Spinning Starlight (22 page)

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Authors: R.C. Lewis

BOOK: Spinning Starlight
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“She trusts me to make my own decisions. And I’m pretty sure she likes you. She’ll be fine.”

I hope that’s true. I didn’t make the best first impression. Shiin probably prefers her son
not
get involved with girls who get arrested.

Tiav still hasn’t let me go when he sighs. “I should probably let you get some sleep, shouldn’t I?” I glare up at him, remembering he was the first one to yawn before we
headed back, and he laughs. “Okay, maybe you should let me get some sleep.”

He walks me to my room, and I find myself lingering in his kiss good night before letting him go. For once I sleep without nightmares of my brothers. Silence doesn’t suffocate me, and
I’m not alone.

The next day is full of normal-but-not. Tiav and I work on my latest tinkering endeavor, but he sits a little closer to me. He talks and I write, but his patient smiles distract
me from what I want to say.

After I’ve built my own live-comm unit—for no particular reason, because I certainly can’t speak to use it—Tiav asks his usual question.

“What do you want to make next?”

“Vid cam. Lyke on Sam-pah-tee.”
Actually, I have an idea how to make my worst nightmare, one that’s even smaller and doesn’t buzz. I get a perverse sort of
pleasure knowing the media-grubs will never see it.

Tiav looks at the few bits and pieces left on the desk. “We definitely need more parts, and probably better tools. I know a good place to look. Let’s go.”

We’ve been on shop runs before, sometimes all the way across Podra. This one is close enough to walk, which means an excuse for Tiav to hold my hand again.

People notice. Unsurprising since they always notice Tiav, but now they start to notice me. Some look curious. Some just smile. A pair of Haleians look like they can’t be bothered to care,
as long as we make space for them on the walkway.

The shop Tiav pointed out is just ahead, but so is something else. A large group of Agnac. They’ve seen us, and even with the differences in alien expressions, I can tell they’re not
happy.

“There she is!”

“I see her!”

The second shout comes from behind us. More Agnac approach from that side.

Approach very, very quickly.

In the time it takes for the shock to register in Tiav’s eyes, they’re on us. Too close, pressing in, I can’t breathe. Tiav’s arms lock around me as he demands to know
what’s going on, but the Agnac voices drown him out. Most of them use their own language, but I make out a few words.

“—trespasser—”

“—must stop—”

“—Lost Points—”

“—heathen!”

They know! They found out where I’m from, and their reaction is just as bad as I feared.

No, worse.

They grab at me, their rough hands scraping everything they touch, but I cling to Tiav. He’s one of their Aelo. They’d never hurt him. With him I’m safe.

Someone behind me gets a grip on my arms and pries us apart. Someone else pushes Tiav away from me.

“Liddi!”

I want to call his name back, I want it more than anything, and the tightness in my throat barely stops me. Already I’ve lost sight of him in the mob of Agnac with their shaggy manes and
odd noses, shoving me and shouting at me. Others on the street have realized what’s happening, Ferinnes and Haleians and Crimna. Some shout for me to be left alone, while others hear what the
Agnac say about me coming from Sampati and join in their outrage.

One of the Agnac takes a swing at me. I block and swing back, making contact and setting blood streaming from his four nostrils.

It was instinct, what my brothers taught me to do. But it wasn’t smart.

Fists fly from every direction, and I can’t block them all. One to the stomach, one to the back, then one clips my head and I can’t count them anymore. Some keep hitting me, some hit
each other. I bite my lip because I can’t speak, I can’t cry out, not even a little.

“Stop! Liddi!”

“Leave her alone!”

“Heathen!”

I spot an opening in the mob and break for it. Something clamps on to my ankles, and I go down hard. No more worrying about fists—my world is a sea of feet. Agnac kick better than they
punch.

Do not cry out, Liddi, just don’t cry out, not one noise, not one sound—

A weight crashes onto my leg. I bite down on my fist as a bone snaps.

Pain burns through me, I have to let it out but I can’t I can’t I can’t.

I’m not sure if it’s the strain or if someone kicks me in the head. Either way, I’m grateful when blackness creeps in.

The gratitude doesn’t last long. I come around, still enveloped in chaos, but with a breath of space. That breath is getting bigger, too. No one’s hitting or kicking
me anymore.

Good thing, because the pain I’ve already got is enough to make me want to throw up. I fight back the tears, afraid if I let them go, my voice will go with them. Every place a punch or
kick landed throbs with its own beat, and my leg…I’d rather have my leg cut clean off than this.

In all my years of dealing with media-grubs and crowded parties, nothing like this ever happened. No one on Sampati would dare. They can gossip about us all they want, they can lie about us and
call us names, but the penalty for physically attacking a Jantzen would be too severe.

I don’t know what the penalty here will be, but as I writhe in agony, I do spot some keepers hauling people away. Then I spot something that makes me want to give in to my urge to
cry—Tiav’s face when he sees my state.

“Liddi?” He rushes over and crouches by me, taking my hand. Finally I have somewhere to direct my desire to scream, though it might result in his hand getting crushed.
“Sparks…what did they do to you? Can you get up?”

Oh, so definitely not. I point to my leg. I’ve broken it before, so I know this feeling.

“Sparks,” he says again. The way he says it sounds like the kind of word my brothers tell me not to get caught saying on vid-cam. Tiav looks around desperately, his eyes lighting up
when they find something. “Jahmari!”

“On my way, on my way. Liddi! Oh, dear. This is more than a few scratches, isn’t it?” The Crimna doctor settles on my other side and begins to assess the damage, but Tiav
interrupts him.

“Painkiller first. Now. She can’t hold her voice in forever like this.”

Jahmari’s head tilt reads as curious, but I’m just glad Tiav figured that much out. My bone-splitting grip was probably his first clue.

For the painkiller, I expect an infusion or maybe injection. Instead, Jahmari takes a tiny device from his kit and attaches it to my temple. The edges soften instantly. I still know I hurt, and
I have no intention of moving, but I don’t have the desire to perform my own amputation anymore.

The doctor returns to cataloguing my injuries. I’m not sure what exactly he’s doing. Or what anyone’s doing. The motion around me is different. Everything is. Slower and faster
and hard to understand.

That device “fuzzied” more than just the pain, Liddi.

One corner of my brain keeps enough sharpness to stop me from speaking, which is good, because I’d really like to say “What?” a lot, but I shouldn’t. Things move. I move.
Jahmari and Tiav are still with me, though, in some kind of vehicle. Probably a form of streamer, but I can’t see outside, so I don’t care. The two of them talk, and their words swim
over me.

“I was on my way to the Nyum when I saw the unpleasantness. What happened?”

“The Agnac found out where she came from.”

“How? Your mother was very clear about the confidentiality of that information.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know how.”

Silence, then more moving. The vehicle roof turns into the sky turns into a ceiling. It flows past my eyes like a river, then stops. Hospital? Blinking lights and energy beams, Jahmari looking
over everything on his scanners, Tiav looking at me. Just me.

“What’s this?” Jahmari asks.

Tiav squeezes my hand again. “I don’t know, but it’s why she won’t talk. She seemed afraid something bad would happen if you removed it.”

They found the implant.

“Ah, she may be right.” Jahmari sounds disappointed. “Quite a complicated little thing, may have all kinds of triggering mechanisms. Shame, shame. And look, here’s
another one, quite well hidden.”

“What’s that one for?”

Reporting my death to Tarix, should it happen, but I can’t tell them that.

“No idea. There, that bone should be finished mending. Let’s see.”

Jahmari ticks off a list of other injuries I don’t want to think about, particularly since he’s saying they’ve been fixed. No use worrying about them now.

“Aelo, we brought him, as requested.”

I don’t know that voice, don’t know what it means, but Jahmari ignores it. “You shouldn’t need this anymore,” the doctor concludes, removing the device from my
temple.

The returning sharpness of the world jars me like being dunked in ice water. Not entirely pleasant, except the pain’s down to a dull ache. That’s good. I can also see clearly enough
to notice Tiav has disappeared from my side.

“What were you thinking, you—!”

There he is, or his voice at least. Not that I’ve ever heard anything like that tone coming from him before, not even when he was angry with me. And if I’m not mistaken, the last
word was in Agnacki. I push myself up to see what’s happening.

What’s happening is Tiav standing nose-to-nose with Kalkig, who has a pair of keepers flanking him.

“You know what I was thinking,” the Agnac counters. “She’s dangerous, and you’ve become a fool.”

That’s the same old argument, but Tiav doesn’t have the same old response.

He punches his best friend.

What follows is so interspersed with Agnacki words on both sides, I can’t make sense of either of them. I don’t really have to. Kalkig obviously wants to strike back at Tiav but
doesn’t dare with the keepers on him, and Tiav obviously wants his taunting shoves to goad the Agnac into tangling anyway.

The room is a bomb, and the little parts are clicking into place for a massive explosion.

I don’t like explosions—they’re Ciro’s territory. I grab a piece of equipment from a bedside table, hope it’s as sturdy as it looks, and drop it. The resulting thud
does its job, silencing the boys and drawing attention to me, but I can’t say anything. It seems unlikely Tiav will be able to guess what I’m thinking when
I’m
not sure
what I’m thinking in the first place.

Then behind the boys, Shiin steps into the doorway.

“Liddi’s right,” she says. “That’s quite enough.”

Sure, that’s probably what I was thinking. It gets Tiav to back off a few steps from Kalkig, but his temper hasn’t cooled much.

“I don’t think it’s anywhere near enough,” he says.

“Kalkig defied my instructions, betraying my confidence,” Shiin says. Kalkig ducks his head like he did before, clearly more comfortable defying Tiav than the primary Aelo herself.
“He will face consequences for that.”

Tiav’s jaw is so tense, it’s a wonder he can form words. “He did more than defy an Aelo, Mother. Liddi could’ve been killed.”

Shiin puts both hands on her son’s shoulders. “I know, Tiav,” she says softly. “Please.”

It’s such a maternal gesture, a tone I haven’t heard in her voice before, not calling him by his whole name…like they should be alone, just family. The empty spaces next to me pull
with an ache for my own parents like I haven’t felt in years.

The words work. Tiav returns to my side, and the keepers take Kalkig away again.

“I’m sorry,” Tiav says, touching my arm. “How are you feeling?”

I point and flex my toes, testing the formerly broken leg. It feels like someone fastened the bone together with rivets, but several days ago. Not perfect, but not terrible.

“She’ll be fine,” Jahmari supplies, picking up the instrument I dropped. “Sore for a few days, certainly, but fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I’m afraid Kalkig’s actions have had a deeper impact than just Liddi’s well-being, Shiin says.”

I don’t like the sound of that, and neither does Tiav, judging by the sharpness in his eyes. “The council?” he asks.

“Yes, the council. The senior councillors have kept Liddi’s origin secret, but now that it’s widely known, they feel they must address the issue officially. Liddi’s been
summoned to the capital.”

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