost the earbugs. Onor still had an extra in his pocket, which he planned to give to Haric. Their footsteps echoed in the long corridor. The walls were scratched and dark and bare, the only adornment a long metal handrail that went all the way though.

  At the end of the corridor, a metal door irised open into a small empty room.

  Onor and Evie stepped in.

  The door closed and the far one opened.

  From above, the Brawl had looked big and confused. From here, it looked far, far worse. He realized he had half-expected to find Haric just on the far side of the door, waiting for them. Instead, three enforcer robots stood at strategic points, and a press of people they had never seen watched them step into the room.

  Ruby sprawled bonelessly across the stage, breathing in great gasps of air, feeling the cool floor under her cheek and her right elbow and pressing against her calves. Her dress bunched tight across her chest, so it was hard to breathe.

  She tried to push up, to stand and take her bows. She felt and heard the audience willing her to stand up.

  Maybe if she could get a few breaths, a few moments.

  She managed to get up on one arm so that it was bent at the elbow. The fabulous fiery braids that Jali had spent so much time on hung over her face as if hiding her from the room.

  Applause mixed with the sounds of dismay and concern washed across her from near the front of the room, and calls for help for her. She heard Naveen’s voice as he hurried onto the stage. He spoke to the audience. “Thank you! Thank you.”

  Why didn’t Naveen help her?

  Arms folded around her while Naveen kept talking and the audience kept clapping. She felt herself lifted from the stage and managed to hold her head up and wrap her arms around her rescuer. The brush of lips against her forehead caused her to roll inward and let her cheek fall against Joel’s chest. It wasn’t possible that he was here, that he had picked her up. Not unless she was dying and he had come to lead her to the doorway all souls passed though.

  As he murmured her name, he sounded distressed and soft all at once, and entirely unlike someone who was taking her away from the world. “Cloth. Get me a damp cloth!” he called as they passed through the great curtains and cut her off from her audience.

  He clutched her tight to him and kissed her on the mouth, and only then did she believe he was real.

  Ruby opened her eyes to her own familiar ceiling. Crisp sheets bunched around her legs. She shifted, testing. Her legs responded to her commands.

  She shouldn’t be here.

  It took three breaths to remember her last moments on the stage, and being lifte
d up and carried behind the curtain. She closed her eyes and wished the memory away. But not her sweetheart. She could smell him and hear his breathing. She murmured his name. “Joel.”

  A hand touched her cheek. “I should have been with you.”

  “They needed you here.” She held out her hand, the movement slow and unsteady. “Help me stand.”

  His fingers brushed the hair from her face. “Give it a minute.”

  “Did I get . . . how did I get here?”

  “Satyana’s robot give you a painkiller. You slept the whole time I took you back.”

  “You let them put me to sleep?”

  “I wasn’t giving you a choice about coming home.”

  “I shouldn’t have. I should be out there, working.” Her protest was weakened by how good to felt to be here, how much she loved Joel’s fingertips on her lips and the sound of his voice. “What about Jali? KJ? Did they come home?”

  “No. Satyana flew us home in a ship that barely had room for both of us.”

  “Probably the Honey. Did she show you the private habs out there?”

  He looked both angry and lost. “She showed me enough to demonstrate how much power we don’t have.”

  “I know.”

  He stood, took her hand, and tugged her to a standing position. She swayed. Her stomach felt as if she’d been sick for days, but there were no knives of pain. She took a step toward the privy and almost lost her balance. Joel had to help her. She shook and her limbs only obeyed her under protest. She must look as weak as she felt. At least each step seemed a little more solid. By the time they’d crossed the room, she felt strong enough to shut the door with him outside. She stared into the mirror. Her face had thinned. She’d looked into mirrors before every concert, but she’d been looking at the clothes Jali draped over and around her and at the way her hair had been done. She’d been thinking about songs instead of sickness.

  Surely she had another concert soon.

  She had to look better by then. She couldn’t imagine eating, but took a cup and water from the sink. Then another. She filled herself on an amazing amount of water.

  A nightmare had fallen over her waking moments and it was all she could do not to fall to the floor under the weight of it.

  Dying wasn’t acceptable.

  She managed to find a brush and get it through her hair, leaving a few of the toughest tangles until she found help for them. She needed Ani. Ani always had a comb. And a laugh.

  A hot washcloth felt rough against her skin, but at least it reddened her cheeks.

  As soon as she opened the door, Joel took her into his arms, clutching her tightly. His shirt was rough against her cheek and he smelled clean and felt like safety. He picked her up over a weak protest, and carried her to the bed, setting her down very carefully in the middle and sitting at the edge with a warm hand on her forearm. His voice sounded thick and a little hurt. “I talked to you almost every day. You didn’t say anything.”

  “I didn’t know. I thought I was just tired. I am. Maybe. Just tired. If I rest I can go back.”

  His only response was a stricken and disbelieving look that suggested she would never leave his direct protection again.

  She could argue after she got strong again. “What did Satyana tell you?”

  “That you’re going to die.”

  “She said maybe not. She said I could beat it.”

  He smiled softly. “Of course you can.”

  “I can.”

  “I won’t be able to stand it if I lose you.”

  The tone in his voice devastated her, a softness colored by so much longing that she felt tight in her chest just looking at him. “Tell me about home. What’s happened here while I was gone?”

  “We talked every day.”

  “I’m sure you kept all the sweetest bits from me.”

  That made him smile. “The bar is doing well.”

  “You told me that.”

  “People from the rest of the Deep come a lot, now. Some of them say they want to help us make Koren pay for what she stole from us.” He looked serious, like he wanted to know what she thought.

  “There’s a bigger conspiracy. That’s in trade for us helping them.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Satyana?”

  “Yes.”

  “She asked me a lot of questions about you last night, and about us. I didn’t feel like I could answer them all.”

  “Ix. Is Ix helping you?”

  “Yes.” He hesitated. “You should rest a little. I’ll go get you some food.” He stood up and planted a thoroughly chaste kiss on her forehead.

  “You can do better than that.”

  He could, and he did. He tasted like stim.

  As he left, she felt sure there were things he hadn’t told her.

  Onor stayed close enough to Evie to protect her if she got into any trouble. Her shoulders slumped and her steps dragged. They hadn’t rested since they left Ash, and at some point soon they’d be so tired they’d make a serious mistake of some kind. He touched her shoulder. “Let’s sit and think about this. We need a plan.”

  “There’s no place to sit.”

  “I’ll find one.” His feet already hurt; hers must, too. The one time they’d tried to sit on an empty bench, a gang of men had surrounded them and demanded they move.

  “One more stop first,” Evie told him. As if to make sure he knew she meant it, she pulled out her slate and held it up toward a woman standing guard outside of a scrap of protected territory. “Have you seen this man?”

  The woman reached toward the slate, but after one close call Evie had learned to keep it tight in her two fists. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Tell me?”

  “If you trade me something.” The woman gestured toward the slate.

  “Not this.”

  “I need something.”

  “I don’t have anything left to spare.” She had traded away a comb and her necklace of colored beads in the first few hours, both times for bad information.

  An enforcer bot turned a corner near them, heading their way. They had been careful to avoid them.

  The woman laughed, as if she found both Evie and the silver bot absurd, or maybe the timing. “Go that way. I think I saw him yesterday.”

  Onor let Evie lead them in the direction of the woman’s pointed finger, which was also away from the bot. As soon as they walked out of the woman’s earshot, he whispered to Evie, “That’s the fourth set of conflicting directions you’ve gotten. Haric wasn’t even here yesterday.”

  “I know.” She turned to look at him. “We needed to go somewhere.”

  “The first man you asked sent us toward the observation wall.” Onor flicked his eyes up. He could see one of the observation windows far above. Maybe even the one Naveen had taken him to. It looked far out of reach. “The only other two people who answered you sent us in two other directions.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Aren’t I right?”

  Aleesi answered. “Yes.”

  “Can you just tell us where he is?” Onor asked. “Do you have a clue?”

  “I can’t see where you are. There are no public cameras in the Brawl.”

  All of the space in the Brawl seemed to be guarded by family groups or gangs of opportunity. Onor took Evie’s arm. “Let’s walk and talk. Quietly. Stop drawing attention. What would Haric do if he were standing here?”

  “I’ve been trying to decide that.”

  Piles of food and slates and blankets and clothes seemed to be the protected heart of most territories. From the observation window, he had seen that people grouped, but from down here, the lines were clear and guarded. It was what he would do if people from the Fire were here, keep them together and safe and not let strangers in.

  This must be what the guard had warned them about. A group of two made a small, vulnerable target, especially if one of them was a pretty girl.

  “I’m sure Haric’s trying to get away to get back to us. To yo
u.”

  Evie blushed. “What if we were trying to get home? What would we do?”

  “Walk around by the doors. I bet there’s one set in each wall. We came through one and didn’t see him. So that gives us three more to look at.”

  “Let’s look before I’m too tired to walk that far.”

  “So we start with the closest door.”

  “Okay.”

  Onor tried to size up the enclaves they passed. There was no unclaimed space; they had to “join” a group or talk one into temporary rent if they wanted a place to sleep, or even to sit. He should have bought trade goods instead of letting worry drive them down here so fast. “Look carefully into all the groups as we go. Haric has no idea we’re here. But he might be trying to hide until we can find him.”

  Even though he stayed close behind her, Onor missed a tall man on the right grabbing for Evie until she screamed. The man tugged her through three other men until a wall of muscle separated her from Onor. “Let her go,” he demanded.

  Two men stepped toward him.

  Evie screamed his name. “Onor!”

  Ruby woke when the door opened. Instead of Joel, Marcelle stood with a cup of tea, some warm brown bread, and a relived smile. “You need something to give you strength.”

  “Thank you.” Ruby took the cup from Marcelle’s hand. She had pushed pillows together to create a nest that let her sit at the head of the bed and read news on her slate. Marcelle glowed so bright with impending motherhood that Ruby put a hand on her protruding stomach. “You look ready.”

  Marcelle sat on the edge of the bed and sipped at her own tea. “I have to wait for Onor to get home.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Haric went to save the world and now Onor and Haric’s girlfriend Evie and The Jackman have gone to save Haric.”

  Ruby stiffened. “Have you heard from them?”

  “I haven’t, but Joel is off talking to Aleesi.”

  That explained her conviction that Joel was hiding something from her. He should know better. “I need you to help me get dressed. I want out of this little room.”