Star-Crossed

by Pintip Dunn

  “I’ll come back tomorrow. Maybe you’ll feel like talking then.”

  I trudge away. My bot leaves its spot by Astana’s bed and scurries after me. My best friend remains at the window, the ever-present feeding tube running from her stomach to the stand. She’s got over a week left on her regimen of expander pills. Which means, if the transplant goes as planned, Carr won’t see his sister become an Aegis before he dies.

  Yet one more thing to mourn.

  All the reasons to grieve block my throat. I might choke—but then a thought occurs to me. Something that might pique Astana’s interest.

  “The Fittest gets one last request. Anything he wants, within reason, will be granted a few hours before he dies.”

  Carr’s request was odd. I expected him to ask for something for his sister. Or maybe a concession for future Fittest candidates. Not a food item. And certainly not for himself.

  “He asked for a pie,” I say. “An entire strawberry pie he wouldn’t have to share with anyone, not even you. Do you know what that means?”

  Her head jerks up. “He wanted a pie?” Something I can’t read crosses her face. And then, tears are falling onto her lap.

  I rush to her side and kneel by the wheelchair. “What? What is it?”

  She presses the heels of both hands against her eyes. “I can’t believe he remembers. When we were kids, Carr and I would fantasize about eating. We would see these great big pies leaving the royal kitchen, and we’d dream about what we would do if we had an entire pie to ourselves. Carr, being Carr, said he would split it with me and Mama.

  “I told him he didn’t have to share. ‘Of course I do,’ he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And then I said…” Her voice cracks, and she drops her hands. The splotches cover her eyes like a pair of sunglasses. “I said, ‘Before you die, I want you to have an entire pie to yourself—and not share a single bite.’” Her face crumples. “I guess my wish is coming true.”

  She breaks down, then, and I put my arms around her. She cries and cries, as if she’ll use up all the water inside our bubble. As if she’ll reach out into the planet and borrow its colored streams and rivers, so that the tears raining down her cheeks will turn orange and pink and red.

  Her tears splash onto the ground, creating wet patches on the tile. For once, the pattern of my despair matches someone who cares about Carr as much as, or maybe even more, than I do.

  “I love him, Astana,” I say, the confession long overdue.

  Her sobs subside. Her brother hasn’t given her enough credit. Those years she allowed him to look after her? Maybe it wasn’t because she needed him, but rather, because he needed her.

  She wipes away the tears. “I know. You’ve always loved him. Even when we were kids, I would catch you sneaking looks at him.”

  I lower my head, a seven-year-old girl once again. Fascinated by this boy with the deep black eyes and the fistful of worms, but too shy to talk to him. “How come you never said anything?”

  “I didn’t think anything could come out of it. You’re an Aegis. He isn’t.” She doesn’t finish her thought. She doesn’t have to. We were always only a distinct possibility because I was slated to die sixty years before him.

  Now, I’d give anything to have another year with Carr, much less the rest of my truncated life. Because I’m more certain now than I’ve ever been before. Even if I become the Successor, I will never let someone die to extend my own life.

  “Have you told him that you love him?” she asks.

  “I don’t know if it would make things better or worse.”

  “Better. My brother needs love in his life. Even if it’s only for a few days.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  She studies me, as though picturing the different roles I’ve played in her life. Friend. Princess. Traitor. Sister. “I want my brother’s last days to be happy.”

  “So you forgive me?”

  She hesitates and then holds up her wrist. “I missed you. Hanoi has been an absolute dear, but I missed having my best friend.”

  My heart bobs in my chest. Just when I thought all the happiness was stripped from my life, a trickle of joy finds its way back. I press my wrist against hers. “Oh, Astana, I missed you so much.”

  “I also have something to confess. This colonist has gone and fallen in love with an Aegis, too. Who would have thought?”

  “Denver has thirteen years left,” I say. “It’s not a lot compared to seventy-three, but it’s still a long time. Especially now, I’m realizing how long.”

  “I’m glad I got sick.” She looks at the feeding tubes, at her pale forearms. Instead of threads, they now resemble pasta noodles. “All my life, I’ve been chasing something bigger and better, when everything I’ve ever wanted has been right here. Someone who loves me no matter what. I don’t need to do the primping and enhancements, the laughing and storytelling. I can just be me.”

  I squeeze her hand. “I’m so glad.”

  “Just think, both of us in love.” She smiles, the old Astana smile, the first one she’s given me since I chose not to exercise the veto. “Nobody ever told me how happy it would make me.”

  Nobody ever told me how much it would hurt.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Four

  The water gushes off the cliff, its roar deafening. If we had any predatory animals on Dion, this is what they would sound like. Ferocious, proud. And willing to eat you alive.

  The four of us stand in front of Bubble Falls, a name too dainty to match its power. Me, Carr, and our two surveillance bots. Just one happy family.

  “Any chance we can ditch the bots?” Carr asks. The falling water sprays our faces and makes the bots whirr back a few feet.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  I kneel in front of my bot and press my palm against the sensor pad in its torso. “This is Princess Vela commanding you to shut down.” The bot’s eyes blink off and its mechanical limbs droop. I turn to Carr’s bot and repeat the procedure.

  He looks at me like I’ve solved the problem of the Aegis’ shortened life spans. “That’s it? We could’ve been free of the bots this entire time?”

  I giggle. “I have a royal override. The same way my handprint can get me into any government building in the colony. Once the override is activated, it’ll lock down the bot for ten minutes before it can be powered up again.

  “But this trick will only work once. When Master Somjing finds out, I’m sure he’ll reprogram the bot so it no longer responds to that particular command.” Which, under the circumstances, will be the easiest I get off. But I’m ready to call Master Somjing’s bluff. Astana and the others have improved so much. There’s no way the council will take away their daily ration of food just because I want a last date with Carr. Perhaps forever.

  “I wanted to save the override for a time that really counts.” I wet my lips. “I was hoping today would be it.”

  His eyes flash. With the waterfall at his back and the sun lamps outlining his silhouette, he looks like one of the mythological gods. Apollo, maybe, god of all things enlightened and fierce protecter of his family.

  “What did you want to show me?” I ask.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “With my life.” The words should be ironic, but they’re not. I’m not doing such a great job saving his life, but I trust him implicitly to take care of mine.

  “Take a deep breath.” Without further warning, he scoops me in his arms and jumps into the stream.

  The water engulfs me, and the surge pushes us apart. I claw my way to the surface, and Carr pops up next to me. He’s laughing. The sound erupts out of him like lava from a volcano and flows everywhere. To the expanding ripples caused by our cycling legs. To the slick muddy shore of the stream bank. To me.

  “You could’ve told me we were going to jump.” I shiver, from the cold water or his nearness. Probably both. “The bots wouldn’t have followed us into the stream.”

  “But th
at wouldn’t be as much fun, would it?”

  I’ve never seen him like this before, so mischievous and pleased. And I can’t help it. I propel myself forward and press my wet lips to his. Our limbs wind together, tangling like seaweed, and we sink deeper into the stream. We kiss all the way down, and even when the water closes over our heads, we keep on kissing.

  When we finally surface for oxygen, my heart feels like it’s been working as hard as my lungs.

  “Ready to keep going?” he asks.

  “There’s more?”

  “A lot. We’re going to swim straight through the waterfall, okay?”

  Not okay. The way the falls sputter and spew, I’m not sure I’ll make it to the other side. But with Carr holding my hand, I feel like I can do anything. I nod and take a deep breath. And we begin to swim.

  The stream bubbles around us, like a pot of boiling water, and the waterfall batters our backs. My body plummets half a foot in the water, but Carr tightens his grip on my hand and yanks me through.

  We emerge in a dark, cool cavern, with four or five tunnels leading deeper into the planet. Everywhere I look, stalagmites sprout from the ground and stalactites drip from the ceiling, as thick as trunks and as thin as twigs.

  “How did you find this place?” My voice comes out hushed. The natural, free-form beauty of this place demands it.

  “By accident. Astana dared me to swim through the Falls once. I’ve been coming here ever since.” He takes off his thin cotton shirt and wrings it.

  I swallow. Whereas before, I averted my eyes when he was in front of me, shirtless, now I can’t help but stare. His chest is wide and solid, his abs hard and defined.

  With fumbling fingers, I remove the outer layer of my clothes, leaving a sufficiently modest tank top and shorts. Unlike Carr’s flimsy shirt, the thick material of my eating caftan has absorbed my body’s weight in water. No amount of wringing will get the wet out, so I lay the caftan on a rock to dry.

  When I turn back to Carr, his eyes are fixed on my bare arms and legs. “You’d better not touch me,” he says in a strained voice. “Otherwise, we might not make it any further.”

  I flush. Did I say the cave was cool? Every square inch of my skin is burning hot.

  He leads me through the stalagmites into one of the tunnels, and despite his warning not to touch him, he offers me his hand. When my fingers close over his, energy flows between us, fusing our skin together.

  A short distance later, the tunnel opens into a larger cave. The walls are smoother here, and the light more muted. A single sky-hole opens the top of the cavern. And jetting straight through the middle of the cave is a river of turquoise, yellow, and magenta.

  My heart stutters. “This is like the hologram.” Except so much more. The colors more brilliant, the drops of water more distinct. If I kneel and stick my hand into the stream, I’d feel real, cool wetness.

  “You said you wanted to see the colored streams.” He looks at me as though the only thing he’s ever needed to see is…me. “This is the only place I know inside the shield where you can see unfiltered water.”

  “It’s beautiful. If a piece of a nebula broke off and fell into the water, this is what it would look like.”

  Unexpectedly, tears spring to my eyes. I haven’t cried this entire time. Not when Carr was selected as the Fittest, not when my father collapsed. And here I am, crying at a bit of water.

  Maybe my emotions were just filling up, like the maple syrup that drips from a spigot. Or maybe it’s because I never needed a gift from Carr. I treasured the trinkets he gave me all those years ago, but only because they were from him. And now he’s given me a piece of my dreams, based on an offhand comment.

  “Don’t be sad.” He wipes the tear off my cheek with his finger.

  “I’m not,” I say, my throat tight, my chest even tighter. “I’ve never been happier. Truly.”

  He brings the finger to his lips and tastes my tear. “Doesn’t taste happy to me,” he whispers. “Do you know what this custom means, when a colonist tastes someone’s tears?”

  I shiver, even though my skin is flushed with heat. How can I be so hot and cold at the same time? “I think Astana’s mentioned it, but tell me again.”

  He takes my hand and leads me around a boulder, where a solar blanket and some pillows have been laid on the rocky ground. He must’ve come here earlier. He made an extra trip so I would be more comfortable. More tears escape from my eyes.

  “You have to understand how it feels not to have food,” he says. We settle on the still-warm blanket. “It’s like one of our senses has been taken away. We crave taste, of any sort. And one of the most intimate things you can give to another person is the taste of your emotions. The taste of your tears.”

  He catches another one of my tears and holds it out, as if asking my permission, before bringing it to his mouth. “When someone tastes your tears, they are making a commitment to you. They’re saying: I will love you forever. In order to accept the commitment, to pledge your love in return, you would reciprocate the action.”

  “But you’re not crying,” I say and then wince. Because he hasn’t said the ceremony was about us. He hasn’t said he loves me.

  “That’s because you haven’t said ‘yes.’” He shifts so he is right in front of me, the colored streams of water flowing behind him. My heart aches so much it might rise out of my body and become its own entity.

  “I told you earlier my life was complete. I would be able to die, satisfied my life had served a purpose.” He pauses, his breath tracing my eyebrows. “But you’ve given me something more than purpose. You’ve shown me joy.

  “I’ve never done a thing for you, and yet you care for me anyway. I’ll never forget that, Vela. Wherever I am, whatever medium my soul becomes, I will love you forever. But I would never seek to bind you to me when I’m no longer on this planet. So, my question to you is: will you be mine, for the next five days?”

  Just when I thought my heart couldn’t shatter anymore, he has to pick it up and run it through the shredder. I fly into his arms. “You don’t have to put conditions on it. I’m yours forever, whether you like it or not.”

  And then I see it. A shimmering at the corner of his eyes. A gathering of moisture that becomes a single perfect tear. I lean forward and catch the tear with my mouth.

  The colonists know what they’re doing. The drop is the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tasted. Wet, salty. And fully Carr. I’d give up eating if I could taste his tears over and over again.

  “I don’t ever want to leave you, Carr,” I whisper. “I never want to say goodbye.”

  I’m being selfish. This situation is hard enough. I shouldn’t make it even harder.

  But Carr just wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “Then don’t.” His voice is hoarse with emotion and need. “Let’s stay here, the two of us, and pretend like we never have to go back. Pretend like there are no bots waiting for us. No transplant looming in a few days. Pretend like we have all the time in the world. All the love in the world. Can you do that? For one night, can you pretend with me?”

  My father will worry. When they find out the bots are deactivated, the security detail may even send a search party. But none of that matters right now.

  I belong to Carr, and he belongs to me. Heart, soul, and body. For one night, we can be together the way we’re supposed to be, the way we’re meant to be. This is the only night I’ll ever have with him, and the memory of it will have to last a lifetime.

  I’m not holding anything back.

  “Yes,” I say. “I’ll pretend with you.”

  And on a solar blanket on the rocky ground, next to the colored streams of water, we pretend. All. Night. Long.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Five

  Yesterday was only the second time in my eating career I’ve failed to meet quota. Since I missed the early and late evening meals last night, and the early morning meal today, I’m desperately behind on calories. And my stomach�
��s letting me know it.

  With every rumble and gurgle and growl, Carr grins a little wider. “It’s a good thing we had your stomach to wake us up. Otherwise, we might still be sleeping.”

  We enter Protector’s Courtyard, and my eyes skip to the flagpoles on top of the shuttle. To my relief, I don’t see anything unusual. No purple distress flags, no royal guards racing around with alarmed looks on their faces. Just a few people window-shopping along the row of stores, which won’t be open for another hour. Business as usual.

  My stomach groans, and I press my hand to my abdomen.

  Carr brings my hand to his lips. “You look cute when your face is the same pink as the unfiltered streams.”

  “How can you joke at a time like this? What if we’re in trouble?”

  “Nah. The security guys aren’t idiots. It was pretty clear what was going to happen when you turned off the bots. They knew we were safe the second you reactivated them this morning.”

  I stop short, and our two surveillance buddies cease rolling behind us. “Was I that obvious?”

  “I wasn’t sure.” He brushes a strand of hair off my forehead. “But I was certainly hoping.”

  He leans forward, about to kiss me, when Denver comes bounding across the courtyard.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Before we can respond, he rushes on, “Astana’s not in her recovery unit. She’s been gone since yesterday evening.”

  The blood drains from my face. Yesterday evening. After I powered off my surveillance bot. When I disappeared into a cave with Carr. The council threatened to withhold the patient’s daily rations if I turned off my loop. Could this be their punishment because I shut down my bot? Could I have read the council so incorrectly?

  No. They wouldn’t hurt her. They couldn’t.

  And yet…and yet…

  “Maybe they moved her to a different room,” I suggest.

  “They wouldn’t tell me anything.” Denver shoves his hands into his hair. “I don’t have clearance.”