Awakening on Orbis (3 page)

“Welcome to the dumping ring,” he said.

“Who calls it that?”

“I do. They call it Murat. I believe it was named after some Nagool. Now, come, we have people waiting for us.”

I followed my Guarantor into the city. Murat looked like a way station, a shantytown constructed from used materials fastened to anything that was standing. Metal and glass structures like you might find on the other rings were buried under an erratic framework of multilevel trading chambers that sold what looked like the worthless trinkets Switzer and Dalton had scavenged on Orbis 2. The ones that sold useful items, like food or tools, were the busiest, but most of the action seemed to come from customers haggling over prices.

As I was walked deeper into Murat, I noticed that a lot of the signs were painted on boards or scratched right into the concrete and that the central computer did not translate half of them. Along the cramped streets, I also witnessed small fires burning in the open, where aliens roasted small creatures — skin, fur, and all. The smell was disgusting, as if you had burned the hair on your arm.

“This is where you work?” I said.

“Of course not,” Hach replied. “My industries are off-ring, mostly on Ki and Ta. This is where
you
will work.”

What could I possibly do here?
my mind cried.

I stepped to the side as an alien with a narrow chin and a hunched back scurried toward Hach and offered him what I thought was a chemical analyzer, though the tool was too mangled to be certain. Hach took the used item from him and tossed the alien a tiny crystal in return. Two other aliens emerged from the shadows and pawed at the alien’s new bounty. Farther down the path, Hach gave the broken device to another alien, sitting alone in the street.

“Sad, isn’t it?” he remarked. “This is what they risked their lives for. They’ve traded rotation after rotation of indentured service for this meager existence.”

“I don’t get it,” I said. “How do they end up like this?”

“It’s simple, really. The First Families like what they have, and they work diligently to keep it for themselves. When knudniks complete their work rules, most of them don’t have the finances or the skill set required to live as proper Citizens. Do you know what it costs to live on Orbis 3? Even if half the people here pooled their resources, they couldn’t afford a dwelling on the ring. Here lies the Rings of Orbis’s dirty little secret. And it could be even worse.”

“Worse?”

“Orbis 4 would be overflowing with refugees if these aliens weren’t offered passage through the wormhole after their work rule ended. If I were them, I wouldn’t stay here, either.”

“But don’t the Keepers know about this? I can’t imagine them allowing it.”

“But that’s the genius of the Citizens, especially the Trading Council. You see, the Trading Council controls the wealth. The Keepers do not have to do anything; the Citizens pay for everything, but that leaves the Keepers without any hard currency. Don’t get me wrong: the Keepers are wealthier than you can imagine, but they waste their money here. They try to do what they can, but it’s a futile effort. There are too many forces working against them.”

“But you’re on the Council. You sound like you hate this. Why can’t you do anything?”

“I
was
on the Trading Council, but I’m not anymore. That is why
you
are here,” he said.

Hach was no longer a council member! When had that happened? And more important, why?

I must have been gawking. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I left the Trading Council of my own accord.”

Then Hach stopped in front of a private flier. I looked back down the street toward the spaceport. I knew it was rude and dangerous to question my Guarantor, but I had to ask.

“Why didn’t we just —” I pointed back toward the spaceport.

Hach cut me off. “I wanted you to see Murat. I wanted you to experience the city for yourself. I felt it was important for you to know. You’ll understand my motives later.”

An alien with thick legs and muscular arms emerged from the ruby-red craft.

“I trust your trip was satisfactory,” the alien said.

“Yes, I believe it was,” Hach replied, motioning toward me.

The alien looked at me and smiled.
Another knudnik,
I thought. It was undeniable. The hopeless look in his eyes gave him away. Did I look like that?

Then the alien reached for the door. I thought he was opening it for Hach, but another alien with taut, glowing-white skin, stepped out of the flier and strode toward me. As he stood up, the skin at the edges of his collar and sleeves seemed to ripple before settling.

“It’s good to see you again, Queykay,” Hach said, but the candescent alien stepped around my Guarantor without even a glance. Queykay was the same height as Hach but walked with his chin raised, forcing him to look down upon anyone he spoke to. Hach ignored the snub and continued. “Queykay ba Torel, meet JT. JT, meet your new liaison with the Trading Council. It was not possible for me to be your Guarantor and sit on the Council, but the Trading Coun —”

“The Trading Council feels the pulse of its Citizens,” Queykay interrupted him. “And we feel it is necessary that a member of our elite supervise the arrival of a Scion, independent of your Guarantor’s responsibilities. Besides the honor her presence bestows on the multitude of Citizens on Orbis 4, your sibling’s existence creates many security risks. The Tonat cannot be in all places at once.”

“I’m not the Tonat,” I informed him.

“I thought this was taken care of,” he said as he turned to Hach.

“It will be,” Hach assured him. “I am aware of the arrangement, and I will deliver as promised.”

What arrangement?

Queykay stared at me, sizing me up before speaking. “So if you are not the Tonat, then who are you?” he asked. I could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

“I’m . . . I —” I stumbled for an answer. “I’m the Softwire.”

What a stupid answer,
I thought. I didn’t want to do this. I saw the other knudnik get into the flier and took it as my cue to get away from this guy. I tried to step around Queykay, but his hand darted out from his burgundy cape and pressed against my face. His skin felt damp and sickly except where a large crystal ring encircled his finger. Repulsed, I pulled away from him, glancing up his sleeve.

“But you are still a knudnik,” he hissed. “It would be healthy if you remembered that.”

I didn’t like Queykay. It was one of those instant feelings you get. His entire demeanor seemed polished to make me feel inferior. And he was creepy. When I had pulled away from him just then, something rattled my senses. It wasn’t even possible, my mind reasoned. For the tiniest moment of time, I swear that I saw a hundred tiny red eyes blink at me from the depth of his black silk shirt. I shook it off. Weird. I hoped I didn’t have to be around this guy too much. I did not see a long-lasting friendship in our future.

Hach leaned in and mumbled something to Queykay. Then he motioned for me to get in the flier. I slipped into a seat at the back, glad to be out from under Queykay’s glare, as the flier lifted above the crowds and then turned toward the ring’s edge on my right. After a short trip across the tattered city, the flier settled down atop the only building I could see that appeared to be constructed from a set of plans rather than the wire and guesswork that seemed to hold the rest of the city together.

When the flier settled, I waited for my Guarantor to exit first, but he turned to Queykay. He was about to speak when Queykay raised his finger and focused on me. They were both staring when Hach motioned for me to get out.

My pleasure.

I scrambled out of the flier and moved as far away as possible. While I waited for their conversation to finish, I surveyed what I assumed was my new home. The ship was resting on the lower roof of a multilevel structure, some sort of landing pad, I figured. Behind the flier, about a hundred meters away, I spotted an entrance to the second level — a curved structure comprised of nothing but tall black windows. I looked for some sign of life but saw none.
Is Max inside?
I wondered. I hoped so.

I turned away from the black windows and moved to the edge of the lower roof. I glanced below and spotted a long, walled walkway that led away from the front of the building. The concrete path ended at a huge open square.
What does Hach do here?
I wondered. Or rather, what was
I
going to do here?

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Hach called out.

I turned and saw him walking toward me. Queykay and the flier were nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t worry — he’s gone.”

“Would I be punished if I said that I hoped he was gone for good?”

“I won’t punish you, but don’t let
him
hear that. Just stay out of his way, all right? The Trading Council needs to appear to be in control despite the fact that they were caught completely off guard. They need the Citizens to believe that the Scion is in
their
pocket. They don’t want the Keepers taking all of the credit.”

“She’s not in their pocket,” I told him.

“That doesn’t matter. Appearances can have just as much influence as fact.”

“It sounds like more politics to me,” I said. “What is this place?”

“For you? This is home. For me, this is a unique partnership. I hope it does us both some good.” Then he let out a deep breath and turned away. “Come, there are some people eager to see you, I’m sure.”

“Excuse me, Hach?”

He turned back toward me. No Citizen I ever met liked to be addressed by a knudnik. Inside I cringed, waiting for his punishment, but none came. “Yes?” was all that he said.

“I was hoping that the work I have to perform, you know, what you want me to do, could keep me close to my sister. I’ve always looked out for her and —”

Hach interrupted me. “Don’t worry, Softwire. I’m counting on that.”

I wasn’t used to getting my way with a Citizen, but I knew when to keep my mouth shut. If Hach was expecting me to stay close to my sister, then that could only mean that he was counting on me to play the Tonat. Even Queykay seemed to expect it. The way those two had confided in each other made me think they were planning something.
But what?

I followed Hach toward the wall of black glass. As he neared the middle, he waved something in the air and the glass plates parted in response. When I stepped through the door, I was greeted by a digi three times my height, hanging in a hallway that ran parallel to the curve of the glass. I could see at least twenty digis, lit with pink lights that appeared to float above the polished floor. Some digis showed images of aliens I had never seen while others displayed places I had never visited.

Hach had turned right and was marching down the hall. “This way,” he called over the echo of his boots striking the glasslike floor.

Past the last of the enormous digis, Hach stopped under the center of an arched doorway, where cooler light spilled out from the room beyond, along with a familiar chatter. I knew instantly who was in there. I rushed past Hach.

“JT!” Theodore shouted as I entered the room. He sprang from the floor. Theodore was as tall as I was now, and he had let his hair grow into a shaggy mop. It reminded me of the mane on a Garin, the knudniks that served the Trading Council. Everyone rushed toward me — all of the eighteen kids who had lived together with Ketheria and me as knudniks on the Rings of Orbis, though we were only a small fraction of the total number of kids from the
Renaissance.

I scanned the room for Max. When I saw her, my stomach tightened and sent a jolt to my heart. She looked up, tucked her hair behind her ear, and smiled. She was so pretty — I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Some of the other kids gathered around me and created a barrier between me and Max before she slipped out of sight entirely.

“How’s Ketheria?” Grace asked.

“Where is she?” asked someone else.

My replies were quick but friendly. I didn’t have the nerve to break through the crowd and go over to Max. Something inside me still hesitated when it came to showing my affection toward her in front of the others.

“Is the awakening finished?” Theodore asked.

“No,” I answered. “Ketheria is still with the Nagools.”

That’s when I noticed Theodore’s clothes. He should have been wearing his vest and the tattered clothes he had owned since the
Renaissance,
but he wasn’t.

“What are you wearing?” I asked him.

“This?” he said, pulling at the burlaplike robe wrapped around his body. “It’s actually quite comfortable. Don’t laugh. You have to wear one, too.”

I looked around. Everyone was wearing these dull robes; some had different-colored cords tied around the middle or scarves draped around their necks.

“I’m not wearing that,” I told him.

“Actually, you won’t,” Hach remarked. “The Tonat requires something a little different.”

I looked around and found Max standing behind Grace. I saw her frown when Hach mentioned the word
Tonat.

“I’m not the Tonat,” I insisted. “I have no intention of becoming a Space Jumper.” I looked directly at Max when I said it.

“But the others on the ring don’t need to know that,” Hach argued. “Remember what I said about the power of appearance? I simply need you to
pretend
to be the Tonat. Will you at least agree to that?”

“Pretend? Why would I would I pretend to be something I don’t want to be?”

“Because that’s our new job,” Max said, now standing to my left and looking at Hach. “Well, yours, anyway. This whole building has been designed for it. Once Ketheria is finished with the awakening, this building will become a shrine and fees will be charged so others may visit her.”

“Correct,” Hach exclaimed. “Humans are so much more observant than they give you credit for. Personally, I have no need for these fables. OIO and its teachings have no room in my life, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of individuals on the rings who feel differently.”

“And will pay a lot for the privilege to see the Scion,” Max added.