The Memory of Sky

by Robert Reed

  Rima started to speak but thought better of it.

  Taff slowly stood. “I don’t know your parents. That’s certainly true. Maybe they have spectacular reasons for what they do and don’t do. But I can’t just stand by and not complain. That’s not my way.”

  There was a long, painful silence.

  Then Rima rose from her chair, lightly touching the boy’s warm forehead before putting two fingers under his chin and lifting his eyes. “What do you know about the world, Diamond?”

  “My parents love me.”

  She let go. To the children, she said, “Stay here. Wait here.” Then to Taff, she said, “We need to talk to people, see what we can learn.”

  The women left. Diamond watched the smooth golden-brown floor in the hallway, holding his breath while listening. Rima and Taff were inside another room. He heard them whispering, and an odd hum came and went and returned again. Then Elata turned to Seldom, saying, “You have a line?”

  “Yes.”

  “Our house has a line,” she reported. “But we can’t afford to connect it.”

  With a loud voice, Rima said, “Ivory Station, please.”

  There was a long pause, and then another voice answered. Diamond didn’t recognize the man’s crackling voice.

  Elata was watching Diamond, not quite smiling. Then he looked at her, and she grabbed both of his hands, trying to turn them and open them up. He didn’t let her. He held his fists closed, and she laughed, saying, “You’re strong.”

  Feeling self-conscious, he relaxed his hands, letting her peel back every finger.

  “We’re looking for a slayer,” Rima was saying. “Named Merit.”

  Merit was Father’s name.

  There was a quick pause before another new voice spoke, the words slurred and too soft to be understood.

  “I don’t see it,” said Elata.

  Diamond didn’t react.

  “What are you looking for?” Seldom asked.

  “He cut himself,” she said. “I saw a hole in his thumb, and blood.”

  “You made a mistake,” Seldom said.

  “Maybe,” she said. Then with a defiant tone, she said, “No.”

  Somewhere down the hall, a door was closed and latched. Now even Rima’s voice was muffled, unintelligible.

  “Who are they talking to?” Elata asked.

  Seldom shrugged.

  “Go listen,” she suggested.

  “We’re supposed to stay here,” Seldom said.

  Elata stood anyway. She stared at Diamond, as if committing him to memory. Then she walked into the hallway and vanished.

  Diamond watched the floor again.

  With a quiet, impressed voice, Seldom said, “You’ve never gone to school.”

  He shook his head.

  “I go to school. I started when I was eight hundred, which is very early.”

  “Oh.”

  “I can read anything,” Seldom boasted. “I learned how before I was nine hundred, in fact.”

  Diamond looked at the boy.

  “I’m different,” Seldom said, flashing a confident smile.

  Diamond kept seeing Rima in that face. His color was darker than his mother’s. He had smooth hair and wide ears that poked out of the hair, and his mouth was narrow and his golden teeth were crooked. But the eyes dominated his face. There was a gleam to them, to their blackness, that made them seem like the brightest objects in the room.

  The boy took a breath and let it out slowly. “You know, Karlan told me what he did to you.”

  Diamond said nothing.

  “He told me after he came home, after Mom was finished screaming.” Seldom’s voice fell away, and his eyes narrowed. “He said that he’d met you. Karlan said you were tiny and odd looking and you didn’t talk much. He said the knife was an accident. He was just trying to have some fun.”

  Diamond looked at the smooth, uncut thumb.

  “My brother’s different too. But not like me.” The boy straightened and smiled again, sadness in his face. “Something’s broken inside his head, his brain. That’s what I think.”

  “What’s broken?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.” The boy didn’t want to look at Diamond anymore. Staring at an overhead light was better. “Karlan told me that he wanted to make you scream. Just to scare everybody. He loves scaring people, kids and adults. Mom says that in that one little area, he’s a genius.”

  “What’s a genius?”

  “Smart.”

  Diamond closed both of his hands.

  “He stuck you. He told me about it. He expected you to shout out. But you didn’t. The rest was an accident, pushing the knife that deep inside you. ‘If that kid was a monkey, he’d be a dead monkey now,’ he told me.”

  Someone was walking in the hallway, approaching slowly.

  “My brother knows about killing monkeys,” Seldom warned. “But Mom says that’s better than the other choices.”

  Diamond wrapped his arms around his waist.

  “Is the scar ugly?”

  “What?”

  Seldom was horrified but fascinated too. He couldn’t stop himself. “Can I see the scar?”

  Diamond said, “No.”

  The boy shrank back, embarrassed by what he had requested.

  Then Elata returned, and looking at Seldom, she asked, “What’s going on in here?”

  “Nothing,” Seldom said, sitting farther away. “We were just talking.”

  Elata entered the room and spoke to Diamond. “Seldom’s mom is talking to your father’s bosses. I heard pieces of that. Merit is still out on his hunt, they say. He hasn’t passed through on his way home, which he always does. Then the boss said something about the big rain and maybe that’s why he’s been delayed.”

  Diamond concentrated, trying to make sense of the words.

  The girl grew quieter, more serious. “And now my mother’s talking to a police officer.”

  Seldom sat up. “Really? How come?”

  Elata was quiet, her face tight and simple.

  Nobody spoke.

  Dropping beside Diamond, she stared at him until he returned her gaze. “Be honest. Until today, have you ever gone outside?”

  “No.”

  “And you’ve always lived inside the same room?”

  He nodded.

  Elata looked at his hands again. Her mouth closed tight, teeth grinding. Then talking to the hands, she explained, “Sometimes parents have trouble with kids. My mom knows somebody, never mind who. But her parents tied her up when she was little, trying to keep her under control. Which is wrong and illegal, and if anybody had found out, her parents would have been huge trouble. And the girl would have been taken away from them.”

  “Who got tied up?” Seldom asked.

  “Nobody.”

  “Somebody was,” he said.

  “Nobody you know.”

  Seldom put his hands under his legs, frowning.

  “Anyway.” She looked at Diamond again. “My mother is talking to the police, explaining what she found inside your house, about the mess in the kitchen and that dark little room of yours.”

  “The monkey made the mess,” he said.

  “I can believe that.”

  He had been scared for a good portion of this day, but this was worse. Diamond breathed in long sore gulps, and he wished that he could fly home to yesterday, starting everything over again.

  Elata looked at Seldom. “My mom was talking, but then your mom took the receiver from her.”

  “Did she?” Something about that was worth a laugh.

  She looked at Diamond again. “Rima’s talking to the officer now. You’re a sick kid, she says. You’ve got a fever.”

  “I don’t.”

  “She says you need is a doctor, not the police. Otherwise you’re going to get even sicker and die.”

  “I’m not sick,” said Diamond.

  Seldom jumped up. “Let me touch your head.”

  “No,” Diamo
nd said. “Don’t.”

  Both studied him. Then with a grim voice, Elata said, “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  “Somebody’s going to get in trouble,” Seldom said with an expert tone. “That’s what’s going to happen.”

  Diamond stood.

  “What are you doing?” Seldom asked.

  Elata jumped up. “I think he wants to go home.”

  That was Diamond’s intention, yes. Nothing was more important than returning to his own room, to loyal and silent Mister Mister. He would wait there for his parents. This long awful morning had brought so many new faces and troubles, and he craved what he knew best. Police officers and new doctors should be met inside his walls. That’s what he was thinking as he left the greeting room, making for the main door.

  Elata walked beside him.

  From another room, Rima told someone, “Hurry, please.”

  “I’ll help you,” Elata promised.

  “We don’t want to be late for school,” Seldom said.

  Elata didn’t react.

  They passed through the iron-braced door. Slits of daylight sliced through gaps in the heavy purple curtain. Seldom was trailing, saying, “I want to go too.”

  “You’ll be late for school,” Elata said.

  With a big voice, he said, “Oh, I don’t care.”

  Elata went through the curtain first, and once more she used that hard little word that Diamond didn’t know. Quietly and fiercely, she said, “Shit.”

  Karlan was standing at the landing’s far end, his back to the curtain and feet apart, arms dangling at his sides. He was dressed in a brown school uniform like the one his brother wore, but the shirt was too small for his growing body, fabric straining across his broad back, sleeves squeezing his thick wrists. The air was filled with a new rumbling, harsher and closer than the falling water. A vast silvery ball was pushing past Marduk, fins and whirling blades stuck to its skin. Karlan might have been watching that ball, but he just as well could have been observing things nobody else could see. Either way, as Diamond stepped outside, the older boy turned, showing everyone his big odd smile.

  The world didn’t seem as bright as before. Diamond had come through the curtain with eyes narrowed, but this time he barely blinked with the glare. Karlan looked at the two of them, eyes jumping back and forth. Then Seldom appeared, reading the situation in an instant.

  “Let’s go,” he suggested. “Right now.”

  They hurried for the ladder, Elata leading.

  Karlan laughed hard and then quit laughing. “Where are you going?” he shouted.

  Elata broke into a shuffling trot.

  Karlan laughed again, except nothing was funny. And when he shouted again, he sounded furious. “Hey, monster! Come here, I want to show you something.”

  The rope ladder reached almost to the landing. Elata made a little jump and grabbed the bottom rung, pulling herself up with quick arms. Diamond looked up, and Seldom touched him on the back. “Go on,” he said.

  Karlan was walking, not running. Diamond looked at him and then up at the ladder, and he jumped. He had never jumped this hard. Feeling clumsy and wrong, his hands shot past the first rung, and he fumbled with the second rung and one hand let go, and then he gripped tight with his left hand as his body began to drop. The hand clung to the stiff rope and he spun around as Karlan jogged up.

  Karlan was furious, or he was pretending to be. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “We’re taking him home,” Seldom began.

  “Yeah, but I’ve got something to show him.”

  Diamond grabbed the ladder with his other hand and started to climb. But somebody grunted and a big hand snagged his trailing ankle, jerking hard enough to bring him down.

  He expected to hit the landing. But Karlan caught him and held him in both arms, and the expression that wasn’t any smile grew worse. “You’ve never seen the world, have you?” He walked, cradling his catch. “I heard you and the mommies talking. Never left your prison until today. Well, it’s a good morning and there’s a million things to see, and I want to be the first to show you.”

  Diamond squirmed.

  “Quit,” Karlan told him.

  He fought harder.

  Then with both big arms, the boy tried to crush the fight in him.

  Seldom was beside them. “What are you doing?” he asked his brother. Then with panic in the voice, he said, “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” Karlan asked.

  Naming his fears seemed reckless; Seldom quit talking.

  They reached the landing’s end. “You should have seen that ship up close,” said Karlan. “We don’t get traffic like that here. Not usually. But the fancy people onboard can still see us. Go on now. Give them a friendly wave.”

  The machine was huge, dwarfing even the giant leatherwings. Whirling blades reminded Diamond of the pinwheel that he had until it broke. Six pinwheels were working hard, and the engines that powered them made steady warm noises, and there were rooms underneath and what might be people moving behind the rooms’ windows.

  Diamond forgot everything else.

  “Put him down,” said Elata. Standing back from the railing and Karlan, she was still panting from a long jump and quick run. But she was angry and brave because of it. Diamond looked helpless, and the girl despised anyone being helpless. It was important to shout her first words, and when that didn’t do any good, she said, “Don’t you dare, I mean it, I mean it.”

  Karlan laughed. “Dare what?”

  “Throw him over. You can’t.”

  The laughter stopped. The fake smile turned into a fake serious expression, and Karlan did nothing. Maybe he was thinking, or maybe this was for show. Either way, he finally said, “Throw him? I never thought of that.”

  Seldom muttered a few words.

  “What’s that, brother?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then be quiet.” Karlan reached up with one hand, yanking Diamond’s head to where it was staring straight at him. “Suppose I drop you. No, imagine I throw you. As far as I can, and then you fall. Do you know how to fall, little boy? Do you know how to save yourself and not get too beaten up when you crash?”

  Elata cried out. There were no words in what she was saying, just raw furious noise that helped to push her past fear. She used fists on Karlan’s back and kicked him twice in the back of his leg, and when that accomplished nothing, she jumped and punched him hard in the ear.

  Diamond was dropped.

  He was on the landing-side of the railing, if only barely. He hit the hard slats and felt nothing but the jarring, and he put his left hand on a railing post and turned in time to see his friend throw her fist at Karlan’s stomach.

  The boy deflected the blow with an arm. “Shit,” he said as he used his other arm, an open hand slapping Elata in the face, just beside her chin.

  She didn’t simply fall. The impact lifted her off her feet, and her head snapped back, and the neck was twisted sideways, fighting to hold onto the dazed head. Elata landed and skidded and ended up limp. Too stunned to cry out, she slowly realized what had happened, and then she was too stubborn to make any noise. But when Karlan took one stepped toward her, Elata shrank down, instinctively protecting her face.

  Seldom stared at his brother, wishing for some perfect, awful words to say. But all that came to mind was, “You’re in trouble.”

  Diamond was standing. He didn’t remember getting to his feet, and he wasn’t certain when his fear and passivity evaporated. Something awful had been done, and he was caught up in anger. Somebody had to put an end to this trouble. His little hands closed, and then Karlan turned and read his face. Seeing everything clearly, the giant laughed. It was the largest, most terrible laugh of the day, and to make it worse, he said, “I showed you something. Show me your scar. I want to see how you healed up, little monster boy.”

  He reached for Diamond’s shirt.

  Diamond hit him in the face, in the long fleshy nose.


  The impact startled. Just like with Elata, the head popped back and the neck absorbed the energy. Karlan wasn’t knocked off his feet, but he hadn’t expected that impact and needed a few moments to shake off the pain, dealing with embarrassment and the wet feel as blood flooded out of his aching nose.

  With the back of a hand, he touched his blood.

  “Damn you,” he whispered.

  Diamond straightened his back.

  Again, Karlan touched the blood above his mouth, licking his mouth clean, and after a moment of deep reflection he reached with both hands, grabbing Diamond by the long shirt and yanking it high. Then he kicked the legs out from under the little boy and put him on his back, exposing that perfect pale and unscarred belly to the world.

  “What is this?” Karlan asked.

  Diamond slapped the hands away and pulled the shirt down.

  “I gutted you.” Karlan looked at the other two, wanting witnesses. “Where’s the scar? Do you see a scar?”

  The children stared at Diamond.

  “Well, damn,” Karlan said at last. “I’ve heard a lot of monster stories, but nothing like this. Nothing like you.”

  Then he grabbed hold of Diamond, and before the boy could manage any fight, he threw him as far into the air as possible.

  FIVE

  Alone in his room, Diamond would stand on the stool, dropping soldiers to watch them hurry to the floor while guessing how falling would feel. And what imagination told him wasn’t very different from what he experienced now. Nothing was beneath his feet and hands, and the air was rushing past, and his body had no sense of control as he rolled those first few times. Yet this wasn’t what he expected either. He knew that his body would speed up, but the acceleration was slower than he assumed. He was ready to feel terror, but the tension and surprise were washed away by giddy fascination. Moments ago, Diamond was part of the world, and now the world was something apart from him. The air was moving and Marduk was moving. The forest was streaming past his little body, as if a vast force were lifting the Creation higher, its ascent yanking up the air and the trees—everything but one boy desperate to go somewhere else.

  Diamond didn’t scream, but others did.

  A voice followed him, and then another voice, and someone was laughing. Fighting to control his body, he managed to roll on his back and look up. One landing jutted farther into the air than any other. Three people peered over the railing. The faces were already too distant to wear names. More words were shouted, none making sense, and then one of the faces vanished and someone leaped into the air, arms flattened against the long body and the head down, leading the way.