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Among The Stars (Heinlein's Finches Book 2) Page 6


  “I don’t know anything about dogs, but she looks like she loves you.”

  “Yeah. She likes me a bit. I like her too. It works out.”

  “So is Nicky in the actual show? I don’t remember seeing him.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Ha! You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no. The animals are presented by a varied assortment of Jameson’s daughters and girlfriends. And if you don’t know them, it’s hard to tell which are which. They’re generally useless, but they look showy. If they were half as good as they think they are, they’d be here working with the animals instead of being on the fastest ship bound to the next site. But they only ever do as little as they can get away with, and that’s often next to nothing.”

  “You don’t like them much?”

  “I’d turn them into dog food given half a chance. At least then they’d be properly useful. But it’s not up to me to tell them what to do. All I can do is try not to let them fuck up too badly. That keeps me busy enough. Anyway, when Kolya is done, do drag him over for food.”

  “He’s not cooking?”

  She pokes me hard in the ribs, but she’s smiling. “Hark at you. My food not good enough anymore?” And she flounces off.

  Tom shakes his head at me. “I have no idea where I stand with that woman.”

  “Me neither. But I like her, I think.”

  Our first days set the pattern of our life on ship. The more we can do, the more we’re left to do on our own. The work is physical, but not that hard. Not hard enough to zonk us out, anyway. Tom and I definitely need to find ourselves something to do to pass our free time on-ship. Until we’ve got that figured out, all we can do is rely on Alya to let us watch her threedees. I’m not much for sitting down for hours on end, but threedees in juvie were a fairly rare treat, so getting a chance to watch whatever we want whenever we want is novel enough, for now at least.

  Alya has flatly refused to have us in her ATR again, though.

  “It’s nothing personal. I just don’t want two lumbering oafs cluttering up my house.”

  I snort. “That sounds pretty personal.”

  “Not really. I don’t want any lumbering oafs around, not just you two.”

  She’s not the easiest person in the world to get on with, but she’s nice enough. She agreed to set up the big screen on the bridge for us. As she’s connecting things together, Tom watching her so he can do it himself, I let myself space out. My head is playing one of the tunes Alya put on for us a couple of days ago. It’s a really nice tune and after a little while my hands decide to start tapping along. I guess I must be humming, too, because next thing I know Tom’s hissing at me.

  “Dude, cut it out! You’re bothering the lady.”

  Alya is staring at me with a really weird look on her face, as if she’d never seen me before. “No, it’s alright. He’s not bothering me at all. Where did you learn that song?”

  “You played it for us.”

  “I know. But where did you learn it?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Was that the first time you heard it? When I played it?”

  “Yeah. I like it a lot.”

  “I like it too. But I’ve listened to it about a million times and no way in hell I could play the rhythm and melody at the same time.”

  “I don’t know what that means. Sorry.”

  Her expression gets even weirder. She turns to Tom. “Would you mind awfully keeping yourself entertained for a wee while? Everything’s connected. I need to borrow your friend, if that’s ok.”

  “Yeah, sure. I guess.”

  “If you’d be so kind as to follow me. It won’t take long.” She walks off the bridge towards the cargo bay. I look at Tom. I’m not sure what the fuck I’ve done wrong. All I was doing was humming and tapping, for gods’ sake. I know it can get annoying. I get told that often enough. Sometimes I just forget and do it anyway, but I always stop when people ask me. Nothing good ever started with the boss calling you off somewhere, though, so I’m sure I’m in for something. Tom just shrugs and gestures at me to go on with her. I know he’ll keep an ear out, just in case.

  Alya is waiting for me just across the doorway. “I hope you don’t mind too much me keeping you from your threedee. I just want to check something out, if it’s ok with you.”

  “So I’m not in trouble?”

  “No. Not at all. I’d just like to ask you a few questions, check out a couple of things. If it bothers you, tell me to leave you alone, ok?”

  When we get to her ATR, she puts out a cushion for me next to Laika’s bed. “I’m just going to play some music for you. Is that ok?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” This is getting weirder by the second, but I never mind listening to music.

  “Tell me if you’ve heard this before.”

  The tune starts and I shake my head. “Haven’t.”

  “You’ve only heard about three notes”.

  “Yeah. New one to me.”

  “Huh.”

  She lets me listen to the tune all the way to the end, then she turns her player off. “Ok. So. Can you remember the bass line?”

  “What baseline?”

  “The bass line. B-A-S-S. The instrument that plays the lowest notes.” She hums a little bit.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Can you remember it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Could you hum it for me?”

  I’m not really into public displays, so I’m a bit embarrassed, but I do. “It doesn’t go like that all the way through, though. A couple of times it’s different, and there are some bits I couldn’t hear very well.”

  “Yeah. It’s a live performance. He gets it wrong a few times. Ok. Can I try something else?”

  “Sure.”

  She plays another tune. “Ok. You got that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to play it again, and I’d like you to tap the rhythm. Then I’m going to turn it down for a bit, so you can’t hear it, but I’d like you to keep tapping. Just keep tapping until I say. Ok?”

  “Ok.”

  We do that. When we’re finished, she leans back on her cushion. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “What?”

  “You kept the tempo all the way through. When I turned up the volume, you were precisely in the right place. And the music speeds up as it goes.”

  “Yeah. I heard it the first time.”

  “Ok. Just one more thing. Is that alright? You can tell me to fuck off and go back to your threedee if you want.”

  “Nah, it’s alright. This is kinda fun.”

  “Listen to this, ok?” After the tune is over, she peers at me. “You know how there’s a main voice, and another one that comes in every now and then?”

  “Yeah. It’s the same guy, isn’t it?”

  “Yup. Can you remember how the second voice goes?”

  I hum that.

  When I’m done, she stares at me for the longest time, then her face splits into a grin. “Bloody hell.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been trying to work that bit out for years. Years. I couldn’t hear it well enough to separate it out. One more thing. Last one, I swear.”

  “Alright.”

  “You know how that song had the two voices? If I play you another tune, can you try and make up a second voice for it?”

  I shrug. Worst that can happen is that I can’t.

  She plays the tune. When it comes around for the second time I start humming along to it. I just hum in some of the empty space in the song, kinda thing. She’s looking at me weird again, so I stop.

  “That was brilliant.”

  “Mostly when I hum people get annoyed.”

  “That’s because people hardly ever pay attention. You have no idea how amazing this is, do you?”

  “What is?”

  “This whole thing. Ok. When you think of a tune, what do you think?”

  “What?”

  “When I asked you to hum the bass line, how d
id you do it?”

  “I just played it in my head and hummed along.”

  “Played it in your head?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you can pick any instrument to listen to?”

  “Kinda. I mean, the music is playing, all of it, and sometimes I play along different bits. Most of the time I just let it play.”

  “Holy crap on a cracker. So you hear a song, and it just stays in your head? All the different parts of it?”

  “Yeah. Is that weird?”

  “I don’t have any numbers on this, but I don’t know anyone else who can do that. Not one person. I just can’t believe that nobody else spotted this sooner.”

  I shrug. “There wasn’t much call for humming on demand back home.”

  “You should have been at a special school.”

  That’s harsh. “I’ve been told that a lot, but I’m not that slow.”

  “No! That’s not what I meant. A school for music, and whatever else you’ve got a gift for. On Anteia they would have pulled you out of normal ed and straight into an arts program.”

  “On Celaeno they just told me to shut up and stop twitching.”

  “Yeah, well. I guess you’ve got more pressing priorities over there.”

  I shrug. I’ve never been anywhere else, so I don’t have anything to compare it to.

  Alya carries on. “I just can’t… What a waste. What a damn waste.” She shakes herself off. “Anyway. Thank you for your time. It’s been awesome. I’m officially jealous of you. If you don’t get back to Tom, he’ll start the threedee without you.”

  “I’m sure he’s already done that. He’s not very patient. I don’t mind.”

  When I get back to the bridge, Tom’s well into the threedee, but he pauses it to talk to me. “So? What did she want?”

  “She just wanted me to hum along and stuff.”

  “She wanted to listen to you humming?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Man, this place is weirder than I ever thought possible.”

  Just when we start to think we’ve gotten used to how things work around here, everything gets disrupted again. We’re due on-planet. Alya gets us out of bed practically in the middle of the night.

  “The whole convoy got there on time, for a change. Build-up has started and is going well.”

  “Miracles!” Nicky waves his arms at the sky.

  “It’s 4am local time. We should get there in two hours. Nice, easy build-up. Then I have to set off and go find those damn girls. Time to sedate the animals and strap them in.”

  This part of our work doesn’t seem to get any easier. I can’t seem to get the hang of timing the harnessing. I don’t think Tom is much better, but he doesn’t seem to be worried about it while I’m getting really worked up.

  Alya pulls me aside. “Kid, you need to chill. You’re winding the animals up. That makes everything harder. Do you know any breathing exercises?”

  “What? No.”

  “Ok. No problem. You need to think of a song that forces you to breathe slower. A song with loooooong notes that you have to sustain, ok? If you don’t know one, I’ll find one for you. That way you’ll calm yourself down, and that’ll help calm the animals down. We’ll get it sorted. But for now, go clean up or stare out the window or do anything at all anywhere else. Sorry, but we’re on a time limit.”

  I feel as if I’ve gotten kicked in the guts. I wander about doing what I can, making double sure that everything has been stowed away safely, cleaning up, and so on, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

  When the guys are finished, Nicky settles himself in his seat in the cargo hold. The three of us and Laika go to the bridge. Either Laika knows that I feel terrible and is trying to comfort me or I’ve got food on my trousers. She won’t leave me alone until Alya calls her over to get strapped into her seat.

  Anteia

  Year 2377

  Terran Standard

  1.

  Landings feel worse than departures. My insides seem to decide that they don’t like what’s going on and would like to leave. I narrowly avoid spewing, and that’s probably only because I’ve not eaten in hours.

  Once we land I feel better almost instantly, but I’m confused as hell. “Why are we here? There’s nothing here.”

  The portabubble has been set up in the middle of… nothing. Lots and lots of nothing. This place is totally flat, so I can vaguely see what I believe are bubbles in the distance, but they’ve got to be tens of clicks away. Maybe more. I can’t get a sense of the distance.

  “Anteia is a bit weird, or at least this part of it is”, says Alya as she stretches and cracks her neck. “People come to us, instead of us going to them.”

  “How?”

  “ATRs. They drive in.”

  “That sounds like a lot of effort, and expensive.”

  “That’s not a problem around here. You’ll see. Anyway, time to get cracking.”

  The setting up work is grueling. It’s like the packing up, but backwards. At least now we have a vague idea of what we’re doing, but it’s still bloody hard work. Our timeline is tight because we need to have the stables ready before the animals start coming out of sedation. I feel as if I’m spending more time rushing about than getting anything done, but we still manage it, with Alya’s help.

  As soon as we’re all set, she bellows at Nicky. “I’m off. Need to get dressed. Get one or both of these lumps squared off and ready. Going in ten. Or twenty. Soon, anyway.”

  Tom frowns at Nicky. “What does she mean, she needs to get dressed? She’s dressed now.”

  “Dressed to work, yes. She needs a nicer dress for this. You too. Go clean up, put on nice clothes.”

  “Can we both go, then?”

  “Yes, yes! But tonight you work hard. And tomorrow.”

  Nicky shows us to our quarters. They’re in a converted ATR wagon split into three bedrooms, a ‘fresher, and a kitchen.

  “This is mine. You can pick yours. No fighting! And who is next to me must be quiet. I sleep at night.”

  “You better take that one, then,” sniggers Tom. I don’t have a problem with that. Inside our rooms we have a bed and a storage area. It’s not big, but it’s ours. We hardly own anything, so moving in takes no time at all.

  We try to have a quick clean and a change of clothes, but we’re not terribly successful with either. The ‘fresher hasn’t been connected yet and neither of us has any decent to wear.

  When we get back to the stables Alya’s nowhere in sight yet. We end up waiting for absolute ages.

  “Shoulda got some food,” grumbles Tom.

  “Shit! We need to get some food. Our wages, too. Still haven’t seen any credit.”

  “Wages first, hey.”

  “Unless the food here is free.”

  When Alya finally emerged from her ATR, we ask her. “Shit! You won’t get paid till tonight. Nobody does. We get paid after build-up is finished, because otherwise people might scarper before it’s all done.”

  “Scarper?”

  “Yeah. Standard way of leaving the circus. Instead of handing in their notice, they grab their shit and bug off. It’s a pain in the ass in general, but it’s a serious issue when we’re moving. Holding wages keeps them here until the build-up is finished, at least. I’ll front you. There are shops where we’re going. I have to go in, too. Kolya!” she bellows. “Food?”

  “Yes, please!”

  “You know what he wants?” Tom asks her as we’re walking to the ATR.

  “Yeah. I’ve worked and lived with the guy for three years. We share cooking duties. Mostly he cooks, I eat.”

  As soon as we’re settled in our seats, she floors the ATR.

  “Ok kids, listen up and listen up good. Anteia is a lovely, lovely place, but it’s very traditional. Very formal. Very dangerous if you fuck up. Don’t upset anyone, don’t eat anything without asking me, don’t go picking fights, and do not, repeat do not steal anything.”

  “What? Who do y
ou take us for?” sputters Tom.

  “Two little shits fresh out of juvie with no credit and less sense. Seriously, don’t. The punishment for theft here is amputation. Hand or nose. And you don’t get to pick. Don’t mess about. Ok?”

  “Ok. Yeah. Sure. What the hell kind of place is this?”

  “Not a bad place. And that’s how they like to keep it.”

  Even at the speed we’re driving, the horizon doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. This place is so flat I feel like the sky is going to fall on top of me. Every now and then we pass a bubble with nothing in it. I don’t get it.

  “What are those empty bubbles?”

  “Work in progress,” says Alya. “They’re getting them set up for habitation.”

  “But there’s nothing around them, no mines or anything. And they are so small. How many people are supposed to fit in there?”

  “A family. That’s it.”

  “What?” we chorus.

  “That’s how they do it here. Rich families have their own private bubbles. More than one, sometimes. Poor families live in communal bubbles, crammed as tight as you can think, and more. The whole planet’s privately owned. No Fed.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” blurts out Tom.

  “Nope. You’ll see.” She sighs. “Every place we go to is different – that’s the beauty of moving. But Anteia is really different. Beautiful, too. And ugly. Dangerous in places. Life is hard here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Ah, well. First we are going to see some of the people in charge. I’ve sent in a com ahead of time, but it’s good manners to visit in person. Then we’re off to one of the communal bubbles, to convince four poor girls to come with us.”